꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦THERE IS NO WAY YOU LOVE ME꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦
Claudius still wore a bright smile as he continued speaking with a cheerful tone.
“I’m only planning to stay for about a week or two, so it won’t be for too long.”
His gentle voice and softly curved eyes were impeccably warm, yet an odd sense of discord lingered.
Despite being the one making the request, Claudius showed no hesitation or humility. It wasn’t as if he was seeking permission—rather, he carried himself as though he were bestowing a favor.
While Alyssa frowned in confusion, Kieran merely gazed at his half-brother with a calm, unreadable expression.
When no immediate response came, Claudius, who had been smoothly maintaining his smile, narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Kieran, I don’t think this is a difficult request.”
His once-gentle voice took on a firmer edge. His tone remained elegant, yet there was a subtle note of reproach.
Kieran shook his head.
“No, Claudius. That won’t be possible.”
The smile faded from Claudius’s face, replaced by a quiet sigh.
“So, you’re saying you’ll have a new guest room prepared in that time?”
“You know as well as I do that it’s impossible. So you’ll have to be the one to understand.”
Kieran’s firm response made Claudius furrow his brows slightly, but before he could say anything, Kieran continued.
“My bedroom is also Her Grace’s. As the lady and owner of this castle, she cannot be expected to give up her chamber for your convenience.”
Claudius’s eyes widened instantly. The cold, commanding demeanor he had shown just moments ago vanished in an instant, replaced by the look of a well-meaning young man.
“Oh, I see! That makes perfect sense. Then, of course, I should be the one to yield. Thank you for explaining it to me.”
Beaming, he patted Kieran’s shoulder before turning to Alyssa. With a slight droop of his eyebrows, he dipped his head in apology.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. Please forgive my rudeness.”
Despite Claudius’s polite apology, Alyssa couldn’t shake the strange sense of unease.
“There’s no need for you to apologize to me, young master.”
She had no idea why Claudius was asking for her forgiveness. If he truly needed to bow his head, shouldn’t it be toward someone else rather than her?
But at her words, Claudius simply lifted his head and beamed. While Alyssa remained confused, he looked as if he had already resolved everything on his own.
“Thank you! You’re much kinder than the rumors suggest. Honestly, I was quite surprised.”
With an easy smile, Claudius glanced between Kieran and Alyssa as if making light conversation.
“I had heard that you were a rather cold-hearted person. And more than anything, that you didn’t particularly like Kieran—so I was quite worried.”
Alyssa’s eyes widened in shock. She didn’t like Kieran?
“That has never been the case.”
“Of course! Now I know that was nothing but a baseless rumor. After all, you share a bedroom.”
Claudius’s cheerful voice remained steady, but his gaze subtly shifted.
“Truly, I never expected you two to be such a harmonious couple…”
It was as if he were marveling at an unusual artifact. He was still smiling, but there was no sense of equal footing between them.
“I thought life here would be better than at the count’s estate, but still, I couldn’t help but worry.”
His bright smile remained unwavering, filled with genuine sincerity—yet it carried no warmth, only a weightless lightness.
“I’m glad you’re doing well, Kieran.”
At that moment, a cold hand grasped Alyssa’s tightly. Startled, she looked up to see who it belonged to.
Kieran was staring at Claudius, his face as pale as if he were being strangled.
Every word drifting through the air seemed to weigh him down, each one a heavy burden pressing onto his shoulders.
“…Enough.”
He could no longer even pretend to wear a composed expression.
“Kieran?”
Both Alyssa and Claudius immediately recognized his distress. Claudius, looking slightly taken aback, let out a sigh.
“Is it because I mentioned the Count’s house? But it was just one comment.”
Shaking his head as if troubled, Claudius looked at Kieran with mild reproach.
“I know you don’t like talking about it, but isn’t it time to move on? Father and Jerome—surely they didn’t mean it. And more than anything, right now, you’re with me.”
A muscle in Kieran’s jaw tensed. He clenched his teeth, as if trying to keep his emotions under control.
He opened his mouth, seemingly about to say something, but Claudius spoke first.
“I’m not trying to boast about how I helped you since we were kids, but don’t I at least have the right to say this?”
“…You think you have the right?”
