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Translator/Editor: Haruto

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◈ The Pushover Young Lord in a Romance Fantasy Won't Take It Anymore ◈

Chapter 32: The Stain of Being a Bastard

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On my way back after getting thoroughly beaten by Father.

I had just been beaten black and blue, yet I felt perfectly fine. If anything, I wanted to laugh.

Why?

Because I was on my way to see Celine with a famous delicacy brought all the way from the south.

Just thinking of Celine's smiling face made me smile too.

A box of sweet rice cakes that cost ten thousand shillings.

I bought them because the soft, chewy rice cakes reminded me of Celine's cheeks.

Knock, knock.

"Celine. Your brother's here."

There was no response from inside.

Thinking she might be asleep, I carefully opened the door.

Celine sat in the middle of the room with her eyes closed, concentrating on something.

Tiny ripples of mana stirred around her. So she had been practicing magic.

I approached Celine without making a sound.

Even when I stood right beside her and watched, she did not notice me. Her concentration was terrifying.

The mana pouring from her small body was remarkably dense and heavy.

"Haa..."

Before long, Celine let out a rough breath and steadied her breathing.

I narrowed my eyes as I observed her.

Mana gathered faintly within her, then dispersed.

'She's made another half-star.'

Creating two stars in such a short time was impossible, even with extraordinary talent.

Even forming half a framework like this was remarkable.

Her talent was so astonishing that calling her a genius was not enough.

Perhaps she was still absorbed in the lingering traces of mana.

Celine still showed no sign of noticing me.

Silently, I took out a sweet rice cake and gently pressed it to her cheek.

One sweet rice cake met another.

"Eek?!"

Celine's shoulders jumped.

Her wide eyes turned toward me, then she eyed the rice cake pressed to her cheek.

Chomp.

She took a bite out of it with her tiny mouth.

White starch powder clung around her mouth and to the tip of her nose.

Her little lips moved as she chewed. It was adorable.

"Is it good?"

"Yes! It's really good!"

The corners of Celine's eyes curved happily. Even the white powder on the bridge of her nose twitched.

"It's really famous in the south. I bought it especially for you."

I pulled my sleeve over my hand and carefully wiped the powder from around her mouth.

Celine obediently held still and continued chewing.

Her hair was messy from sweating during training.

I picked up the comb on the bedside table.

While Celine ate the rice cake, I gently combed her hair and quietly asked, "Aren't you pushing yourself too hard?"

"It's nothing compared to you, Brother. I need to work hard too!"

She answered in an exaggeratedly cheerful voice.

Even though she tried to hide it, impatience lingered at the end of her words.

With a bitter smile, I stopped combing her hair.

"What is it?"

Her chewing stopped cold.

Celine swallowed the rice cake and tilted her head.

"What do you mean...?"

"You don't need to rush. Take it slowly. Follow whatever interests you. I'm saying you should only do it when you're enjoying yourself."

Celine pressed her lips together and fell silent.

I did not press her for an answer. I simply waited.

"I'm a bastard, Brother."

Celine's gaze slowly fell to the floor.

"Selena and you both dedicate yourselves to the family, sweating and bleeding for it. You both suffer through so much..."

Celine, who had been staring at the floor, raised her eyes. Her faint smile was directed at me.

"Compared to you two, I can't do anything. I'm just a burden here."

Her sister was in the north, while her brother was risking his life in the south.

She felt guilty for being the only one living comfortably like a flower in a greenhouse.

I had suspected it for a long time.

Celine had been undervaluing herself and crushing her own self-esteem.

"The head of the house doesn't expect anything from me either."

Celine had never once been able to call Valdemar Dad.

To her, this was not a warm home. It was a meritocratic house.

Within its walls, Celine had shrunk further and further into herself.

"My blood may be weaker than yours, but... I'm still a Cardenos too. You both work so hard. I can't just sit around doing nothing. I want to work as hard as I can."

Celine forced a bright smile.

I could see how fragile that smile was.

The past, no, perhaps the future.

Why she had become a terrible witch. Why she was destined to fall.

Why she had destroyed House Cardenos, and why she had to kill Father and Selena.

