The Shadow of Self-Doubt
Ariel awoke from a sweet dream to find that Edgar had already vanished. Meanwhile, Silvia, who had been quietly reading a book she must have brought from somewhere, noticed her friend stirring and closed the volume.
“Sleep well?”
“Mm… How long was I out?”
“About four hours? They say dinner will be ready soon.”
Still groggy from sleep, Ariel was far more unguarded than usual. The way she rubbed her eyes made her look exactly like a sleepy kitten, and Silvia watched her with an expression that screamed she was dying of cuteness.
Smiling softly, Silvia rose and moved to sit beside Ariel, gently smoothing her friend’s tousled hair and straightening her rumpled clothes.
“You surprised me earlier, Ariel. I never expected you to handle it like that.”
“…Don’t even mention it. My face is still burning.”
The memory of clinging to Edgar and acting spoiled right before falling asleep remained vivid in her mind. At least she had managed to draw a line with that flimsy excuse; without it, she might have seriously considered ending it all from sheer mortification.
“So, how long does this thing last, anyway?”
“Probably until tomorrow morning?”
“…I just have to pray I don’t run into him before then.”
With a heavy sigh, Ariel surrendered herself to Silvia’s hands as the other girl tidied her hair. What kind of candy has an effect like this? She had assumed the worst of it would fade by dinner at the latest, so the news came as a shock. Still, the fact that she wasn’t blurting out nonsense in front of Silvia suggested the candy’s influence varied depending on the moment. Or perhaps the sheer volume of feelings and unspoken words she had bottled up toward Edgar made it impossible to control around him alone.
Either way, the moment she ate that candy, Ariel’s day had veered far from any peaceful path.
“How did it feel? Confessing to Edgar, I mean.”
“…Don’t ever pull something like that again. I’m seriously angry.”
Ariel shot her friend a frosty glare, looking ready to hurl flames from her fingertips at any second. Silvia offered a wry smile and nodded, readily admitting her fault. What had begun as well-intentioned mischief now struck her, in hindsight, as thoughtless.
“Yeah. Honestly, I regret it too. I’m sorry, Ariel.”
“What? Why are you reflecting so easily? That’s not like you.”
“You know I like teasing, but I hate crossing the line, right?”
“…I suppose.”
Faced with Silvia’s shrug and playful tone, Ariel could only nod. She knew her friend always walked the tightrope with her pranks—never quite crossing into cruelty, yet somehow making the target fume. In a way, Silvia was even more of a mischief genius than Edgar. But today’s stunt had been different. For once, she had shaken someone’s emotions in a way that was both provocative and hard to undo. That alone showed how frustrating it had been to watch the two of them dance around their feelings.
“What’s done is done. If you try it again, friend or not, I’ll blast you with a fireball.”
“Sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“Hmph. How am I supposed to believe that?”
Ariel pouted, making her displeasure obvious. This was classic Silvia—promising “I won’t do it next time” only to pull another prank the very next day. It was the boy-who-cried-wolf all over again.
Yet contrary to Ariel’s doubts, Silvia was genuinely certain this time. There would be no next time. In fact, there might not even be another opportunity.
“Huh? Now that I think about it… where did the candy go?”
The glass jar that had held the sweets was nowhere to be seen on the table or near Silvia’s seat. Ariel voiced her confusion. Surely no one else would have eaten such a bizarre candy, and if anyone had tried, Silvia’s conscience would have stopped them.
“Oh, that? I threw it away. Couldn’t risk someone else picking it up.”
“Good call. If I’d seen it again, I was planning to smash the jar.”
The memory of first eating the candy still lingered, and Ariel ground her teeth, radiating hostility. The intensity made even Silvia’s knees feel weak.
“Next time I’ll bring a proper gift. Look forward to it.”
“…I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“Hehe, just trust me one more time.”
“Ah, fine! Stop clinging to me, you idiot!”