Alyssa looked up at him in shock. Kieran, still gritting his teeth, was glaring at Claudius.
His green eyes burned with a wild, untamed fury. The emotions he had been suppressing spilled over uncontrollably—rage, humiliation, and anguish.
His gaze was like shattered glass, sharp and volatile.
And yet—
“…Don’t cry.”
—he looked unbearably sad.
Alyssa reached out and gently wiped the dry corners of his eyes. Bloodshot and strained, they instantly flickered toward her.
His pupils widened in shock.
She recognized that look immediately—she had seen it too many times before.
The trembling green eyes were filled with raw vulnerability—the shame of someone whose most private wounds had been exposed.
“Kieran?”
At the sound of Claudius’s voice, Kieran barely regained his composure. Quickly averting his gaze from Alyssa, he spoke, his voice cold.
“Don’t say anything about me, no matter what.”
That was the most restraint Kieran could muster. Without waiting for Claudius’s response, he turned and left the drawing room.
He was still holding Alyssa’s hand. Though she could have pulled away, she didn’t. Kieran was gripping her hand as if it were a lifeline.
He walked quickly, almost as if he were fleeing. Then, after putting a considerable distance between himself and the drawing room, he slowed to a halt.
“…Ah.”
Only then, after catching his breath, did he finally release her hand.
His pale face was frozen in shock as he looked down at her.
His gaze shifted between Alyssa’s face and her wrist, now marked red from his grip. Pressing a hand over his face, he let out a shaky breath.
“…I’m sorry. I…”
It was as if something was lodged in his throat. He opened his mouth slightly, but no more words followed. He shut it tight instead.
Alyssa watched him, her eyes filled with pain.
She didn’t want to ask him anything. She didn’t want him to explain.
The sight of Kieran, completely unraveled, made her heart ache. She wanted to do something—anything—but she knew there was nothing she could do.
“It’s okay,” she said softly, and then she turned away.
The sky was dimming with the setting sun.
Alyssa leaned against one of the columns in the corridor and gazed at the empty training grounds.
Claudius’s words echoed in her mind, scattered and restless.
She didn’t know what kind of life Kieran had endured at the Count’s estate. She couldn’t begin to grasp the weight of those words on him.
But one thing was certain—
Claudius had hurt Kieran.
Alyssa’s gaze deepened, sinking into quiet contemplation. The mere fact of it was unsettling—and incomprehensible.
Claudius harbored not even a trace of malice. His emotions, however light they might be, were still warm and gentle.
The idea that warmth could be used to wound someone was unfamiliar to Alyssa.
‘He isn’t like the other nobles…’
Even if the smiles were the same, they were fundamentally different. The nobles of the capital wore smiles like sharpened blades. But Claudius’s was simply bright, untouched by anything sinister.
He resembled Kieran—not entirely, but enough to tell they were kin. Unlike the other nobles, Claudius was a kind person.
Then why…?
At that moment, Alyssa abruptly turned. She had sensed someone approaching.
“Oh dear, did I interrupt something?”
Standing there with an awkward smile was none other than Claudius.
“No, you didn’t,” Alyssa replied, shaking her head as she rose to her feet.
“It’s a nice coincidence to run into you. I’ve been meaning to properly introduce myself,” Claudius said, his eyes crinkling with a friendly smile.
Placing a hand over his chest, he bowed his head politely before extending a hand toward her.
Alyssa looked at him, discomfort flickering in her gaze.
He was offering a knight’s courtesy to a lady.
The gesture itself was unfamiliar enough, but what truly unsettled her was the thought of placing her hand atop his pale, smooth one.
He’s going to find it unpleasant.
Hesitant, she didn’t immediately take his hand. For a brief moment, a shadow of displeasure crossed Claudius’s face.
Swallowing a sigh, Alyssa finally reached out.
She moved slowly, stretching her hand toward his.
Her scarred, weathered fingers—faded in color in places—paused just before touching his pristine palm, hovering in the air.
As if startled by the mere possibility of contact, Claudius flinched.
Alyssa simply stared down at her own hand, expression unreadable. At some point, the hand she had so elegantly extended had curled into a tight fist.
Unlike Claudius, who looked flustered, Alyssa remained completely composed.
“There’s no need to force yourself,” she said flatly.
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