Giselle was touching her lips as if they were something foreign.
I could only stare blankly at her in a daze.
I could barely comprehend what had just happened to me, or what Giselle had said.
"Your cheeks are rough.
Your skin is dry and the area under your eyes is sunken, Ain."
Giselle spoke as if she were reviewing a meal she'd just eaten.
The setting sun was about to completely disappear below the ridge.
Giselle headed toward the window, now dark and barely lit by a single lamp.
"It's late, so I'll be going now.
Next time I come, I'll bring some medicine.
You'd prefer my care over Iris's, wouldn't you, Ain?"
Giselle finished what she had to say and jumped out the window, disappearing.
As soon as her form vanished from sight, bewilderment was immediately replaced by anger.
'Fucking bitch. Not even a sound.'
It would be nice if she failed to cast her magic and plummeted to her death.
All that came through the open window was the sound of the cool evening breeze.
As the wind touched my skin, the sensation of Giselle's lips came to mind, making me feel disgusted.
I went to the window and closed it, though it would no longer lock.
I wanted to scream in the room that had fallen silent again.
The luxurious hardwood floor beneath my feet seemed more rotten and decayed than the floor of my own home.
The air in this place, which had just been ventilated, reeked worse than a sewer.
I went to Iris's bookshelf and pulled out any book.
Even if I tried to read a grimoire, I wouldn't be able to distinguish what words were written anyway.
As long as it could help me forget that lily-scented perfume again, anything would do.
I sat down under the lamp and opened what appeared to be an old hardcover grimoire.
'Haah... Se, Sebastian....'
'Miss... how lewd... getting worked up over just a stolen kiss....'
"......?"
I closed the book and looked at the cover again.
Runic script that looked like crawling earthworms, scratches here and there, and worn pages showing clear signs of use.
Anyone would think it was a grimoire. What the hell, did I open it wrong?
'You beast... ...I... follow... so... do you like it...?'
Reading it again, it was unmistakably an erotic novel.
It would have been designated as a forbidden book in the Empire.
Knowing Iris's personality, she probably bought it by mistake just looking at the cover.
My desire to read disappeared, so I put the book back on the shelf and lit a cigar.
However, even filling the room with smoke thicker than clouds with the closed window.
Even choosing what seemed to be the highest proof alcohol Iris had brought and pouring it down my throat.
The suspicions that arose because of Giselle, far from being dispelled, only deepened with more questions.
Thoughts about Mace's death, and the string of incomprehensible words Giselle had started spouting again.
Should I have slapped her?
Instead of just helplessly watching her disappear.
...Giselle didn't seem to be lying.
If it really was something done out of jealousy over Mace, she would have chosen a much simpler method rather than something so troublesome.
She would have burned Mace to death right before my eyes.
Then was Mace's death just an unfortunate accident?
And the malice I felt was just the work of the original author trying to drive me to misfortune?
But my suspicions about Giselle aren't limited to that.
Her abandonment of me when I returned home, and the coldness she showed when I went to find her again and begged.
That attitude and the obsessive behavior Giselle showed me in my previous life and now still don't connect at all.
I emptied glass after glass in quick succession, but my head only grew stickier.
My thoughts wouldn't organize.
My chest felt so stuffy it seemed ready to burst at any moment.
Staying in the room didn't seem like it would solve the problem.
I approached the window and carefully watched the garden.
I could see servants heading one by one toward the back gate.
They seemed to be leaving work for the dormitories attached to the family estate or their own homes.
Perfect. I should take a walk like Iris said.
I put the cigar and cutter in my pocket and carefully opened the door.
I stood at the doorway for a moment and listened.
No sound came from outside the door.
If I moved through the less visible corridors, I wouldn't have to worry about being caught.
I walked slowly down the corridor where portraits of Douglas and Mother—not my late birth mother, but the Countess—hung.
The vivid paintings of those repulsive faces I always found nauseating seemed to watch my movements.
It was when I turned the corner of the corridor.
In front of another portrait of the Countess, I witnessed a ghost-like figure standing upright.
Red hair that seemed to have jumped out of the painting behind her, but dressed differently.
Not a lace-trimmed dress, but an angular jacket with epaulettes on the shoulders and pants.
Someone I knew well was wearing an outfit I knew well but didn't want to encounter.
It was too late to hide behind the corner again.
The other side had also noticed me approaching from the shadows.
I felt the gaze sent by yellow eyes like mine and Iris's cross with mine for a moment.
"...Ain?"
Poppy-red hair.
An impeccably upright posture.
Not the dull-bladed sword I used, but a sword with a golden hilt engraved with the family crest at her side.
Roxanne Magnolia.
Unlike me, the youngest of the family who, like Iris, was granted talent and bloodline.
The culprit who wouldn't go anywhere near the training grounds after I returned to school.
The damn person who didn't treat me like an older brother—let alone treat me like a human being.
In a few seconds, she'd start spewing all kinds of curses at me.
Maybe this was for the best.
No matter how much Iris tried to stop me from leaving, if a family member caught me, there was nothing to be done.
Let's take a good earful of abuse for the first time in a while and get the hell home.
However, even as I didn't stop walking and continued to approach, Roxanne's rough mouth never opened.
Even as my eyes adjusted to the shadows and revealed not just her eyes but her other features clearly.
"...What's with those clothes?"
