When the vision of the Crown Princess and her husband, who were not even in their full form when they died, strangling him with their half-drowned brains and bloody flesh, unfolds like a hallucination...
He couldn't even raise his head. He couldn't dare say such things while looking at a face that resembled Anastasia's.
But the hand that was lightly holding him and stroking his back was just...
"It's okay."
The churning in his head suddenly stopped. The only thing left in the world was her voice.
“What could you have done? No one would blame you for that.”
“...”
“You can’t kill anything with just a letter. Those who take advantage of it are the bad guys.”
“..”
“Now, eat the soup. No, eat it.”
The body temperature fell after holding tightly. That hot warmth felt so desperately longed for.
He grabbed her wrist. Her slightly widening blue eyes were lovely. His salvation was barely a handful.
He thought of using her. For the sake of the family and perhaps for his own peace and atonement. He believed that returning the Princess to the Emperor would be the only way to escape the terrible guilt.
But for now, he just wanted her to be happy. He hoped the family she was looking for really was the Emperor. Even if not, she hoped she could protect her.
It was only after he saw Sasha's surprised face that he realized he was crying.
He was going to use her. He was going to make her marry him. He had calculated things so shamelessly, but when he paid all the attention to it, he was overcome by feelings of love.
“Are you crying? Oh, don’t cry.”
A small, embarrassed hand cupped his cheek. Anastasia's face was no longer visible. Just...
It's pretty, he thought, as if in a trance, while crying.
I bowed my head in despair before the mountain of vocabulary that Cesare had left behind.
Yes, this was definitely a disaster. I didn't even know that such a word existed in the world five minutes ago, and I wish I had never known, but unfortunately, that's not the case anymore.
At least since the time when they threw me a stack of paper a hand's length away, saying, 'The vocabulary is too limited, so memorize all the example sentences as well.'...
I looked at the pile of papers in despair once more. Memorize all this...
I sat with my upper body slumped over the desk, flapping the papers absentmindedly. My ears perked up. Isabella might barge in at any moment.
If Isabella happens to barge in and catches me sitting there in this slovenly manner, I'll have at least two more hours of posture correction time.
Now, I didn't even have any rebellious spirit left. For the first few days, I just tried to figure out how to avoid it, and I even got caught climbing over a stone wall and hiding in a rarely used maid's room.
The conclusion I reached was that it was nearly impossible for me to escape the mansion on my own.
I know this because I've tried it. Even if I somehow managed to escape, it was by no means easy to avoid the eyes of the knights who surrounded the mansion.
Now, I realize that just following the given routine obediently was the only way to keep my sleep schedule. In short, it meant that I was halfway giving up.
Yeah, words... To memorize a word, you have to write it first...
I dipped my quill pen into the ink and began to write on the paper, starting with the first page.
Contempt, disillusionment, scorn, hatred, despise, disdain, disgust...
Even leaving aside the fact that it was a mess from the very first word, I still couldn't understand why there were so many words with similar meanings.
If you're going to look down on me, then you're just looking down on me. If you say it in fancy terms, what's the difference?
During this time, the quality of the paper was so good that I was amazed at how good it was, unlike anything I had ever seen in my life.
When I studied at George, they used paper of much inferior quality than this. Surprisingly, such thin, crisp, and pure white paper is provided for practice purposes only.
When I regained consciousness, I was holding a piece of paper folded neatly into the shape of a bird in my hand.
Carelessly throwing the paper bird out the window was nothing more than a relapse of a childhood habit.
But I regretted it immediately. I threw it in the Duke's garden so someone would pick it up, and they would immediately know that I was the owner of the paper. I was a terrible writer.
Anyway, I had to go pick it up before rumors started spreading that the woman the Duke had taken in was littering the garden.
In a way, it wasn't a false accusation, and that paper wasn't trash either.
Bam.
I opened my eyes wide. The paper bird that had clearly flown out the window had flown back in.
