The Fraying Threads of Fate
Once again, contrary to the worries of Jin, Jil, and Mir, Seya was perfectly safe and in excellent health.
"Hey, shouldn't you learn a bit of restraint? You were running for your life until just now. Shouldn't you refuse what I give you, or at least hesitate to eat it? You know, show some spirit of resistance, like 'I'll fight to the bitter end'?"
The bearded man spoke, his voice laced with sheer disbelief as he watched Seya greedily inhale bread, stew, and grilled herring from across the table.
"I should at least stuff my face before I die," Seya replied without even looking up, tilting the bowl to drink the very last drops of the stew.
"I told you, I'm not going to kill you. I've thought this since I first saw you, but you really are incredibly stubborn, aren't you?"
Despite the man's grumbling, Seya silently continued to clear the plates. *Yeah, right. As if I'd believe that.*
Adults were never to be trusted. Especially those who reached out to help street rats like him. Usually, such gestures fell into one of three categories: they wanted to use you, they wanted to sell you, or they were offering a fleeting moment of pity. None of those options ever ended well for the children of the streets.
Those who tried to exploit a penniless child were thugs, and those who tried to sell them were human traffickers. Pity seemed sweet at first, but its aftertaste was always bitter. Seya and the other children had paid a very high price to learn that lesson. There was no need to repeat it.
Seya chewed and swallowed the last piece of bread, then glared fiercely at the man before him. Whenever he gave the children of the Shantytown that sharp, glaring look, they would flinch and cast their eyes downward. But this man was entirely unfazed.
"What are you staring at? Want me to order another bowl?"
*See? It's completely useless.*
"...This."
Even if his glaring didn't work, there was no reason to refuse food when he didn't know when his next meal—or his death—would come. Seya pointed to the plate where only the bones of the trout remained. Seeing his shameless behavior, the man chuckled and raised his hand toward the server.
"Hey, bring two more bowls of stew over here."
*If you were going to do that anyway, why did you even ask?*
"The trout here isn't very good. The stew is much better."
Perhaps Seya's inner thoughts had written themselves clearly across his face, because the man looked down at the boy's thin, bony hands as he spoke.
*He's probably saying that because the trout is more expensive,* the boy thought, completely unaware that the man sitting before him belonged to an influential noble family.
When Seya continued to stare with a dissatisfied expression, the man raised an eyebrow.
"So, are you not going to eat it?"
"Oh, I didn't say that."
At the swift reply, the man laughed once more. Seya watched him warily before burying his face in the warm bowl the server brought over. *That's right. I have to fill my stomach if I want to run away. Just you wait. I will definitely escape.*
Yigo Crysa's face, dotted with sparse, unkempt stubble, looked incredibly haggard. In the original novel, he had been a cold, expressionless puppet who lent his strength to Ditto Abaran. Yet here he sat before me, completely drained of all vitality.
"I will give you one week. One week. If you cannot find the book by then, I will kill you and drag in the next head of the Crysa family."
Those mocking words still echoed clearly in my mind. If they were mobilizing the eldest son of the Crysa family, they wouldn't go to such lengths just to find some ordinary picture book. There was only one book the villains desperately searched for in the original novel: the Red Book. It was the very book Ditto Abaran spent his life hunting down.
The eldest son of the Crysa family, who should have been Ditto's ally, and the book he was searching for—the connection between these two elements was glaringly obvious. Ditto and Mentil had joined hands much earlier than they did in the original timeline. Once again, the events of the novel had been accelerated.
A cool breeze swept through the open window. Rasiah watched his younger sister's long, wheat-colored hair flutter as she sat on the sofa in his office, before turning his gaze back to his documents.
"Do you remember when we were young? Back then, you only played with Ditto, which made me so sulky."
At Mentil Abaran's nostalgic remark, the First Prince snorted.
"Sulky? You followed us all the way into the forest back then and got us all stranded."
"Yes, we did, didn't we?"
As his sister giggled softly, Rasiah shook his head. He had been complaining lately about how many people had been barging into his room, but the First Princess ignored his annoyance and hummed a tune.
"Lately, I often find myself wishing I could go back to those days. Have you ever felt that way, Brother?"
"Right now, I find myself wishing you would go back to your own room."
Mentil laughed merrily at his blunt reply. Deciding she wasn't worth his time, Rasiah looked away from his foolish eldest sister.
When rumors first spread that his physical condition was abnormal, there were also rumors that the First Princess was being considered as a strong candidate for the throne. He had laughed so hard when he heard that. *A fool who only knows how to smile and dress up.* That was Rasiah's honest impression of Mentil Abaran.
Always talking about family affection and sibling bonds. He despised her for always spouting comfortable nonsense while being protected in a dog-eat-dog world. It irritated him that she always took the seat of honor, even though her Manis was clearly inferior to his or Ditto's.
