Chapter 10
The Less Tiny One and the Even Tinier One (8)
They were definitely different, yet strangely the same.
It sounded odd, but that was exactly how it felt.
The twins looked so alike that, at a glance, the only way to tell them apart was by the length of their hair.
“Are you really okay? Does it hurt a lot? Are you badly hurt? If you are, I’m really sorry… No, even if you aren’t, I’m still sorry….”
“I just tripped. It’s nothing serious, so stop apologizing.”
Fortunately—or unfortunately—their personalities were very different.
Reed was restless and constantly checking Cyril’s reaction, nothing like Adrienne.
The real Adrienne, meanwhile, didn’t care at all about how badly her brother was shaking.
In the end, Reed hurriedly left the room, saying he would bring some water.
Cyril thought he could have just called a maid, but he didn’t stop him.
“What are you doing?”
“This helps.”
Adrienne replied with absolute confidence as she gently kneaded Cyril’s hand.
With her small hands, pressing carefully and earnestly.
Now that he thought about it, she’d been doing that ever since he was lying on the floor earlier.
Cyril recalled a dream he’d once had, prompted by her touch.
Was it some kind of prophetic dream?
Thinking that made him feel unpleasant, as if Adrienne were becoming someone important to him.
Still, Cyril stayed silent.
Her clumsy but sincere effort didn’t feel bad.
“It must have hurt. I’m sorry.”
Her whisper grew quieter toward the end.
She’d beaten him with a wooden sword and now this—what was she even apologizing for?
Cyril was about to brush it off without thinking, but then he paused.
“I was just going to look quietly. I thought you might wake up if I opened the door…. But the light was on, so Reed and I were just going to take a quick look….”
Adrienne, who usually blinked constantly, was keeping her eyes stubbornly open for once.
Only then did Cyril realize she was holding back tears.
Her large eyes shimmered with moisture, clearly on the verge of spilling if she blinked even once.
That stubbornness was very like Adrienne.
Honestly, Cyril didn’t want to blame the siblings.
There was nothing to blame them for in the first place.
The problem lay with him.
Because he had lived so close to death, he believed in ghosts—and believed that one might come for him at any time.
So he’d fainted just from seeing the siblings reflected in the window.
Fainted.
Looking at the situation objectively, Cyril felt dazed.
How ridiculous was that?
Of course, if he wanted to make excuses, he had plenty.
In pitch-black darkness, two identical faces had suddenly appeared, and the lamp had lit only half of each face.
Two identical half-lit faces—it would have been stranger not to be startled.
“I’m sleepy.”
Still, Cyril didn’t want to explain all of that to Adrienne.
Doing so would have felt pathetic.
So he deliberately yawned and changed the subject.
Normally, he would never behave so ungracefully in front of anyone—Adrienne or otherwise.
This was entirely intentional.
“Adrienne, aren’t you sleepy too?”
“No.”
Despite saying no, Adrienne yawned as if it were contagious.
She looked confused, as if she didn’t know why she’d done it.
As her small mouth closed after stretching wide, a single tear slid down her cheek.
Cyril casually wiped it away with his finger.
“Go back and sleep now. I’m going to sleep too.”
Pulling his hand free, Cyril gently pushed Adrienne away.
Adrienne blinked again, as if she’d never been holding back tears, and smiled softly.
Crying and then smiling.
So many things to cry about, so many things to smile about.
Cyril thought cynically—yet he found himself smiling back anyway.
Because Adrienne looked better when she smiled.
＊ ＊ ＊
The twins were completely different in temperament.
Reed was a bookworm who always smelled faintly of paper, while Adrienne couldn’t stand staying in one place for long.
Cyril fell somewhere in between by nature, but in practice, he mostly acted alongside Adrienne.
“Cyril!”
“I’m going out now.”
As Cyril stepped out of his room in simpler clothes, Adrienne, who had been squatting nearby, jumped to her feet.
“……”
“What?”
Why, indeed—that was what Cyril wanted to ask.
The white shorts that reached just below her knees were clearly new.
And given that they were shorts, they were obviously not Adrienne’s.
“I borrowed Reed’s clothes.”
Adrienne confessed as if reading Cyril’s gaze.
Her tone was bold, but the way her hand drifted toward her ear suggested she was probably lying.
“Does Reed know?”
“He’ll know tomorrow.”
Of course.
That little habit always came out when she lied, though she herself seemed completely unaware of it.
Cyril silently vowed never to tell her.
“You sure borrowed them well.”
He replied mockingly, though Reed likely wouldn’t care at all.
Having watched the twins closely for the past year, Cyril could say that with confidence.
