BE 25

Chapter 25

Honestly, just because I was holding a dagger with my eyes closed didn’t mean anything was going to come to mind.

Nothing—just nothing at all.
But when I heard him muttering like that, I felt like if I admitted it, he’d just laugh at me.

“It’s… cold.”
“Keep talking.”
“……”

I had no idea what kind of answer my brother wanted.

So I tried my best to feel something, moving my fingertips. But the dagger was just cold and scary and gross—nothing else.

“I don’t know.”
“Open your eyes.”

I slowly lifted my eyelids.

My brother’s face said clearly that he didn’t think I couldn’t do it.
So what now? What was I supposed to do?

“…This is called a shuriken.”

He took away the dagger and placed something else in my hand.

It had five sharp blades curving inward like a swirling vortex.

Among all the weapons I’d ever held, it was the smallest—and the blackest.
As I stared at it in my palm, my brother continued,

“It’s also called a throwing star.”
“What’s that?”
“A weapon used mostly by assassins.”
“Assassins…?”
“Rats who kill people in secret.”

Ah.

Just hearing that made me want to drop it right away.

It felt so eerie that I hunched my shoulders. My brother spoke again.

“Why, want to try throwing it at me?”
“No way!”

I widened my eyes and refused instantly.

It was the first time I’d ever raised my voice at him, so he looked a little surprised—or maybe amused.

“You don’t want to?”
“Ah… sorry.”
“Even if you throw it, it won’t hit me.”
“I’m sorry. But I just… don’t like it. It feels awful.”

That’s right. Awful.

I didn’t know if that was the right way to say it, but—still. It was awful!

Blushing, I looked away.
He just watched me quietly.
Even though I stumbled over my words, I didn’t lie.

My brother finally took the shuriken back, and I quietly sighed in relief.

“This one…”
“It’s a bow. And these are arrows.”

Next, he handed me a weapon I’d never seen before.

I took the crescent-shaped bow, feeling a bit awkward. It felt… strange. Like a fresh breeze had brushed past me. Cool, light.

Breathing suddenly felt easier. My brother studied me.

“Um…”
“How does it feel?”
“I don’t hate it.”
“But you don’t like it either?”
“…It’s not scary.”

Maybe my answer was too vague, because he rubbed his lower lip with his finger.

I stood there, holding the bow in one hand and an arrow in the other, looking up at him.

But he must’ve found that answer acceptable enough, because he reached his hand out toward me.

‘Does he want me to give it back?’

I handed him the bow and arrow.

He glanced around the room and spotted a teacup on the table. Then, drawing the bowstring with the arrow in place, he said,

“Look at that teacup.”
“……?”

I obeyed quietly.

It was the same tea Sarina had poured for me earlier, saying it would help with digestion.

‘I haven’t even finished drinking it yet.’

The tea had cooled; no steam rose from it.

“Now look at me again,” he said.

So I looked.

What was I supposed to be seeing?
But I didn’t ask—because I still remembered what he’d said earlier. So instead, I watched carefully.

His arm stretched forward, the other pulled back, fingers interlocked—forming a perfect line.

The drawn string and arrow looked dangerously taut.

Standing straight like that, he looked like a poised leopard. His expression didn’t change.

“I saw… it.”
“Did you?”

Whish!

Crash!

I almost covered my ears in shock.

The arrow hit the teacup dead-on, shattering it completely. Tea splashed everywhere.

The peaceful terrace was now littered with sharp porcelain shards.

The moment I said I saw it, he had let go of the string.

Then, calmly, he asked again,

“Did you see?”

I froze, eyes wide, and slowly nodded.

He kept asking, but yes—I saw it.
So what about it?

“Now you can do it, right?”
“…What?”
“I just showed you how.”

Showed me?

He strode onto the terrace, unbothered by the shards that could cut him, and set a teapot right in the center of the table.

Even to my untrained eye, the pure white porcelain looked priceless.

