Ricador was so taken aback that he fell momentarily speechless.
Perhaps realizing that he had been a little too enthusiastic just now, Riscal let out a belated, embarrassed cough.
Then, with quiet but stubborn conviction, he offered his verdict.
“…It was childish, regardless.”
“If you say so.”
Ricador replied with complete indifference.
Riscal carefully set the vision stone he’d been holding down onto the desk. Beneath it, a soft piece of cloth had been laid out as padding.
Ricador clicked his tongue as he watched the vision stone receive such lavish treatment.
“How rustic. Is this the first gift you’ve ever gotten?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“…”
“It’s your first time getting one from someone too, isn’t it? …Or am I wrong?”
Riscal answered shamelessly. Come to think of it, for Ricador it wasn’t exactly a first — but it had been a very, very long time.
Since he had last received a gift given with genuine affection.
The first time he’d come home to the castle with a present from Riersha in hand, he hadn’t been able to unwrap it for a while. He’d just stood there, staring at it.
Gifts arrived constantly under the name of the Arachrene family’s heir — enough to fill a storehouse to the brim — but this was different.
Even if neither of them would admit it, both brothers were currently keeping the gifts Riersha had given them in their respective castles, treating them like treasures.
“…What are you planning to do for Riersha’s birthday? It’s next month now.”
“What about you, hyung?”
Riersha’s birthday was approaching.
By all rights, it should have been a day shadowed by grief — the anniversary of their mother’s death. But this time, it would be something different. Something more special.
“I still haven’t even managed to say sorry to her.”
Riscal murmured quietly.
The day he had stormed to Risideon’s castle and screamed at Riersha that their family falling apart was entirely her fault. And yet it had been Riersha who apologized — Riersha who had said she was sorry.
That memory had never stopped nagging at him. She must have been wounded too, and yet she’d brushed past it as though nothing had happened. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.
And I need to thank her for bringing hyung back.
If he had been the one to go instead, things might not have turned out the same way. This was only possible because it had been Riersha.
“Compared to what Grandfather and Father are preparing, ours will probably look humble. Do you think Riersha will actually like it?”
“Who knows. You think she bought those vision stones because she had money lying around?”
“…”
“She borrowed everything to buy them.”
“She borrowed money from Father?”
Riscal frowned like the idea made no sense. No matter how he thought about it, borrowing money to buy a birthday gift for someone felt a bit much.
“It’s a figure of speech.”
“…So what are you really going to do for her, hyung?”
“I don’t know yet. Grandfather seems to be thinking about granting Riersha her own castle this time. As for me…”
Ricador let the sentence die deliberately.
Riscal, who had been listening intently, shifted restlessly.
“Why do you always stop mid-sentence?”
“Because it’s a secret. Would you tell me if it were yours?”
Riscal scoffed and turned his head back to where it had been.
When the conversation fell quiet again, Riscal sank into thought.
Arcmund was pouring his entire soul into making sure Riersha had the perfect debut on her birthday. And their father — without a doubt — was preparing something extraordinary. From what Riscal had heard, their father had even assigned a budget manager just for Riersha’s birthday gift.
Hyung already seems to have something in mind too. So what should I do for her?
He was just heaving a sigh when — the door burst open and Riersha appeared.
In one hand, two sheets of paper fluttered and waved.
“Riscal oppa, Ricador oppa!”
“Riersha? …What’s that in your hand?”
“Consenth formth!”
Ricador pointed curiously at what she was holding and asked, and Riersha announced it clearly, if with a slight lisp on the words.
She walked up to both of them and handed each a sheet of paper.
Ricador silently accepted what she placed in his hands and stared down at it with an expression of utter bewilderment.
“…A treasure hunt prior consent form?”
She hadn’t been around the last few times he’d visited — apparently because she’d been busy preparing this.
“Yep, that’th right. I wanna play in the foreth with oppa too. With everyone.”
“…The forest? If you mean the forest…”
Ricador and Riscal looked at each other at exactly the same moment, both wearing the same wide-eyed expression.
It seemed to be exactly the “game” they were thinking of.
Both of them fidgeted and looked back down at the consent form.
The “battle game” involved using real abilities — and if things got out of hand, you could easily go flying and get slammed into a tree.
Imagining Riersha joining in on that kind of game, the two brothers fell silent.
“Yep. But Appa thaid if I wanna play, I hafta get oppa’th permithion firtht.”
Riersha explained in a small, dejected voice, her expression the picture of wounded grievance.
The moment both brothers heard that, they understood the situation completely.
Pernoa had found it too difficult to refuse Riersha directly, and so he had passed the burden of responsibility squarely onto them.
Father…!
He pawned this off on us…!
The instant this consent form made its way back to Pernoa, they would be facing those cold, sharp red eyes.
“I’d like to say yes, but Riersha, you’re…”
Ricador began awkwardly, running his gaze up and down Riersha.
The top of her head barely reached his waist. Her baby fat hadn’t faded yet. Her arms and legs were round and soft.
Even if she threw herself into the fray with a body like that… she would simply be hopelessly outmatched.
“…I think it would be really hard for you.”
When Ricador finally let his refusal show, Riersha’s face crumpled.
“I wanna do the treathure hunt too. I even prepared all the treathureth mythelf…”
Riscal’s head snapped up at those softly muttered words.
“You prepared the treasures yourself?”
“Mm-hm. Thith many.”
Riersha spread her arms as wide as they would go.
An enormous amount.
And yet all those treasures she had spent days preparing were now on the verge of going to waste.
“Is that why you weren’t in your villa every time I came to find you?”
“Yeah…”
Seeing the gloom that settled over Riersha, both Ricador and Riscal felt their resolve shake violently.
“I wanna make a with too. …After winning.”
And then that last murmured line reached Riscal, and his head shot up.
That’s it.
Whoever won the “battle game” received a wish at the end.
If I give her that wish, I can finally make things right between us.
As if in a trance, Riscal pressed his mana into the consent form and signed it. Ricador watched him do it, making a sound of protest — “Hey, wait—” — before turning his head away with an uncomfortable expression. Riersha was looking up at him with eyes full of earnest longing.
“Oppa…”
In the end…
“Ugh, fine, I don’t care anymore.”
Ricador signed it in one swift stroke and then asked in a tone of complete resignation:
“Did you already get Risideon hyung’s signature?”
⁂
Pernoa sat at a slight angle, looking down at the consent forms.
He turned the pages one by one, and then his gaze slowly drifted toward a particular spot in the room.
“Three forms. Exactly.”
“…”
“I don’t know how you managed it, but you did.”
Risideon flinched and looked away.
The hand resting neatly on his knee slowly began to curl inward.
His throat bobbed with anxiety. He wet his lips. And then Risideon’s mind drifted back to what had happened the night before.
All three of them had descended on his castle in a pack, speaking on Riersha’s behalf, and asked him to sign the “prior consent form.”
“Hyung! It’s not fair that only Riersha can’t participate.”
“Exactly. …And apparently there are prizes too. She prepared them herself. If they all go to waste like this, that’s a bit too cruel, don’t you think?”
Those were Riscal’s words, and then Ricador’s, in turn.
I shouldn’t have given in.
Risideon closed his eyes briefly, remembering last night. In the end, all the sharp, accusing stares had been directed squarely at him.
But what was done was done. In the end, Risideon had been swept along by everyone around him and had let his hand be guided to the form.
Particularly, the thought that somewhere among the treasures hidden in that forest, there might be something that only Arcmund or Pernoa had — something special, something unique — had made his hand reach out without any resistance.
“I’m sorry, Father.”
In the end, Risideon bowed his head.
