YMPDKMA Chapter 31

I hurriedly opened my eyes and confirmed Rehan actually existing in front of me. His nose bridge falling straight, his face grown a little more since the entrance ceremony. Whose little brother is he to be so handsome? Pleased, my lips curved into a smile on their own.

"Does that include you?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'd run away."

Rehan's answers always lacked hesitation to an uncanny degree. It wasn't like he'd imagined this situation beforehand. He'd deliberate but never give vague answers. I looked back at Rehan, who'd run away even if only because of me, and smiled faintly.

"You're better than Father."

Our father wouldn't do that. He told me to properly bear Bellua's responsibility. But I never understood what exactly that responsibility was, and I still don't.

I'd lived doing my best in my own way, fulfilling my duty as someone born noble. I hadn't tormented the estate's people, but rather tried to look after them diligently. I lacked outstanding ability so I hadn't brought great honor to Bellua, but that was just due to innate lack of talent, not my fault.

In an empire where all power and positions passed from father to son in the first place, there wasn't much a woman born here could do. In Belnerny, there was only one way for a woman to grasp power. Backing a powerful person.

But Father wouldn't have wanted me to become the mistress of some power holder engaging in pillow talk. So at least before Father, I'd been upright. I'd lived as he wished. I didn't regret my past self.

I hadn't known about Bellua and the imperial family's relationship, and my ignorance wasn't something the me of that time could have helped. Trusting Father unconditionally was my only mistake and flaw and seed of regret, but if I didn't trust Father to protect me, who could I trust?

Had his conviction been weighty enough to abandon his wife, children, and all the dependents and collateral relatives who'd trusted only Father? Did he protect it in the end? Not knowing Father's intentions, I couldn't know whether he'd achieved what he'd hoped for.

Bellua was a family that had maintained neutrality since ancient times, protecting the imperial family's very existence. As long as Belnerny imperial blood could continue, it didn't matter who sat on the throne.

So the kind of proof Rupert wanted from me wouldn't be that sort. If it were, he wouldn't have harmed Father, who'd protected Bellua's neutral ideology like his life.

Rupert would want me to use Father's name and Bellua in a way favorable to him. But Bellua wasn't a power I could grasp and wield right now. The task before me was overwhelming—I couldn't breathe.

I pressed my forehead hard against Rehan's hand where it lay before the pillow. His knuckles—roughened by training—flinched, but Rehan didn't shove my face away callously. He bent down to examine the side of my face.

"If something's troubling you, please tell me."

"Telling you won't solve it."

"Am I too young to be of any help?"

"You're young? I'm young too. It's not that."

I twisted my head to look up at Rehan. His face—rigid and frozen—was cute. Suddenly tracing back memories of how adorable my little brother had been, I grinned.

"Should we go together and act cute for Father?"

"...Pardon?"

"Maybe he'll grant my request if we do. Try it with me. Faaaaather."

"..."

There was no way Rehan—who'd been a taciturn battlefield soldier even in the old days, putting actual war-hardened soldiers to shame—would imitate my wheedling tone. His face grew even more rigid as he pulled away the hand I'd been nuzzling and stepped back sharply. He stood up entirely and walked to the desk.

I made my whining even more nasal.

"Come on, try it? Faaaaather. Reeeehan."

"No."

I dragged out his short name unnecessarily and pestered him, but Rehan refused mercilessly—said he wouldn't do it even if the sky split in two. I got up from my seat, scrunching my nose at Rehan's stubbornness.

"Father would like it."

"He likes it when you do it. If I do it, I'll get hit."

I don't think Father ever raised Rehan with beatings. I tried to recall memories of Father scolding Rehan, then rubbed my stomach.

Since I'd grabbed him right after class ended, Rehan was still in his cadet uniform. Anyone could tell he was a student. Come to think of it, restaurants near the military academy supposedly gave cadet discounts.

"Rehan, aren't you hungry?"

"Didn't you just eat dinner?"

It was true that I'd dragged Rehan—who claimed he wasn't hungry because he'd tried the academy cafeteria earlier—to force-feed him a thick steak for dinner. I pursed my lips, embarrassed.

"No, who said I'm hungry?"

"Should we go out?"

"I'm not hungry. Not at all."

"There's a wheat noodle shop in front of school that stays open late."

Wheat noodles. Perfect food for the chilly winter weather. Just thinking of the salty seafood broth made my mouth water. Instead of craving desserts and sweets, I'd started loving meat and savory foods much more. Both were fattening kinds, which made me hesitate. What if I'm still fat when I turn fifteen?

"Are you hungry?"

When I asked Rehan back and quickly wiped the drool from my lips, he looked down at me with laughter in his eyes. He seemed to be holding back, worried I'd be offended, but I saw his lips trembling. Unable to contain himself, he snickered and pressed his hand to his forehead.

"Yes."

"Then we have to go eat! I'm your big sister—I can't let you starve."

Rehan was still a growing boy. He'd be hungry all the time. I moved my legs purely for my little brother's sake.

The red capital—Champagne—smelled thick with dry stone in winter. Belnerny was a country built by pioneers who'd cultivated barren wasteland with sorcery where not a blade of grass grew. So the trees that hadn't drunk enough water were generally thin, and the leaves that only received light were yellowed.

Even the rocks that looked sturdy were hollow inside when you tapped them. After walking several blocks along red stone walls riddled with dry holes that seemed ready to crumble at a touch—made from splitting such rocks—the wheat noodle shop Rehan mentioned appeared.

The shop glowing with warm light alone on a darkened street was shabby and worn beyond comparison to 5th Avenue restaurants. It matched the descriptor of a popular spot frequented by military academy cadets who mingled according to grade rather than status. But it didn't match Rehan, who'd grown up in conservative Bellua, so I turned to him with curiosity.

Father was frugal but not informal. Taking after him, Rehan was even more courteous and aristocratic than me. At my questioning look, he scratched his nose with an awkward expression.

"Is it not to your liking after all?"

"Huh? No, I don't dislike the restaurant. I like it. I'm just surprised you'd come to a place like this."

"I don't come often, but it's a shop that suits winter."

Rehan answered in a low voice and opened the shop door like he was familiar with it. Even though it was past dinner time, there were still some customers—must be a genuinely popular place. As soon as the door opened, warm air wrapped around my body and gently thawed my frozen hands.

Since there was no host, Rehan and I found empty seats ourselves. The moment we sat down, a boy who'd been at the counter rushed over and greeted Rehan warmly.

"Cadet Dietrich! Long time no see."

But Rehan's reaction was stiff enough to contrast with the beaming boy. Without acknowledging his greeting, he pointed at the menu with his finger and ordered.

"Seafood, meat. Hot."

"Will you die if you return a greeting? Our Cadet Dietrich—no, Rehan?"

"I never gave you permission to call me by my first name."

"Yes, as you wish."

At Rehan's cold words, the server boy pouted and shrugged his shoulders. Anyone would be discouraged receiving such treatment to their face, but he looked completely unbothered as he wrote down the order. Soon the boy noticed me sitting there watching him and Rehan and opened his mouth in a circle.

"Oh, you changed girls?"

"Nonsense."

"Last time you came with that delicate girl with pale, washed-out blue hair—you know, like poorly rinsed laundry."

I immediately knew who the girl Rehan had brought to the shop was. Water-colored hair wasn't common, and if it was a girl Rehan would meet in the capital, it could only be Riche.

"Just put in the order."

Rehan kicked the shin of the boy chattering about him being a playboy in front of me, then frowned and dismissed him. As the server's spiky back of the head retreated, I opened my mouth carefully.

"Are you meeting with Riche?"