I picked up the paper bird that had fallen on the floor. It wasn't the way I had folded it, but it looked like someone had crumpled it with force and then straightened it out again.
I stuck my head out the window. There was a familiar face down there.
“Your Excellency?”
As luck would have it, the window of the room I was in seemed to face the Duke's personal training room.
He looked up at me with narrowed eyes as if his eyes were dazzling. There was an embarrassed apology in his voice.
“Something flew at me... I grabbed it without knowing it was yours. I opened it and found out.”
I looked down at the paper bird in my hand again. It was closer to crumpling it than catching it.
Anyway, it was just a paper bird that I made without much thought, so I didn't have any great regrets.
I narrowed my eyes. I was the one being backlit, but I couldn't figure out why I was dazzled when I looked at him.
A light white shirt and comfortable cotton pants... It was the first time I saw him wearing such comfortable loungewear. I pulled myself together from the moment I almost lost my mind.
I almost got carried away. It seems like there's a reason he's called the coolest man in the empire.
Sometimes, when I see him, I feel like the words "he's too handsome" are only used for him.
“Because the practice paper flew away. It’s okay if it’s crumpled.”
I barely remembered what he said and answered.
“Well, that’s fortunate.”
He answered softly.
At some point, I began to notice a bit of warmth in those cold eyes. It wasn't hard at all to read the expressions of a slum dweller who had spent his whole life looking out for other people.
Even so, it's not a great affection, and it's just like dealing with someone you're somewhat familiar with... Sometimes, I get excited without thinking about it.
“I'll go that way.”
“...Uh, huh? Yes?”
Was it my fault that I couldn't give a proper answer because I was absentmindedly thinking like that? Or was it because my handwriting was so messy? He mumbled, "Just a moment," and disappeared from my sight.
It was obvious that he was coming this way because the footsteps were getting closer. He asked through the door.
“Can I come in for a moment?”
“Come in.”
The door opened gently.
“I saw something wrong with what I dropped earlier.”
If that were all for it, there would be no reason for him to come this far.
He was always busy, and just a few days ago, he was so tired that he fell off his horse.
But we've made plenty of exceptions so far, and there's no particular reason why this shouldn't be another one.
“What went wrong?”
He came up to the desk where I was leaning and unfolded a crumpled piece of paper.
He must have seen my bad handwriting before, but I felt embarrassed for some reason. He picked up the quill and filled in the mistakes.
“Here, you have to draw the strokes round. The meaning changes depending on whether you tilt this stroke, straighten it, or make it round.”
“...”
“And when writing words, you shouldn’t write them the way they are pronounced.”
I was a little disappointed. I had obviously forgotten all the letters, and I knew more words than anyone else in Georgesl. It was rare to find someone who had studied as much as I had.
But coming here, I often felt like a complete fool. For one thing, the letters used by the nobles were a bit different from those used by us commoners.
So, while we used simple letters with a few strokes omitted, the nobles wrote those letters straight without omitting any strokes.
I grumbled.
“It’s not like you can’t understand it even if I write it like this.”
“If it’s a sentence, then yes...”
You can tell from the context. He trailed off.
I noticed that Laskan's expression was a little broken, as it usually is when you see something cute.
Embarrassed, I grabbed Laskan's sleeve and held it out so that his palm was facing upward.
“Then let me guess this.”
“...”
“Don’t look. Close your eyes and try to guess what I wrote here.”
I traced my fingers across his solid palm, deliberately choosing the most complex words I knew.
"Description."
Got it. I quickly wrote down the next words.
“Avoid.”
I wrote quickly on purpose. This time, he tilted his head, perhaps because it was difficult. But he soon found the answer.
"Closing."
“See? You understood everything.”
“I guess so.”
A look came across that said, “It’s not like that for me. It was like that for you, wasn’t it difficult?”
I rather gained courage and asserted myself more shamelessly.
“Since everyone will understand anyway, it’s not a big problem if I shorten it a bit.”
