MTO C103
by berryChapter 103
“As Kaidan said… my children, and I as well, are residents of Valois.”
The moment Michel spoke, Kaidan gave a resigned nod.
It seemed he had already convinced himself that Michel had come to condemn him.
Suddenly—
Bang!
Michel slammed both hands onto the desk and shot to his feet.
Startled, Kaidan looked up.
Meeting his eyes head-on, Michel succeeded in capturing his full attention.
“You know…”
“I want the land where my children live to remain peaceful.”
“……”
“So if every act of hypocrisy you put on is for the sake of Valois…”
“Then from now on, I’ll stand on your side.”
For an instant, the black lake reflected in Michel’s eyes rippled.
Still holding Kaidan’s gaze, Michel broke into a bright smile.
“Keep using me for Valois.”
“If it’s for Valois…”
“I’ll always be on your side.”
Michel had no desire to reproach Kaidan for his hesitation at the banquet.
No matter that he was Lord of Valois, and the children were also his people—
As the host of the banquet, Kaidan’s conduct had been appropriate.
Had he openly taken the children’s side from the very beginning, it would surely have caused far greater problems later.
If anyone had acted recklessly…
It had been Michel himself.
But looking back now…
He realized he had unconsciously believed something all along.
That no matter what kind of trouble he caused…
Kaidan would clean up after him.
“If something goes wrong, I’ll take care of it somehow, so don’t worry too much. Tonight’s banquet is for you. Just enjoy yourself.”
Because Kaidan had made him that promise…
Michel had been able to protect Charlotte.
Before Michel had stood beside the children—
Kaidan had already chosen to stand beside Michel.
And so…
Now it was Michel’s turn to stand beside him.
“Promise me.”
To show how serious he was, Michel held out his little finger.
Yet Kaidan only stared blankly at it instead of hooking his own around it.
…Does he not know how pinky promises work?
Michel wiggled his finger in front of Kaidan’s face as if to say, Take it.
At that very moment—
Kaidan’s expression twisted violently.
“Ah—!”
Instead of taking his finger…
He seized Michel’s entire hand.
Instinctively, Michel tried to pull away.
Kaidan refused to let go.
The chair scraped harshly across the floor as Kaidan rose.
With surprising force, he pulled Michel toward him.
“K-Kaidan!”
“How…”
Kaidan’s voice trembled.
“How can you be so strong?”
“What?”
“Is it because you’re one chosen by God?”
“Are all Saints like you?”
“I… I don’t understand.”
“Wait…”
“You’re so strong…”
“And because of that… I keep…”
When Michel tried to retreat, Kaidan simply caught him by the shoulders.
Several self-defense techniques flashed through Michel’s mind.
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to use any of them.
Unlike the composed man who had quietly recounted his past only moments ago…
Kaidan now looked utterly pained.
“Michel.”
The low murmur captured every one of Michel’s senses.
Hearing his own name spoken felt strangely unfamiliar—
Yet his heart responded with violent force.
Had he become intoxicated merely from breathing in the scent of Kaidan’s wine?
A peculiar ticklish sensation fluttered through his lower abdomen, as though tiny wings brushed against him.
He felt he shouldn’t look at Kaidan.
Yet he couldn’t look away.
Without blinking once…
Michel watched Kaidan’s face slowly draw nearer.
Those black eyes he had thought empty…
Had in truth been quietly smoldering all along.
At last—
Warm breath brushed the tip of his nose.
Knock. Knock.
The soft rap upon the door shattered the haze clouding Michel’s mind.
Without thinking, he twisted his body free of Kaidan’s grasp.
Almost instinctively—
He flipped Kaidan forward and pinned him against the desk.
“Urgh!”
“Ah!”
Michel froze.
Only then did he realize what he had done.
“H-हे—are you alright?”
He hurriedly released him.
Yet Kaidan remained slumped over the desk without lifting his head.
D-Did I knock him unconscious?
Panic seized Michel.
He cautiously placed a hand upon Kaidan’s back.
The next instant—
Kaidan sprang upright like a toy that had righted itself.
Perhaps because blood had rushed to his head while bent over the desk—
His face was as crimson as the spilled wine staining the wood beneath him.
“K-Kaidan…”
“Come in!”
Without looking at Michel, Kaidan barked toward the door.
Lawrence entered the study.
The butler’s eyes immediately took in the overturned wineglass on the floor…
And the two men whose faces were flushed scarlet.
His brows drew together for the briefest moment.
Then, as though nothing at all were amiss, he bowed respectfully.
“Your Grace.”
“Viscount Casenail requests an audience with the Saint.”
“What?”
“He wishes to apologize once more for what occurred during the banquet.”
Both Kaidan and Michel frowned simultaneously.
Hadn’t he apologized enough already?
Only a few hours ago, Viscount Casenail had even knelt before Charlotte to beg forgiveness.
Michel had wanted nothing more than a sincere apology.
He had never imagined the Viscount would go so far.
Nobles, it seemed, could neither praise nor apologize without making an extravagant spectacle of it.
Kaidan clicked his tongue softly.
“I’ll go.”
“No.”
Michel stepped in front of him.
“I’ll go.”
“He asked to see me, didn’t he?”
