IDTBAVITL CH 8

Episode 8 —

As Grandfather said, there was no winning against Johann in a battle of words.

“Why does the little one get up so early? Kids are supposed to sleep in.”

“I’ve been getting up late these days, actually.”

“Now?”

I nodded. And it was true.

In the past, I would rise before dawn and say my prayers. It wasn’t to that extent now, but I still got up early in the morning.

Johann looked faintly suspicious.

“Rob, have you been like that since you were at the orphanage?”

I was merely being careful not to get caught praying as the guardian of the sacred relic.

The reason I woke early was to pray—but he seemed to be misunderstanding something.

Since Johann wouldn’t back down until he got an answer, I just nodded.

“Those bastards. What did they do to the kids? I should’ve beaten them to a pulp. This won’t do.”

Johann’s red eyes glinted chillingly. At that moment, I had no idea what was about to happen.

A few days later, a grim rumor spread: the orphanage director who had been in prison had vanished without a trace.

No one saw her after that. I knew Johann had been away from home the day before the director disappeared.

It was highly suspicious, but seeing him grinning at me made me afraid to ask. Sometimes it’s better not to know.

With an innocent face, Johann told me:

“Rob, there’s no need for that anymore. Isn’t it nice to sleep in as much as you want?”

“I still like getting up early.”

He looked as if he couldn’t believe it, but he didn’t press the matter anymore. Maybe he was respecting my opinion.

He pushed back hair that had grown a little long and black; the gesture looked rather adult.

Me, I was an adult on the inside. Maybe because my body had gotten younger, my heart had too?

Suddenly Johann said something out of the blue.

“You’re a really curious child.”

Me—curious? No one had ever said that to me. If anything, I found Johann curious.

Could I have treated a suddenly appearing younger sister kindly from the very start?

A younger sister…

Right. I had a younger sibling too. Leili White, a little sister.

A child who enjoyed every happiness, receiving her parents’ love—unlike me.

While I lived under Grandfather’s strict instruction to become the successor to the relic, she was loved as the young lady of the White Ducal House.

I had envied that, deep down. I wanted to be loved too.

And seeing Leili look at me with such a sweet expression, I loved her as well.

Just as others loved her. But Leili betrayed me—and in the end, she killed me.

All because of something she wanted for herself.

I remembered that face, looking down at me in the dungeon and sneering.

I’ll kill you.

As anger swelled and I bit my lip, Johann reached out and tugged at both my cheeks.

“Don’t make a scary face, squirt. Come play with your big brother.”

When Johann’s face filled my vision, the anger melted away like snow.

I caught the hand that was pulling my cheeks. He took his hand from my face.

“Did it hurt?”

“No. But it’s silly.”

“That’s only because you don’t know how cute you are.”

Cute—he just wanted to tease me. Johann was a master at smooth talk.

He flopped down beside me. Good thing the bed was big. Nearly as tall as a grown man now, he rolled around like a child.

Watching him, I burst out laughing for no reason. I’d thought he seemed like an adult a moment ago, but now he looked like nothing more than a big kid.

Johann lifted a pillow and tossed it at me. Laughing, I fell backward. He’d only thrown it lightly, so it didn’t hurt at all.

Maybe he’d thrown it because I’d laughed at him, but I couldn’t stop laughing. I simply loved this moment.

Until Basha came in, Johann and I tumbled about on the bed, playing.

The sun that had been hidden by clouds in the morning sparkled by afternoon. It was so peaceful it was almost boring.

Perhaps I looked restless; Basha suggested a walk in the garden.

We went out and strolled together while the servants bustled about cleaning and tidying.

If they were sweeping and polishing a place that was normally spotless, someone must be visiting.

I wondered who it could be that had everyone so on edge. I asked Basha:

“Everyone’s terribly busy. Someone’s coming, aren’t they?”

“……”

She kept silent at my question. From her expression, it seemed hard to answer.

I stepped on the snow piled on the ground for no reason—so she wouldn’t feel awkward. The crisp squeak was very pleasing.

After hesitating, Basha answered cautiously:

“It is true that a guest who comes every year will be visiting. But I cannot tell you who it is, my lady. Only that they are a person of great eminence in this country.”

“…A person of great eminence?”

I stopped and looked at Basha. Her face was as expressionless as ever.

“You won’t have to worry about crossing paths. They will be in a part of the house far from where you stay.”

“Really?”

I wouldn’t have minded even if we did meet, but I was curious who it was. If they were eminent and had to be kept secret, they were likely from the imperial family.

Could it be Prince Adrian?

I decided probing further would only put Basha in a difficult spot, so I let it go. I walked slowly through the garden without another word.

I was lost in thought for some time when a voice sounded behind me, and I turned.

“My dear, what has you thinking so hard?”

“Father?”

My father, Raymon Calix, heir of the Grand Ducal House, was taking exercise with the help of Charles, the chief butler.

Exercise, though, meant a walk in the garden. He looked much better than when I first saw him, which was a relief.

Back then, he had looked so grave that I’d felt uneasy. Now his color was good, and he was up and about—thank goodness.

I hurried over to him.

“Are you out for a walk?”

“Yes. You too, it seems.”

“Yes. The weather’s lovely.”

Father stared intently at me, then asked, sounding concerned:

“With the weather so fine, what worries our Rob?”

I had felt it before: Father seemed to have some keen sense all his own.

“That’s not it. I’m just… bored.”

“You ought to socialize with peers, but with the house full of men, you must be lonely.”

Well, that wasn’t my concern—but it wasn’t something I could be honest about either.

Then Basha spoke up carefully:

“What if we arranged a circle of young ladies around the young miss’s age?”

Father’s expression brightened at the maid’s suggestion.

“A good idea. Find children from families that suit our daughter and draw up a list.”

“Yes. I’ll prepare a roster and submit it.”

The person concerned had no thoughts on the matter, but they were deciding among themselves. It wasn’t anything new; things like this happened all the time.

Protesting would be useless. I was resigning myself when—

“Come to think of it, we haven’t asked you. My dear, what do you think? About making friends.”

“Pardon?”

The unexpected question flustered me.

“Your thoughts are the most important—about making friends.”

My thoughts were important?

It felt strange to have anyone ask me something like that.

What was I supposed to say now? Did I need friends? I’d never had any.

When I didn’t answer, Father simply waited.

The sudden question made me impatient. My head went blank; I didn’t know how to reply.

Father’s expression gradually hardened. Perhaps, since I wasn’t answering, he thought I disliked the idea.

“If you’re not ready yet, there’s no need to force it. Overthinking isn’t good either.”