Whether Countess Parte, who was visiting the castle tomorrow, would feel the same was another matter.
In any case, Adrienne looked very comfortable.
Judging by how she’d tied her curly hair up high, she was clearly planning to run around freely.
That was something Cyril liked about her.
Running around outside with Adrienne made him feel as though he was being reassured that his body had truly grown healthier.
“Adrienne.”
Cyril called her as he looked at her round forehead, a sudden thought crossing his mind.
Somehow, it felt like their eye level had become more similar.
“Hm?”
“Nothing.”
If he said it out loud, Adrienne would immediately run to measure their heights against a tree.
The marks carved into tree trunks were always higher for Adrienne than for him.
Cyril didn’t want to experience another unnecessary defeat based on vague intuition.
“Let’s go to Mount Paradi today!”
Adrienne tilted her head briefly, then brightened and shouted.
Since Casinel’s territory bordered a mountain range, tall mountains surrounded it on three sides.
From small hills to massive peaks, there were many mountains, each with its own name.
The two usually climbed the small mountain closest to Casinel Castle.
Calling it a mountain was generous—it was closer to a hill.
Even so, it had taken them months just to conquer that one.
The main reason, of course, was Cyril.
“Paradi? Did the count allow it?”
“Yeah. He said it’ll be quiet for a while.”
Seeing her relaxed hands, it didn’t look like a lie.
If the cautious count had agreed so easily, he’d likely sent knights ahead to secure the mountain.
He cherished Adrienne dearly.
Another mountain.
Cyril nodded as if indifferent, saying, “Fine,” but inside he was thrilled.
They wouldn’t climb very high, but still—it was a new place.
To Cyril, who had once only seen the world through his bedroom window, that alone felt like a dream.
No, even thinking of going out so naturally felt dreamlike.
Many things that were unimaginable in Tesar were everyday life in Casinel.
And if he had to name the biggest reason that dream had become reality—
much as he hated to admit it—it was Adrienne.
His petty desire to beat her had ignited his will to live.
So it wasn’t wrong.
“Cyril! I’m going ahead!”
“Wait, at least a little!”
Shouting energetically, the primary contributor ran ahead.
Cyril hurriedly started running after Adrienne, who was already far ahead.
His long strides struck the ground with strength unlike before.
＊ ＊ ＊
“Come in.”
Knock, knock.
Cyril answered at the short knock.
It had to be Adrienne—no need to even ask.
After barging into his room freely for so long, Adrienne had started knocking again.
Whether she’d been scolded by the count or reprimanded by Countess Parte, there had to be a reason.
Whatever the reason, Cyril didn’t mind the change.
After all, she was eight now—it was time she learned some manners.
Cyril even felt proud, thinking, Adrienne is growing up.
“Cyril!”
“I said come in.”
“Open the door!”
If she was going to change, she could at least change that annoying personality too.
Interrupted during a peaceful reading session, Cyril frowned.
“You can knock, but you can’t open the door yourself—”
“Here. A present.”
The moment he opened the door, a soft floral scent rushed in.
Before he could even register what it was, Adrienne pushed something into his arms.
Cyril found himself holding a large bundle of yellow flowers.
They were coreopsis, commonly found on the back hills at this time of year, when the sun was warm.
“……”
No wonder she couldn’t open the door.
The unbound bouquet was so large he had to hold it with both arms.
At this point, it was impressive she’d managed to knock at all.
Cyril looked down at the flowers Adrienne had forced into his arms.
Yellow everywhere.
Just yellow flowers.
That was the problem—he had no idea why she was giving them to him.
“I thought of you when I saw them. Aren’t they pretty?”
Adrienne grinned when he looked at her questioningly.
Her smile clearly pressured him to agree immediately.
But Cyril focused more on her words.
She thought of him when she saw these flowers?
Why?
“…Why did you think of me when you saw these?”
“Well, your eyes are the same color. Both yellow!”
The reason was so simple it made his thinking feel wasted.
His eyes were yellow, the flowers were yellow—that was it.
“Why give flowers to a guy?”
“What guy? You’re Cyril.”
“I can’t even show this to anyone.”
Cyril muttered quietly.
He said that, but he had no intention of showing them anyway.
What would be the point of proving to Adrienne that he was a man?
“What can’t you show?”
“I’ve noticed this for a while, but your hearing is really good.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“What kind of conversation am I supposed to have with you….”
What would it feel like to live so simply?
Sometimes Cyril felt an urge to look inside Adrienne’s head.
Maybe it was completely blank.
Or maybe it was an endless empty field.
Still, she looked happy.
And that, at least, was enough.
