YMPDKMA Chapter 30

Whenever I brought up this topic, our conversations always flowed the same way. Everything ended in distrust, the door slamming shut. Having revealed even what I wanted from him, I couldn't just leave things that way.

I bit my lip hard and grasped Tori's hand that rested on my shoulder. Even Tori, whom he'd trusted and cherished so much, had been abandoned. His trust might not be essential to survival.

"Actually, even if you never trust me, you can still have me. That kind of relationship exists in the world."

So I wanted to be necessary to Rupert in some way. So necessary he couldn't throw me away.

"I don't..."

Rupert, who'd been staring at Tori standing vacantly behind me, slowly opened his mouth.

"Want to have anything more."

Liar.

I remembered that he hadn't hesitated to commit any terrifying act to avoid losing power. He wasn't someone who'd be satisfied with a miserable situation like this.

"I'll be very useful."

At my words—half promise, half vow—a wrinkle too mature for his age formed on Rupert's neat brow.

"I'm already overwhelmed with what I have."

"You don't have to cherish me."

"No, I cherish what's mine."

There was a certain determination in his voice. It felt like he was thoroughly rejecting me, and I opened my mouth to argue back, but he cut me off a little faster.

"I could cherish you."

Rupert smiled crookedly, inappropriate to the situation. Faint light seeping through one corner of the window illuminated his neat forehead like a pale daylight moon. I suddenly realized he was no longer speaking like a girl. He'd stopped trying to hide it, clearly revealing his true voice.

"So prove it. Whether you have that much value."

A test given by the goblin of the old forest. There was no answer, but as someone lost in the middle of that forest, I had no choice but to grab hold of it.

"...sis."

"..."

"Sister."

Rehan's voice suddenly pierced through my reverie. Finding him right in front of my face with a worried expression, I smiled broadly. He must have been calling me for a while. I reached out and slowly stroked Rehan's hair.

"Mm?"

"Did something happen?"

"No, nothing."

"I heard Princess Lapherte is a difficult person. Is the work hard?"

I shook my head to hide my complicated feelings. Either not believing my denial or frowning with concern, he plopped down beside me.

"If it's hard, return to Bellua. Mother would welcome it too."

"I'm not going back. Never."

"Why not? I still don't understand why you entered the palace."

"That's..."

I shut my mouth in difficulty.

'Prove it.'

Rupert's cold voice surfaced. No matter how firmly he commanded, I wasn't confident how I could prove my necessity to him. Value was relative. My name and bloodline weren't worthless, but they weren't the kind that could be used right away.

I could argue that using me meant using Bellua, but Father wasn't someone who'd move Bellua for my sake. He hadn't moved Bellua even for himself. If he'd been the type to act so personally, he would've rushed over long ago to blurt out Rupert's identity and persuade him. That rock-like strength, his stubbornness bordering on foolishness and conviction. It wouldn't change even if I threw a tantrum.

Father knew about the Empress's humble origins. Even knowing the baseness of that bloodline, he'd stood by and watched the nobility of the imperial family—maintained purely through blood—be defiled. Yet he hadn't sided with Arnulf either. He'd grasped neither the Imperial Consort's hand nor the Empress's hand, drawing suspicion from both sides.

Why had he maintained neutrality during a time when the imperial family was this chaotic? My chest felt stuffy, a sigh escaped on its own. I buried my face in my hands.

"Are you really all right?"

Rehan's voice sank like my low mood. When things didn't go as planned, I'd sought out Rehan by habit. He was younger than me but always mature. Even though I couldn't confide my troubles to him, his presence alone was comforting.

I spread my arms toward my little brother who kept worrying and watching me with a bad expression. Even though it was something we'd done often when we were young, he hesitated for a long time before reluctantly coming into my arms. Oh my. Just because he'd grown a little, he had such a reluctant reaction—when he grew up completely, he probably wouldn't hug me at all. Upset for no reason, I squeezed him a little harder. His chestnut-like head flinched and stiffened.

"Rehan."

"...Yes."

"If I were to recommend Father seek asylum in Dunanbard because something terrible might happen to him, would he listen?"

"No."

The answer came immediately, without deliberation. It was an answer that understood Father too well, and I laughed like a sigh.

"Even if we'd all die if he didn't?"

