[V10C12] Because I Am Not Kind

Cyril Ashley always walked with a straight posture, a determined gaze, and a proud demeanor.

However, he was currently hunched over, pacing through the corridors of the west wing with a face that belonged to someone on the verge of death. This was his third lap.

Just like his feet kept pacing up and down the corridor, the same thought kept circling around in his head. His mind was completely occupied by the words of that maid, Ryn of the Swift Wind, whom he had encountered earlier.

(Me? Having feelings for Monica? She made it sound as if…)

——As if he were in love.

Every time he reached this conclusion, Cyril felt the blood draining from his entire body.

(No, that’s not possible. It can’t be.)

The memories of his childhood flashed through his mind. Every time Cyril witnessed his father berating his mother, he couldn’t help but think, “Why isn’t he kind to her?”

A loving relationship requires people to cherish each other, treating their partner with kindness. And yet…

(I was not kind to Monica.)

As Cyril reflected on his past actions, this truth only became more clear.

Their first meeting was simply terrible. Cyril had shouted at her and dragged her away chained in shackles of ice. Even ignoring that, every other word that came out of his mouth was an angry scolding.

Cyril remembered back to when Monica revealed her true identity. She had cried because she was so sorry for deceiving him. And yet, Cyril did not offer any kind words of comfort.

All he gave her was a stern reprimand: “How can a member of the student council act in such an unsightly manner!”

Cyril began his fourth lap through the corridor, slowing his pace slightly as he remembered the events at Sazandol. The plea Monica had whispered to him.

——”P-Please… don’t hate me.”

The second he remembered that moment, Cyril felt as though someone had put a clamp on his heart.

In hindsight, it was clear that Monica only said that because Cyril was constantly shouting at her in anger, rather than treating her with kindness.

(And yet, I have feelings for her?)

Cyril found the memory of Monica crying overlapped with the memory of his mother crying, abused by his father.

In a senpai-kohai relationship, scolding your junior when they did something wrong was only natural. But when it came to romance, Cyril realized that he had never shown Monica anything resembling kindness.

(In that case, wouldn’t it be better to keep our relationship the same as before?)

Cyril reached this conclusion at the end of his fifth lap, then decided to head to the venue of the social gathering. There was still some time before the scheduled start time, but arriving early was not an issue.

＊　＊　＊

The room for the social gathering of Library Society officials turned out to be a spacious salon.

Cyril had envisioned a slightly more casual business meeting, but there were no conference tables in the entire room. Instead, several sofas were arranged for guests to chat, along with tea and snacks.

Despite being about thirty minutes from the start time, there were already several Library Society members engaging in casual conversations.

“Hey, Cyril-kun!”

Someone playfully tapped Cyril’s shoulder. He turned around to see a young man with a cheerful smile. This was Cyril’s cousin, Curtis Ashley. His straight black hair and distinct eyes were reminiscent of Claudia’s.

“Curtis-niisan! It’s been a while.”

While Curtis was also a member of the Library Society, it had been quite some time since they last met.

“Hahaha,” Curtis laughed. “Yeah, I suppose so. I don’t attend many of the meetings, so I guess we kept missing each other. Unlike those annoying business meetings, I love social gatherings like this one!”

Most people would find this kind of statement distasteful.

However, Cyril had complete trust in his older cousin, so he believed that Curtis’s casual attitude was the secret to him being well-liked by so many people. And indeed, despite his carefree and irresponsible attitude, Curtis Ashley possessed an extensive social network.

Back when Cyril was taken in by the Ashley family, the ways of noble society felt completely alien to him.

Then, Curtis showed up and taught him everything he needed to know about noble society. This was why Cyril felt grateful to his cousin and considered him a reliable brother figure.

“Oh, I see your right arm and leg are moving separately again.”

“…Huh?”

Curtis swept his bangs aside in a pretentious gesture, then performed an overly dramatic wink.

“I saw you pacing around the corridor, and your right arm and leg were moving at the same time.”

