As he was in agony, the dark angel whispered to him.
âItâs okay. Someday, it will be⊠only we knowâŠâ
He couldnât remember everything that the angel said, but her faintly lilting voice made him feel so comfortable.
âI know for sure. You willâŠâ
What was the angelâs prophecy again?
He couldnât remember it either.
But it was clear that, when he was still young, her words served as his motivation in life.
His courage to continue living.
Waking up, Yves Russell stretched widely, tossing away the sleep mask that was covering his eyes.
He yawned languidly and swept up the hair that was covering his forehead.
Underneath the morning sun, his bare face was revealed.
With slumber still lingering, his bright golden eyes gleamed as sunlight streamed through the windows.
âItâs been a while since I dreamed of the angelâŠâ
Yvesâs forehead, which was smooth until now, became slightly wrinkled.
The voice of the dark angel in his dream⊠oddly sounded very similar to Radisâs voice.
As soon as he realized it, it was as if Yves had been doused in cold water.
His memory of the dark angel was his sanctuary.
It was what he dreamed for since the beginning, and became a memory that became more and more blurred as time passed by. Thatâs why he wanted to keep the dark angel more preciously in his heart.
It was unbearable for him that his memory had deteriorated to this degree. At this point, he might have forgotten about her altogether.
Distressed, Yves held his head with both hands tightly.
âYves Russell! Are you this easy! Did you fall for the black cloak just like that? Sheâs humanâ human!â
Hitting himself a few times, Yves was soon able to regain a bit of his rationality.
He stared at where he had thrown his sleeping mask.
It looked black, but it was actually dark blue that only looked like black.
Yves Russell smiled coldly.
âBwahaha⊠Iâm going to succeed. Iâll get through this eventually, even without Radisâs helpâŠ!â
That very day, Yves Russell rode the momentum he was on and proudly chose a blue vest and brown pants.
Glancing at the marquis with worried eyes, April asked.
âYour Excellency, are you sure you donât mind?â
âWill I be alright? Of course I will.â
Yves looked down at his clothes, eyes a bit clouded over.
âItâs okay. Even if I look at it like this, itâs not that different from black. Todayâs schedule also isnât as busy, so I just need to finish everything as soon as possible. Then Iâll succeed.â
Entering the office while laughing maniacally, he soon found Marcel, who had bloodshot eyes and was standing tall as if in protest.
âGood morning, Your Excellency.â
It was a normal greeting, yet somehow sounded like a curse at the same time. Even so, Yves ignored it and lightly sat down in his seat.
Marcel let out a heavy sigh.
âYour Excellency, itâs early in the morning, but we have a visitor waiting.â
He was about to put his legs on the desk, but Yves asked back.
âItâs⊠someone from House Roderick.â
Yves looked at Marcel as if heâd been told that monsters were rising from the mansionâs toilets.
As any of House Russell would, especially Yves, the mere mention of the Roderick name made him grit his teeth.
Just hearing it made him feel like bile was coming up his throat.
House Roderick had long since regarded House Russell as their nemesis for so many generations now, even though they were far out of their league.
Besides that, Franz Roderickâthe current household head of the Roderick familyâwas an unbelievable man who had devoted all of his life to undermining the status of Yves Russell, who became a marquis at the age of eight.
âWhy are you even telling me? You should have kicked âem out right away.â
Itâs not unreasonable that Yves had reacted like this.
Compared to the Roderick family, this blue vest and brown pants were a breeze. Heâd rather take these rather than deal with that guy.
Knowing this fact well enough, Marcel carefully opened his lips as he tried to gauge the marquisâs mood.
âWell⊠He said he must see Your Excellency.â
âThen he must be kicked out. Iâm sure heâs just trying to pick a silly fight or something. Oh, maybe that person is here to protest about what happened at the night market before?â
Finally putting his legs on the desk, Yves continued.
âNever mind. The relationship between this household and that wonât get worse than this, so just leave the guy alone, whether he leaves or not.â