IDIBC Chapter 36

Chaplin’s Turquoise Eyes

“That feeling… I don’t want you to experience it.”

So why…? I always asked you for reasons, but you never once answered me.

Despite the fact that you actually worry about me a lot and always save me at great risk, I don’t press you either.

Because there’s actually nothing left between us. And because it was right for there to be nothing.

Yet I can’t even look away from Ricardo for a moment, let alone dislike him. If you don’t want to experience this kind of feeling, would you understand me?

I clasped my hands tightly on my lap. Only then did I realize I was still gripping the yellow rose as if clutching a rope dangling from a cliff.

“What do you mean by ‘a crown prince who will soon die’? Do you mean he’ll really pass away?”

He, who had been readily answering my questions until now, fell silent for a moment. Then he cast his gaze toward the window, where clearly nothing could be seen.

“It’s the curse of the imperial family.”

His deeply sunken voice felt like a warning not to ask further, so I didn’t mention it again.

“But, are we really… going to?”

“…What?”

“Get engaged.”

The carriage rattled along the rain-soaked road. The rain had become a downpour, making the interior of the carriage feel even more desolate.

Ricardo didn’t readily answer this time either. Like someone who desperately didn’t want to get engaged.

“How did you know? Powers are something only the imperial family and ducal houses can know about.”

“Ah…”

How do I know? Ironically, this had always been a great mystery to me.

When the founding emperor Wesley Schneider established the Dermeier Empire, there were three families that helped with the founding.

Those were Chaplin, Paquin, and Rochester.

According to legend, after the empire was founded, the emperor gave them the title of duke, and God bestowed powers upon the three families. Those powers had kept their strength firmly maintained for a long thousand years.

Naturally, secrets about that power, the source of their influence, had been thoroughly kept. This was precisely why the three families secretly helped each other.

For the monopoly of power, and paradoxically, for the balance of power that had been maintained tautly between the imperial family and the three families.

So it always bewildered me too.

Why did I, who didn’t even live in the Dermeier Empire, know all those secrets?

“When I was young, exactly when I was 10 years old, I died once.”

Since lies were useless before Ricardo, I honestly laid out what had happened to me. Strangely enough, the memory from that time didn’t feel like my own.

“You… died?”

“Yes, I’m certain of it. That feeling is hard to express in other words.”

Of course, my knowing about the imperial family and ducal houses didn’t mean I knew their every move.

What I knew was just the broad framework.

Like a genealogy written in a dusty book of some family.

Superficial content like who was born at what age, who they married, and who they gave birth to.

The family genealogy didn’t contain anything about how those people lived, how they loved, or what they lived and died for. My memory was exactly like that.

“It was a night when lightning struck, and it just came to me then. As naturally as legs touching the ground make you walk automatically.”

Until now, I had lived without even being aware that I knew that fact.

They were people thoroughly unrelated to me.

“Is that all?”

As if that was all there was.

I subtly averted my eyes from Ricardo.

Stories about other people felt indifferent to me. Enough to have already been forgotten unless it was something very impressive.

However, I didn’t want to confess everything to him. Things like how all the events Ricardo had to endure hurt me as if they were happening to me, so much that I couldn’t bear it.

“Yes.”

Even at my clearly false answer, he didn’t interrogate me. When I glanced up, his black eyes held a complex light.

Of course, it was partly true. Even if I came to know the secrets of those existing in a novel, it was natural that it wouldn’t carry any meaning in my life.

Besides, I had been fine until I met Ricardo again.

“As if someone had read me a book. A man with beautiful turquoise eyes dominates space, and a man with splendid red hair dominates others’ memories. Something like that.”

Ricardo just stared at my eyes without asking if it was true. The fact that he had absolutely no reason to interrogate others felt somewhat comfortable now.

“What about Stuart?”

“Who is that…?”

“The ambitious crown prince who will soon die. Do you happen to know his ability too?”

I shook my head.

“I know he has an ability, but I don’t know exactly what kind of power it is. Ah, of course I don’t want to know either.”