Not just the teapot—the teacup he’d just shattered and the saucer beneath it had been so finely made they could’ve been called works of art.

“……”

He picked up a new arrow from the pile of weapons and held it out to me along with the bow.

I took them automatically, unsure.
Was this really how lessons worked?

The only lessons I’d ever had were reading lessons from Ehin.

The arrow looked too pretty to use even once.

Its shaft was black and smooth, feathered like a quill pen, and its tip gleamed with gold plating.

The large bow was also ornate—black with golden threads and red silk.

Remembering how my brother had stood, I gripped the center of the bow with my left hand and placed the arrow in my right.

Then I tried to pull the string—but ugh, it was as solid as stone. It wouldn’t budge.

“No, like this.”

Unable to bear watching, my brother came behind me and knelt down.

He adjusted my posture, placing a hand on my waist, guiding where my right hand should go, his voice brushing past my ear.

“Pull.”
“It’s heavy…”
“Pull.”

I clenched my teeth and used every ounce of strength I had—but it wouldn’t move.

My trembling arm was caught by his hand as he helped me apply more force.

Still, it was impossible. My arm muscles screamed.

My breath came out in ragged gasps.
The terrace loomed in front of me—the table, the tall teapot.

Even if I somehow managed to pull the string, I doubted I could ever hit it.
He probably thought the teapot would be easier since it was bigger than a teacup.

A voice whispered—it was the wind spirit, watching as always.

‘How?’

I couldn’t speak aloud. I was already struggling just to breathe.

The spirit must’ve sensed that, because it offered advice.

‘Cute?’

The spirit had never lied to me before.

So, biting my lower lip, I whined like a drenched puppy.

“Oppa…”
“……”
“Um… can’t I not do it? Please?”

At that moment, I felt him flinch hard behind me, arms still wrapped around me.

I couldn’t see his face, so I didn’t know what he was thinking—but trusting the spirit, I went all in.

I let go of everything and spun around, throwing myself into his arms.

The bow and arrow clattered to the floor.

He caught me, stunned. I looked up at Blake, pleading.

“It’s heavy… and all the weapons are so scary. Adeline is scared. I can’t do it.”
“……”
“Uuung… please?”

I shook my head pitifully, staring up at him like a hungry puppy begging for food.

After all that effort—I’d done my best!

But maybe being cute only works for people who actually are cute.
I’d just tried to copy Susan, the most charming girl from the orphanage, but my brother didn’t look impressed at all.

‘He’s mad!’

Well, honestly, if I were trying to teach someone seriously and they pulled this, I’d probably be annoyed too.

Looking at his unreadable expression, my face flushed red hot with embarrassment.

Still—the spirit told me to!

But I couldn’t tell him that.
So I just squirmed in shame, my cheeks burning, and tears welled up.

My brother, who’d been silently watching me, suddenly reached out and pinched my cheek.

“Ow.”

Soft.

He tugged my cheek like someone playing with a hamster’s face.

“Does that hurt?”
“A little…”

He brushed my reddened cheek with the back of his hand.

“So that’s all you want? To skip lessons? Honestly, I skip a lot myself.”
“…Huh?”
“Want me to massage your arm?”
“Eh?”
“The weapons? I’ll smash them all for you.”

Then—he really did. Like a madman, he began smashing everything in sight.

“W-wait, you’ll hurt yourself!”

Crash!

My tears stopped in an instant.
Panicking, I didn’t know what to do, so I just hugged him tightly.

“My lady! Are you all right?!”

It was then that the door burst open—Michael stormed in.

Behind him, the people watching from the hallway gasped in horror.

And no wonder—the room was full of broken shards, shattered furniture, destroyed weapons… and me, tear-streaked.

“My lady! Why are you crying?”
“She must’ve suffered something dreadful…!”

The maids fussed.

They didn’t dare approach, but then—I saw my father.

He looked like a savior come to rescue me.