I couldn't just ignore it.
I should have just passed by, but I stopped walking and slowly looked Roxanne over.
When I only saw the epaulettes, I wondered, but seeing her up close made it certain.
The girl who was supposed to aspire to be a knight was wearing a military uniform.
And it was the same color uniform as the one worn by the officers I'd seen on the battlefield.
Her swordsmanship and magic would have been more than enough talent to become a knight.
Did she develop some patriotism as she grew up, wanting to serve the Empire?
"Huh? Ah... it just happened...."
My ears must be off.
I should definitely be hearing curses spat in an arrogant voice.
What came back in response to my question was a voice calmer than Iris's, only without the stammering.
I must have drunk more than I thought.
Because I was seeing weak, drooping eyes on Roxanne's face.
The overbearing glare that resembled Douglas had disappeared.
Looking closely, even her once healthy complexion was strangely pale.
Dark eyes and gloominess that seemed more worn by the world than mine.
An attitude that didn't match her annoyingly dazzling hair color at all.
"Have you... been well? Um, what brings you to the manor?"
"...What?"
This bitch is asking after my well-being.
I thought today's nightmare was Giselle, but apparently it was actually the scene before my eyes right now.
I definitely thought she'd treat me like an intruder and draw her sword first.
I had no memory of ever getting along well with Roxanne in my entire life.
In fact, except for Iris, I'd never been properly treated by anyone in the family.
'A bastard who crawled out from between some nameless whore's legs'
She'd say, and even when I tried to treat her well, there was only a cold response.
Roxanne was the result of Douglas's early education bearing fruit.
I just stared at Roxanne with questioning eyes.
"Ah, yeah. Sorry... was I acting too familiar? Um."
Roxanne just scratched her head as if embarrassed.
Did she suffer some harsh hazing in the military that reformed her personality?
'Well, not my problem.'
My head was already complicated enough.
Adding more questions would just overheat it and make me reach for more alcohol and cigarettes.
I decided to set aside my curiosity about Roxanne and continue walking to the garden.
"Wait. If you're not busy, there's something I want to talk about."
Roxanne's gloved hand was gripping my elbow.
I had plenty of time, but the problem was my patience.
The dirty feeling left by Giselle's visit hadn't been resolved yet.
And the person I was facing was Roxanne, whom I loathed third most in the family after Douglas and Mother.
Unlike Iris, I didn't have even a speck of good memories with Roxanne.
Unlike with Giselle, Ain's body didn't compel me to listen to her words.
"I don't. Move."
I roughly shook off the hand that was holding me.
Roxanne stared blankly at the hand that had been knocked away.
After a moment, she followed behind me as I continued walking and persistently said:
"It'll really just take a moment. Please spare some time."
"You look like a fucking idiot in that military uniform, so I spoke to you without thinking.
I'm already in a shit mood, so don't follow me."
"I, I want to ask about Unnie.
I won't bother you anymore after that...."
-Thud
I stopped walking, grabbed Roxanne by the collar, and shoved her against the wall where the paintings hung.
Unlike the docile 'Ain,' I had no reason to hesitate using violence against Roxanne, having not an ounce of affection for her as family.
I lifted Roxanne's body, smaller than mine, by the collar to match eye level.
Her yellow pupils were trembling left and right as if flustered.
"You're already annoying enough. Stop yapping and fuck off."
"I understand you're angry. Once I'm done with my business...."
"I said I don't want to talk to you, you fucking bitch.
We're not on terms to ask after each other's well-being. Stop clinging to me."
My anger intensified at her words saying she understood I was angry.
It reminded me of the calm attitude Giselle had shown, speaking as if she knew my feelings.
As I finished speaking, Roxanne's head dropped so I couldn't see her expression.
Seeing her trembling, she must be tired of playing the good little sister and about to get angry.
"...Are you crying?"
But what fell from beneath Roxanne's lifted body were tears.
Roxanne's tears, which I'd never seen once in my entire life, flowed from her face to the floor.
She was biting down to swallow her sobs without making a sound.
After a moment, Roxanne, whose eyes were still trembling, opened her mouth.
Her voice was small, trying to hold back the sobbing.
"Sorry. I keep doing this lately...."
"Fuck, what the hell. Don't you need to see a doctor?"
She would have enlisted after the war, so it couldn't be post-war trauma.
"I'll stop soon... please wait...."
When I let go of her collar, Roxanne, who had slumped down, began frantically rubbing her eyes and mouth with her hands until the tears stopped.
Her pale face was being messily stained with tears that hadn't dried.
I didn't feel guilty, just absurd.
I tried to leave quickly before my complicated feelings got more tangled.
Roxanne's persistent hand was now gripping my pant leg.
I reflexively tried to kick it away, but stopped when I saw those tearful yellow eyes looking up at me.
"Um, I'm done crying now... sorry for startling you."
"......"
Contrary to Roxanne's words, tears were still streaming down.
The time when leaving to walk in the garden would improve my mood had long passed.
I should have just stayed holed up in my room. What rotten luck.
It seems Douglas, that bastard, ended up ruining all three of his children.
The eldest daughter was a stutterer pretending to be fine. The eldest son was disabled.
And now even the second daughter, who had the worst personality but the best public reputation, had become like this.
"...If you stop bawling, I'll talk to you. Make it as short as possible."