꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦THERE IS NO WAY YOU LOVE ME꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦
Like everyone else, the ones most reluctant to make contact with Alyssa were, without a doubt, the nobles.
Having lived their entire lives wrapped in luxury and silk, they found her scar-covered body unfamiliar—repulsive, even.
A flicker of shock crossed Claudius’s face, though he struggled to maintain his smile. Without hesitation, Alyssa withdrew her hand.
“You’re quite firm in your stance. Then, I shall save this greeting for another time.”
Only then did Claudius’s expression ease. He lowered his hand, smiling as if disappointed.
A brief silence followed. Alyssa remained unaffected, but Claudius, seemingly unable to bear it, frowned slightly.
“Come to think of it, Kieran was rather rude to Your Grace earlier.”
Claudius had smoothly shifted the topic, his expression once again polished into a perfect smile.
Rude?
Alyssa frowned at the unfamiliar remark, but Claudius interpreted her silence differently.
“I apologize on his behalf. Please don’t be too upset. Kieran has had these moments since childhood.”
With a small sigh, Claudius shook his head as if exasperated.
“As a member of the same family, my brother’s faults are my own. If you must blame someone, please blame me instead.”
His blue eyes were nothing but gentle as he spoke.
Alyssa, watching him closely, suddenly asked,
“Do you care for your brother, Young Lord?”
“Oh, of course!”
The answer came without a moment’s hesitation. There was no trace of falsehood in his voice.
“And the others in your family—did they feel the same way?”
Perhaps the question was difficult to answer, as Claudius hesitated.
Claudius gave an awkward smile, as if the question was difficult to answer. After a brief moment of contemplation, he shook his head.
“No, they did not.”
His tone suggested he was admitting to an uncomfortable truth, but there was no trace of reproach in his voice.
“I can’t say I don’t understand. An illegitimate child is, in itself, little more than a fracture in a family.”
A faint melancholy crossed his face as he recalled his mother—his memories of her were filled only with tears.
“But even so, I never disliked Kieran.”
The moment was brief. Soon, he returned to his usual composed expression.
“It wasn’t his choice to be born with common blood or to become a stain on a noble household.”
“……”
“I just… pitied him.”
A bright, untroubled smile. A face so radiant it seemed untouched by the darkness of life.
Claudius spoke his final words with a lighthearted ease, then scratched his head and laughed like a carefree boy.
“Does that make me strange? My family and friends all say so. They tell me I’m not very noble-like.”
There was no arrogance or entitlement in his voice—just the carefree warmth of a boy raised in open fields rather than grand halls.
Alyssa had once thought the same—that Claudius was unlike other nobles.
“No,” she said.
But now, she understood perfectly.
“You are more of a noble than anyone else.”
Claudius beamed, as if he had been waiting to hear those very words. He opened his mouth to express his gratitude, but Alyssa didn’t give him the chance.
“Why do you pity him?” she asked.
Claudius’s smile stiffened.
Caught off guard by the unexpected question, he answered, a little awkwardly,
“Well, isn’t it obvious? Because he’s an illegitimate child.”
Alyssa stared at him in silence. That wasn’t an answer.
“And?”
“……”
“Why is that a problem?”
Even if Kieran had common blood, he was not common.
He was neither vile nor wretched like the bastards and outsiders people whispered about. He was not someone to be despised.
“Pity is something one feels for someone who lacks something essential. But my husband lacks nothing.”
To her, he was the most precious and beautiful person in the world.
Alyssa admired and revered Kieran, and in many moments, she was grateful for him.
“But why should I pity him?”
Not once had she ever done so.
It was a simple question, born of genuine curiosity. Alyssa waited for Claudius to answer, but none came.
His expression twisted in an odd way, the smile he had forced himself to maintain faltering until it was barely a smile at all.
“…That’s…”
“……”
“That’s because…”
Claudius’s lips moved, but Alyssa did not hear his words.
Something behind her had shifted.
Someone who had been holding their breath turned away.
Footsteps, as soft as a knock on a door, fell in rhythm with a quiet breath.
Alyssa forgot the man standing in front of her and turned toward the sound.
The faint noise grew more distant. Like rain fading into the horizon.
Without hesitation, she took a step forward.
It felt as if the world around her had blurred, yet the path pulling her forward was vivid.
Her legs, moving on their own, gradually slowed to a stop.
And at last, she saw a familiar figure.
In a world where nothing else could be heard, he turned his head as if he had heard her call.
Kieran hated Claudius.
More than the father who ignored him, more than Jerome, who openly despised him.
Because no scorn, no contempt, had ever made him feel his place more keenly than Claudius’ kindness.
Claudius was kind to Kieran because they were not equals.
He had grown up surrounded by acceptance and love. A life so complete that he never needed to hate or tear anyone down.
Kieran had never had the luxury of pitying himself, yet Claudius had kindness to spare for the poor, wretched bastard.
Just as he had been taught, Claudius sat in his high seat and bestowed mercy upon those beneath him.
Every time Kieran met those pitiful eyes looking down at him, humiliation wrapped around his throat. He felt like a beggar receiving charity from the wealthy.
Even if one genuinely felt sorry for a vagrant on the street, they would never invite him to sit at their table. Claudius’ kindness was the same.
He saw Kieran as lowly, truly pitied him, and was genuinely kind.
And horrifyingly, that charity-like kindness was something Kieran desperately needed.
He couldn’t refuse it. He didn’t even have the right to refuse it. And every time he accepted it, his insides twisted violently.
Yet, Claudius was the closest thing to hope in Kieran’s life.
While everyone else despised him, Claudius alone had shown him kindness.
But he could never bring himself to be grateful.
Even after being trampled over time and again, his wretched pride refused to bow.
The fact that Claudius could so effortlessly look down on him was miserable.
That he had to lower himself just to be allowed to exist—he had never felt it so keenly.
He could not accept it. So he lied to himself, saying it didn’t matter.
And for a long time, he lived that way, forgetting.
Unexpectedly, it was Alyssa who forced him to remember.
The first time he had ever received a gaze of admiration, the first thought that struck him was that he did not deserve it.
But his conscience dulled quickly.
Day by day, he found that he liked it.
Standing before Alyssa, he almost felt like an ordinary person.
He hoped she would stay deceived for a long time.
He wanted to appear as decent as possible.
He didn’t want her to see his flaws.
😭😭 I’m glad he heard her. Then maybe he’ll start seeing himself how she sees him.
Thanks for the tl! ✨