I said calmly, clearing my hoarse throat. My voice was in bad shape after shouting all night. When I secretly cleared my throat, the sharp-eared Vincent immediately turned to look at me. I pretended not to notice and poured water into an empty cup, then handed it to him.
He revealed a puzzled look as he took the cup. Lucas, who was sitting next to him, suddenly held out an empty cup. He had come in early in the morning, saying he didn't want to eat alone, and we were having breakfast together.
"Pola, give me some too."
"……."
I poured water without even looking at his face. Even when he said "thank you," I ignored it. Lucas laughed awkwardly.
The tense atmosphere continued. The only sound in the room was the clinking of dishes, and an uncomfortable air hung in the air. Vincent furrowed his brow, sensing the tension.
"Did something happen?"
"Huh? What happened?"
"I mean, between the two of you."
"Nothing happened."
Absolutely nothing, I emphasized, cutting my words short. Vincent closed his mouth. Lucas quietly drank the water. I busily cleared the empty dishes, making enough noise to rattle them.
When I left the room, Lucas followed me. I still didn't look at him.
"You're really angry, aren't you?"
"……."
"Locking the door was wrong. I got scared after what I did."
"……."
"Pola."
"……."
No matter how many times he called, I didn't respond. His steps behind me stopped. In the quiet corridor, only my footsteps echoed. I quickened my pace, glaring straight ahead. I was that angry.
Bastard. Jerk. How could he say such things as a joke? I was so shocked that I felt like I couldn't breathe and my mind went blank.
But even now, thinking about it.
"Really, it's too much."
As my anger intensified, the paper in my hand crumpled. I gritted my teeth.
"No, there's a limit to how much you can joke around. What? A joke? How can you make such a tasteless joke and find it funny!"
I huffed and cursed, then regained my composure. I took a deep breath and read the words in front of me. It was a scene where the protagonist and a companion were having a conversation.
[Don't do that. I can't sacrifice you.]
[I'll do anything for you.]
"No, why should you sacrifice yourself!"
Are you that great? Huh? My anger flared up again. I gritted my teeth, crumpling the paper so much that the words were unreadable.
"Master, don't you think so too? Isn't it really too much?"
"What are you talking about?"
Vincent, who was always listening to the book I read, frowned. I didn't back down. I slammed my fist on the table and criticized the complacent attitude of the companion in the story, saying he didn't think about others. Vincent looked at me as if I were a madwoman.
Joke? Fine, a joke! Let's see how far a joke can go, you bastard! Wasn't he Ethan's brother? Now that I look at him, he's a perfect match for someone who causes trouble.
In the end, I slammed the table again. Thud! Thud! Thud! I felt pain in my hand, but my anger didn't subside.
"Stop it."
He stopped me by holding my fist. I panted, then gradually came to my senses. As my mind cleared, embarrassment welled up. When I tried to pull my hand away, Vincent held it tighter.
"Did something happen with Lucas?"
"No."
I answered firmly, but he was already suspicious. His sharp gaze seemed to pierce me. I averted my eyes to avoid his gaze.
"Something unpleasant happened."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Tell me."
When I stubbornly kept my mouth shut, Vincent sighed. I still didn't want to tell him. It was a word I didn't even want to say. It wasn't something he would enjoy hearing.
'I'll give my world to my brother.'
Even if it was a joke, how could he say such a thing?
"Whatever it is, let it go."
"If you command it."
"I'm saying this for your own good."
He unclenched my hand. Then he gently massaged it. He focused on one spot, and I noticed the skin was red. His fingers brushed over it.
"It might bruise."
"It won't be that bad."
"You can be angry and even hit, but don't hurt yourself."
"Really, can I hit him?"
"You can. I'll allow it."
It was a tempting offer. Oh, really?
"Really?"
"Yes. If you need an excuse, say it's my command."
"Then lend me a tool."
"A tool?"
"A cane."
My gaze was fixed on the cane he had once swung at Ethan. The window had broken, but the cane was fine except for a few scratches.
I had been eyeing it all along. When I mentioned it, Vincent laughed. He seemed to understand why I wanted the cane.
"Sure."
