Chapter 89

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 89

Chapter Title: Still That Strange Guest (3)

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“Don't hate him too much. He's just lonely and overly guarded because of it.”

“Yes. I don't hate him.”

“Really?”

“......A little?”

Ethan burst into laughter at my response. He clutched his stomach and laughed heartily. I rested my chin on my hand and gazed at him coolly.

“You forgot one thing. That occasional honest side of yours is part of your charm, Paula.”

“I'll pass on that kind of charm.”

“Haha. It's okay to scold him sometimes. Discipline is necessary. The nanny pities Robert so much that she just placates him even when he's stubborn—she doesn't scold him. Someone needs to step in for that.”

“Thank you for the good advice.”

Then I'll discipline him strictly. If anyone complains, I'll say Ethan gave me permission. Nodding with that resolve in mind, Ethan laughed again.

“You've met Joelli too, right? Well, staying here, you'd have to run into her eventually.”

“Yes. But what's her relationship with Master?”

It was something I'd been wondering about all along. Robert made sense as Violet's son. And I was relieved that Vincent hadn't cut ties with her. But Joelli's identity was still a mystery.

Wait, he called Robert his nephew. So with Violet...

“You didn't know?”

“Pardon? Know what?”

“......Ah, well. You might not have realized.”

“Huh?”

I tilted my head at his cryptic words. Ethan groaned softly, then whispered low.

“This is a real secret, okay? I'm only telling you, Paula. You absolutely can't tell anyone. Got it?”

“Ah, yes.”

“She's the princess.”

“Yes, she's the princess. ......WHAT?!”

This time, I was shocked for a different reason. As I gasped again, Ethan scratched his head and asked if I really hadn't known. At this point, his surprise felt pointless.

“She and Violet have been close since childhood, playing together often. She's royalty, but she never treated people based on status. That's why they've kept their friendship all these years.”

“Th-then, does that mean the newspaper article...”

“You saw it. Yes. There was an engagement announcement with Vincent.”

“It was real?”

“Ah, no, it wasn't actually real. It was just a rumor they leaked.”

I truly hadn't known. The photo in the paper was so small I couldn't make out their features clearly. And the princess in that photo looked elegant and refined... Who could have imagined she'd be living like this in a secluded forest manor?

“Th-then how did she end up here?”

“It's a long story, but it's for her real life?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means people sometimes need a hole to breathe through.”

He only said things I couldn't grasp. I frowned, completely baffled. Finding my expression funny, Ethan burst out laughing again. But seeing he wouldn't say more, he probably didn't want to share the details.

“He called young master Robert his nephew, so what's his connection to Lady Violet?”

“They're relatives. Violet may not seem it, but she's royalty too.”

“I had no idea.”

Suddenly, Violet seemed different.

“Anything else you're curious about?”

Ethan asked once his laughter subsided. I thought it over carefully. Something else I wondered about... As I mulled over his question, one thing came to mind. Maybe it was what I'd wanted to ask first the moment I saw him.

His face looked pleased, but I hesitated before parting my lips.

“Um, Ethan.”

“Yes.”

“When I saw Vincent again, his eyes... they could see.”

I swallowed dryly without thinking. Ethan paused, then slowly nodded, as if urging me to continue.

“I was so worried, but he looked sturdy and healthy now. His eyes seemed perfectly fine too.”

“But?”

“But... the moment I saw him like that, I had a question.”

Even getting this far felt strangely breathless. My chest tightened. I licked my parched lips. As if giving me courage, Ethan waited patiently for my next words.

I moved my lips several times but couldn't spit out the question circling in my mouth. Noticing my hesitation, Ethan smiled kindly. He seemed to know exactly what I wanted to ask. No—he was giving permission.

It's okay. Go ahead and ask.

Ethan hadn't changed. He hid his own feelings tightly while piercing through others' hearts sharply. That's why being with him felt uncomfortable.

Once again, he drew out my innermost thought—the one I'd wanted to ask first upon seeing him, yet couldn't easily voice.

I finally managed one sentence.

“What happened to Lucas?”

Finally, facing news of him.

“I wondered when you'd ask.”

“......”

“Can I ask why seeing Vincent made you think of Lucas?”

“Back then, Lucas said...”

I'd thought it was just a joke. But the moment I saw Vincent again, I realized it was sincere. Maybe I'd wanted to believe I'd misheard. I'd gotten angry at his joking tone, yet felt relieved too. Relieved it was just a joke.

A kind person.

Yet a bad one.

“He said he wanted to give Vincent his world.”