Ricardo chuckled and leaned forward toward me. His face, suddenly drawing close, examined my face feature by feature.

“But why did you… die back then?”

How many people in the world have been asked such a question? I reflexively pulled back from him. He just stared piercingly at my face without showing any particular expression.

“Probably because… I was cold and… hungry?”

Like someone who didn’t know what cold and hungry meant, Ricardo’s brow furrowed.

“Can a person die for such reasons?”

“A frog really doesn’t remember being a tadpole.”

Ricardo looked at me as if asking what I meant, but I didn’t particularly answer. I didn’t want to fill the space where memories had disappeared with such miserable content.

While briefly recalling my childhood, Ricardo reached out his hand. When I flinched and pulled in my neck, he hesitated.

But Ricardo soon moved slowly with a gentle face. At the expression I was seeing for the first time, my gaze lingered unknowingly. Soon his large hand patted my head gently.

‘Huh?’

Then the way he stroked smoothly overlapped completely with him from childhood. Ricardo back then always acted as if he were more adult than me. Just like now.

“It must have been very difficult.”

Ah, do tears come when you receive comfort? I thought I was fine, but perhaps not entirely? At the tingling feeling at the tip of my nose, I pulled away from him and spoke gruffly for no reason.

“Don’t do that. You’ll mess up my hair.”

Though Ricardo would have no memory of it, our childhood was unbearably cold. And we were unbelievably often hungry. Of course, after Countess Fennel sent maids to the east building and looked after us, things improved a lot.

Back then, we endured with each other’s warmth. There really were such days.

“But do you really… think so?”

Ricardo’s voice penetrated back into my thoughts. His voice, somehow feeling suggestive, naturally aroused wariness.

“Think what…?”

“That Chaplin’s turquoise eyes are beautiful.”

“Yes, really. They were so mysterious I could keep looking at them. Like a lake, or like a forest.”

I briefly recalled the young Duke Chaplin’s eyes. His eyes had a power to captivate people, so much so that I couldn’t remember his hair color.

“They were much more beautiful eyes than I’d imagined.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So he’s a handsome man too?”

Ricardo leaned his body back leisurely and crossed his legs. My gaze was naturally drawn to his fluid, natural movements.

“Of course, if you’re judging by looks, Young Duke Paquin is more dazzling. Not that I’m in any position to evaluate others’ appearances. Young Duke Chaplin is, how should I say, a bit…”

The type with clear lines, like a priest who’s hard to approach?

Just then, with a jolt, the light inside the carriage shook, perhaps as we entered rough road. Because of it, the shadows on Ricardo’s face swayed uneasily. When he swept back hair that hadn’t even fallen down, his forehead was revealed brilliantly. Even though it was clearly a meaningless action, my heart trembled.

I continued speaking while lowering my gaze that wouldn’t easily fall away.

“Anyway… it was hard to look away.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Seeing him raise one eyebrow, something seemed displeasing again. As if to let me know my feeling wasn’t mistaken, his voice sank a bit lower than before.

“But for what reason did you come to Count Enehaz’s ball? Without any fear?”

“I was running an errand…”

“An errand?”

“Yes, the duchess had something she wanted me to deliver. To you, my lord.”

He nodded with a knowing face. Then he soon pointed with his chin at the yellow rose I was still holding.

“While carrying a yellow rose?”

It wasn’t particularly a questioning tone. It was closer to a scolding asking what I was doing picking up and carrying around such a thing. Because of that, an excuse burst out.

“This isn’t mine. Some young lady dropped it and I picked it up. I was trying to return it…”

Before I could even finish speaking, he snatched the rose from me, opened the window and threw the flower out. The wind wet his cuff slightly with rainwater. Just what exactly was that yellow rose!

“Right, that must be it. If there’s a bastard who gave this to you to pin on your chest, that bastard would die by my hands.”

“…”

“Aren’t you going to ask why?”

“I have some sense too. Young Duke Chaplin’s attitude earlier was also a bit like that.”

At those words, Ricardo tilted his head with fierce eyes.