"Don't hate him too much. He's just very cautious because he's often lonely."
"Yes, I don't hate him."
"Really?"
"ā¦A little?"
Ethan burst into laughter at my answer. He laughed heartily, holding his stomach. I propped my chin in my hand and looked at him coldly.
"You missed one. This occasional honest side is also part of Polar's charm."
"I'll pass on that charm."
"Haha. Sometimes it's okay to scold him. Discipline is necessary, after all. The governess is so concerned about Robert that she only tries to soothe him when he's being stubborn, so there should be someone to scold him."
"Thank you for your advice."
Then I'll discipline him firmly. If anyone says anything, I'll tell them that Lord Ethan gave me permission. With that thought, I nodded, and Ethan laughed again.
"Did you meet Joelie? Well, if you're staying here, you'd have to meet her eventually."
"Yes. But what is her relationship with the master?"
I had been curious about this. Robert is Violet's son, so that made sense. And I was relieved that Vincent hadn't cut ties with Violet. But I still didn't understand Joelie's identity.
Wait, he called Robert his nephew. So, he must be related to Violet...
"Didn't you know?"
"Huh? Know what?"
"ā¦Ah, right. You might not have noticed."
"Huh?"
Confused by his words, I tilted my head. Ethan groaned and whispered softly.
"This is a real secret, I'm only telling you, Polar. You mustn't tell anyone, got it?"
"Ah, yes."
"She's a princess."
"Yes, a princessā¦ ā¦What?!"
I was surprised in a different way. As I gasped, Ethan scratched his head and asked if I didn't know. At this point, his question seemed meaningless.
"Violet and Joelie have been close friends since childhood. Even though she's royalty, she never treated people based on their status. Thanks to that, they've maintained a long friendship."
"Then, was it in the newspaper?"
"You saw it? Yes, the engagement announcement with Vincent."
"Really?"
"Ah, it wasn't real. It was just a rumor."
I really didn't know. The faces in the newspaper photos were too small to recognize. And the princess in the photo looked elegant and dignifiedā¦ Who would have imagined she was living like this in a forest mansion?
"Then, how did she end up here?"
"It's a long story, but for her true life?"
"What do you mean?"
"People sometimes need a place to breathe."
He spoke in riddles. I frowned, not understanding at all. Ethan laughed again, perhaps amused by my expression. But seeing that he wasn't going to elaborate, it seemed he didn't want to tell me the whole story.
"You called Robert your nephew, so he must be related to Lady Violet?"
"Family. Violet is royalty, despite appearances."
"I didn't know."
Violet seemed different now.
"Anything else you're curious about?"
When his laughter had subsided, Ethan asked. I thought for a moment. Another question came to mindā¦ Perhaps it was the first thing I wanted to ask when I met him.
Looking at his cheerful face, I hesitated before speaking.
"Lord Ethan."
"Yes?"
"When I saw Lord Vincent again, I could see his eyes."
I swallowed hard. Ethan paused, then slowly nodded, encouraging me to continue.
"I was worried, but he looked healthier and seemed to be living a healthy life. His eyes looked very good."
"But?"
"Butā¦ the moment I saw him, I had a question."
I felt short of breath as I spoke. My chest felt tight. I licked my dry lips. Ethan waited calmly, as if giving me courage.
I tried to speak several times but couldn't bring myself to ask the question lingering in my mind. Sensing my hesitation, Ethan smiled kindly. He seemed to know what I was going to ask. Or rather, he had given me permission.
It's okay, ask.
Ethan was still the same. He kept his own feelings hidden but could see through others' hearts sharply. That's why being with him was uncomfortable.
This time, he read my inner thoughts. It was the first thing I wanted to ask when I met him, but also something I couldn't easily bring up.
I moved my lips and finally managed to say one word.
"How is Lord Lucas?"
Finally, I asked about his well-being.
"I was wondering when you'd ask."
"ā¦"
"Why did seeing Vincent make you think of Lucas?"