“You saw that? I apologize if it seemed unsightly…”

“Hahaha, well, Queen Firis will be here today, so it’s natural to be nervous.”

Cyril had actually forgotten about this, so the reminder from Curtis caused him to tense up with anxiety again.

Queen Firis, who was the mother of the Third Prince, placed great emphasis on the preservation of the arts and cultural assets, so she maintained a close relationship with the Library Society. Entertaining her was one of today’s main goals, as she had recently supported the Library Society with a generous donation.

A few years ago, the nobles of Ridill had divided themselves into the First Prince Faction and the Second Prince Faction.

While the Third Prince technically possessed a faction as well, he did not garner much support because of his youth, as well as the political weakness of Queen Firis’s father, Marquis Ainsworth.

When Second Prince Felix Arc Ridill was suspected of being an impostor, there was a brief moment when Duke Crockford, the grandfather of the Second Prince, considered joining forces with the Third Prince Faction.

However, this plan fell apart once the Silent Witch proved the Second Prince’s innocence, causing Duke Crockford to lose much of his authority. And ultimately, the First Prince Faction emerged victorious.

In the aftermath, Queen Firis found herself in a poor position. She had lost her potential allies in the Second Prince Faction, and made enemies of the First Prince Faction. This explained why she was so desperate to solidify her position in the palace.

(Many members of the Library Society, including my foster father, favor neutrality… Queen Firis likely wants to ally herself with the neutral nobles.)

Cyril reminded himself to stay focused and avoid getting drawn into any political schemes. Meanwhile, Curtis examined Cyril’s outfit and pursed his lips.

“The tailoring isn’t bad, but it lacks sophistication. Cyril-kun, you need to add a bit more charm.”

“C-Charm, you say…?”

Cyril believed that both ‘sophistication’ and ‘charm’ were probably beyond him.

Just like Claudia, Curtis possessed a natural beauty, making him a strikingly handsome man.

His deep blue coat featured elaborate embroidery on the edges and buttonholes, with lace and frills peeking out from the cuffs. His scarf fastener was a glamorous piece adorned with large emeralds and diamonds.

Such flamboyant attire would normally stick out like a sore thumb, but perhaps his cool and friendly atmosphere allowed it to harmonize well.

“You’ve taken the trouble to grow your hair, so it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more playful,” Curtis continued.

“Playful…?”

At this point, Cyril had been reduced to a parrot who could only repeat what he was told.

Curtis put on a mischievous grin, circled around Cyril, and undid the tie on his hair.

“C-Curtis-niisan?”

“Haha, just leave it to me.”

Curtis promptly tied Cyril’s hair a bit higher than usual, around the level of his ears rather than the back of his neck. Then, he took one of the decorative ribbons from his own clothes and attached it to the hair tie.

“There we go, all done! Yep, I deserve a pat on the shoulder for my sense of style. Hahaha!”

Curtis seemed satisfied, but Cyril felt very anxious.

The tie being higher than usual made the back of his neck feel exposed, and the constant sensation of his hair being pulled was quite uncomfortable.

Cyril wanted to untie it, but he could not simply undo Curtis’s efforts. He lowered the hand that was unconsciously reaching for his hair tie, when he noticed a slight chuckle from behind.

“Hehe. Seems like you two get along well.”

Cyril turned around to see a petite woman adorned in a light blue dress with beautiful blonde hair. It was hard to get a read on her age; it seemed like she could be in her twenties or thirties.

She was Queen Firis, the main guest of the social gathering, as well as the mother of the Third Prince.

“Oh, Queen Firis, good day to you. I was reminded of the splendorous spring sky the moment I laid eyes on you, surely because of the warmth of your smile. You look incredibly beautiful today, as usual.”

Curtis flattered Queen Firis with a stream of compliments, causing Cyril to give him a look of admiration.

(Curtis-niisan is as impressive as always. I’ll never be able to deliver greetings like that.)

After paying his respects, Cyril performed his own greeting.

“I am truly honored to have the chance to meet you, Queen Firis. Please allow me to offer my greetings on behalf of my father, Marquis Highown.”