What Celine wanted was the warmth of family and recognition as a member of the house.

"Celine."

I began combing her hair again.

"Before you're a bastard, you're my little sister. My only little sister."

Celine turned her head and stared blankly at my face.

"Who cares about a label like bastard? No matter how you change or where you are, you're still my little sister."

It had been the same when she became a witch.

The whole world called her a monster, but to me, she was only my hurting little sister.

I had driven a sword into my own sister's heart.

I had no intention of repeating that regret ever again.

"The reason I work this hard is partly for the family."

The coming destruction. Saving this world was my ultimate goal.

Then why did I want to save the world?

To save myself alone? If that were all, I would have given up long ago.

"I'm working hard so I can dress you in pretty clothes, feed you delicious food until you're stuffed, and make you happy."

Even now, facing Celine like this felt like a dream.

Her face, flushed with healthy color. The pale afterimage of the past.

Whenever I touched her cheeks, I always felt relieved.

Because I felt warmth instead of cold body temperature.

"So don't bottle everything up. If things are hard, lean on me whenever you want. You can act spoiled and complain. There's nothing shameful or wrong about that."

Celine was a great source of support for me.

It was my duty to protect her, and having Celine rely on me was one of the joys of having a little sister.

Because she was here, I could move toward my greater purpose without wavering.

"Snff!"

A sudden nasal sound.

I stared at Celine with wide eyes.

Celine squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed at her nostrils with the back of her clenched fist. Even that looked adorable.

I gently stroked her little head.

Celine lightly gripped my sleeve, then held out a rice cake to my mouth with her other hand.

"Try one, Brother. It's good."

It was obvious why she was changing the subject to the rice cakes.

"I don't need one. There's something much better right here."

I gently pushed the rice cake away.

Then I grabbed her pale, plump cheeks and stretched them wide.

They felt much softer and squishier than a sweet rice cake beneath my fingertips.

"Aww, you're too cute. Your cheeks are softer than rice cakes. I could just take a bite."

"J-jus' a momen'..."

Celine smacked my hand.

She seemed genuinely flustered, so I immediately let go.

"Sorry. Did that hurt?"

"No, no. It's not that."

Celine touched the rice cake with her fingertips.

Pinch, pinch.

After pinching it a few times to test its softness, she tilted her head at me.

"But this is softer?"

"..."

"Wouldn't it be better to touch this instead...?"

Hm.

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Nope. I'm taking a bite."

"Eek!"

After that, I thoroughly kneaded Celine's cheeks.

I had always thought of Celine as someone who only got squished.

So when she stretched both arms toward me for the first time, my mind went blank.

"?"

"Hehe..."

Squish, squish.

Celine's hands kneaded my cheeks as if she were working clay, like she was copying my movements.

Look at this one. Apparently, she did not want to be the only one getting squished.

"Your skin is tough and rough, Brother. It's like jerky."

"That's because I don't take care of my skin."

"No. It's because you've suffered so much."

Pat, pat.

Celine gently patted my cheek after kneading it. It felt like she was telling me I had done well.

"You've worked hard, Brother."

It felt as if our positions had been reversed.

Feeling indignant, I brought both hands gripping Celine's cheeks inward.

Her cheeks scrunched together, pushing her lips out like a goldfish's.

Then I pulled them wide in the opposite direction.

Celine's cheek area nearly doubled.

"Bwother... this huuurts..."

"You little sweet-rice-cake-marshmallow-mochi-rice-dumpling-meringue-baby-dumpling-soft-bean-cake cheekies!"

"I dunno wha' you're sayin'..."

"I'm just saying you're stupidly cute."

She had been groaning grumpily the entire time, but her eyes had curved into crescent moons.

She looked overjoyed because she loved this brother of hers to death.

Celine filled an even greater place within me.

* * *

Silence settled over the head of house's office.

Buried beneath a pile of documents, Valdemar pressed his fingers to his brow.

A splitting headache washed over him.

He was already drowning in work because of Rosenthal's relentless and vicious retaliation.

"...And now you're giving me a headache too."

The words were directed at Astin, who was not present.

As if that were not enough, his son had caused an incident at the Founding Festival, leaving him with no patience to spare.

