ISGJV 35

Chapter 35

“E–E–Edmund?!”

It looked like he had grabbed me as I was about to fall stupidly, only to end up flat on the floor himself, becoming a cushion in the process.

Edmund was frowning, his brows drawn together as if it hurt quite a bit.

“Are you okay?”

Even so, he asked about me first.

Only then was I able to say what I should have said.

“You, first! Are you okay? You’re not hurt?!”

“I’m fine.”

Forgetting both my shock and my pounding heart, I checked his condition first.

Because of me acting like an idiot, he hadn’t just rolled around on the floor—he’d ended up pinned beneath me.

It seemed like there had been quite a loud noise when we fell, too.

Still, fortunately, it didn’t look like he was seriously injured.

Judging by the strange smile on his face.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“Huh? Am I smiling?”

Edmund looked genuinely puzzled.

‘No, why doesn’t he even realize he’s smiling? Just how out of it was he?’

Of course, the one who’d truly been completely out of it was probably me—the one who’d ended up crushing Edmund like a cushion.

I decided to gently pretend I’d forgotten that realization.

But just as I was about to scold Edmund about something—

Something strange caught my eye.

“Huh?”

It felt like a faint light flickered.

At Edmund’s fingertips, a firefly-like red light blinked on and off a couple of times.

What was that?

Puzzled, I rubbed my eyes.

‘Did something get in them? It doesn’t really hurt, though.’

After blinking several times and rubbing them with my sleeve, I looked again, and Edmund’s hand looked completely normal.

‘Must’ve been something like eye floaters.’

Instead, there was a wound on the hand where I thought I’d seen the strange light.

It wasn’t a big injury—just some scraped skin with a few drops of blood seeping out.

He must have scraped it somewhere while falling and shielding me.

‘I must’ve mistaken the blood for something else.’

I searched around in my arms for something I could use to wrap it up. Luckily, I had a handkerchief, so I wrapped Edmund’s hand with it.

“Do you still have any ointment left?”

“…I used it all.”

“Really? Then I’ll tell the nanny to bring you a new one later.”

Edmund, still wearing a faint smile, looked down at the finger I’d wrapped for him.

“It’s this handkerchief again.”

“Huh?”

Only after he pointed it out did I realize it.

That this was a handkerchief that had already gone back and forth between Edmund and me.

The one I’d used to wrap his hand back when I saved him from being beaten by Moretti.

And the one Edmund had given me when he saw me crying.

That same handkerchief had passed through my hands again and returned to Edmund.

“…….”

“…….”

For some reason, the feeling was strange.

It felt like something was tickling the pit of my chest.

It wasn’t cold or hot, but a kind of itchiness—like the sensation of a body that had been frozen solid slowly melting in a warm place.

As we stood there blankly, unsure what to say to each other, an intruder broke that subtle, ticklish silence.

“Um, you two…….”

“Gasp!”

“Kyaa!”

Both Edmund and I were genuinely startled.

We had completely forgotten about Wiles’s existence.

It seemed Wiles had been cowering in the corner and finally worked up the courage to speak.

“May I… leave now……?”

Edmund immediately replied.

“You’re still here?”

“Y–Yes. Then I’ll just quickly disappe—”

But I cut in.

“No! Don’t leave! We were working, remember?!”

That snapped me back to my senses.

I sprang up, pulling myself out of Edmund’s arms, and shouted,

“Come here, Wiles! We need to finish what we were doing!”

At that, Edmund sprang up like a coiled spring and caught up to me.

Then, for some reason, he spoke as if he were slightly annoyed.

“What were you two doing alone?”

What was I supposed to say here?

That we were looking for clues about the head-of-house seal you’re searching for?

The Cohen family seal is something only direct descendants of the Ducal House of Cohen even know exists.

At present, only two people know about it:

Edmund and his uncle.

And possibly Patrick as well, if he’d heard about it from his father.

But if I, someone who isn’t even a direct descendant, said I knew about the family seal—

How would Edmund react?

Especially if he found out I had more accurate information than he did?

‘He’d never believe me. Worse, even the thin layer of trust we’ve barely built would be shattered.’

I hastily grabbed the excuse I’d prepared in advance.

“We were looking for maps.”

“Maps?”

“Yeah. We’re going to escape soon, so we need to check the route ahead of time.”

Edmund’s eyes widened.

A word none of us—neither Edmund, nor Wiles, nor even I—had ever said out loud until now.

‘Escape.’

I was the first to mention it.

But then, an unexpected question came from Edmund.

“You… are you planning to run away?”

It was Edmund’s usual voice. His tone was the same, too.

Yet for some reason, it sounded oddly different.

As if something dangerous and heavy with heat was lurking inside it—his voice, his manner of speaking, and his gaze.

I tilted my head, puzzled.

“You’re not planning to run away?”

“…Huh?”

This time, Edmund looked startled.

“There’s no way you’re going to stay in this horrible villa forever. Weren’t you planning to escape?”

“Well, that’s… true, but….”

“And if you escape from here, the only place you could really go is your mother’s family.”

Along with the House of Cohen, one of the representative royalist meritorious families of the former Palts Kingdom.

‘The Ducal House of Lamberto.’

About seven years ago, they lost their heir, and with Edmund—their only remaining blood relative—held hostage here, they couldn’t move.

But Edmund’s maternal grandfather, Duke Lamberto, was the greatest warrior in the Palts Kingdom.

He simply couldn’t move because he had to hold back the invasion of monsters from the north.

According to the original story’s setting, if both the Cohen and Lamberto houses hadn’t been broken, the Palts Kingdom wouldn’t have fallen so futilely to Genovia.

Anyway, setting aside all that complicated background—

For Edmund, who had lost both parents, there was only one place he could rely on.

It wasn’t strange that I could guess that.

“I’m just assuming—am I wrong?”

Edmund shook his head.

‘Right. There’s no way I’m wrong. In the original story, Edmund does suffer greatly after escaping, but he does manage to reach his mother’s family.’

Then came a question I hadn’t expected at all.

“If you’re looking for maps… does that mean you’re coming with me?”

“…Huh? Me?”

Edmund’s red eyes seemed to blaze like flames.

“Once I escape, my uncle won’t leave the people in this villa alone.”

“……That’s true.”

That’s exactly what happened in the original story—he destroyed not only the people, but the building itself.

As if trying to persuade me, Edmund spoke again with renewed force.

“So you have to come with me too.”

It wasn’t let’s go together.

It was you must go.

For some reason, my ears felt ticklish.

I grinned and asked,

“Our Edmund, are you already worried about your big sister?”

I reached out and roughly ruffled Edmund’s hair.

The kid’s cheeks puffed up. That startlingly mature moment from just before melted away as if it had been a lie.

What remained was a cute, pitiful kid.

“Who are you calling big sister! We’re the same age anyway—!”

“Not yet, we’re not! You haven’t had your birthday yet, have you? Even if it’s just one year, I’m clearly your elder sister!”

How dare you, in front of a Korean like me, try to argue that a one-year difference doesn’t matter!

Edmund shouted back, his face red.

“So what if it’s only a few days away!”

“…Huh?”

Only a few days away?

That was when I remembered. The assassination attempt had happened shortly before Edmund’s fourteenth birthday.

And now, even that assassination attempt had already passed.

Which meant—

‘Edmund’s birthday is right around the corner?!’

And he’d said it himself—only a few days left.

It was really right in front of us.

I asked, a little urgently,

“When exactly is your birthday?”

At that, Edmund’s expression became extremely subtle.