“Oh my, there is no need to be so formal. Today is a social gathering, after all.”

Queen Firis put on a coy smile as she spread out a fan decorated with flowers. She had a cute and charming atmosphere that made one want to protect her.

That said, this was the same woman who had managed to secure a marriage with the king in order to rebuild the declining House Ainsworth. Not to mention the courage it must have taken to join hands with Duke Crockford.

“I believe you two are cousins, yes?” Queen Firis continued. “Do you go out together often?”

Cyril seriously pondered the criteria for ‘going out together’. Was meeting a few times a year at tea parties and evening gatherings considered often enough?

Before the hesitant Cyril could open his mouth, Curtis offered a smooth response.

“We often bump into each other whenever the Ashley family gets together. That said, I prefer art appreciation to hunting. The other day, we went to the opera and…”

Curtis winked at Cyril. He was skillfully steering the conversation to make it easier for him to talk.

The trip to the opera was actually a year and a half ago, but Cyril silently thanked his cousin regardless.

“Yes,” Cyril followed. “Curtis-dono has always treated me well.”

“Hehe,” Queen Firis laughed. “In that case, how would you feel about attending a tea party of mine? You know how the rose season is approaching, yes? I plan to hold a tea party with close relatives before the garden party.”

Once the roses were in season, a large-scale garden party would be held in the palace courtyard. This was a major event which marked the beginning of the social season.

However, Queen Firis was inviting them to a tea party before that.

(A tea party with close relatives? Is it really okay for me to accept that invitation? …Or is it just a courtesy offer that I should decline?)

As Cyril hesitated in his response, Queen Firis continued with a gentle smile.

“I have two cousins that I want to introduce. You should be about the same age, so I’m sure you’ll get along well.”

Cyril found himself at a loss for words.

(Could it be…?)

Noticing Cyril’s stiff expression, Curtis replied in a hushed tone.

“Setting up marriage partners for us, huh? Well, if being popular is a crime, then I’m a major criminal.”

“…”

They were dealing with a queen. An improper refusal could lead to significant complications.

Even so, the current Cyril couldn’t fathom being engaged to anyone. For a moment, a fleeting image appeared in his mind——a girl twiddling her fingers with a nervous smile.

(No. Monica is completely unrelated. This is a problem for me and me alone…)

“Excuse me.”

The voice coming from the entrance made his heart skip a beat.

Cyril recognized that voice, but it wasn’t the usual hesitant and stuttering one. It was the clear and resonant tone he had heard during the festival at Rainfield.

He turned around to see Monica, dressed in the robe of the Seven Sages. She stood firmly with good posture, looking straight back at him.

Her usually downcast gaze revealed light brown eyes that occasionally took on a greenish tint when reflecting the sunlight, just like it did right now.

Cyril stared into the sparkling green of her eyes, feeling a feverish heat developing at the back of his head.

“I have an urgent message for Cyril Ashley-sama. May I have a moment with him?”

Monica confidently declared her business right in front of the queen.

Cyril glanced at Queen Firis and Curtis, then bowed his head.

“…Please excuse me, Queen Firis, Curtis-dono. I will step out for a moment.”

Cyril excused himself and walked towards Monica.

Perhaps it was something that could not be discussed in public, as Monica gestured for Cyril to follow her into the corridor.

While following Monica, Cyril pressed a hand against his noisy heart.

(Calm down… Calm down, Cyril Wayne. I have to act with the composure of a senior…)

Having messed up his own name, his efforts to remain calm were clearly in vain. No matter how many times he told himself to calm down, his heart rate refused to comply. He was also oblivious to how red his face was getting.

Once they had reached an area with no people, Monica stopped and, without saying a word, turned to Cyril.

Her youthful face broke down as she looked up at Cyril with tears in her eyes. This only caused Cyril’s heart to beat even faster.

“Cyril-sama, this is terrible! Terrible! Thule, where is Thule?!”

“…”

Cyril regained his composure in an instant.

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