It was also ridiculous that because she was deemed the most beautiful, items featuring her portrait—paintings, embroidery, and all sorts of goods—circulated throughout the empire. *To be worshiped by insects.*
Though she received all kinds of privileges under the tradition of cherishing the eldest daughter, his foolish sister clearly didn't even know how to look after herself. Did they say she used wind magic? It seemed reasonably strong, but her wheat-colored hair fell far short of platinum blonde, and the fact that she never used her Manis in front of him proved it. *I suppose she has enough shame to be embarrassed.*
"If you're so idle, go out and take a walk."
"I find looking at my family's faces much more refreshing."
*That tedious talk of family.* To him, who felt no brotherly affection for her, those words were highly unwelcome. Rasiah clicked his tongue and flipped a page irritably. Once he was officially appointed Crown Prince, he planned to sweep that fool far away. Traditionally, the eldest daughter does not leave the imperial palace, but once he became Emperor, things would change. He had no need for a useless fool in his palace. *A destitute life in the freezing north will snap her out of it.* When that day came, he would enjoy watching that smiling face crumple.
"You still seem to be on very close terms with Ditto," Mentil asked casually, as if she had no idea what Rasiah was thinking.
"What can I say? There is no other sibling I share such a deep connection with."
"Indeed. I suppose a younger sister can't easily fit between brothers." She toyed with her hair. "By the way, do you happen to remember when exactly you two became so close?"
*Why is she asking such a stupid question?* Rasiah put down his documents irritably, his voice sharp with annoyance.
"Why on earth does that matter?"
"It matters. What could be more important than the years shared between brothers?"
Annoyed by her foolish family talk again, Rasiah scowled and pointed to the door, deciding she wasn't even worth answering properly.
"Since the moment he was born, obviously. You're exceptionally talkative today. I'm busy, so leave."
Knowing he would lose his temper if she pushed further, Mentil stood up gracefully. At the door, she turned back with a soft smile.
"Think about it carefully, Brother. Looking back on your life is far more valuable than burying yourself in those documents."
"I know what is valuable and what isn't, so you don't need to worry."
He waved his hand dismissively without looking. Mentil smiled without a hint of a frown, just as she always did.
*Damn it.* My perfect plan to play dead and disappear the moment the protagonist arrived was slipping away. What on earth was the problem? I barely managed to fix one thing, only for another event to be brought forward. What was the trigger?
Thinking of how their alliance began in the original novel, the things I changed had absolutely nothing to do with it. The incident that led to realizing Mentil's true ability was supposed to happen after my coming-of-age ceremony, after which Ditto would approach her and they would join hands. This was why I tried to stay as far away from the First Princess as possible. I didn't want to mess with the original plot for no reason. Of course, the fact that Mentil was a terrifying woman who would do absolutely anything for her family also played a part.
The only saving grace was that the place they suspected the Red Book to be was completely wrong. I understood why they were searching Selos's room, but the Red Book wasn't there. And that was an item that absolutely must not fall into their hands yet.
Selos stared at the teacup in front of him, debating how to lift and set it down in a way that would make the least noise and attract the least attention, before deciding not to touch it at all.
"Is it not to your taste?"
"N-no, it's not that."
It didn't take long for him to realize that wasn't a very wise choice either. He carefully looked at the black-haired woman sitting across from him—his mother, who remained beautiful despite the fine wrinkles of her fifties.
Closing her eyes to savor her tea, she spoke without opening them. "Do not force yourself to drink it. You have been frail since you were young."
Feeling flinched as if he had done something wrong, Selos Abaran kept his mouth shut, feeling like a small child in front of his mother.
"Then again, when there is such a gap in ability, it cannot be helped."
The quiet remark, spoken like a monologue, clearly compared him to his other siblings. Selos's shoulders slumped further. He always felt this way in front of the Empress—guilty, suffocated, and uncomfortable. It was even worse this time because he was hiding something.
"I-it seems Your Imperial Majesty still enjoys stargazing."
The telescope caught his eye, and he desperately grabbed onto it to escape the uncomfortable topic. The Empress's eyes observed him briefly before turning away.
"Indeed. Wouldn't any citizen of the empire be curious about what lies up there, even if only a little?"
Fortunately, this choice wasn't bad. The Empress nodded and lifted her teacup. Selos awkwardly forced a smile.
"Yes. Everyone wishes to return to the stars and the moon, after all."
The Empress nodded quietly again. It had been a long time since they had a conversation that wasn't dominated by pity, trouble, or annoyance, so Selos felt his spirits lift.
"Ah, that must be why you have so many related books. That book is also in my room..."
Clack.
The loud sound of the teacup being set down cut off Selos's pathetic voice.
"You may leave now."
"...Pardon?"
"There seems to be nothing of import, and all this chatter is giving me a headache. I believe you have stayed long enough."
"Oh, so suddenly?"
"How can I rest in peace when the source of my headache is sitting right in front of me?"
"...I am sorry."
Selos quickly bowed his head and stood up. He knew all too well how much the Empress had suffered because he was born without ability. His stomach boiled with resentment.