An Unexpected Proposal-Chapter 61

And yet, he didn’t hate it.

Surrounded by this mundane simplicity, the sharp edge of his instincts dulled. Everything began to feel… ordinary.

‘If I had been just a commoner…’

It was an impossible thought. But no matter how many times he pushed it away, it kept returning.

If he had never been Cabelenus von Blanche Schwarhan, if that had never happened… how different would everything be?

"Hey, can I hold your sword?"

A bright voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Cabelenus narrowed his eyes at the boy, who was now breathing evenly.

"No."

"Can’t you at least think about it before saying no?"

Mikael puffed out his cheeks like an angry pufferfish. It’s just a sword, what’s the big deal?

"There’s nothing to think about."

"Why not?"

"Don’t get attached to swords. Nothing good comes from wielding one."

"Why not? Swords are cool."

Mikael pouted, his eyes already fixed on the weapon at Cabelenus’s waist.

"Thinking swords are ‘cool’… That’s such a childish way to see things."

"What did you say?"

"Don’t have foolish fantasies. A sword isn’t cool—it’s just a weapon."

Cabelenus’s hand instinctively moved to cover the hilt. He had only planned to train Mikael’s body, never to actually teach him how to wield a sword.

"I know a sword is a weapon."

"Swords exist to kill."

"I know that too."

Mikael sprang to his feet, staring straight at Cabelenus. The boy didn’t know how to back down.

"My dream is to be a knight. There’s no way I wouldn’t know that."

"A knight?"

"Yeah! A knight! A really strong one!"

Mikael’s little shoulders tensed.

"I’ll wear shining armor and wield a sharp sword to defeat all my enemies. Isn’t that amazing?"

"Not in the slightest."

"You have no idea what’s cool, do you?"

Mikael clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"I’m not the one who doesn’t understand. You are."

Cabelenus held out his hand. Mikael eyed it warily, his expression skeptical.

"Why are you showing me your hand all of a sudden?"

Grumbling, Mikael grabbed Cabelenus’s hand, thinking he was being offered help up.

But the moment he did, Cabelenus’s face twisted in visible displeasure.

"Why are you grabbing it?"

"Didn’t you hold it out for me to get up?"

Mikael quickly let go, frowning. It wasn’t like touching his hand would wear it out—why was he acting like it was so disgusting? That reaction irritated him even more.

"I didn’t say to grab it. I said to look at it."

"And why would I look at your hand? Your hands are ugly."

Mikael stuck out his tongue, teasing.

"If you wield a sword, your hands will look just like this."

"Swords made your hands like that?"

"Yes."

The tiny tongue disappeared back into his mouth. Mikael frowned as if he were the one in pain. His voice lowered.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

"Really?"

Mikael perked up slightly. But Cabelenus didn’t let him enjoy that for long.

"It hurt a lot getting to this point, though."

"…For real?"

Mikael’s lips quivered, fear creeping into his expression.

"I wouldn’t lie about this."

"That’s not good… I hate pain."

"The soreness you feel from swinging a stick is nothing compared to this. I’ve had my flesh torn open and bled countless times."

"Ugh, no thanks."

Mikael recoiled, horrified. The lingering ache from his earlier exercises was already unbearable. He couldn’t even imagine enduring something worse.

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"Anyone who takes up the sword has to get used to it. And not just injuries—wielding a sword can get you killed."

Cabelenus’s gaze darkened.

As a war hero, it was ironic for him to say so, but war was something better left unknown.

People who rushed onto the battlefield with half-baked ideals ended up with only one thing—death.

"Then I just have to get strong enough not to die. Strong people don’t die, right?"

"Everyone dies. And if you die, you’ll never see your mother again."

"…I really wouldn’t like that."

A deep furrow formed on the boy’s round forehead. More than anything, the thought of never seeing his mother again was unbearable.

"If you want to keep seeing your mother, stop thinking nonsense and focus on protecting her. Unless, of course, you want to end up like this."

Cabelenus stared at his own hand, as if seeing it through Mikael’s eyes.

Even Natalie’s healing couldn’t fully erase the damage, leaving behind clear traces of the past.

"Besides, your mother wouldn’t like it if you picked up a sword."

"……."

"You’ve already been scolded, haven’t you?"

Cabelenus tilted his head.

Even without words, Mikael’s sulky, tightly pressed lips told him everything.

"Mom doesn’t like it when I get hurt. She still treats me like a baby."

"She wouldn’t like it if you hurt someone else, either."

"…How do you know that?"

Because she cares about you more than anything.

Cabelenus swallowed the words and withdrew his hand.

"I don’t feel like talking anymore. That’s enough."

"But I still have things to say!"

"If you have so much to say, do it at home. I’m not your nanny."

"……."

