Chapter 17
Count Rudin and his wife stared blankly, their lips parted in shock.
It was a statement and behavior that utterly shattered the common sense of high society.
And in the face of the twins’ fierce reaction, Cheshire found herself gaping right along with them.
‘Is she protecting me just because I bear the Basilian name now?’
She had been adopted out of sheer necessity.
Of course, they had grown a bit closer lately…
‘But it’s still all fake, isn’t it?’
Cheshire regarded the twins with a slightly fresh perspective.
In the midst of this, Belzeon rose from his seat a moment too late.
“Karha, Ishuel!”
He called their names coldly, his glare piercing.
The twins pouted their lips in unison.
Karha sheathed his sword once more and moved to Ishuel’s side.
Belzeon apologized to Count Rudin and his wife on behalf of the twins.
“I’m sorry. My younger siblings are still young and lack maturity. Please, I beg you to forgive them generously.”
No matter what, one couldn’t treat a fellow noble like this—especially Count Rudin, a prominent figure in the capital’s social circles and even an attendant to the Emperor.
Whatever his true motives might be, the fact that Count Rudin’s outward actions had been framed as ‘help’ made it all the more imperative.
Belzeon’s conduct in this moment was the product of purely rational judgment.
Finally encountering someone who adhered to common sense, Count Rudin exploded in fury.
“What in the world—father and sons alike, every one of you is the epitome of rudeness!”
He bellowed that he hadn’t liked them from the moment they arrived from the east.
Beside Count Rudin, his wife burst into sobs.
Before the count, who was spitting with rage as he shouted, Belzeon quietly offered another apology.
“I’m sorry.”
“Ha! I have no desire to speak further with children. With things escalating like this, what on earth is Count Basilian doing?”
“Count Basilian is…”
Belzeon began to speak but faltered midway.
Count Rudin pressed him again.
“Why isn’t Kierne Basilian rushing over here at once? What is he doing? Contact him immediately!”
“…”
Belzeon moved his lips several times.
But in the end, he couldn’t utter a word.
Count Rudin let out a scoff, as if utterly dumbfounded.
“I see now just how the Basilian count’s household operates.”
He lowered his voice, muttering softly under his breath.
“This is exactly why they show the signs of growing up without a mother…”
Fire sparked in Ishuel and Karha’s eyes.
This time, they seemed truly intent on killing the count and his wife.
Yet they did nothing.
It was because Belzeon had sent them a warning glance.
“…”
The twins clenched their teeth and held back.
Meanwhile, Count Rudin issued an arrogant warning.
“I won’t let this incident slide so easily.”
He tended to his sobbing wife at his side and stormed out of the drawing room.
Huffing with anger, he flung the door open with a resounding bang, startling all the servants into rushing over.
Count Rudin shouted loudly, as if ensuring the servants could hear.
“It would be wise for Count Basilian to come personally and apologize for this rudeness!”
The servants hurried after him to see off the grumbling count as he departed.
Only the three Basilian brothers and Cheshire remained in the drawing room.
The twins and Cheshire turned their gazes toward Belzeon.
“Brother! Let me go after that bastard right now and…!”
Ishuel, his eyes blazing a fierce red as he cried out, slowly closed his mouth.
It was because Belzeon’s aura felt profoundly off.
Belzeon didn’t erupt in anger.
He remained expressionless for a moment, then let out a small sigh.
Soon after, he turned slowly and spoke.
“Don’t do anything.”
With just those words, he vanished from the room.
The little ones left behind in the drawing room were utterly deflated.
Normally, the two would have been causing a lively uproar, but the atmosphere was bleak.
Ishuel pulled Cheshire into a tight embrace and murmured.
“Brother apologized.”
He bit his lower lip until it turned pale white, then spoke again.
“It must wound his pride so deeply.”
“…Me too.”
The twins fell silent for a time.
A melancholic stillness settled between them.
Karha, who had been pressing his lips tightly together, suddenly burst out shouting.
“But what did I even do wrong? That woman started the fight! Calling the baby something about an orphanage!”
Karha pointed accusingly at Cheshire as he ranted.
“Even if she’s this tiny, she has ears! She understands everything she hears!”
“I guess putting up with things like that is just how high society works.”
“How do you endure it? What if I can’t hold back?”
“We need to have even greater power.”
“We don’t have it right now, though. Power.”
“Yeah.”
Karha clenched his fist in bitter frustration.
“Should we just kill them?”
“Let’s kill them. Want to go tonight?”
Ishuel actively backed Karha’s suggestion.
But now that Ishuel had laid the groundwork, Karha seemed a little intimidated and made a show of backing off slightly.
