[My brother was beaten by our father every day. Not a single day was skipped.]

“You too?”

[No, I was never hit. I got this wound because I couldn’t stand him being beaten and tried to shield him....]

Once the boy started, the words kept coming.

Unlike Sier, who had been frail since childhood, Arsian had been caned by his father at the same hour every day from the age of five.

There was only one reason.

[He said there’s no other way to become the master of the Guardian.]

Hatred, resentment, blame.

Only by stacking those emotions, brick on brick, could one become a Guardian’s master.

And the final trial those children, raised that way, had to pass.

[I was locked up for three months.]

‘If you want to live, kill.’

Kill the one closest to you. Etch that death clearly into your eyes.

A horrific test—shut them in a dark, narrow space and do not let them out until one person survives.

[My brother wasn’t released until after I died.]

Wow. A lunatic family. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

‘I have nothing to say.’

That was Camilla’s verdict after hearing the gist. Sephra was a mad house.

‘So every single person who rose to headship in this line was raised like that to become a Guardian’s master.’

How is that even a thing?

Only then did she understand why the Sier in front of her looked so scrawny and pitiable.

Camilla shook out the cookies she’d brought and kept feeding the child with earnest focus.

****

Because of that, to be honest, coming here felt awkward.

‘I only need to discuss the business and part cleanly, is all.’

But Sier lingering at Arsian’s side—thinking that child would be facing the father who drove him to death tugged at her a little.

‘And yet...’

What on earth was that supposed to be.

The moment they stepped into the study, Sier, who had been at Arsian’s side, scurried over to the Duke of Sephra.

When he reached out toward his father, she figured it was resentment and hate—that he might go for the man’s throat.

She didn’t even feel like stopping him. For the man who drove him to death, that much was fair.

But what Sier did next left Camilla at a loss.

Instead of choking the Duke’s neck, Sier wrapped him tight and began to sniffle with a sorrowful face.

‘I truly, truly do not want to meddle in other people’s family affairs.’

I really intended to make the contract and leave cleanly, but this itch—I can’t hold it back.

“Why is he doing that?”

Why are you crying, Sier?

For the first time, emotion showed on the Duke of Sephra’s face at Camilla’s words.

“Sier, you say?”

“Sier is crying?”

A moment later, both questions came at once. Camilla gave a small nod.

Both men already knew where Sier was standing even before Camilla spoke.

Only, Arsian believed Sier resented the Duke and hovered around him; the Duke of Sephra had no idea the black smoke was Sier at all.

Black smoke like that—dead souls lingering—was nothing unusual around here.

“Truly, Sier?”

The Duke’s gaze wavered. Only for an instant.

He returned at once to his indifferent look and stared quietly at where Sier was.

“Is that all?”

Arsian asked softly as he watched him.

“You have nothing to say?”

“Nothing.”

Bang!

He slammed the table hard.

“Truly nothing?”

“...”

“Truly nothing?!”

CRASH!

A corner of the table finally caved in.

“Your son whom you killed is standing before you, and you truly have nothing to say?”

“Must I?”

“Ha!”

Arsian stepped forward, fist clenched. He looked ready to throw a punch at the Duke of Sephra any second.

“Wait.”

Camilla caught his arm.

“Let go.”

The low voice that came back was chilling, but Camilla couldn’t release him.

“I don’t intend to butt into your family fight. But...”

Camilla looked again toward the Duke of Sephra.

“Can’t you see?”

“...”

“Sier is blocking you.”

Arms spread wide, he was using his whole body to shield the Duke. Tears brimmed in the boy’s eyes.

[I’m sorry, Brother. I’m sorry.]

From his small mouth, the words I’m sorry kept spilling out.

“He says he’s sorry.”

Ugh, interpreter again.

“Why are you sorry!”

Arsian ground his teeth at the Duke. He couldn’t fathom why the boy would shield that kind of man.

[I—I...]

The tears pooled deeper in the boy’s eyes.

[I said I would do it. I... I said I would go into the cellar.]

‘What?’

Camilla, mid-translation, stopped.

‘What is he saying? He volunteered to go into that kind of place? I didn’t mishear, did I?’

Even having heard it with her own ears, she couldn’t believe it.

[It wasn’t Father. I...]

“What are you talking about.”

Arsian was the same.

Hearing Sier’s words via Camilla, he sent an even fiercer, hate-filled glare at the Duke of Sephra.

He assumed the child was lying to shield his father.

[I knew. That I had only a few months left to live.]

What followed drove everyone present into a heavier silence.

