Call Me Senior
Lefonya stared at the mound of chocolates and candies piled high in Felence’s palm. There was a limit to how much sweetness one could tolerate at a time; gathered in such a heap, the cloying scent was practically suffocating.
When he had abruptly chased all the maids out of the room, she had assumed he was looking for a fight. Instead, he had brazenly snatched away the figs and honey-glazed apples she was enjoying, thrusting a handful of confections into her face and telling her he would keep watch while she hurried up and ate.
"Give me back my figs and honeyed apples."
"What? Not the chocolates and candy?" Felence whipped his head toward her, shouting in sheer disbelief. "Wait, do you not know what these are? Have you never had sweets before? Well, Father is an absolute fanatic about health, so I suppose he’d never let you touch the stuff. ...Hey, just try one. Once you taste this, you won’t even look at figs or apples again."
"I know what they are. Birdie gave me some before."
"You've had them? And you still want figs and apples?"
"One piece is delicious, but eating too many makes my tummy sick of it."
Lefonya plucked a single piece of candy from the heap and set it aside.
"You’re the first five-year-old I’ve ever seen with any self-control around chocolate and candy. ...When I was your age, I gorged myself on sweets behind Father's back until I got an upset stomach."
"Did you give me this to make my tummy hurt?"
"Hey! A little bit like this won't upset your stomach. You'd have to stuff your face for hours for that."
...I think I'm beginning to understand why the second son still hasn't graduated from the Academy.
"I'm still a patient," five-year-old Lefonya declared, putting on a remarkably sensible face. "Patients need to eat healthy. If the doctor catches me stuffing myself with candy, he'll throw a fit."
"That’s why I said I’d keep watch!"
"Why would I trust you?"
"What?"
Felence froze. While he was momentarily struck dumb, Lefonya calmly reclaimed the dish of figs and honeyed apples he had confiscated. Skewering a slice with her small fork, she said nonchalantly,
"It's not like you're on my side anyway."
She had not addressed him with cold formality like yesterday, but she had not used his name either. And she certainly refused to call him brother.
Granted, before she drank the potion, Lefonya had lived twenty years, while Felence was currently twenty-three, which technically made him older. But calling him "brother" felt distasteful—it made her feel as though she were truly usurping the lost young lady's rightful place. At most, she was a temporary substitute who would be gone in a few months, or a couple of years at the absolute longest.
"You think I'm a fraud," Lefonya stated casually, popping a honeyed apple slice into her mouth. "You came here to kick me out, didn't you?"
There was no need to beat around the bush. Stuffing a slice of apple into each cheek, she chewed slowly before asking her question.
Stuffing both cheeks forces my tongue to work harder and opens my mouth wider. It actually makes my pronunciation clearer.
Lefonya resolved to practice her speech like this every time she had a snack, happily munching away on her treats while harboring such eccentric thoughts.
"Just what are you? You know that, and you can still sit there talking to me like this?"
As if swapping out a mask, the warmth vanished from Felence’s gaze, turning ice-cold.
"Lefonya Craitan. I told you yesterday," she murmured nonchalantly. Having introduced herself so many times by now, the surname Craitan rolled off her tongue quite naturally.
"...Brat. You clearly have no idea how heavy that name is," Felence muttered chillingly.
Clatter.
With a hardened expression, Felence emptied his palm, letting the chocolates and candies scatter across the table. It looked less like an offer and more like discarded rubble—a crumbling sandcastle.
"Fine, you're right," Felence said, resting his chin on his hand across from her. "In that case, I'd prefer it if you packed up and left the estate quietly, without causing a scene."
Lefonya quietly chewed on another piece of apple, undisturbed.
"If you promise to leave without a fuss, I'll sponsor you until you come of age. A clean, safe house, obviously, and I'll even send you to the Academy if you want. I'll make sure you want for nothing until you're an adult."
"You can talk about that after you actually graduate," the five-year-old retorted neatly to the grown man.
Felence’s face instantly twisted in indignation. "I didn't fail to graduate, I chose not to! I could easily pass the graduation exams this term if I wanted to!"
"Oh." Lefonya bobbed her head.
"It's a pretty good offer for you, isn't it? So, when do you think you can lea—"
"I have no intention of leaving."
Lefonya cut him off without hesitation. At her blunt refusal, Felence’s face darkened.
"Why? It's so nice and warm right now."
"Do you think I'm asking about the weather? You're talking about running away from home like you're deciding on an afternoon stroll!"
Lefonya shook her head as if he were entirely absurd and popped a cut of fig into her mouth. The soft, ripe pulp burst delightfully, filling her mouth with luscious sweetness. Mmm. Fruit really is best when it’s fresh.
"You’d better take my offer while I'm still feeling generous enough to sponsor you, brat. What are you going to do if I throw you out right this second?"
Felence leaned in, his tone deliberately menacing. Had Lefonya truly been five years old, she might have agonized over what sounded like a generous compromise. Is he planning to change his tune the moment I step foot outside?
Fortunately, Lefonya was no ordinary child. Once I secure the family heirloom, I can live however I want. I won't need anyone's sponsorship.
She studied Felence closely. He's different from the rumors.
They said he was an erratic, selfish scoundrel whom everyone walked on eggshells around. Rumor had it that on bad days, merely meeting his gaze was enough to get beaten half to death.
"You still won't kick me out."
"What? Ha, aren't we confident, brat?" Felence scoffed. "You sound awfully sure of yourself. Do you have some kind of backing? You used the word 'fraud' yourself earlier. Did whoever sent you here order you to stay put no matter what?"