“There is a difference between knowingly abbreviating something and using it freely from the beginning.”
“...”
“Extend your hand.”
He couldn't even raise his head. He couldn't dare say such things while looking at a face that resembled Anastasia's.
But the hand that was lightly holding him and stroking his back was just...
"It's okay."
The churning in his head suddenly stopped. The only thing left in the world was her voice.
“What could you have done? No one would blame you for that.”
“...”
“You can’t kill anything with just a letter. Those who take advantage of it are the bad guys.”
“..”
“Now, eat the soup. No, eat it.”
The body temperature fell after holding tightly. That hot warmth felt so desperately longed for.
He grabbed her wrist. Her slightly widening blue eyes were lovely. His salvation was barely a handful.
He thought of using her. For the sake of the family and perhaps for his own peace and atonement. He believed that returning the Princess to the Emperor would be the only way to escape the terrible guilt.
But for now, he just wanted her to be happy. He hoped the family she was looking for really was the Emperor. Even if not, she hoped she could protect her.
It was only after he saw Sasha's surprised face that he realized he was crying.
He was going to use her. He was going to make her marry him. He had calculated things so shamelessly, but when he paid all the attention to it, he was overcome by feelings of love.
“Are you crying? Oh, don’t cry.”
A small, embarrassed hand cupped his cheek. Anastasia's face was no longer visible. Just...
It's pretty, he thought, as if in a trance, while crying.
***
I bowed my head in despair before the mountain of vocabulary that Cesare had left behind.
Yes, this was definitely a disaster. I didn't even know that such a word existed in the world five minutes ago, and I wish I had never known, but unfortunately, that's not the case anymore.
At least since the time when they threw me a stack of paper a hand's length away, saying, 'The vocabulary is too limited, so memorize all the example sentences as well.'...
I looked at the pile of papers in despair once more. Memorize all this...
I sat with my upper body slumped over the desk, flapping the papers absentmindedly. My ears perked up. Isabella might barge in at any moment.
If Isabella happens to barge in and catches me sitting there in this slovenly manner, I'll have at least two more hours of posture correction time.
Now, I didn't even have any rebellious spirit left. For the first few days, I just tried to figure out how to avoid it, and I even got caught climbing over a stone wall and hiding in a rarely used maid's room.
The conclusion I reached was that it was nearly impossible for me to escape the mansion on my own.
I know this because I've tried it. Even if I somehow managed to escape, it was by no means easy to avoid the eyes of the knights who surrounded the mansion.
Now, I realize that just following the given routine obediently was the only way to keep my sleep schedule. In short, it meant that I was halfway giving up.
Yeah, words... To memorize a word, you have to write it first...
I dipped my quill pen into the ink and began to write on the paper, starting with the first page.
Contempt, disillusionment, scorn, hatred, despise, disdain, disgust...
Even leaving aside the fact that it was a mess from the very first word, I still couldn't understand why there were so many words with similar meanings.
If you're going to look down on me, then you're just looking down on me. If you say it in fancy terms, what's the difference?
During this time, the quality of the paper was so good that I was amazed at how good it was, unlike anything I had ever seen in my life.
When I studied at George, they used paper of much inferior quality than this. Surprisingly, such thin, crisp, and pure white paper is provided for practice purposes only.
When I regained consciousness, I was holding a piece of paper folded neatly into the shape of a bird in my hand.
Carelessly throwing the paper bird out the window was nothing more than a relapse of a childhood habit.
But I regretted it immediately. I threw it in the Duke's garden so someone would pick it up, and they would immediately know that I was the owner of the paper. I was a terrible writer.
Anyway, I had to go pick it up before rumors started spreading that the woman the Duke had taken in was littering the garden.
In a way, it wasn't a false accusation, and that paper wasn't trash either.
Bam.
I opened my eyes wide. The paper bird that had clearly flown out the window had flown back in.
I picked up the paper bird that had fallen on the floor. It wasn't the way I had folded it, but it looked like someone had crumpled it with force and then straightened it out again.
