TNYLM Ch 39

Kieran’s gaze wavered.

But it wasn’t the kind of massive upheaval it once had been—no raging storm this time.

“If you truly thought of me as your brother… you wouldn’t have treated me the way you did.”

He remembered, as a child, one occasion when Claudius had taken him along to a family dinner—one that Kieran alone hadn’t been invited to.

When Kieran couldn’t answer why he wasn’t allowed to attend, Claudius had grabbed his hand without hesitation and dragged him toward the dining hall.

But when the attendants blocked Kieran at the entrance, Claudius let go of his hand without a second thought.
Then, with a casual wave, he disappeared inside alone.

That day, Kieran held his empty, hungry stomach and listened to the sound of laughter spilling from the gap beneath the door.

He’d held onto a sliver of hope that maybe Claudius would speak up to their parents on his behalf—but the door never opened.

What had once been a deep wound was eventually buried under countless others as time went on.

And at the top of that painful pile lay the final memory before he left the count’s estate.

When it was decided that Kieran would be sent off to the harsh northern lands in a forced marriage, Claudius had done nothing.

He didn’t try to persuade their father. He didn’t comfort Kieran. He didn’t get angry or sad.

Claudius had simply been busy with his own affairs.

Whatever those affairs were, they certainly weren’t more important than his brother’s forced exile—but apparently, Claudius had thought otherwise.

He brushed off the news like it was nothing.

And from that day on, he didn’t send a single letter.

That was the day Kieran died.

“…Are you saying I looked down on you?”

Everything—so many countless moments, most of which even Kieran could no longer recall clearly—was reduced to that one sentence.

It was almost laughable.

“I never did that! You know I protected you from the rest of the family more than anyone!”

Claudius raised his voice in frustration, his tone full of wounded protest.

Kieran simply nodded.

“Yes. That’s right. You used to say it all the time—that it wasn’t my fault I was born the way I was, so I shouldn’t hate myself or feel ashamed…”

Claudius’s words, always said with such conviction, had made him seem like a hero.

“You were right.”

But Claudius was no hero.

No knight.

No savior.

“…I just realized it too late.”

Kieran could finally admit that now.

The old emotions swelled within him, but they didn’t tear him apart.

Instead, they swept through gently, as if cleansing him.

“For a long time, I hated myself. I couldn’t understand why I despised you—the one person who treated me kindly.
So I thought I must be the one who was wrong.”

At one time, he had believed that to be true.

Even the broken pieces had felt precious, so he held onto them even though they cut him.

But now, there was someone who had given Kieran their whole heart.

“But not anymore.”

Just one person—but that one person was enough.

When he closed his eyes, her image rose vividly in his mind.

And when he opened them again, his gaze was calm.

“As you said, Her Grace is compassionate,” he said, “but I am not.”

It felt like something had been hollowed out inside him—yet at the same time, there was a strange sense of relief.
And even, perhaps, a hint of satisfaction.

This was one of the reasons why he had to come here instead of Alyssa.

“I am also a master of this estate. So I, too, have the right to choose who I receive as a guest.”

If any consequences came from this choice, then he would take full responsibility. That was only right.

Looking down at Claudius’s still-stunned face, Kieran thought of the wife who remained unaware of any of this.
She might never find out. But if she did—what then?

“I will not allow you.”

Would she worry? Or would she be angry?

Either way, it didn’t matter.

“So go back, Claudius.”

And with those final words, Kieran rose to his feet.

“Wait, Kieran—!”

A voice called from behind him, but he didn’t respond. He left the room without looking back.

---

The next morning, Alyssa woke at her usual hour.

Sitting up in bed, she turned her head and quietly looked over at Kieran, still sleeping beside her.

He was resting peacefully, his face calm. His long silver hair had spilled over his shoulder, dyed faintly by the blue of the early dawn light.

She thought to herself that it was a relief—but still, she couldn’t take her eyes off his face.

Last night, when Kieran had gone to meet Claudius, she had prepared herself to wait all night.

But to her surprise, he had returned not long after.

Startled, she had rushed to check his expression—but he looked almost unchanged.

When she hadn’t been able to ask anything, Kieran had simply smiled at her in silence.

Did it go well?

As she lay down beside him, Alyssa had wished—for the first time—for herself to have a nightmare. If it meant that Kieran could sleep soundly and dreamlessly, then she didn’t mind being the one to suffer through restless dreams.

Whether or not it was because of that, Kieran hadn’t so much as furrowed his brow in his sleep.

A faint smile curved on Alyssa’s lips.

It felt, if only briefly, like things that had gone askew were finally returning to their rightful places.

After that, the day unfolded just like any other—except for one small difference: a visit from the butler, Aaron.

Aaron handled most matters alongside the head maid and Kieran himself, so this was the first time since his employment that he had come looking for Alyssa.

Alyssa was puzzled by the butler’s unexpected visit, and Aaron spoke with a troubled expression.

“His Lordship staying at the castle asked that we fulfill most of his requests… but I thought this one required your permission, so I came to ask.”

Alyssa’s face hardened instantly. There was only one guest currently staying in Benoit.

“He spends far too much time wandering around the castle,” the elderly butler continued. “It’s as if he’s exploring the place.”

He asked whether some kind of intervention might be necessary. Alyssa fell into thought.

He must be looking for the scholars.

Was it the expulsion order that made him so desperate? Alyssa sighed softly and shook her head.

“It’s fine. Let him be. There’s no need to stop him. Just make sure the staff keeps quiet.”

They had already given instructions to the scholars staying in the castle about what to say—or rather, what not to.

Besides, very few people even knew where the scholars’ tower was, and even if someone did manage to find it, getting inside was nearly impossible.

There was nothing for Claudius to gain, especially after receiving a formal order to leave from the master of the estate.

He couldn’t stay much longer.

Alyssa figured that, soon, the Count of Albrecht’s carriage would appear outside her window.

But the next day came and went—and the next—and several more after that, yet the carriage never appeared.

Kieran didn’t seem particularly concerned, but Alyssa grew increasingly uneasy for reasons she couldn’t quite place.

She set a mental deadline of one week. If Claudius still hadn’t left by then, she would go to him herself.

She wasn’t sure what to do if he refused to meet her—but in the end, that concern turned out to be unnecessary.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

Because on the seventh day, Claudius opened the dining hall doors and walked in.