"Hoo..."

He let out an exceptionally deep sigh.

Valdemar set down the quill in his hand.

Worrying himself sick would not solve anything right away.

He pushed the documents aside and leaned back in his chair.

He covered his weary eyes with the back of his hand. Now was the time to rest.

Soundless silence.

Moonlight streaming through the window fell across his face, making his profile gleam white.

Valdemar opened his eyes halfway. The cold moonlight held his gaze.

"..."

The iron bars of an underground prison. Moonlight swaying between them.

Whenever the full moon emerged from the clouds, the scene from that day overlaid reality.

Valdemar opened a secret drawer, locked twice over, at the deepest part of his desk.

He carefully took out an old painting that he had hidden away.

A painting set against the backdrop of the Cardenos estate.

A young boy holding a wooden sword and a young girl wearing a flower crown smiled brightly.

Valdemar's lips trembled faintly.

It was a time when they carried no burdens. A time when they had been each other's entire world.

An unforgettable voice echoed in his ears like an auditory hallucination.

"Maru! Give me your hand! I'll put the flower ring I made on you!"

Sometimes, it was the bright voice of his childhood friend, laughing innocently.

"Sir Valdemar. May endless glory await you."

Sometimes, it was the solemn voice of the liege he had sworn an oath to.

"Valdemar. How did we end up like this?"

Sometimes, it was the fragile voice of a woman who had turned away from an impossible love.

The memories came in sequence.

Whenever he traced the past backward, her end surfaced like a promise.

Valdemar was dragged back to that night, over a decade ago.

"Valdemar. My knight."

They faced the cold iron bars.

She sat on the freezing floor, bound in shackles and handcuffs.

Blue eyes as clear and transparent as the summer sky. Brilliant blue hair that once fluttered in the wind.

Her image remained vivid and wistful, as though he had seen her yesterday.

"..."

Suppressed emotions trembled. Valdemar's jaw shook.

Heat rose all the way to his throat, choking off his breath.

In the deepest abyss of Valdemar's heart, she remained submerged, anchored there.

His fingertips tenderly caressed the girl's cheek in the painting.

He was so careful, as if she might break with the slightest pressure.

She was that kind of woman.

She would stroke his rough calluses and be heartbroken as though they were her own.

She would lean against his shoulder beneath the shade of a great oak tree and sleep soundly.

Whenever they played tag, she would hide behind a tree and giggle without realizing that the hem of her skirt was sticking out.

He missed her smiling face too much to let his thoughts drift away.

"Please don't forget me. Forgive this terrible selfishness of mine."

Had her last words become a curse?

Every night with a full moon, Valdemar had to pull her from his heart.

"Valdemar, my knight. This is my last request before I die."

There had been no color in her final appearance.

If the moonlight had shone more brightly, would she have had color too?

Tears fell from her blue eyes.

That single teardrop stained his heart deeply.

"Erase all traces of me from that child. Let the child remain your foulest stain, so no one can ever suspect the child..."

Valdemar squeezed his eyes shut.

When his vision went dark, the feelings submerged within him rose to the surface.

Her face bloomed vividly in the darkness.

"The child's name is..."

A colorless afterimage overlapped her face.

A child who looked painfully like that woman. Blood of his blood, hidden beneath platinum-blond hair.

"Name her Celine."

Valdemar knew her too well.

He knew that she had named the girl Celine so that Valdemar would see his eldest daughter, Selena, in her.

It had meant that he should cherish her as though she were his own daughter.

But that child was a crime that could not be concealed, even by her mother's death.

"...Celine."

A pitiful child who would remain trapped in Cardenos all her life, receiving neither recognition nor expectation.

It was a fleeting fate that allowed her to survive only that way.

Whenever he saw the child's hunched shoulders, whenever he saw those blue eyes trembling sadly, his heart wavered.

"Please forgive me."

His sorrowful murmur scattered into the air.

Valdemar buried his face in his large hands.

Cold moonlight fell beneath the man's trembling eyes like tears.

Author's Note

I added a Celine illustration to the illustration collection announcement. It shows Celine fighting back against the cheek attack.

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