AME 54

Chapter 54

Kaon found himself staring at Alessia without realizing it. Her face still carried that faint smile, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“Hey, hey, Kaon’s right there, you know.”

“Ah, what does it matter? If not now, then when else would I get the chance to talk about this?”

Morris then launched into a spiel about how he liked women with beautiful smiles—something no one had asked for—before dramatically proclaiming, “To think I’d get to confess my heart to you, my lady…!” Only to narrowly avoid Nils’ fist swinging at him.

“Well… I’ve never really thought about it,” Alessia admitted.

“It’s never too late to start! Honestly, the first thing that comes to mind is often closer to the truth than something you overthink.”

“Hmm… then…”

Alessia hesitated for a moment as though lost in thought. Kaon instinctively leaned in to listen. Truthfully, he had been curious about this himself. It was something he’d wanted to ask back in Belliom but never managed to.

“Someone who doesn’t stand out would be nice.”

Someone who doesn’t stand out? Kaon frowned, taken aback by the unexpected answer. Usually, when asked about their ideal type, people gave concrete traits—

Like, “I prefer tall men,” or “Someone with a strong build,” or “Someone handsome.” And if not physical traits, then perhaps wealth or personality.

“…That’s a hard one,” he murmured.

Alessia’s reply was, as Morris put it, not something you could easily grasp at first glance.

Someone who doesn’t stand out—what did that mean? Someone who doesn’t draw attention? A man with no presence? Or just an ordinary man with nothing remarkable? Or—did she mean it literally? Someone who’s rarely around?

Any way you looked at it, the meaning was ambiguous.

“But one thing’s certain,” Morris said cheerfully. “That description has nothing to do with our young master here!”

If anything was clear, it was that Kaon didn’t fit that condition in the slightest. He shot Morris a cold glare for voicing what he himself had just been thinking.

“You should count yourself lucky you were born a noble, Morris.”

“My dear mother often says the same thing.”

“Oh, how proud you must be.”

Nils clicked his tongue and scolded him in Kaon’s stead, though that did little to soothe Kaon’s irritation. He decided to scrap the earlier plan of letting Morris run his mouth. That guy’s tongue was a disaster waiting to happen.

Someone who doesn’t stand out, huh…

Kaon compared that condition to himself.

On the matter of presence, he was disqualified without question. From childhood, he had always drawn attention wherever he went. With a face that mirrored his mother—the woman who had secured the position of duchess on looks alone—he had no choice in the matter.

And he was far from ordinary. In fact, he was the exact opposite: his status, his face, his abilities—all of it. Admitting it felt insufferably arrogant, but facts were facts.

Lastly, rarely seen? Sharing the same room with her made that impossible.

In short, Kaon Ferdinand was as far from Alessia Ingelos’s ideal as the heavens were from the earth. There was no way to twist things to make it fit.

He resolved to let it go and idly pondered how he might make himself less noticeable—before realizing how ridiculous that was. Like a dog tossing a bone for itself, chasing something pointless.

“May I ask why you prefer that kind of man, my lady? I’ve posed this question to many women, but you’re the first to answer that way.”

“I just think… life would be easier that way.”

Alessia spoke with a faint smile, though something about it seemed bitter.

“Ah, that’s true enough. They say the most expensive price to pay is for one’s face. I’ve paid quite a bit myself.”

“Shut up.”

“I’d brag a little more, but since the young master’s sitting right here, I’ll restrain myself.”

The way Morris said it, it almost sounded like he was teasing Kaon—‘The lady clearly doesn’t like you, young master!’ Kaon kicked at a fallen leaf in annoyance.

The sky was darkening to an inky blue as white snowflakes drifted down, silent and delicate, like a flurry of blossoms.

It was the first snowfall of the year.

Kaon, who had been staring out at the dusk settling over Ferdinand, turned his gaze to the curtains. After a brief pause, he spoke casually, almost carelessly.

“Hey, it’s snowing.”

Nils had predicted this winter would be unusually harsh, and sure enough, the snow had come earlier than last year. The sight of pure white flakes scattering across the black night sky was beautiful enough to share—but the other side of the room remained silent.

“It’s snowing right now, you know? Don’t blame me if you regret not looking.”

He repeated himself, but no answer came. As he suspected, she wasn’t in the room tonight either. So much for having a conversation for once.

Lately, Alessia had been stepping out in the evenings more often than not. Because of that, even their usual bickering had fallen into a lull.

In fact, they hadn’t really talked in a while—not because of fights or cold shoulders, but because an inexplicable awkwardness had settled between them.

Kaon stared at the curtains in silence. The soft rustle of turning pages, the faint scratch of a quill, the barely audible sound of footsteps…

After a year and a half of sharing a space, he had unknowingly grown accustomed to those small sounds. When Alessia wasn’t around, it felt oddly empty—like something that should be there had gone missing.

It was absurd. He had resisted the engagement with Ingelos tooth and nail, and now here he was—sharing a room, getting used to her presence, even feeling her absence. Life was strange indeed.

Kaon tore his gaze away from the curtains and looked back outside. The snowfall glittered like stardust, clearing his mind just by watching it.

Then his eyes drifted to the right side of the garden. Someone was walking down the path lined with plane trees.

…Alessia?

Kaon’s vision sharpened. That soft, silvery hair streaming in the moonlight and mingling with the snowflakes could belong to no one else. And then he noticed the man beside her.

Georges Flemang.

Since his humiliating defeat in the duel, Georges had thrown himself into training. Occasionally, he’d cast Alessia looks of open admiration, which grated on Kaon’s nerves, but he had never acted on it—at least, not until now.

So why all of a sudden…?

As the two figures slipped deeper into the shadows, Kaon snapped out of it and bolted from the room.

He cleared the building in no time and followed the path they had taken. It wasn’t hard—the trail was a single, continuous walkway. Soon, he spotted them not far ahead. Silently, he crept closer, pressing himself behind the trunk of a massive tree.

What the hell am I doing…

He suddenly realized he must look like some petty thief sneaking around someone else’s house. The thought stung, but he decided to embrace it. After all, this was his house. No one would arrest him for eavesdropping. He’d listen, and if that bastard said anything stupid, he’d make him regret it.

“I have no improper intentions.”

Kaon’s brow shot up at the first words he heard. In his experience, anyone who claims they have no ulterior motives is the one you should suspect the most.

Humans instinctively bring up what bothers their conscience first. There’s a reason for the saying, ‘The guilty tongue pricks the heart.’ No matter how well you try to hide it, guilt seeps through.

So, if he felt the need to declare his innocence, it meant he damn well knew what he was about to say sounded improper. That bastard…

“Once I’m knighted, I’ll finally be a true knight. Last summer, you told me I would become a great one someday. I’ve held on to those words, cherished them, and strived to make them real.”

Kaon nearly rolled his eyes. What nonsense. Alessia couldn’t very well tell him, ‘Why don’t you just stay a useless second son and die quietly?’ So she’d offered a polite remark, and he’d taken it as gospel.

If he had known this would happen, Kaon would have said, ‘Unless your skull’s cracked, stay away from a woman who’s engaged,’ or better yet, ‘Purge those thoughts and join a monastery.’ At least then he’d be a priest—or dead. Kaon silently cursed his past self for being so lenient.

“And so, I want to offer you flowers, Lady Alessia.