Mikael’s shoulders slumped at the unexpected negative response, but Cabelenus’s expression remained unchanged.

Cabelenus was not Alicia. He had no reason to comfort the boy.

"Don’t be disappointed. If there’s no need for you to wield a sword, then there’s no reason to pick one up."

"Then why did you pick up a sword? Did you have a reason?"

"…I made a promise."

"A promise? What kind of promise?"

"Who knows."

There was the faintest flicker in Cabelenus’s eyes. Mikael waited patiently for an answer, but when none came, he eventually sighed and shook his head.

"See? You never tell me anything. This is why I can’t like you."

"Good. I feel the same."

"You’re so mean."

Mikael huffed loudly and flopped back onto the grass. The sky above, clear and vast, was beautiful.

"Then at least tell me this."

"What."

"What kind of person are you?"

Mikael stared directly at Cabelenus. With the sun behind him, all Mikael could see was the gleam of those golden eyes. He was already growing accustomed to them, finding himself staring more often than before.

"What do you mean?"

"I’m just curious. Honestly, you don’t seem like someone who belongs here."

"You’re one to talk."

"I heard the adults whispering. They all said you’re a noble… and that my mom was a runaway mistress."

"Who the hell is spreading that filth?"

Cabelenus growled lowly.

He had already suspected something from what he heard about Peter, but hearing it directly from Mikael’s mouth made it far more infuriating than he had expected.

Insulting Alicia was no different from insulting him.

"So it’s not true?"

"Your mother was never some mistress. She was…"

Cabelenus trailed off, exhaling sharply.

Mikael watched him closely before lacing his fingers together.

"See? I knew it. There’s no way my mom would be like that. I know there’s no one prettier or kinder than my mom."

"……."

"But strangely, hardly anyone likes her. So she’s always fighting with people."

"……."

"I thought you were one of those people too—someone my mom had to fight."

But you weren’t.

Mikael averted his gaze, absently fidgeting with his fingers.

He didn’t love Cabelenus, but he also didn’t hate him.

After all, he had stood up for his mom. He had brought her medicine. And he had promised to make him stronger. That counted for something, didn’t it?

"I’m saying this now, but I still don’t need a dad. I’m too grown up for that."

Mikael lifted his chin proudly.

"Only little kids go around looking for their dads, right?"

"……."

"So what I’m saying now—it’s not for me. It’s for my mom. Got it?"

"What nonsense are you about to spew?"

"Actually, the adults weren’t just talking about that."

Before Mikael could finish his sentence, one of Cabelenus’s brows lifted slightly. His fingers instinctively brushed against the hilt of his sword.

"You’re on my mom’s side, right?"

"Of course."

"And you could protect her until I grow up, right?"

"I’ll protect her no matter what."

"You always talk in the most annoying way."

Mikael scrunched his nose.

"You’re just as bad."

Cabelenus answered without a single change in expression.

"You call me a kid, but why are you so cold to a kid?"

"You said it yourself—you’re already grown up."

"I’m telling Mom on you."

Mikael made a mock-threatening face.

"Go ahead. You’re the one who snuck out, not me."

"How did you know?"

Mikael’s eyes widened like a startled rabbit.

Cabelenus clicked his tongue.

"Because you’re predictable."

"Then why did you train with me?"

"It’s better to keep you where I can see you than let you run around causing trouble for Alicia."

Cabelenus smirked arrogantly, and Mikael’s lips twisted in frustration.

"You just want to hear about Mom. Liar."

"……."

"It’s so obvious, you know. You’re just as predictable as I am."

"You definitely take after someone, but it’s not Alicia."

Cabelenus frowned.

What was it about this boy that bothered him so much?

Mikael’s face was all Alicia’s, but the rest—his mannerisms, his stubbornness—felt foreign.

And that fact grated on him.

Because if Mikael didn’t take after Alicia… then the only other possibility was his father.

Cabelenus clenched his jaw and turned away. If he looked at the boy any longer, he might do something pathetic—like search Mikael’s features for traces of him.

"Hey, mister."

"What."

Cabelenus didn’t even look back as he answered.

Because of that, he didn’t see the hesitation in Mikael’s expression.

"You know… that thing I was going to say earlier."

"Just say it. I hate people who beat around the bush."

"……."

"If you have something to say, say it properly."

Despite his urging, Mikael remained silent.

Cabelenus sighed in frustration and stood up.

But then—

"Are you my father?"

"……."

"Tell me the truth. Are you really my dad?"

This time, the question wavered.

"Where did you hear that?"

"The adults. They said you might be my real father."

"……."

"So I kept wondering. Whether it was true or not."

Cabelenus finally turned around—and his breath caught.

Mikael was smiling as usual. But his hands, clenched tightly together, were trembling.