TPHRU 10

Chapter 10…

Interlude — Bernard and Felicia

“Onii-sama, today I thought I’d try reading this book.”

Felicia, her small hands wrapped around a heavy volume, approached Bernard, who was standing before the bookshelf, deep in thought over his own selection.

“Mm, sounds good. You’ve really started reading some difficult books lately.”

Bernard gently took the book from her arms and glanced at the cover before tucking it under his arm.

“But you’re still choosing your book, aren’t you? I can hold mine myself,” Felicia said, her brows dipping in mild protest.

Bernard met her expression with a soft gaze and picked out a book of his own.

“No, I just finished choosing. Let’s go see Mother.”

Their mother, Marguerite, had been confined to bed for quite some time now. Bernard couldn’t quite remember when it had begun—this habit of reading aloud beside her, showing her how much their studies were progressing.

As they walked down the corridor, Bernard glanced sidelong at Felicia, who kept glancing back at him, perhaps worried that he was carrying both books. His lips curved into a faint smile.

Felicia’s features resembled their mother’s very closely. People said Bernard also took after her, but perhaps because Felicia was a girl, her expressions and gestures often mirrored their mother’s in an almost startling way.

Bernard sometimes found himself a little envious of that—because it felt as though Felicia stood closer to their mother than he ever could.

(But I have Father’s blue-sapphire eyes.)

Of course, Bernard deeply admired their father, Christophe—a man whose love embraced the whole family. The color of their eyes, the same deep blue, was a source of pride for him.

(Mother’s hair, and Father’s eyes… I’ve been blessed with both. I really am fortunate.)

When they stopped before their mother’s bedroom door, Felicia gently grasped the hem of Bernard’s jacket. She always got a little nervous before entering. Their mother’s condition changed from day to day—would she look in pain today?

Felicia’s amethyst eyes, a deeper shade than their mother’s pale wisteria ones, looked up at Bernard with worry.

(I’m Felicia’s older brother—I have to stay strong.)

Bernard shifted the books in one arm and reached out with his free hand to hold hers.

“I’m sure she’s all right today. Come on.”

Felicia’s anxious gaze softened into a small, trusting smile.

“Yes, Onii-sama. Let’s go.”

Still holding hands, Felicia knocked on the door in place of Bernard, since his arms were full.

“Come in,” came their mother’s voice—light, almost cheerful.

Relieved, the two of them waited for the door to open.