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“They’re claiming that if my brother takes the throne, a great bloodbath will sweep through Ohala. It’s almost at the level of a cult-like belief, ridiculously enough.”
“Then… do you also believe, as they do, that Vasily will bring a bloodbath to this country?”
For a moment, Ivan’s gaze sharpened.
“That is an unpleasant question. Did you think I would agree with it?”
“Yes. At the very least, I don’t think it’s a wrong claim.”
“…….”
“You feel the same way. I remember everything, Ivan. The day Vasily killed someone… I remember exactly how you looked at him. The sight of Vasily swinging his sword so nonchalantly… I probably won’t be able to forget it for the rest of my life.”
A faint wariness flickered in those low-sunken violet eyes.
“What a remarkable memory. If only I could open your head, I would personally pull out your brain and erase only those memories.”
The mocking tone felt so foreign that it sent a shiver down my spine, but I forced myself to look steady, putting strength into my eyes.
“Right? Surprising, isn't it? But the surprises don't end there. My eyesight is just as keen as my memory. Thanks to that, on the day the Nikitin family held their ball, I spotted you wandering the night streets with suspicious individuals. In the very place where the shootout occurred.”
“…….”
“That day wasn't the only time. I found you wandering the alleys of Makhachkala quite often. It wasn't just a day or two that you were flirting with lowly men near the holy hall, was it?”
“Do not call them lowly, Larisa,” Ivan said, his tone sounding as if he were suppressing his anger.
“When I was young, you often left me at Emma’s house to go play croquet with those low-borns. Though I wonder if you were really just playing croquet.”
“I believe I told you to watch your mouth. Do you think I’ll indulge you the way Tanya does?”
At the enemy's complacent gaze and warning, anger suddenly surged from the back of my throat.
‘To look at me like that over something like this!’
I had fought countless verbal battles with Ivan since childhood. It meant there were countless days when he shouted in front of me.
But not with those eyes. No, absolutely not those eyes. Whenever I spoke rashly, the emotion that surfaced in Ivan’s eyes was pity or regret. However…
‘Why is he looking at me with eyes so full of resentment and rage?’
Consequently, I too became filled with resentment and rage.
“Why do you keep calling them that? It’s an obvious fact that they are lowly.”
As I sneered fully, Ivan took a long breath—deep enough to make his chest heave—and slowly closed and opened his eyes. Eventually, having become noticeably calm, he spoke to me.
“So, what exactly is it you want to say to me right now, Larisa? Stop acting out of character. Stop beating around the bush and speak clearly.”
What is ‘out of character’ for me? I swallowed the retort that wanted to burst out…
“What is out of character for me?”
I couldn't swallow it.
“What else. Didn't you hear what I just said? I told you to say what you have to say. Just as you always have, however you want, regardless of how it sounds to others.”
“Are you mocking me now, saying that being ‘me’ means acting willfully in front of others?”
“When did I ever mock—”
“Hey! Do you think I’m the only honest one among our siblings? No! Tatyana speaks her mind far more without hesitation than I do, and Vasily is far more calculating than I am. You always look at me with those bewildered eyes too, don't you?”
Once the floodgates opened, the words poured out relentlessly. Ivan looked around, slightly flustered by the stream of grievances that burst forth as if they had been waiting, but I didn't care. Rather, it felt as though the dam of negative emotions I had endured for so long had completely broken and exploded.
“You were always like that, Ivan. Not just with me, but you were always unpleasant when talking to Tanya. Whenever we sat at one table, you spent your time pointing out the vocabulary we used, our tone, everything.”
A man came to mind.
[Hold me.]
That man who had a face resembling Ivan's.
Looking at him now, the adult Ivan had an impression that looked exactly like that man, except for the eye color. To an uncomfortable degree.
“I remember the moments you always found us repulsive. Like an unwelcome guest who stepped into a place they shouldn't have, you wandered outside and neglected us, your own family. Almost like…”
[Hold me, Uncle. They told me I must be held by family when crossing this waterway. Servants or other people are absolutely not allowed.]
[In that case, I cannot.]
[Huh? Why?]
[Because I, Anto, am not your family.]
…Almost like.
[Not family? Uncle Anto is Father's younger brother. He became Duke Libertan because he's the younger brother, so he is my family; I learned that from Mother.]
[No, Your Highness. You were taught incorrectly. I am neither your family nor Duke Libertan. It is a pity that I cannot cross while holding Your Highness.]
[But Ivan held me here yesterday!]
[…My, you must have been dreaming. I have never even held Prince Ivan.]
[It wasn't a dream! …Wait, are you trying to play the ghost game now? Right? You're pretending you're a ghost, not Anto! Honestly, how childish. I passed the age of being fooled by such pranks long ago—]
Almost like.
“Like my uncle.”
To you, we are not family.
Right, Ivan?
The other person's breath stopped.
The strength that had been supporting my hand and waist slid away, as if it had never existed from the start.
In that moment, Ivan seemed like a different person.
If Ivan had been holding a sword—no, even if he had been holding something as simple as a fork—my heart would have been pierced. This chilling fear was not a bit different from the sense of crisis on the day we were attacked in the carriage.
My instinct whispered.
“……Larisa.”
Run away from that man.
“How could you… ugh!”
Ivan reached out to me, and I stepped on the bridge of his foot as if stamping it out the moment I snapped back to my senses; these two things happened almost simultaneously.
Ignoring the surrounding gazes that flickered with blatant curiosity, I continued walking straight ahead.
We were the only man and woman to part ways before the piece of music had even ended. Moreover, the end of this path did not lead to the spot beside Tanya. The nobles, flushed with a light intoxication, stole glances at me and whispered among themselves.
‘What do I do now?’
In that brief moment when Ivan stopped. I felt as though I had heard his answer just from that fleeting expression.
‘Should I tell Vasily?’
Tell him what?
That Ivan had joined hands with Duke Libertan?
Or that Ivan doesn't seem to be our biological brother?
‘…No, he would never believe it. Even I find it hard to believe, so who could I possibly convince?’
What evidence could I possibly provide for the claim that Ivan had joined hands with Duke Libertan? To bring up something like a change in expression as evidence is something only a fool would do.
Then what on earth should I do? I am anxious. I am so anxious that my breath is painfully short and my head is spinning.
“Lara? Are you alright?”
Sergei.
“Your Highness, are you okay? It’s me, Emma. My goodness, your complexion…”
Emma.
“I think you need to rest for a moment, Your Highness. I will support you, so please lean on me.”
“Who are you supporting with so many eyes around? Take my hand, Lara. Let’s go to where Brother Ivan is for now.”
Igor, and then Sergei again.
I examined the faces of those who had rushed to my side one by one, but my breathing showed no sign of improving. As I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them, black flames flickered outside my field of vision.
‘Ah, I’m suffocating because of this smoke.’
The only thought in my head was that I had to escape quickly, and because of the dizziness, my two legs only staggered.
Lara, Your Highness, Princess Larisa… beyond the endless calls, I spotted him. Valentin.
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