The Twins' Masquerade
Genevieve's protests were utterly futile.
Victor had already approved the plan—what could she do?
After a brief commotion, the house began to transform completely under Ibel's direction.
The scent of peaches wafted gently through the air, and the stuffy, stagnant atmosphere cleared right up.
The weather was so fine that the sunlight felt perfect.
Then Ibel led a group of maids to the twins' bedroom.
Genevieve chased after them furiously, but Ibel ignored her.
“……My God.”
The sigh escaped her lips the moment the door opened.
In the pitch-dark room, fit for ghosts, the fireplace blazed red alone.
“In summer… with all the windows shut… and a fire lit in the hearth?”
Ibel muttered in disbelief, and Eloi, who had been watching nervously beside her, explained.
“Lady Genevieve said it had to be this way to ward off the curse.”
“Ha.”
No wonder Damian roamed outside.
Even she couldn't live like this.
Tapping her forehead, Ibel gestured for them to extinguish the fire immediately.
“Take all the bedding out and wash it. Replace it with fresh linens, and remove the curtains. For anything short of a severe case, coughs like this can improve just from that.”
“No! Stop! Stop right now!”
Just as Genevieve shrieked and lunged for the curtains—
“Why all this commotion?”
A low voice cut through the air. His shirt was damp with sweat from training. Ibel flinched slightly but didn't avert her eyes.
She had seen Victor like this countless times, after all.
There was no need to be startled just because she was in a dress now.
……Or so she thought.
“No, listen to this. This house is poisoned through and through!”
Spotting Victor, Genevieve immediately launched into her grievances. But he cut her off before she could finish.
“She is a doctor who has studied the latest medicine. Do as she says. Especially from now on, everything concerning the children will be left to Ibel.”
“W-what…! A doctor?”
His blue eyes turned to her. Ibel nodded faintly in thanks, then slid her gaze behind him.
Two small heads came into view.
One stared at the floor, the other gazed up at her intently—before she could even say their names, Genevieve bustled forward.
“I've been caring for these children all this time. How can you take away my joy overnight? They're not my own flesh and blood, but I've cherished them so! Isn't that right, Anselm?”
Genevieve naturally passed by the one staring at the ground and approached the child with the bright, sparkling eyes.
As if the other one didn't even exist.
Anselm? This child?
But Ibel could only tilt her head.
Of course, today was the first time she'd properly met the twins, so she couldn't be certain—
But something felt off.
“That one's Damian, I think.”
The words slipped out because she herself was a twin.
She remembered how infuriating it was as a child when adults couldn't tell her and Abel apart.
“What? What do you know? This is Anselm.”
“Is he? He looks like Damian to me.”
“Ha, how can you retort so sharply without missing a beat? Is that what your elders taught you?”
“What's there to lose here?”
The bickering was starting to annoy her, so she replied indifferently, and Victor chuckled. He quickly pretended otherwise, but she knew. His demeanor had softened.
“Then I'll bathe the children now. They were running around with you.”
“Can I examine them later?”
“Yes, please do.”
In the end, she got no confirmation, but Ibel was convinced she was right.
The one who hadn't lifted his head, as if mesmerized by something on the floor, had looked straight at her in the final moment.
There was clearly calculation in those blue eyes, so like Victor's.
He's just a child, so it's obvious now, but at fifteen, he'll be impossible to read.
The next Bayern would be Anselm's.
Twins that age often switched names for fun—it was common. Tricking adults was amusing.
What concerned her, though…
The one who bit my hand was definitely Anselm. And the one who shot the slingshot was Anselm too.
Yet the one with the mental issues was supposed to be Damian?
Though puzzled, she kept it to herself for the moment. Soon after, she met the fluffy, freshly bathed twins.
I didn't expect proper greetings, but…
Perhaps because Victor was there, the two were remarkably well-behaved.
“Hello, Duchess. I'm Anselm Bayern. After Father passed, we took Mother's surname.”
Anselm, dressed in cute shorts and a shirt, placed one hand behind his back and bowed politely.
Black hair, icy blue eyes. Pale skin from lack of sun, with unusually rosy cheeks.
On the surface, he was an adorable child.
If only for the layers of hostility and malice stacked in his eyes.
“Nice to meet you, Anselm. Looking forward to getting along.”
“Yes.”
The boy smiled brightly and stepped back to introduce Damian.
“This is my younger brother, Damian. It'd be nice if he greeted you, but sorry.”
That's not what you should be apologizing for.
It's confirmed. The one who bit me was Anselm. And the one who shattered the window with the slingshot was Anselm.
It would take a while to get a proper apology.
She could point out the child's misdeeds now.
But as a Bayern, his temperament wouldn't yield to force.
He'd just hide his feelings deeper and shut off all communication.
So Ibel acted as if none of those thoughts had crossed her mind.
“It's fine. Let me take a look. Do you like candy?”
“I don't care for it much. Damian does.”
“So mature.”
As she checked his pulse by the wrist, she examined his eyes for redness, his temperature. Most importantly, she observed his chest movements.
How his breathing changed sitting, lying down, standing. How his thorax responded to pressure.
Listening with the stethoscope from her medical bag, she realized Anselm's sounds were far from normal.
“Next, Damian.”
The boy, leaning on the table stacking blocks with a bored expression, growled low as she approached.
But Victor's short, sharp whistle quieted him instantly.
“Good, both of you did very well. Victor, how about a snack for the boys?”
As she put the stethoscope away, Victor nodded.
Leaving the room, Ibel pondered deeply.
“Damian's surprisingly healthy. Incredibly sturdy. Anselm isn't severe in my view, but if we don't address the cause now, it could worsen soon…”
Twins, yet so different.
Why?
“They eat the same, sleep in the same place, same environment.”
The only difference was their lifestyles.
Anselm studies indoors for long hours, while Damian rolls around outside in the dirt. That's the only distinction. Oh, and according to Banya's notes, Damian sometimes eats three times what Anselm does.
It was frustrating without a proper research facility here.
She had to take her time; rushing wouldn't help.
“Victor.”
Calling him softly, he turned wordlessly as they walked the corridor.
“I know a professor who's an authority on respiratory diseases. He's a chemist; we debated briefly in university. He liked me enough to offer an assistant position.”