Silvia let out a small cheer as she finally secured another chance, peeling herself away. She hoped that next time she could bring a gift that would earn her friend’s bright smile. With that quiet wish in her heart, she heard that dinner preparations were complete and left the room with Ariel.
After finishing dinner, Edgar headed straight to the study at Yulken’s sudden summons. It had been a while since he last visited, and somehow the room felt different from before.
“I heard you called for me.”
“Don’t stand there so stiffly. Come in.”
“Yes.”
Though circumstances had forced him to be somewhat rude last time, the head of House Robeheim was still someone Edgar could never look down upon. He offered the utmost courtesy in greeting before moving toward the sofa. Yulken, who had been organizing something at his desk, soon approached as well.
“First time here since then?”
“It seems so.”
Yulken gave a wry smile at the boy’s rigid speech and posture. He understood Edgar’s position, just as he understood his own, so asking him to relax would be pointless. Still, there was one request he wanted to make.
“Good grief… I don’t mind, but speak more casually in front of Helene. You have no idea how hurt my wife feels.”
“…I’ll do what I can.”
The request left Edgar in a difficult spot, so he scratched his cheek and gave a noncommittal answer. It made sense—when he was younger, Helene had asked him to, and he could get away with it because he was still a child. But not anymore. Besides, Edgar wasn’t foolish enough to miss how his standing within House Robeheim had been quietly rising. If he appeared too casual with Helene now, the retainers would gossip. Rumors of the grand ducal couple favoring him had already begun to circulate, and he had heard whispers of them recently. Caution was necessary.
“The rumors must be bothering you.”
“Pardon? Ah, well…”
Seeing Edgar avert his gaze, Yulken raised one corner of his mouth in understanding and gave a small nod. He could guess what weighed on the boy’s mind. The title of grand duke wasn’t something one obtained by chance.
“I have ears to hear and eyes to see. Whether I like it or not, I already expected that talk about you would spread even more.”
“……”
When Edgar lowered his head, caught off guard, Yulken burst into hearty laughter. The boy had probably thought that as long as he was careful, everything would be fine. In a way, it was the simplest approach, yet also a naive one. If a wooden branch rolling on the ground had caught fire and he had noticed it, that would have been one thing—but the flames had already spread farther than he realized. Still, was that necessarily a bad thing? At least Yulken didn’t think so.
“I heard about today. The rumors have spread throughout the castle.”
“…I’m sorry for causing such a commotion because of me.”
Despite the sudden change in topic, Edgar calmly bowed his head in apology. It wasn’t entirely his fault, but since he was involved, he figured it was better for him to apologize on behalf of the other two.
“I told you—I have ears. It was because of that medicine or candy or whatever Silvia brought, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I deliberately avoided mentioning it at dinner because I thought you’d feel uncomfortable, but thanks to that, my wife and the retainers have been busy whispering among themselves.”
The grand duchy’s only daughter had suddenly confessed to the man she had always treated like a friend, right in front of everyone. Gossip-loving young maids and servants had spread the story in an instant, and it hadn’t even taken half a day for it to reach the rest of the castle. Some rumors had twisted into tales of magical potions, and everyone was eager to chime in on the romance. One thing was certain: it wouldn’t be easily contained.
But in a way, this might also be the perfect timing. Yulken believed that if there was a way to turn this situation into an opportunity, there was exactly one path forward. That was why he had summoned Edgar today—to ask his intentions.
“Do you still think you’re lacking?”
“You knew?”
“Intense light always casts a shadow. And from what I’ve observed, those standing in that shadow often underestimate themselves.”
In Yulken’s eyes, Edgar wasn’t on the same level as Ariel in terms of talent. His swordsmanship, honed through relentless self-improvement, was commendable, but that was all. Yet that didn’t mean Edgar’s worth as a man was small. Yulken had seen many people who tried to measure a person’s value solely by their individual abilities. In a world where ability proved everything, that method wasn’t necessarily wrong. But Yulken didn’t think it was right, either. Sometimes, a person’s true value shone brightest not when they stood at the forefront, but when they supported and protected others from the side. His own aide, Elpelt, was exactly such a case.