"Lord Lucas once saidā¦"
At the time, I thought he was just joking. But when I met Vincent again, I realized it was serious. Maybe I wanted to believe I had misunderstood. I was angry at his joking attitude but also relieved it was a joke. It was a relief that it was a joke.
A kind person.
And yet, a bad person.
"He said he wanted to give Vincent his world."
As I said this, I felt a lump in my throat. Thinking of Lucas always made my heart ache. My chest tightened, and my throat filled with sorrow, making me feel like I was suffocating. That's why I avoided thinking about him. I pretended not to know, thinking he was living well and ignoring the anxiety in my heart. I knew I couldn't forget, but I indulged my own desires.
Lucas must be living happily and well.
Because he has to.
Ethan gave me the answer now. His brown eyes, tinged with sadness, comforted me. I didn't want to see his face anymore, so I covered my face with my hands, bending my waist to touch my knees, afraid he might ask me to look up.
"Polar."
"ā¦Yes."
"Lucas didn't hesitate. He didn't regret it."
"Was there no other way?"
"Maybe. If we had waited, there might have been another way. A way for Lucas to live and for Vincent to step out into the world. But time was running out. Lucas's condition was getting worse every day. His frail health since childhood was one of the reasons."
"ā¦"
"It was what Lucas wanted. It was his own choice, so I wanted to respect it."
Ethan's voice was calm. But I knew how much pain he must have endured to be able to say this. I knew very well. Who would welcome a sibling's decision to end their life, especially for a friend?
Both Lucas and Vincent had their own reasons. Ethan made a choice and had to bear the consequences of that choice.
How much did he agonize and suffer before he could respect and accept Lucas's decision? Now I understood the meaning of his words to me.
The earl who survived by eating his own flesh. That was his truth. A very sad truth.
I remembered his face, frozen and unsmiling. That face, uncharacteristic of him, was the shell left after he had endured everything. The face that smiled at me might have been more pained than mine. I knew his habit of trying to overcome sadness with a light attitude.
Tears fell drop by drop. The sobs I had tried to suppress by biting my lips finally escaped. This was the second time I had cried since coming here.
The first was for Lucas.
Now, for Ethan.
And for the other man who had to accept this situation.
This was all I could do for them.
"Polar, will you remember him? No matter how sad, don't forget and keep the memories of Lucas in your heart?"
Can I do that? Can I, who left him behind and ran away, do that? Can I, who tried to forget everything after running away, remember him?
As if reading my mind, Ethan patted my shoulder, as if to say it was okay.
"Remember him. I want you to remember him, Polar."
"Sniff, yesā¦ I willā¦ I won't forgetā¦"
"Thank you."
I shook my head, saying it wasn't enough. He just patted my shoulder gently, comforting me.
I lifted my head slightly. When I lowered my hands, Ethan's eyes widened and then turned mischievous. My tear-stained face must have looked funny.
Ethan handed me a handkerchief. Instead of taking it, I reached out and stroked his hair.
What kind of time did Ethan spend after being left alone? Vincent locked himself in his room when he went blind, but I don't think Ethan did. He, who judged situations more rationally than anyone, must have kept moving forward without looking back, afraid that sorrow would overwhelm him. Just like me, he must have done the same.
That's why it hurt even more.
"You've been through a lot."
"ā¦"
"You've been strong."
Ethan's smile faded as he listened to me. I smiled gently and comforted him. I didn't hide my tear-streaked, messy face. I wanted to cry for Ethan, who hadn't been able to cry freely.
"Thank you for enduring."
"ā¦Don't say that."
"Thank you for living."
"ā¦"
"Thank you."
Ethan's face finally distorted. I wanted to break down the walls he had built and let out the emotions he had locked inside.
Ethan covered his face with one hand. I stroked his hair affectionately again.
But he didn't cry. After taking a deep breath, Ethan quickly composed himself. The walls were only slightly cracked, not broken. I knew this was how he protected himself. There were no tear marks on his face, only slightly red eyes.
Ethan took my wrist, which was stroking his hair, and lowered it.