Chapter 14
Let It All Fly Away (3)
The Mausoleum family carried the bloodline of the Black Dragon.
Because of this, the Black Dragons established an institution to communicate with, assist, and oversee the Mausoleum family.
That was the Black Dragon Assembly.
“I thought it was just a setting that existed in the lore…”
Ever since the incident a thousand years ago caused by the Mausoleum family, dragons had chosen seclusion, refusing to interfere with the human world. As such, the Black Dragon Assembly was rarely ever convened.
Not that it hadn’t been called at all in those thousand years—but as far as I knew, in this timeline, which was only a year before the start of the original story, there was no such setting where the Assembly was convened.
“Oh, come on…”
The Assembly was scheduled to be held in a week.
When I heard the news, I had no choice but to sigh again.
Aren’t dragons supposed to be so lazy that even going for a stroll in the neighborhood takes them months?
A week wasn’t nearly enough to prepare anything.
Not that preparations mattered—what could I possibly do that would be enough when it came to beings as supreme as dragons?
Because of the news of the Assembly, my trip to the capital had to be postponed as well.
In its place, a brand-new duty was added.
“Clean more thoroughly! Not a single speck of dust will be tolerated!”
“Who’s in charge of the ceiling?! There’s dust piled up in the innermost corner of the third beam the size of a fingernail!”
That duty was none other than cleaning and preparing the estate.
Until now, I thought the Mausoleum family’s servants worked pretty diligently—but from today onward, I changed my mind.
“Is this a circus or cleaning…?”
They were dangling from countless ladders and ropes, cleaning while hanging upside down from the ceiling—it was absurd to watch.
“Head Butler, should I help with some magic?”
“No, young master. That would only spoil the servants. Leave this to us, and you should focus on your own work.”
That was the Head Butler’s response, as he oversaw the entire cleaning operation.
My role was to research records of past Assemblies held in our family chronicles, and prepare everything accordingly: the manners required, the ceremonial order, the menus dragons preferred, and the appropriate gifts.
In between all that, I also oversaw Marco’s lessons. That was supposed to be the Head Butler’s duty, but he was too busy with cleaning.
However… something was off from what I expected.
“He’s not as sharp as I thought?”
Marco wasn’t progressing very quickly in his studies.
“You don’t get it?”
I asked as Marco struggled for ages over a math problem I gave him.
It was something solvable in seconds with a middle-school level formula. I’d even taught him that formula less than an hour ago.
“Uh? Ah, no, I’ll just think a little longer.”
“Fine.”
I reopened my book and continued reading, idly practicing my magic by keeping an apple orbiting around me.
But before I even finished a page, I set the book down again.
“……”
Marco was still groaning, clutching his paper. Worse, he kept glancing restlessly around.
“Why’s he so distracted?”
In the original story, Marco was depicted as calm, collected, and exceptionally clever.
Especially when it came to math, statistics, and calculations—he was said to surpass even Seymour.
“Don’t tell me… was his genius only awakened after his younger sibling’s death?”
I studied Marco for a moment, then returned to my book.
Well, it’s his loss, not mine.
It didn’t bother me much.
If he proved completely useless, I could always relegate him to servant work.
* * *
Marco simply couldn’t focus on his studies.
The life he was experiencing was so utterly different from what he had expected.
“Wait… wasn’t I supposed to be a political hostage? Why am I being forced to study instead?”
He couldn’t understand why he was sitting in a grand library, studying on a plush sofa.
And there were plenty of distractions fueling his confusion.
“Baaah.”
The first was the little one—the baby who clung to Seymour wherever he went.
“Staaare—.”
Whenever they locked eyes, the baby, fascinated by Marco’s unfamiliar face, would gaze at him intently.
Those golden eyes were so mesmerizing that when Marco accidentally looked into them, it felt as if his very soul was being laid bare.
“Haaah…”
Just one glance left him needing to take deep breaths.
The second distraction was the steady stream of other count family members who came to the library.
“Brother! What’s this about a Black Dragon Assembly?!”
“B-big brother… are the dragons really coming…?”
And the third distraction—the very subject of those conversations.
Since Seymour had introduced Marco as trustworthy, the family didn’t filter their words around him.
“Dragons…? The dragons are coming here? To this mansion?”
Marco felt like his soul was leaving his body.
Shouldn’t he run away immediately? At the very least, shouldn’t he smuggle his younger siblings out of here?
Naturally, under such circumstances, he couldn’t possibly focus on studying.
“Ugh…”
And yet, Marco still tried his best to concentrate.
Meanwhile, Seymour watched him with cold eyes that said: If you turn out useless, I’ll discard you.
“……”
Watching this, someone’s chest tightened.
“Haaah…”
It was Simon.
“Isn’t the Assembly happening because you went into the mausoleum and brought Lucis back?”
“Not likely. What’s the reaction from the branch families?”
“They’re panicking too. Do you think one of them… might have instigated this?”
Leaving his siblings’ conversation behind, Simon staggered out of the library.
Lucis quietly watched his departing back.
* * *
“Haaah… haaah…”
Simon barely made it out of the library corridor before collapsing against the wall, panting.
Thud—
His strength drained, and his body slid down, though Simon hardly even noticed.
“Huff… huff…”
He was trying.
Just as Sia had said, he was trying to accept that Seymour was changing.
By now, Simon knew the truth.
Seymour really had changed. Thinking only of the past and letting fear paralyze him was nothing but a prison he made for himself.
“Ugh…”
But hearts don’t always obey reason.
