Additional Side Story 3: A Certain Season ( 3)

Children grew quickly.

Rozia, who once seemed like she would remain a little girl forever, had turned eighteen, and Usher, who had always seemed like a baby, was now thirteen.

“Hey, little one. Here again?”

Rozia’s parents, Owen and Lucia, were close friends with Usher’s parents, Kyle and Bella, so the two children ended up meeting frequently.

Though they had played together since they were young, Rozia often treated Usher like a child. It wasn’t without reason—Usher was five years younger than Rozia.

To an eighteen-year-old, a thirteen-year-old was bound to seem like a child.

“I’m not a little one!” Usher protested, his blue eyes glaring with indignation.

“Little ones always get mad when you call them that,” Rozia teased, smirking as she reached out to ruffle his silver hair.

Usher’s neatly combed locks were easily tousled under her hand.

“Poor thing. Was that upsetting?” she said playfully.

“….”

Usher clenched his lips, looking up at Rozia with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. He hated being treated like a child, especially by Rozia.

It wasn’t because he didn’t know he was younger or that thirteen was considered young. What truly bothered him was the thought of Rozia growing up and drifting away to places he couldn’t follow.

In two years, Rozia would be an adult. She was already recognized as the official heir to the Verdun dukedom, often referred to as the ‘Young Duchess’. Upon reaching adulthood, she would gain even more responsibilities and qualifications.

In comparison, Usher felt small, young, and lacking in talent.

Rozia, who had trained with a wooden sword since she was five, had followed in Owen’s footsteps to become a Swordmaster.

Meanwhile, Usher had only recently started learning magic. Though he had inherited a significant amount of magical power, thanks to his lineage, his skills were still raw and unrefined.

‘I want to be just as amazing,’ he thought. Rozia was extraordinary, admirable.

He wanted to stay close to her.

But Rozia, with her grace, strength, and high status, naturally attracted many others. Unlike her father, Owen, who kept to himself, Rozia was much like Lucia, adept at managing connections and mingling with the nobility.

She frequented social events, cultivated relationships, and skillfully navigated her way through people. Usher, on the other hand, struggled with shyness. Large gatherings overwhelmed him, and the weight of everyone’s attention suffocated him.

“…I wish I could be as amazing as you,” Usher muttered dejectedly, his voice tinged with melancholy.

Rozia blinked at his sudden confession, her sharp red eyes shifting as if in thought.

Usher often seemed intimidated by her. He believed he had little to offer and doubted there was anything worth being proud of.

‘Sure, I’m great, but that doesn’t mean Usher isn’t,’ Rozia thought.

Rozia was someone brimming with self-confidence. She never doubted her own worth or capabilities. Being acknowledged as a leader, mastering swordsmanship, and excelling in social circles were no small feats, and she wasn’t shy about recognizing her accomplishments.

But that didn’t make Usher any less remarkable. For a thirteen-year-old, Usher was exceptional.

Many children his age hadn’t even realized their magical potential, let alone started formal training. Yet Usher had already mastered third-class magic and was now diligently working on fourth-class spells.

“Usher, you’re an amazing little one. I don’t think there’s anyone your age as impressive as you.”

“Really…?”

His large blue eyes welled up, betraying his age. Rozia chuckled softly and pulled him into a warm hug, gently patting his head.

“Yes, really. You’re still young, but you’re going to grow into someone incredible. I guarantee it.”

“…Okay.”

The reassurance seemed to lift his spirits, and Usher nodded slightly, as if imagining the future version of himself.

* * *

“Lady Rozia.”

A familiar, pleasant voice called out.

Rozia’s gaze shifted toward the source of the voice.

Standing before her was Usher Taylor, now grown into a man. His long silver hair was tied neatly behind him, and his deep blue eyes shone with confidence.

At twenty, Usher was no longer the little boy she once teased. He stood tall, with a broad build and a presence that made him impossible to miss in a crowd.

The once-scrawny child had matured, his shoulders wide and his frame hinting at well-toned muscles beneath his attire. His magical abilities, now comparable to those of his father, the former Tower Lord Kyle, solidified his status as one of the most powerful mages of his generation.

“Were you busy? Should I come back later?” he asked politely, his voice calm and composed.

“No, it’s fine. I’m almost done. Come, sit,” Rozia replied, gesturing toward the sofa.

At twenty-five, Rozia had officially taken over the title of Duchess of Verdun. Owen had decided that she was more than capable of managing the dukedom, leaving her with the full responsibilities of their family’s estate.

With his duties passed on, Owen had embarked on a long journey with Lucia. They kept in touch through frequent letters but only returned to the capital for major imperial events, such as the Founding Festival.