"...Did you make that big of a mistake with the Princess?"

Rehan asked back worriedly. Why did this child immediately assume I'd made a mistake? I grumbled and pinched the cheek of my little brother who didn't trust me at all.

"No. I didn't make any mistakes!"

"That's fortunate."

"But if I do, I mean. Would he run away then?"

At my cautious voice, Rehan was silent for a moment. His face, lost in thought, sank among the dust that glowed hazily in the sunlight.

Thirteen-year-old Rehan looked more like a soldier than I'd expected. Though young, his disciplined bearing, gait, speech, rigid expression—all of it evoked a barren battlefield rather than Bellua's fields where we'd played together. At least if things were like before, until I turned eighteen, he wouldn't be drafted into war, but having to think of war when looking at my young brother left a bitter taste.

"No."

As if he'd reached an answer after his long deliberation, Rehan shook his head firmly. Right, he wouldn't. I agreed with Rehan's assertion.

"If you committed a crime, you'd receive the punishment together. Father is someone who doesn't know how to run away."

Pride was mixed slightly in that voice, making me find Rehan amusing. Like father, like son—Rehan and Father had quite a few similar aspects. Both were stubborn types who'd break rather than bend, never passing their responsibilities onto someone else.

Even at the height of his rebellious phase, Rehan had been a child who got scolded without fail when he did something deserving of it. He'd never run away, never tried to evade his wrongs. When his mistakes were questioned, he'd acknowledge them without wriggling out—a strangely docile rebel. A contradictory troublemaker who'd beat up classmates and skip classes but would never lie or pin his wrongs on his friends.

Rehan had been born with Bellua's temperament running thick in his veins, so if that upright nature came from his bloodline, Father would surely be the same. Without any sense, he'd shoulder everything alone. With that damned sense of responsibility. Whatever reason Bellua incurred Rupert's wrath, he wouldn't even think of avoiding it and would endure everything.

It was maddening. How many lives depended on Father alone for him to act like that? Wasn't that level of conviction actually irresponsible? Even I, who'd lived my whole life obediently under him, felt rebellious. Choked up for no reason, I glared at Rehan.

"Would you do the same?"

"What?"

"Rehan, if Bellua were to fall because of your mistake... you wouldn't run away? To take responsibility for what you did?"

Whether to understand my question or because my angry gaze flustered him, Rehan wrinkled his neat forehead. I waited for his answer, then flopped down flat.

The military academy's cadets were divided by grade and assigned rank, determining which facilities they could use. Rehan was still an underclassman, so he couldn't even have a private room. Also, the dormitory was off-limits to outsiders, including family. Yet here I was now, lying on Rehan's bed in such a place.

It smelled of dry wood here. A scent that suited Rehan very well, but I still thought he belonged more with documents than swords. Rehan had lived being praised for wielding the sword well, a prodigy, but his nature was that of a kind child. I'd never once imagined he'd become a soldier whose kill count was celebrated as merit.

But Rehan had taken the military academy entrance exam in secret even from our parents, then left for the capital without much comment. Just as he didn't know my reason for going to the palace, I didn't know his reason for entering the military academy. Perhaps our affectionate childhood had been fool's gold. In the end, I hadn't even discovered why he'd gone astray to the point of rebelling against Father.

Given a chance to turn things back, I didn't want to repeat my indifference, but Rupert's sharp rebuke had left me utterly dejected. Prove your necessity—wasn't that the same as saying he'd kill me if I had no value?

When I drooped my shoulders, interpreting it as his delayed answer, Rehan hurriedly spoke up.

"Yes. I think I would."

"Even if everyone dies if you don't run away? Like your wife dies and your children die and everyone just dies?"

"...Why are you making the question harder?"

My little brother made a small sound like a groan, as if resentful. I laughed hehe and buried my face in the pillow. The pillow was clearly white, but when I burrowed in deeply, it flickered black. Swept away by the dark waves, when I closed my eyes, I couldn't see anything.

I imagined the troubled expression Rehan must be making. Furrowed eyes—he might be covering them with one hand out of habit. Imagining Rehan's face with my eyes closed was very familiar to me. After Rehan and Father were taken away, I'd enter the room my little brother used when he was young and picture his face. While resenting my memory that kept growing dim.

Ah, a gloomy memory.