Saying it aloud hit me hard. Thinking of Lucas always hurt my heart. It squeezed tight, sorrow rising to choke me. That's why I'd avoided it. I'd pretended not to know, assuming he was living well, ignoring the anxiety buried in my heart. Even knowing I couldn't erase it, I'd prioritized my own selfishness.

Lucas must be living happier than anyone.

Because he had to be.

Ethan gave me the answer now. His brown eyes, tinged with sadness, comforted me. Not wanting to see that face anymore, I buried mine in my hands. Fearing he'd tell me to look up, I bent low until my hands touched my knees.

“Paula.”

“......Yes.”

“Lucas didn't hesitate. He didn't regret it either.”

“Was there... no other way?”

“Who knows. If we'd waited, maybe there was. A way for Lucas to live and for Vincent to step out into the world. But there wasn't time. Lucas's condition worsened by the day. His frail health since childhood was part of it.”

“......”

“It was what Lucas wanted. His own choice, so I wanted to respect it.”

Ethan's voice was calm. But I knew how much pain he'd endured to say that. I knew well. Who would welcome their brother throwing away his life? Especially for a friend.

Lucas and Vincent each had their reasons. Caught between them, Ethan had chosen—and borne the weight of that choice.

How much anguish and suffering had he gone through to accept and respect Lucas's decision? Only now did I grasp the meaning of his words to me.

The count who devoured his own blood to survive. That was his truth. A terribly sad truth.

I pictured his unsmiling, hardened face. That uncharacteristic expression was Ethan's shell, what remained after bearing everything. The smile he'd shown me might have hidden even deeper sorrow than mine. I knew his habit of masking pain with levity.

Tears fell drop by drop. The sobs I'd bitten back escaped despite my efforts. This was the second time crying since coming here.

The first for Lucas.

Now for Ethan.

And for the other man who had to accept this reality.

It was all I could do.

“Paula. Will you remember him? No matter how sad, keep your memories of Lucas in your heart?”

Can I? Can I, who fled and left him behind? Can I, who shamelessly tried to forget everything after running away, remember him?

As if reading my mind, Ethan patted my shoulder. As if saying it was okay.

“Remember him. I want you to, Paula.”

“Hic, yes....... I will....... I won't forget......”

“Thank you.”

I shook my head vigorously—no need. He just patted my shoulder gently. A careful, tender touch comforting me.

I slowly lifted my head. As I lowered my hands, Ethan's eyes widened, then turned mischievous. My tear- and snot-streaked face must have been comical.

Ethan pulled out a handkerchief and offered it. Instead of taking it, I reached out and stroked his hair.

What kind of time had Ethan spent, suddenly left alone? Vincent had shut himself away when blinded, but Ethan wouldn't have. The one who judged situations most coolly would have kept running without pause. He wouldn't have looked back, fearing sorrow would bind him. Just like I hadn't.

That made my heart ache more.

“You've been through so much.”

“......”

“You held on well.”

The smile faded from Ethan's face as he listened quietly. I smiled softly, consoling him. I didn't hide my messy, tear-and-snot-covered face. I wanted to cry on behalf of Ethan, who probably hadn't wept his fill yet.

“Thank you for enduring.”

“......Don't say that.”

“Thank you for living.”

“......”

“Thank you.”

Ethan's face twisted. I hoped this would crumble the thick walls he'd built, letting out the emotions trapped inside.

Ethan covered his face with one hand. I gently stroked his hair again.

But he didn't cry. After a moment to steady his breath, Ethan reined in his feelings. The solid walls had only cracked—they hadn't fallen. I knew that was how he protected himself. No tear tracks stained his face. His eyes were just a bit red.

Ethan grasped my wrist as it stroked his hair and lowered it.

“Paula hasn't changed.”

“Except for the bangs.”

“Those did surprise me quite a bit.”

“But how did you recognize my face so quickly?”

“Did you think the bangs would stop me?”

“Honestly, yes.”

“I told you—I'd seen your face.”

Had he? As I couldn't recall, Ethan pouted. I burst out laughing. He retracted his pout and chuckled too.

Masking sorrow with laughter. Unable to linger in grief, he brushes it off lightly. It won't erase the sadness, but by burying it deep, it can fade over time—so that when unearthed again, the pain is lighter.

Still, I was glad to meet him and share this sorrow.

“Last time, I hoped we'd never meet again.”

He said, recalling the day I left the manor. I felt the same. Our beginning was poor, and so was our end. I hadn't expected to see him again. If at all, maybe spotting him from afar alone, or brushing past on the street by chance.

But here we were, reunited.

“Meeting again really is nice.”

He smiled warmly. I beamed back in full agreement.