“Aren’t you busy these days? I heard your father and the other mages decided to hand you the Tower Lord position.”

Usher nodded with a faint smile. “Yes… Father always said it was a lot of work, but I didn’t realize how much until I took over.”

“I understand. I thought managing the dukedom as the Young Duchess was hard enough, but it turns out my father was a monster.”

Rozia shook her head with a wry smile. It was hard to fathom how their parents had balanced their overwhelming responsibilities with courtship, marriage, and raising families.

She sighed, rising from her desk to join Usher on the sofa. Calling for tea, she leaned back and let out another sigh.

“Usher, I’ve been thinking about it. At this rate, I’ll be too busy to date or even get married.”

“…Marriage?”

Usher’s voice wavered, his lips pressing together as he gripped the teacup before him.

“Are you… planning to marry soon? Do you know who it will be?”

Rozia waved her hand dismissively. “Not anytime soon. But eventually, I’ll have to. As the Duchess, I need an heir. It’ll probably be someone from one of the major noble families… or maybe even one of the princes.”

Her casual mention of the imperial princes made Usher’s expression fall.

“…The princes,” he murmured, his voice low.

Noticing his reaction, Rozia tilted her head curiously.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like the princes? They don’t seem to have any character flaws.”

Thanks to the current emperor’s virtuous nature, his sons had been raised with a strong sense of morality and decency. On top of that, they inherited the emperor and empress’s striking appearances.

Rozia’s confusion only deepened as Usher remained silent, his gaze dropping to his teacup.

Having grown up watching her parents and the couple Kyle and Bella, Rozia’s standards for a partner were undoubtedly high. Even so, she considered the imperial princes to be fairly good candidates from a political perspective.

“…They’re fine,” Usher admitted. “I know they’re decent people.”

He was well aware that the current imperial family and the major noble houses were filled with virtuous and capable individuals, creating a relatively peaceful and harmonious society.

If Rozia married one of the imperial princes or another noble heir, she would undoubtedly lead a fulfilling life. Rozia wasn’t the type to let herself be overshadowed or overpowered by anyone.

But even knowing this, the thought of merely watching it all unfold made Usher’s chest tighten.

“It’s just… me,” he began, struggling to continue.

The truth was, ‘Usher Taylor loved Rozia Verdun.’

She might not have known, but Usher had loved her for a long time.

What began as admiration during his childhood had grown into something undeniable as time passed. Slowly but surely, Usher realized that every action he took and every goal he chased stemmed from a desire to stay by Rozia’s side.

“…Is it because of me?” he muttered.

“What? What are you talking about?” Rozia frowned, her confusion evident.

Usher hesitated. This wasn’t how he had planned to confess.

But if he didn’t speak now, Rozia might never understand how he truly felt. She had an odd tendency to miss things when it came to matters like this.

It was strange—how she could quickly sense when others were interested in her, yet remained completely oblivious to his feelings.

“It’s because I love you,” he said, his voice steady despite the weight of his words.

There was no other way. When it came to love, the one who desired more had no choice but to speak first.

“…That’s why. It makes me selfish. I want to be the one by your side.”

Rozia’s dark eyes widened at the unexpected confession. She stared at him, stunned, before lowering her gaze.

“…You’re joking, right?” she said, her voice quiet.

“I’m not joking. I mean it.”

“…I see.”

Rozia’s index finger tapped lightly against the handle of her teacup. After a few moments of silence, she set the cup down and looked at him.

Her pitch-black eyes held an overwhelming depth, swirling with emotions Usher couldn’t immediately name.

“This is troublesome,” she said softly. “I thought I could let you go, since I’ve always seen you as the little boy I grew up with….”

“…Rozia?”

Usher flinched, sensing something shifting in her tone. He could almost identify the emotions in her gaze, yet they felt unreal, leaving him speechless.

‘Possessiveness, obsession, and….’

“…You know me, Usher. You’ve known me since we were young. I’ve always been five years older than you, and I’ve always been… greedy.”

‘Love.’

Ah.

It was love.

Dark, crimson, and overwhelming—an all-consuming love filled with possessiveness and obsession.

“You’re brave, walking straight into this. Now, you can’t escape. Are you really okay with that?”

Thump. Thump.

Usher’s heart pounded loudly in his chest, his blue eyes glimmering with emotion.

“Yes,” he replied.

He wondered when Rozia had started loving him. She had always been skilled at hiding her emotions, and he had arrogantly assumed she hadn’t noticed his own feelings.

But none of that mattered anymore.

Because knowing that she wouldn’t let him go filled him with a sense of peace so profound, he was certain he could be happy for the rest of his life.

-End

Tl/N: Thank you for reading and supporting and reading this story.

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