Convinced he was onto something, Felence glared at her, his eyes narrowing sharply.
"I already told you why. Did you fowget already?"
"What? What reason?" he demanded, letting a sliver of murderous aura leak through.
Lefonya blinked innocently. "I'm still a patient."
As if suddenly struck by a realization, the fierce edge in Felence’s eyes softened in an instant.
Just as expected.
Even with all the horrific rumors trailing behind him, it seemed Felence couldn't bring himself to be truly cruel to a five-year-old child.
"Are you going to kick out a sick five-year-old?"
"Ha... You make me sound like total scum when you put it like that. No, wait, that's not what I—I just forgot about that... Gah."
Felence ran a hand through his hair, his expression contorting in frustration. At a loss for words, his blue eyes darted around the room. She had been injured right here in the Craitan estate, and the culprit might very well be one of their own retainers. He wanted her gone, yet a sense of responsibility clearly gnawed at him.
Having him feel indebted to me works to my advantage. A sense of obligation was often a person's greatest vulnerability. He's softer than I thought.
With an impassive expression, Lefonya continued nibbling on her honeyed apple.
"Hey, brat." Watching her, Felence spoke up again. "Why don't you ever call me brother?"
Lefonya tilted her head. "Are you my brother?"
"What?"
"You're not my brother. You don't even think of me as the young lady of this house."
Her tone was utterly serene, as if she had accepted her place long ago—fully aware that apart from Duke Craitan, no one under this roof considered her family. She answered as though it were the most natural conclusion in the world.
"So how could I address the second son of House Craitan so casually?"
Calling him by name was too familiar, while calling him "brother" was unfitting since they weren't family.
"Besides, aren't you going back to the Academy soon anyway? Since you haven't graduated yet."
"Listen here, brat. That graduation thing... ugh, I swear I'm graduating right after this upcoming exam! I'm going to graduate at the top of my class, just you wait and see!"
"We'll see."
"What? Do you think I haven't graduated because I'm stupid?! I told you, I just didn't want to—!"
"That's not what I meant. I don't know if I'll even be here by the time you graduate. I might die in an accident, or run away, or have my adoption dissolved."
"What? Hey, why the hell would you say something so—"
"No one knows the future. I never imagined I'd be living in a grand estate like this, wearing fine clothes, eating fresh fruit, and being called a duke's daughter."
At most, she had envisioned infiltrating as a maid; who could have guessed she would become the ducal lady?
"So just because you don't know what the future holds, you're not going to address me at all while you're here?"
"Using your name feels too familiar, and I don't want to use that other title."
Felence furrowed his brow. He was clearly speaking to a five-year-old, yet an insurmountable wall stood between them. There wasn't a trace of emotion in the words tumbling from her tiny lips.
No dreams, no hopes—everything about her felt worn and faded. All that lingered was a crumpled, age-old helplessness and quiet resignation. To think that was all a five-year-old carried inside her...
"...Was I ever this numb? I don't think I was ever this bad," he murmured under his breath.
"Huh? What did you say?"
"Nothing." Felence shook his head. "Still, you need something to call me. Like you said, no one knows what the future holds."
"Then... what should I call you?"
"If my name's too familiar and you hate 'brother,' just make something up, brat. ...Hey, the sun's glaring over here."
Felence gestured toward the maid standing quietly beside Lefonya. Startled, the maid hurried over, snapping open a parasol to shield Felence.
"What are you doing? Not me." Felence tipped his chin toward Lefonya. Only then did the maid notice the harsh sunlight beating down on Lefonya's arm, hastily shifting the parasol to shade her.
"Don't you know her bedroom caught fire? She might have burns, so shade her properly!"
"I-I'm so sorry, my lord!"
"If you can't do your job right, submit your resignation and get out."
Felence leaned back against his chair with an irritated scowl and closed his eyes.
I suppose the rumors about his rotten temper weren't entirely made up. Relieved that she currently looked like an innocent five-year-old, Lefonya fell deep into thought.
"Hmm. How about... Senior?"
"...What?"
Slouching against the back of his chair, Felence sat bolt upright in utter disbelief.
"Hey. Is that what family calls each other?"
"We're not family, so why do you keep insisting we are? I told you, I don't have any family here."
"...You really have an answer for everything, don't you?"
"Besides, didn't you say you were going to kick me out? Why are you so obsessed with what I call you?"
Felence paused.
"...Right." The energy drained from his voice.
Nibbling on her fig, Lefonya stole a glance at him.
"Maybe I've gone mad like Father. Or maybe your face just reminds me too much of someone."
"My face?"
Lefonya rubbed her cheeks, touching her face with curious fingers. Felence merely offered a wry smile, then briskly shook it off, sounding lively again.
"Either way, you're not my junior, are you?"
"...A moment ago, you promised to sponsor me and send me to the Academy if I wanted. So 'Junior' wouldn't be wrong."
Faced with the five-year-old's flawless logic, Felence was struck dumb.
"Even at the Academy, I tell the underclassmen not to call me that because it creeps me out!"
"Mmm. So you don't like it?" Lefonya asked, carefully watching his reaction.
Seeing a five-year-old walking on eggshells around him made Felence feel suddenly wretched. Throwing his hands up in defeat, he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair once more.
"Hah, call me whatever you want. Senior, junior... what does it matter anyway?"
"All right, Senior."
Lefonya beamed and finished off the rest of the honeyed apples.
With nothing left to say and nothing left to do, Felence remained by Lefonya's side, keeping his eyes closed in quiet company—until she had savored every last bite of apple and fig.