[I heard it.]

A conversation between father and physician.

‘At most, half a year.’

‘...’

‘If it’s short, three or four months... I’m sorry.’

Sier had overheard it by chance—and took it more calmly than one would think.

A child who ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) had spent more days in bed than out of it had, to a degree, already accepted his death as natural.

‘Ugh.’

I hate tearjerkers.

Camilla kept sighing. A tiny kid, and—how can a child speak so calmly about his own death?

[So for the last trial, I said I would go first.]

“...”

[Because I wanted my brother to become head.]

He thought, if his death could bring his brother a little faster, a little closer to headship, that would be good.

He had watched, since he was small, his brother suffer.

After all that time enduring, what if, when he finally died of illness, his brother couldn’t take the last trial?

And so couldn’t become head?

[I didn’t want to make all the time my brother endured meaningless.]

Of course his death would hurt and grieve his brother terribly, but knowing that emotion, too, would factor into the Guardian’s choice, he didn’t hesitate.

At most, half a year, they said. If that was it, he wanted his death to help his brother, even a little.

‘Truly a lunatic house.’

Not just the head—a whole brood of lunatics!

Camilla was dumbfounded.

At seven years old you thought that? Is that even possible? At the age when you should be sucking candy—this is possible?

“...”

Camilla wasn’t the only one at a loss for words. Arsian, too, said nothing, staring blankly at where Sier was.

“You...”

[I’m sorry, Brother.]

“What are you even...!”

[I’m truly sorry.]

‘I’m sorry, Brother.’

He had heard it countless times while trapped in the cellar. At the final moment the boy died, he had said it then, too.

So that’s what it meant?

“Sier.”

[My death wasn’t Father’s fault.]

Sier, before anyone noticed, was facing the Duke of Sephra again.

He gently held the man’s hand, which still showed no emotion whatsoever.

[Father.]

When Arsian had been released from the cellar, he had raged that he would kill him and hurled himself at his father like a madman.

It was a foolish attempt. With a single clash, Arsian collapsed unconscious.

Even healthy, he wouldn’t have been a match—and much less then...

After that, the Duke of Sephra went alone to the cellar and took care of Sier’s body.

[I saw Father cry for the first time.]

There was no sound. No expression either. Only, indifferently, tears had fallen from his eyes, drop by drop.

“...I was tired of it.”

The Duke let out a short sigh.

“Of everything.”

The child’s death, the disgusting headship, the wretched Guardian—he was tired of all of it. That tangle of feelings had only been discharged as tears.

“There’s no other meaning.”

He didn’t grant himself the right to shed tears over the child’s death.

“Only then did I understand.”

Why the previous head had begged so desperately to be killed so quickly. Why he had craved death from me so badly.

I am the same. I want to get free of this accursed seat even one day sooner.

“The Guardian of House Sephra is always found in the same place.”

The Duke fixed his eyes on Arsian’s tightly sealed face.

“In the head’s body.”

“—!”

“You have to cut open the head’s body to find the egg.”

Never once taking his eyes off the frozen Arsian, the Duke continued.

“The most useless thing in this house is emotion. The reason you were beaten from childhood and the reason you watched your brother die—both were to erase useless emotion. The only things required are resentment of me, anger... and the hatred that you will kill me. That’s all.”

Kill me and pull the egg out. That is what you are to do.

With that, the Duke rose from his seat.

Sier was still on the verge of tears, and Arsian stared holes through his father with clenched jaw.

“Wow...”

I want to go home. For real.

Watching the whole thing from the side, Camilla screamed inside.

I do not want to spend another second in this kind of household!

Chapter. His Choice

“Brother.”

“What.”

In a private lab inside the Duke of Sorpel’s manor, Ravi frowned at the someone who cracked the door and peeked in. It was Camilla.

This brat, who never set foot in here, suddenly—why now?

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t you see?”

What a prickly man.

Camilla grumbled under her breath and stepped inside.

“What is it?”

“Do I need a reason to come? Between us?”

“What are you talking about?”

At his prickly tone, she pouted, and Ravi sighed and set down the research notes in his hand.

“Did something happen?”

“No.”

“Truly nothing?”

“Mm.”

At her slight nod, Ravi clicked his tongue, then immediately picked the papers back up.

His face said he was thoroughly annoyed at having his time stolen, even for a moment, by something useless.

Camilla sat off to the side and watched him in silence.

“Brother.”

“What?”

Ravi’s voice came without him even sparing her a glance.

“What kind of man is our father?”

“What are you talking about?”