Chapter 11: Resolve and the Curtain Falls

I poked at the folded paper irritably.

After that incident, Michaelis and Jibril returned to the Domitrius territory surprisingly quickly.
Kishtarial and Julius came back to the Lattiche ducal estate.

And yet, despite waiting so long for their return, something felt off.

Kishtarial was still kind.
Julius was still flawlessly competent.

But during our time apart, the difference in our genders had become unmistakable.
If we had stayed together all along, perhaps I would not have noticed the gradual change.

Michaelis’s transformation was the most dramatic.
He had become strikingly handsome—overwhelingly so.

That day, I had approached him playfully.
He had wrapped an arm around me.
I had squealed and squirmed, and he had merely steadied me so I would not fall.

Yes. That must be all it was.
No misunderstandings.
I am not the heroine. I am the villainess.

If I grow careless, a death flag could rise at any moment.
Until Kishtarial and the others graduate from the academy, I must remain quiet.

But why this strange air between us?
I had imagined we would return to our old, chaotic days—my impulsive schemes dragging them along, Michaelis getting caught up in them, Jibril joining for fun.

Instead, we stand on fragile equilibrium.

I cannot act like a dense heroine.
Because I noticed.

Michaelis no longer looks at me as a childhood friend or little sister.
He looks at me as a woman.

And perhaps that awareness has spread.
Kishtarial, at his sensitive age, feels different.
Even Julius—unexpectedly—seems strained.

Raven, blissfully unaware of such subtleties, tilts his head in confusion.
Adorable creature.
I patted his neatly shaped head for comfort.

Julius did not look pleased.

It is only a little affection.
Kishtarial no longer lets me pat his head.

Sometimes I think—if I stay here forever, unmarried, lingering in Lattiche—would I only burden Kishtarial and his future wife?

Perhaps I should begin researching suitable convents.

Romance in this world is a death flag.
Albertina von Lattiche meets cruel endings depending on the route.
Exile.
Violation.
Execution.

I refuse.
I would rather live in peace, even as a lifelong maiden.

Father would annihilate anyone who dared harm me.
But even he is not invincible.

That thought chills me.

I slipped quietly into the back garden to clear my mind.
Clover grows in this world as well.
Perhaps I should make Raven a flower crown.

As I fumbled with green-stained fingers, a shadow fell over me.

“…Albel-sama, what are you doing?”

Julius stood there, holding my lace parasol, looking at me with gentle reproach.

“A young lady should not remain in direct sunlight,” he said softly.

Young lady.
A ducal daughter.
And yet, one lacking proper worth.

I smiled faintly and placed the half-finished flower crown upon his immaculate black hair.

It suited him.

“You look lovely,” I teased.

“…Is that so.”

He averted his gaze, faintly embarrassed.

I reached to place my grass-stained hand atop his—

And he pulled away.

“Why… why are you…!”

The flower crown crumpled in his fist.
Crushed.

“Julius?”

“If it were anyone but you…! If it were not you, I would not have loved…! I would not have had to love!”

The crown hit the ground.
He ground it beneath his polished shoe.

His violet eyes burned like lightning.
Not with anger.
With anguish.

“I would not have loved you!”

The confession tore from him like blood from a wound.

Loved?
Me?

I stared at him.
This was not the composed, smiling Julius I knew.

He knelt, shoulders trembling.

I reached for his cheek.

“I am sorry, Julius. I have caused you hardship.”

He flinched as if struck.

“I will tell you first,” I said quietly.

My decision had long lingered unspoken.
But I cannot keep delaying.

“After Kishtarial graduates, I will enter a convent.”

His eyes widened.

“I am a ducal daughter who has fulfilled none of her duties. Father risks himself for my sake. Kishtarial bears burdens because I am inadequate. I cannot remain a child forever.”

“…You are lying,” he whispered.

“No.”

“Was my service insufficient? Was I not worthy to stand at your side?”

“It is not your fault. You have served splendidly. I am grateful.”

“Then why reject me?!”

“Because you are dear to me.”

And precisely because of that—

“I do not want anyone to ruin their life for my sake. My bloodline attracts ambition. Even if I refuse, others will seek to use me—through marriage, through heirs. Lattiche already holds too much power. I will not add to it.”

“Kishtarial could—”

“He deserves a happy marriage. A capable lady who can support him, like Lady Lattine.”

“Then marry Michaelis—”

“I am a flawed noblewoman. The scandal of my injury is known. And even if it were possible, the balance of power would tip dangerously.”

“You are not useless! Do you know how many you have saved—”

“Thank you. That is enough.”

“Does nothing I say reach you?”

It does, Julius.
It reaches me painfully well.

But I cannot return your feelings with equal fervor.
To accept your love would bind you to my fate.

If I take anyone’s hand, my curse will entangle them.

Had we met under different stars, perhaps—

But such thoughts are meaningless.