“Hey, what if we get caught? Belzeon will really be furious.”
“Are you too scared of our brother to kill someone?”
“No, it’s not that…”
While the twins squabbled over what to do with Count Rudin and his wife, Cheshire rolled her lips inward and bit down.
Watching Belzeon apologize, and seeing the twins so downcast, left her feeling utterly miserable.
Especially that boy who hadn’t been able to say a word in front of the enraged adults.
The small silhouette quietly slipping away after handling everything kept haunting her vision.
‘It’s really getting to me…’
In the end, Cheshire resolved to go find Belzeon.
“Put me dwown pwease!”
“Huh? Want to go to the bedroom?”
“Yes.”
When she asked to be taken by the servants, they let her go without protest.
The twins were probably still in the drawing room, hatching some plan to deal with Count Rudin and his wife.
Once out of the drawing room, Cheshire summoned a small butterfly.
It was one that could locate people within a certain range.
“Belzeon.”
As she spoke the target’s name, the butterfly began fluttering its wings.
After flying for a short while, the butterfly alighted in front of the study door.
Cheshire, having followed the butterfly, gazed up at the door for a moment.
She fretted briefly over how to turn the knob, but fortunately, the study door was slightly ajar.
Cheshire was able to slip inside without any trouble.
Of course, before entering, she didn’t forget to prepare a little bribe for Belzeon.
The study, flooded with afternoon sunlight, felt drowsy and relaxed.
The space, permeated with the distinctive scent of books, exuded a warm ambiance.
Furnished with long sofas and tables, it allowed for comfortable reading at one’s leisure.
Yet, even after checking each chair piled with plush cushions, Belzeon was nowhere to be seen.
After pattering around and searching diligently for some time, she finally spotted her target.
Belzeon was tucked away in a corner of the study.
The nook between the bookshelf and the wall.
The boy, huddled on the cold stone floor, appeared so small.
His posture—knees drawn up and hugged to his chest—seemed infinitely young and vulnerable.
To the extent that it was hard to believe this was the same person who had conducted himself so maturely in the drawing room outside.
‘Is he crying?’
Cheshire tilted her head as she observed him closely.
Belzeon wasn’t crying.
He was simply staring blankly at the floor with dry, vacant eyes.
But that sight troubled her more than if he had been weeping.
It almost seemed better if he just let it all out in sobs.
Cheshire approached with caution.
Deliberately making soft pattering sounds with her feet, Belzeon—who had been fixated on the floor—slowly raised his head.
“…”
Upon spotting Cheshire, he furrowed his brows slightly.
Yet he didn’t shoo her away; he merely glanced at her before turning his gaze aside.
It was a wordless allowance.
Cheshire drew right up in front of Belzeon.
“Hewe.”
Calling him “big brother” still felt too intimate for their current closeness, so she opted for an ambiguous address.
“Let me sit hewe for a bit too.”
As she plopped down beside Belzeon, bottom to the floor, she tacked on a feeble excuse.
“…My wegs huwt.”
She wanted to offer some kind of convincing comfort, but she had no idea what that might be.
So she decided simply to stay by his side.
‘Even Hata liked it when I stayed with him during his nightmares.’
She figured it might be something similar.
Belzeon and Cheshire sat side by side on the stone floor, bottoms planted, for quite a long while.
By the time the cold stone had warmed to a tepid lukewarm from their body heat.
A low voice reached her.
“Karha and Ishuel only stepped in because you now carry the Basilian name. It wasn’t for your sake.”
She had wondered what he might say, but the moment he spoke, it was something prickly.
Belzeon turned to look at Cheshire.
“And I’m someone who doesn’t want you to become a Basilian at all.”
His red eyes drew a firm, unyielding line.
“It means there’s nothing to gain by trying to curry favor with me.”
“What’s cuwwy favow?”
“…”
Cheshire just pretended not to understand.
In any case, it was far too profound a topic for a two-year-old baby to grasp.
To Belzeon, who let out a sigh, she presented the bribe she had prepared.
It was a sprig of lily of the valley, its white bell-shaped blooms dangling delicately.
“Take this.”
After all, the fresh scent of flowers tends to lift anyone’s spirits.
She hoped it might improve Belzeon’s mood, even just a little.
Belzeon regarded the flower with impassive eyes, then reached out and took it.
His gaze, feigning indifference as he looked at the flower, gradually began to quiver faintly.
His jaw tensed rigidly.
It was from gritting his teeth to hold everything in.
His slender, trembling frame stirred pity in her.
After a moment of hesitation, Cheshire carefully brought her hand to his cheek.
The instant her small hand made contact.
A tear plummeted from Belzeon’s eye.