Just the look in Seymour’s eyes—eyes that faintly resembled those from that moment in the past—was enough to make it hard for Simon to breathe.
“Don’t remember…”
Simon desperately tried to suppress his thoughts and his breathing.
“I don’t want to remember.”
He wanted to forget.
He wanted to finally leave the past in the past, and move forward.
He wanted to go where Sia and Seymour were, to walk alongside his now-changing family.
“So please…”
But as always, hearts don’t move as one wishes.
— Our second son is so clever!
When was it? Seven years ago?
There had been a time when their father often praised Simon.
— Haha! At this rate, Simon might end up inheriting the Countship!
At first, Simon had simply been thrilled.
After all, their father had never praised him before.
Later, he realized those compliments were just a ploy to provoke Seymour.
But still, he cherished them. Praise was praise.
— Brother, you know I have no interest in the title, right?
— …Yes. I know.
Simon had said that many times, unwilling to grow apart from Seymour.
Back then, Seymour still had some interaction with him. He didn’t pamper him, but at least he didn’t push him away or ignore him.
Simon thought that was his brother’s way of showing love.
Then came that day.
Later he learned that on that day, Seymour had endured especially severe abuse from their father—probably once again being compared to Simon.
Simon hadn’t known about Seymour’s regular abuse back then. Even so, Seymour’s state was so unusual that even Simon noticed.
— Brother, are you okay?
— …
Seymour had only stared at him in silence.
His gaze was unsettling. Strange. That must have been why Simon, in a desperate attempt to confirm his brother’s affection, suggested:
— Let’s go out together.
— …
— The autumn leaves are beautiful, and I heard boating on the lake is nice. Let’s go.
— …Lake.
— Yeah. There’s a lake not far from the castle, right?
After watching Simon quietly, Seymour nodded.
Overjoyed, Simon prepared for their outing.
They dismissed the servants, boarded a boat, and rowed together to the middle of the lake.
— About Sia…
— …
— And then the head maid…!
— …
Seymour was always quiet, but that day he was completely unresponsive.
For some reason, Simon began to feel cold.
— Next time you go riding, take me with you too.
— …
— I still don’t know how to get along with horses…
Simon kept trying to talk, seized by an odd compulsion to continue the conversation.
But even his one-sided chatter eventually petered out.
— …
— …
The wind skimmed across the icy surface of the lake.
The small boat creaked beneath them.
That sound was eerily similar to the instinct in Simon’s gut, screaming at him to flee.
That was when Simon realized—
No, he had known it all along but simply denied it.
— …
The gaze his brother fixed on him… was calculating his death.
Cold, expressionless, devoid of affection, hatred, or anger.
It was the gaze of someone weighing how things would change if he killed the person before him—whether it would benefit him.
— …Simon.
The moment Seymour opened his mouth, Simon dropped to his knees by instinct.
What happened after was hazy.
He only remembered begging, pleading not to be killed, sobbing desperately for his life.
At some point, he fainted. When he awoke, he was back in the castle.
After that, Simon never again went near Seymour.
Even at meals, he avoided eye contact as much as possible.
And that was how things had remained until now.
“Haaah…”
Simon clutched his chest.
He knew he would never forget that memory for as long as he lived.
He would always fear Seymour—until the day he died.
He would never change.
“I’m sorry, Sia. I…”
That was when it happened.
Step.
At the sound of tiny footsteps, Simon looked up.
“…Little aunt?”
Lucis stood before him.
Tilting his head, Lucis noticed Simon clutching his chest.
“Hurt?”
“Huh? Ah… yes.”
Simon answered without thinking.
Lucis studied him for a moment, then pointed directly at him.
“Stand.”
“…What?”
“Stand up.”
Flustered, Simon nonetheless obeyed and stood.
Being tall, he loomed over the child, who now looked like a tiny ball of fluff.
Lucis nodded, then stretched out both arms.
It took Simon a moment to realize—this was the same gesture Lucis used when asking Seymour to hold him.
“Uh… uh…”
It was the first time Lucis had ever asked him for a hug. Hesitantly, Simon scooped him up.
“Mm.”
Lucis squirmed several times, as if Simon’s embrace was uncomfortable.
“S-sorry, little aunt. This is my first time holding a child…”
“Hmph.”
Lucis gave him a look that said, Well, I guess I’ll just have to forgive you.
Feeling oddly wronged, Simon politely asked:
“Do you… want to go somewhere?”
“No.”
Then why ask to be held? He couldn’t bring himself to ask. As he hesitated, Lucis pointed to Simon’s chest.
“You said hurt, right?”
“Huh? Oh… yes.”
Lucis placed his small hands over Simon’s heart.
“Hurt…”
Then, suddenly lifting his hands, he declared:
“Fly away!”
“…What?”
Simon blinked.
Lucis, however, repeated with utmost seriousness, placing his hands back on Simon’s chest.
“Hurt… fly away!”
Simon stared blankly for a moment, then burst out laughing.
“Ahaha!”
Lucis always looked so serious and mature that he seemed like a little old man—but at times like this, he was undeniably a child.
Simon laughed until his stomach hurt before finally calming down.
Lucis asked,
“Not hurt now?”
“Yes. Thanks to you.”
It was true.
Somehow, his fear of Seymour, his dread of those memories—it had all vanished.
Watching Simon’s relieved laughter, Lucis added with his usual blank expression:
“Then now, send away the scary things too. And the things you hate. Let them all fly away.”
“….”
Pierced so suddenly, so deeply, Simon was struck silent.
