THBO 37

Chapter 37

Her heart dropped.

Like a child caught sneaking candy.

Whether Alexis noticed Cecilia’s eyes widening in panic or not, he kept one hand firmly around her while the other began to undo his blindfold.

The first thing his violet eyes saw upon escaping the darkness was brilliant gold.

It was dawn after a long nightmare, a refuge finally found after endless wandering.

For a moment, unable to distinguish dream from reality, the man pulled the wrist in his grasp toward him—

With a force both desperate and powerful, as though he intended to imprison her in his arms forever.

“Alex?”

Startled, Cecilia pressed a hand to her chest. Snapped back to his senses by the brief contact, Alexis released her wrist.

Cecilia quickly straightened up and looked down at her younger brother, who let out a deep breath.

Because of the angle, she couldn’t clearly read his expression.

Not even the look in his eyes.

Composing herself, she watched as he neatly folded the black cloth that had been caught between his fingers.

“…I came to return your shirt.”

“I see.”

His voice was slightly hoarse.

While Alexis gestured for the books to be quiet, Cecilia continued observing him.

As if sensing her persistent gaze, the corner of his lips curved gently.

“Um… does your cheek hurt a lot?”

“If you’re apologizing, then you’re seriously ill, Sister.”

“Words like that make whatever affection I had disappear.”

“As if that’s new.”

It really wasn’t new.

No—perhaps she should be grateful he was at least self-aware about his temperament.

I can’t live like this.

Unaware of his sister’s resignation, Alexis calmly organized the documents around him.

He moved them by hand at first, then apparently got annoyed and simply used magic.

Cecilia sat down on the now-neat sofa and shot him a glare.

Even when she deliberately pouted, Alexis only smiled quietly.

There was a hint of fondness in it, which made Cecilia narrow her eyes.

Suddenly, Alexis caught a single strand of her hair and poked her cheek with the tip.

“I am five years older than you.”

“Oh? Then should I treat you like an elder?”

So your cheek doesn’t hurt that much after all?

Once again—inevitably—Cecilia sighed and picked up the item caught at her fingertips.

The black cloth that had covered Alexis’s eyes.

His blindfold.

The irritation that had flared up earlier instantly cooled.

She stared at the blindfold for a moment, then lifted her gaze to his face—now stripped of all humor.

This time, Alexis wore a somewhat bored smile as he ruffled his own hair.

“Alex.”

“…Yes.”

Before leaving for the Mage Tower, young Alexis hadn’t worn a blindfold.

He had been blessed with the ability to sleep anywhere, anytime, simply by closing his eyes.

“Was it… after you went to the Mage Tower that you started using it?”

It was a foolish question.

Cecilia watched his ambiguous expression while turning over stiff thoughts in her mind.

“Do you have insomnia?”

Alexis merely smiled.

He didn’t even correct his posture as he faced her.

As his bitter smile spread like dying embers, her heart jolted.

The soundless scoff settling on his slanted lips made the answer painfully clear.

‘His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince has changed greatly since the Mage Tower.’

The words Thierry Estier had spoken at Ribe Academy.

That brief remark tore through time and struck her mind.

“Alex.”

“Yes.”

But Cecilia couldn’t bring herself to get straight to the point.

Her pounding heart had lodged itself in her throat.

While Alexis had been at the Monte-Fert Mage Tower, she had written to him almost every day.

Until the greenery of Saint-Luke had turned red and gold, until all the leaves fell and only bare branches remained.

Until buds sprouted on those branches, spring arrived, colorful flowers bloomed, and migratory birds returned with summer, heralding longer days.

Through seven full cycles of this endless rotation, she wrote faithfully.

Until the grown young man returned and strode arrogantly through the gardens of Pont-Leif.

…And yet, among the thousands of letters she sent, not a single reply ever came.

Alexis was not the sort to deliberately ignore letters.

Especially not hers.

“If it’s insomnia—”

“It’s not serious. Given my schedule, sleeping less is actually convenient.”

“A disease isn’t exactly a benefit.”

“It just happened.”

Cecilia turned fully toward him.

Their knees were close enough to touch, yet she didn’t pull away.

“What about getting a prescription?”

“Because of mana sensitivity, mild medications don’t work.”

And stronger sleeping pills would be far too harmful to his body.

Disheartened, Cecilia lowered her head.

Alexis’s hands were neatly placed near her knees.

Veins stood out prominently on the back of his hand—long, straight fingers, undeniably beautiful.

She couldn’t help imagining what those hands had done at the Mage Tower.

Mages of Monte-Fert were said to hunt those defeated by madness.

Alex… did you, too…?

But back then, he had only been twelve.

Even if Alexis hadn’t taken part in the hunts, she could easily imagine what those seven years must have been like.

The letters that were never answered.
His changed behavior and combat style.
And above all—

Insomnia.

Cecilia slowly lifted her lowered gaze.

It seemed Alexis had been watching her the entire time; their eyes clicked together instantly.

“…I’m sorry.”

The man’s expression crumpled at once.

“For what, exactly?”

“I mean… I kept asking about your past seven years.”

Not just once, but obsessively, again and again.

“It’s not something to be poked at lightly. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

“As I told you yesterday, I am not weak. I’m no longer the twelve-year-old brat who needed your protection.”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“Don’t apologize.”