So I borrowed the cane from him. I carried it with me, touching it whenever my anger flared up, or secretly taking it out to swing. The whooshing sound it made as it cut through the air was quite satisfying.
Not bad at all?
I swung it in a wider space. Oh, I swung it again in admiration. I could understand why Vincent swung this. Satisfied with the choice of weapon, I recalled the faces of people who had made my life difficult. I swung and hit them. They cried out in pain and made grimaces. It was just imagination, but it felt good.
Before I knew it, I was circling around, focusing on it. Just as I swung the cane to the side, something suddenly appeared in front of me. I gasped and took a step back, startled. My opponent was frozen, hands raised. Something fluttered and fell between us.
"Please, spare me."
"No, no. I'm sorry."
I quickly lowered the cane, flustered. Lucas took a few steps back, then clutched his chest and let out a sigh of relief. His eyes quickly scanned the cane in my hand.
"What are you doing here? What's that?"
"Nothing."
"Did you try to hit me with it?"
"……."
When I remained silent, Lucas's face hardened. He continued in a serious tone.
"I'm sorry. I really am. Please spare me."
"Why did you say that, knowing how I feel?"
"……."
"I hate it when you joke about death."
My anger flared up again. I was angrier that he had spoken so lightly about his own death than that he had made a joke.
Some people want to live but can't. At least, that was the case around me. I had seen many deaths and didn't want to treat them lightly. It was too much to treat a noble's wordplay as a joke. Moreover, the reason behind it wasn't something to be easily dismissed.
Of course, I didn't want him to be serious, but that was still unacceptable.
"Pola is right. There's no need to defend yourself. I must have been a bit crazy. Vincent, I did something really bad to my brother, and the guilt was so overwhelming... I must have thought that if I could do something to help my brother, even something like that... I shouldn't have said it to Pola, but it slipped out without me realizing, and I tried to cover it up... I'm really sorry. It was a mistake. I sincerely apologize."
"……."
"Please forgive me."
He suddenly held out his hand. I wondered if he wanted to shake hands as an apology, but he seemed even more flustered. Then Lucas, who had been quickly scanning the area, bowed deeply. A bouquet of flowers had fallen at his feet. It must have been the flowers that fell earlier.
"I'm sorry."
He held out a bouquet of white flowers and bowed deeply. They were the flowers from the mysterious place in the forest we visited last time. The flowers I had said I liked several times. His clothes were still covered in petals, as if he had just picked them.
I glared at his bowed head and fiddled with the cane in my hand. Hit him? Or not? Ignore him? After a moment of conflict, I sighed. I already knew he was sincerely apologizing.
"Don't joke about death. Ever."
"I won't."
"And don't say things like that."
"Thank you for forgiving me."
"I haven't forgiven you."
To be precise, I decided to wait and see.
I stuck the cane on the floor next to his hand. He slightly raised his head. I smiled and added that I had Master's permission. Without saying what I had permission for, Lucas nodded repeatedly, sensing the danger.
He didn't seem to plan on straightening up until I took the bouquet. If I left him alone, he might have knelt down. It didn't matter to me, but if other servants saw, it might have spread bad rumors.
In the end, I took the bouquet, and he straightened up, expressing his gratitude. I shrugged.
"I was worried that you wouldn't forgive me."
"Would you have kept doing this?"
"Yes, I would have kept following you and asking for forgiveness."
That's a bit scary. If I had kept ignoring him, would he have shaken me awake in bed to ask for forgiveness?
"So I'm glad. I want to make a good impression on Pola."
"On me? Why?"
"Because I like Pola."
I was surprised for a moment by his words but quickly regained my composure. I don't believe you anymore. I laughed it off, but he didn't stop.
"I really like Pola."
"Sure, sure."
"This is sincere."
"An honor."
As I nonchalantly replied and looked at the bouquet, my shoulder was suddenly grabbed, and my body was pulled forward. Something touched my cheek. It really touched me.
Something soft.
"Ack!"
I screamed and ran away. Rubbing my cheek, I turned around to see Lucas grinning at me. He looked too carefree.
"I said it was sincere."
He was a man who never let me relax, even at the end.