Delusion (13)
Delusion (13)
Serepina comforted me for a long while before leaving the room.
She glanced back several times, but I just leaned against the doorframe and waved.
The door clicked shut, and I was alone again. A faint trace of her warmth lingered.
The next day, I attended the same classes, lived the same routine. If that momentum ever died, I didn't think I'd be able to do anything at all.
In the evening, I bought a couple of sandwiches and a pile of snacks from the street outside the academy, then headed for the church. The low sun cast long shadows across the road.
When I opened the church door, Estelle was sitting in a chair. She turned and waved.
"Ravin? What's that in your hand?"
"I brought dinner. Have you eaten yet?"
Estelle shook her head.
I pulled out the sandwiches I'd bought with Levina's money. Ham and cheese. Perfectly ordinary.
We sat side by side at the end of the long pew and started eating.
After we'd finished the sandwiches and started on the snacks, I spoke first.
"This weekend, I'm supposed to go somewhere alone with Levina."
"With Levina, just the two of you?"
Estelle repeated the words. Her voice held a note of surprise.
I nodded.
"I used to be pretty close to my little brother, but I don't think we ever went anywhere just the two of us." She shrugged. "Though I was too young to remember clearly."
She chewed and swallowed a bite of sandwich.
"So where are you going?"
"Haven't decided yet. Some quiet place, just the two of us."
"Doesn't sound like ordinary siblings."
"We were never very ordinary."
Estelle glanced at my hand. The palm was scraped raw. A wound from yesterday, in my room.
"What happened to your hand?"
"I fell."
I brushed it off.
"Give me your hand," she said.
I hesitated, then held it out.
She took it gently, her touch warm and soft.
A small light enveloped my palm.
A brief sting—then the wound vanished, as if it had never been there.
Still holding my hand, she spoke.
"So, Ravin—what is it you want now?"
She asked as if she could see right through me.
"I want to become Family Head."
Estelle started to speak, then pressed her lips shut. She looked down briefly, then back at me. Her crimson eyes gleamed.
"If you do become head, do you know what you'd do after that?"
I took a bite of my sandwich with one hand and didn't answer. I had no plan.
"If you haven't thought that far, why not marry me?"
Estelle asked casually, as if discussing tonight's dinner menu.
I was pretty startled, but I tried not to show it.
"First of all, didn't I already tell you I have a fiancée, even if we're not married?"
"You did. Sniveling that you were about to be dumped."
"The engagement... seems to have fizzled out."
Estelle's brow furrowed slightly.
"'Seems to have'—what does that even mean?"
She let go of my hand.
"Besides, aren't you fine noble lords all about alliances, politics, and money, not love? You lot just keep getting married without it."
Estelle stood up, then sat down closer to me.
"Look, you're all I have," she said, her voice serious.
"No matter how much the Church raises me up, how carefully all those highborn lords watch their words around me—I'm happier just eating dinner here with you and making small talk."
Estelle always spoke with conviction. I envied her that. I always had this vague sense that I needed to do something, had to do something—but I'd rarely spoken or acted with true certainty.
"......."
"I don't know much about power, but if you married me, who'd dare criticize you? And I'm certain I could love you better than that fiancée of yours who's already talking about breaking things off. At least I wouldn't throw away someone I love just because things got hard."
I stuffed the rest of my sandwich into my mouth, chewed for a long moment, and swallowed. Then I spoke quietly.
"Estelle, you know I'm not the kind of person who gets to say what I want—about marriage, engagements, the future, my next steps. Only our beloved Family Head gets to decide those things."
"Then what do we do?"
Estelle asked evenly.
"No—how are you going to become head?"
I stared at the floor.
"If I keep her locked up long enough, maybe something will shake loose."
"That's a bit vague."
Estelle replied, getting to her feet.
"Anyway, about the Duchess—keeping her locked in a coffin all day felt a bit much, so I let her out into the basement and toss her food every now and then."
"Ah, thanks for looking after her."
"So, when are you going to kill her?"
"I'm not going to kill her."
Estelle sighed.
"Well, that's not the worst idea. It's a bit of a nuisance for me, though."
"Speaking of which, I'll go see her. Give me the key."
Estelle pulled an old iron key from her pocket and handed it over. I grabbed the bag with the sandwiches and headed for the basement.
I unlocked the padlock and walked slowly down the stairs. The Duchess looked gaunt and smelled foul. Without a word, I tossed the bag in front of her. Her face was haggard—the look of someone who'd been locked up for days.
She glared at me for a long moment, then spoke.
"How did you manage to charm the Saintess?"
"Beats me."
"Ravin, tell me what you want."
After descending the stairs, I pulled a sandwich from the bag and tossed it to her. She caught it with both hands, but her grip was weak and she dropped it. The sandwich hit the floor.
"I wanted to try doing this."
"What, exacting a childhood grudge? How petty, for a man. Not even bold, just pathetic."
The Duchess sneered.
"No." I shook my head.
"I do hate you, but you're not the child my beloved conceived with another man. Why would I go that far for you?"
The Duchess gnashed her teeth.
"How in the world did a wretch like you crawl into the Saintess's good graces? Or are you planning to sell out our family to the Church? It must be your mother's blood—there's nothing you won't barter, body or soul."
"Whether I sell the family or do whatever with the Saintess, that's not what matters."
There was no chair in the basement, so I sat on the creaking stairs and looked down at the Duchess.
"What matters is Levina. Is she a cuckoo?"
"Why? Do you, a mere bastard, find the position of Family Head that tempting?" the Duchess mocked.
"Yes. It looks very tempting." I answered calmly.
"But don't worry. With my lowly red blood, I've no desire to act as disgustingly and vilely as your kind does."
Every time I spoke, the Duchess's brows twitched, as if something irked her.
"Just stay here a while. If I'm lucky enough to inherit the family, I'll release you somewhere suitable. After that, you can rot away in some remote estate surrounded by male whores and spend your remaining years however you like."
"And if you don't inherit?"
"Then I'll already be dead. You don't much like stupid questions, do you?"
She was silent for a long moment. As I moved to stand up, she spoke.
"Where is Clucel?"
"Clucel..."
"You don't even know your own uncle's name?" the Duchess snapped.
"I don't know what happened to that man."
I thought I understood why Estelle had been able to capture the Duchess so easily. The noble Duchess and the Family Head's brother were busy tumbling around together. The great privilege of letting her hear a scrap of that 'exalted' nonsense must have meant dismissing every guard. Anyway, I really had no idea where that so-called uncle was. I considered asking Estelle, but it was too much trouble. She'd have handled him well enough on her own.
The Duchess didn't touch the bag containing the sandwiches, cookies, and drinks. I looked at her, then started taking the contents out and placing them on a small shelf nearby.
Silence stretched. Not tense or awkward—this tiny basement was simply filled with mutual disgust.
And then the Duchess broke the silence with a low voice.
"Even if by some miracle you become Family Head, no one will acknowledge you. No one will accept you."
"It's always been that way."
"......."
"And I don't want that anyway. I'm not the kind of person you are."
With that, I left the basement. An unpleasant voice followed me, but I didn't bother to look back.