“You should get some rest.”
Truthfully, Michel had no wish to see the Viscount again.
Still…
He wasn’t cold-hearted enough to ignore someone who genuinely wished to apologize.
Besides…
Kaidan hardly looked fit to receive guests.
…He really is drunk.
Michel cast a meaningful glance toward Kaidan’s silver waistcoat, now hanging completely open.
Only then did Kaidan seem to notice the state of his own appearance.
He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I’ll assign knights to escort you.”
“Thank you.”
Michel bowed deeply before quickly making for the door.
Nothing had happened between them.
And yet…
He somehow felt that staying any longer would be dangerous.
Especially after Lawrence, without asking a single question, calmly remarked that he would fetch a maid to clean the spilled wine.
It was unbearably embarrassing.
Even so…
When he reached the doorway, Michel hesitated.
“Um… Kaidan.”
“…?”
“Thank you…”
“For telling me everything tonight.”
“I’m really glad we talked.”
Had Kaidan never revealed his true feelings…
Michel might never have realized the mistake he himself had made.
Reflecting upon one’s own mistakes was painful.
Embarrassing.
But it was also the only way to become a better person.
Kaidan paused halfway through removing his waistcoat.
He simply looked at Michel.
Countless emotions flickered across his face.
Yet Michel could not decipher a single one.
Not understanding another person’s heart was only natural.
Even so…
He found himself strangely disappointed.
He desperately wanted to know…
What Kaidan was thinking as he looked at him now.
Michel stared stubbornly at those lips that refused to move.
Kaidan was no different.
He looked back at Michel without blinking.
As though…
Nothing else in the world existed.
Crash!
“S-Sorry!”
Their silent contest of gazes ended abruptly.
Lawrence hurriedly picked up the goblet rolling across the floor.
He had accidentally dropped it again while trying to clean it up.
Since Lawrence rarely made mistakes, he looked unusually flustered.
Michel rubbed the bridge of his nose for no reason at all.
“Then…”
“Good night!”
The instant he offered his farewell, Michel slipped out of the study.
Perhaps because he had left in such haste…
Both cheeks burned with heat.
His entire body felt strangely restless.
Once he finished meeting with Viscount Casenail…
Perhaps he ought to run several laps around the training grounds.
He had neglected his personal training lately while focusing on preparing the children’s performance.
Right.
Tonight…
He would run until he collapsed.
Michel renewed his resolve—
Completely unaware that Lawrence, following behind him, watched him with an extraordinarily complicated expression.
Viscount Casenail paced anxiously around the reception room.
The butler had served him tea and politely asked him to wait.
He had been utterly incapable of remaining seated.
“You’re telling me…”
“You didn’t see the mark that appeared on the Saint’s forehead either?”
“What on earth are you talking about, Father?”
His daughter stared at him incredulously.
“Have you completely lost your senses?”
After the Saint stormed out of the banquet hall, the other nobles resumed drinking and laughing as though nothing unusual had happened.
Only the Viscount could not.
He stopped everyone he met, asking whether they had seen the mysterious mark upon the Saint’s forehead.
Yet not a single person claimed to have witnessed it.
Instead of sharing his terror…
They looked upon him with contempt—
A noble who had disgraced himself by kneeling before an orphan.
The Viscount was bewildered.
“Please come to your senses!”
His daughter finally burst into tears.
“Do you still not understand how thoroughly you’ve ruined my future today?”
“Not only the Duke…”
“No nobleman will ever agree to marry me now!”
Only then…
Did realization strike him.
He had been deceived.
There had never been a true Saint in that hall.
Everything he witnessed…
Must have been nothing more than an elaborate performance staged by the Saint and the Duke.
Otherwise…
Why had no one else seen what he had?
Perhaps—
Just as he himself had attempted to drug the Duke’s wine—
Someone had slipped something into his own glass beforehand.
No.
That had to be it.
The instant he convinced himself of that truth…
Rage consumed him.
By kneeling before an orphan today…
He had ruined far more than his daughter’s prospects.
Following the incident, one noble after another declined invitations to the upcoming Casenail family banquet.
That banquet had also been meant to attract investors for the Viscount’s ambitious new shipping enterprise.
Instead…
The nobles poured their wealth into House Eglance’s newly rising relief projects, abandoning the sinking ship that was House Casenail.
He could not allow this to end here.
He wanted nothing more than to expose the vile conspiracy between Duke Eglance and Saint Michel.
Unfortunately…
He possessed no proof.
Even if some nobles believed him…
They would ultimately side with the Duke for their own benefit.
The young Duke was a national hero.
And the Saint of Valois was a rising divine figure.
Therefore…
The Saint had to be dragged down from his sacred pedestal first.
The moment Saint Michel’s name was stained…
The prestige of House Eglance would inevitably crumble alongside it.
And when he stepped forward to reveal their wicked deception…
The nobles would surely return to his side.
Fortunately…
He possessed the perfect instrument with which to desecrate Saint Michel’s holiness.
Again and again, the Viscount pressed a hand against his chest, reassuring himself that the small box concealed within his robes remained safely in place.
How long had he waited?
After what felt like an eternity of unbearable anticipation…
At last…
The impostor appeared.