Alexis repeated slowly.

“You never need to apologize to me.”

“……”

“So don’t apologize. Don’t feel sorry. Don’t carry even a shred of guilt. You can do anything.”

The words settled gently, like a plea disguised as a vow—calm, and therefore unshakable.

“I’m strong enough to endure even if you tear my heart apart over and over again.”

“I wouldn’t tear it apart—”

“I asked you difficult questions too. Why you call Alicia a puppy when you’re alone.”

Ah. Right.

They really were siblings—doing the exact same thing.

“I asked because I wanted to understand you. Isn’t that the same for you?”

Cecilia stared at him, then let her lips curve into a small smile.

“I wanted to understand. Will you tell me, then?”

“Will you tell me?”

“No.”

At her quick refusal, Alexis let out a quiet laugh, as if he’d expected it.

Reading the room, Cecilia naturally leaned back. Thankfully, instead of closing the distance, he changed the subject.

“Then, Sister. What did you do with Eugenie Riville?”

“……”

“I’m very much looking forward to hearing.”

Good heavens—he’s scary in a completely different way.

Grumbling inwardly, Cecilia reported the punishment as it was.

Listening silently, Alexis pointed out the exact same issue as Callia had.

“Ten years in a convent?”

“She’ll need time too—”

“—What time? You’re playing saint again. Do you really want to save her that badly?”

She deliberately put on a blank expression, but it didn’t fool a perceptive man.

Alexis snorted and began listing.

“Eugenie Riville is an only child. That means she’s responsible for inheriting the Riville barony. But after causing an incident of this magnitude, becoming the heir is impossible—and arranging a marriage to bring in a son-in-law is out too.”

“……”

“There are three remaining options.”

He raised three fingers.

“Bring in someone from a collateral line.”

One finger.

“Transfer the title to another family.”

Another.

“Or bring in the baron’s illegitimate child and make them the direct heir.”

And finally—

“Unfortunately, the Riville family has no collateral branches. And no respectable noble family would hand over their title to another house.”

“…Right. The baron will probably bring in an illegitimate child.”

The most commonly used solution—messy, but convenient.

Cecilia clicked her tongue and added,

“But bringing in a bastard while a legitimate heir is still alive? That invites trouble later, so instead—”

Kill the flawed legitimate heir.

Simple. Effective.

No matter how beloved Eugenie Riville was as an only daughter, she wouldn’t be more precious to her father than his title.

That was the nature of nobility.

Alexis rolled his eyes, having clearly understood her unfinished sentence.

“Which is why you decided to throw Eugenie Riville into a convent. Ten years is enough preparation time to install another heir without killing the legitimate one.”

“Alex. I admit Eugenie crossed the line. But—”

“Death would be excessive?”

Cecilia hesitated, then nodded.

After cautiously checking his expression, she carefully reached out and tightly gripped his shirt sleeve.

She knew that the sentence she had passed could be overturned at any moment by the man beside her.

“Alex.”

“……”

“Being murdered at that age… that’s not right.”

She looked down at her knees, then peeked back up.

Thankfully, Alexis’s expression had softened.

He ruffled his hair with his free hand, then sharply turned his head away, covering his face.

A quiet sigh followed.

“Very well.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Even if she comes out after ten years—”

“Mm. I figured.”

Eugenie Riville would be completely buried.

Treated as the family’s disgrace, her very existence denied.

Had she ever imagined that a moment’s impulse would bring such total ruin?

Cecilia could only click her tongue at the girl’s ignorance.

“Well then, Alex. I should go see Mother now. Will you keep studying?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Have a good day.”

Releasing his sleeve, the woman rose gracefully.

Alexis took her hand at just the right moment and gently pressed his lips to it.

“Have a pleasant afternoon.”

“Thank you.”

Her departing steps were light, like a swan’s wings.

The fluttering hem of her skirt stirred a familiar thirst.

As the door closed, the man slowly shut his eyes.

“Cecilia.”

Cecilia Lucien.

There are people whose names alone ache unbearably.

‘…I’m sorry.’

Her apology echoed in his ears once more.

He hadn’t known that a single word could be imbued with such tenderness—or that tenderness could awaken madness so deeply.

Naturally, his thoughts returned to yesterday.

To how she hadn’t truly cared about the vile insult he’d received.

To how she didn’t cherish herself at all.

Just as Cecilia wondered about Alexis’s seven years, Alexis couldn’t help but wonder about hers.

Especially after glimpsing the rot festering inside her.

Cecilia.

You are someone who forced a flower called kindness to bloom from a rotted tree.

Normally, that flower wouldn’t be kindness at all.

Normally, rot that deep would bloom hatred, resentment, or despair.

Yet you bloomed kindness—even if it had no fragrance.

I know how desperate that must have been.

I know how painfully you bloomed, how earnestly you shared that kindness with the world.

And that’s why…

I want to tear you out by the roots.

When she arrived at her mother’s door, a servant bowed and hurried inside.

Left alone, Cecilia took a deep breath and fidgeted with her fingers.

She’d crossed one great mountain—Alexis—so her mother should be easier.

“Please enter, Your Highness.”

Cecilia quietly stepped forward and entered.