I stuck my head out the window. There was a familiar face down there.
“Your Excellency?”
As luck would have it, the window of the room I was in seemed to face the Duke's personal training room.
He looked up at me with narrowed eyes as if his eyes were dazzling. There was an embarrassed apology in his voice.
“Something flew at me... I grabbed it without knowing it was yours. I opened it and found out.”
I looked down at the paper bird in my hand again. It was closer to crumpling it than catching it.
Anyway, it was just a paper bird that I made without much thought, so I didn't have any great regrets.
I narrowed my eyes. I was the one being backlit, but I couldn't figure out why I was dazzled when I looked at him.
A light white shirt and comfortable cotton pants... It was the first time I saw him wearing such comfortable loungewear. I pulled myself together from the moment I almost lost my mind.
I almost got carried away. It seems like there's a reason he's called the coolest man in the empire.
Sometimes, when I see him, I feel like the words "he's too handsome" are only used for him.
“Because the practice paper flew away. It’s okay if it’s crumpled.”
I barely remembered what he said and answered.
“Well, that’s fortunate.”
He answered softly.
At some point, I began to notice a bit of warmth in those cold eyes. It wasn't hard at all to read the expressions of a slum dweller who had spent his whole life looking out for other people.
Even so, it's not a great affection, and it's just like dealing with someone you're somewhat familiar with... Sometimes, I get excited without thinking about it.
“I'll go that way.”
“...Uh, huh? Yes?”
Was it my fault that I couldn't give a proper answer because I was absentmindedly thinking like that? Or was it because my handwriting was so messy? He mumbled, "Just a moment," and disappeared from my sight.
It was obvious that he was coming this way because the footsteps were getting closer. He asked through the door.
“Can I come in for a moment?”
“Come in.”
The door opened gently.
“I saw something wrong with what I dropped earlier.”
If that were all for it, there would be no reason for him to come this far.
He was always busy, and just a few days ago, he was so tired that he fell off his horse.
But we've made plenty of exceptions so far, and there's no particular reason why this shouldn't be another one.
“What went wrong?”
He came up to the desk where I was leaning and unfolded a crumpled piece of paper.
He must have seen my bad handwriting before, but I felt embarrassed for some reason. He picked up the quill and filled in the mistakes.
“Here, you have to draw the strokes round. The meaning changes depending on whether you tilt this stroke, straighten it, or make it round.”
“...”
“And when writing words, you shouldn’t write them the way they are pronounced.”
I was a little disappointed. I had obviously forgotten all the letters, and I knew more words than anyone else in Georgesl. It was rare to find someone who had studied as much as I had.
But coming here, I often felt like a complete fool. For one thing, the letters used by the nobles were a bit different from those used by us commoners.
So, while we used simple letters with a few strokes omitted, the nobles wrote those letters straight without omitting any strokes.
I grumbled.
“It’s not like you can’t understand it even if I write it like this.”
“If it’s a sentence, then yes...”
You can tell from the context. He trailed off.
I noticed that Laskan's expression was a little broken, as it usually is when you see something cute.
Embarrassed, I grabbed Laskan's sleeve and held it out so that his palm was facing upward.
“Then let me guess this.”
“...”
“Don’t look. Close your eyes and try to guess what I wrote here.”
I traced my fingers across his solid palm, deliberately choosing the most complex words I knew.
"Description."
Got it. I quickly wrote down the next words.
“Avoid.”
I wrote quickly on purpose. This time, he tilted his head, perhaps because it was difficult. But he soon found the answer.
"Closing."
“See? You understood everything.”
“I guess so.”
A look came across that said, “It’s not like that for me. It was like that for you, wasn’t it difficult?”
I rather gained courage and asserted myself more shamelessly.
“Since everyone will understand anyway, it’s not a big problem if I shorten it a bit.”
“There is a difference between knowingly abbreviating something and using it freely from the beginning.”
“...”
“Extend your hand.”
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