“I don’t know what chains are binding you. Whether it’s guilt over your own shortcomings or an inferiority complex born from the gap between your family and abilities.”
Yulken had a vague sense of it. He knew his daughter’s once one-sided love was gradually becoming mutual. He knew the boy who had always looked at her with playful eyes was slowly changing. And he knew that even though this boy stood closest to his daughter, he couldn’t bring himself to step any closer.
Yet he had never offered advice. After all…
“…You don’t find me pathetic?”
“Pathetic? That’s a funny thing to say. The way you look right now is exactly how I used to be. How could I laugh at that?”
“Pardon?”
The unexpected answer left Edgar blurting out in surprise, but Yulken’s expression remained utterly serious. Looking at the boy reminded him of his own youthful self—the reckless days when he had most passionately wrestled with the feeling called love.
Even with everything in hand, I couldn’t take that step.
The position of heir to House Robeheim. His own reputation. A fortune vast enough to last a lifetime. Despite possessing all of that, he had hesitated to approach the daughter of a lesser house—his pure, clumsy younger self. But now, reflecting on those memories while watching the boy before him, he understood that hesitation had been the right choice.
“You might think I’m being meddlesome at my age, but isn’t that what love is?”
Compared to the one you hold in your heart, you feel endlessly small. No matter how flawless you are in ability, family, wealth, or appearance, you shrink before the one you adore. That was true for both the Yulken of the past and the Edgar of now.
“I didn’t summon you to mock you, nor to scold you for what happened today. I simply wanted to offer advice, man to man.”
“…Does that mean you’re giving your permission?”
“Permission. That’s a different matter altogether.”
Yulken raised an eyebrow with an uncharacteristic playful smile, then stood and walked toward the window. Just like that day, he poured wine into two empty glasses, took one for himself, and returned to hand the other to Edgar.
“It’s not something a father who couldn’t give his precious daughter enough love should say, but I didn’t want to let her go into someone else’s arms.”
“I think every father feels the same.”
“Thank you for understanding. But at the same time, I also thought this.”
Yulken swirled the wine glass in his hand, watching the red liquid ripple along the rim as he continued.
“If my precious daughter must end up in someone’s embrace, then at the very least, I hoped it would be a man who resembles the me from my younger days.”
Someone who deeply pondered his own feelings, who never looked down on the one he cherished, and who could reflect on himself with clear eyes. Yulken wished for a man capable of at least that much to stand by his daughter’s side. For a very long time—long before their relationship had mended enough for him to hold her in his arms again.
Clink.
As Edgar rose while listening quietly to Yulken’s words, a soft sound rang from the buckle at his waist. The sudden movement might have startled Yulken, but the older man merely sipped his wine with a gentle expression.
“You seem to have urgent business.”
“…Yes. It appears I have something I need to attend to right away.”
“I see. By the way, what’s that in your hand?”
When Edgar reached into his coat and a glint of something shiny peeked out, Yulken asked about its identity. Edgar gave a wry smile, opened his palm to reveal a round, pink object, and answered quietly.
“It’s a little prank I always play on your daughter.”
“Don’t tease her too much.”
“I’ll do my best to be considerate.”
With that, Edgar bowed in farewell and left the study. This gamble wasn’t like him, but there was no established path for doing something for the very first time in his life.
Still, there’s so much I don’t know.
What the candy Ariel ate truly did, whether the sweet words she whispered in his ear were genuine, and why she had always smiled at him until now—everything remained shrouded in darkness for him. Yet there were two things he knew for certain.
A dishonest, childish young lady.
As far as he remembered, Ariel Robeheim had always been a clumsy girl who couldn’t be honest and was quick to snap. And she had always hated losing more than anything.
In the midst of this chaos, he would walk forward believing only in those two truths. His role was the same as always: to tease her. That was all.