MLRLM 08

Chapter 8 ….

The Two Sons of the Völreuvan (2)

The next day, Duke Völreuvan alternated holding his two sons. At that moment, Timeo found his father’s embrace far more frightening than his older brother’s harsh words. After setting Timeo down, Duke Völreuvan once again pulled Marcel, who stood composed, into a hug—a peculiar embrace filled with both strength and affection. Around that time, Timeo vaguely realized one thing: he would never receive such an embrace.

“People easily admire what floats in the sky,” the Duke said.

Timeo glanced at his father, his face tense.

“Even when the sun’s radiance is too bright, or when it fades, it still becomes the subject of conversation.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Marcel, as a member of the Völreuvan family, you must carry yourself with even more dignity from now on. Your actions now reflect not only on the Völreuvans but also on the honor of the Menezes.”

“Yes.”

Timeo’s eyes widened. Why did the poor Menezes’ honor matter…? He alternated his gaze between his brother and father. Feeling Timeo’s stare, Marcel smiled brightly and shyly smoothed the back of his hair.

“Timeo, I’m going to be engaged to the Menezes’ daughter.”

Timeo didn’t know what expression to make. He awkwardly raised his hands to clap but, feeling absolutely no joy, turned around and bolted down the corridor like a sewer rat. His father’s voice criticizing his rudeness and Marcel’s voice, hinting that Marcel too probably had feelings for Phyllis, followed him like shadows. It felt as if someone had burst the excitement he’d carried all day. He curled up beneath the large tree where he had spent the day with Phyllis. What hurt most was the realization that no one would look for him, the second son of the Völreuvans. Everyone insisted that Marcel would marry some distant girl. When Timeo heard that, he felt sorry for the girl still in the womb.

“If you really like her, I’ll have her.”

Marcel’s words echoed in his mind. He felt ashamed for even briefly imagining that Phyllis might prefer him over Marcel. Shame and frustration flushed his face.

“Timeo.”

Timeo hastily wiped his tears. Marcel was standing in front of him. The same brother who once found Timeo hiding under a table now spoke: he could always find Timeo, because Timeo was his possession.

“Didn’t I tell you? You can’t have anything. You can’t covet anything recklessly. Everything in Brzule, down to the last blade of grass, is mine.”

“You…!”

You already have everything, Timeo’s mind whispered. Sitting beside him, Marcel used his sleeve to wipe Timeo’s face. Anyone watching would have mistaken them for inseparable, affectionate brothers.

“By the way, Phyllis didn’t specially like you.”

“…What?”

“She said she could pick either of the two Völreuvan sons.”

“That can’t be…”

“Timeo, I’m going to marry Phyllis and have lots of children.”

“Lies!”

“Calm down and listen. I’ll also have a big dog, and in summer, we’ll enjoy the sea at Banyollet, attend plays and operas. You’ll guard Brzule alone, without a title or a wife. Doesn’t that suit your temperament?”

Marcel’s arms, gently draped around Timeo’s shoulders, felt unbearably cruel. Timeo sprang up and forcefully pushed Marcel’s arms away. His elbow struck Marcel’s face, and the older boy fell sideways, blood streaming from his nose.

“You dare hit your brother?”

Timeo froze, unable to speak. At that moment, a servant wandering the garden found Timeo and slowly approached, only to gasp at the sight of the noble young master lying in the bushes, bleeding. Marcel, struck for the first time by his younger brother, looked dazed. Timeo shut his eyes tightly.

Since Marcel was the eldest son, Duke Völreuvan reacted strictly to Timeo hitting his younger brother. While sibling quarrels were common, Marcel’s weak health meant the Duke was genuinely disappointed in his second son. Consequently, Timeo, nine years old, was confined to his room and punished with ten days of strict seclusion, including his birthday.

The ten days brought peace. With no contact with Marcel, Timeo gradually regained his usual gentle nature. Occasionally, their nanny, Marti, would sneak in treats or bring news from outside.

Marcel had recently held another recital, which the Menezes had attended. The maids had dried summer flowers throughout the estate. “Shall I put a bouquet in your room too, Timeo?” Marti asked kindly, but he shook his head.

“There will be a banquet tomorrow.”

“Is it for my birthday?”

“…Marcel and the Menezes lady pledged their engagement. It’ll be a celebration banquet.”

“I see.”

“When your confinement ends, the Duke will surely celebrate your birthday too.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Tomorrow, I’ll secretly bring your favorite treat.”

Marti tried to meet his eyes, but Timeo couldn’t lift his gaze. Did Phyllis really say, “You can pick either of the Völreuvan sons”? Though she often seemed tired of their meetings, she didn’t seem like someone who would lie. She had taught Timeo how to weave flower crowns and climb trees without being seen by Marcel. Phyllis clearly took an interest in Timeo.

“Marti…”

“Yes?”

“Instead of a treat, I want to see Phyllis as a gift.”

“You mean the Menezes lady? She’ll be at the banquet tomorrow, so it won’t be difficult…”

“Can you secretly bring her here?”

“…I’ll try if I can.”

Hours later, Timeo woke at dawn, waiting for Phyllis all day. He ate by the door, tried reading while listening to outside sounds, and set out precious toys he had hidden to impress her. Yet beyond the door, all remained silent.

Leaning against the wall and dozing off, Timeo was startled when something struck the window. Who could it be on this floor? Looking down nervously, he saw Phyllis Menezes, a thick book tucked under her arm, looking up at his window. Piles of paper were scattered at her feet.

“Good afternoon, Timeo.”

“Phyllis…!”

“I’m not very patient. If you hadn’t opened the window in five minutes, I might have thrown the book.”

“J-just kidding?”

“Yes. Are you okay? Marcel said you had a fever, but it seems that was a lie. Did your father scold you?”

Timeo’s eyes welled up, grateful that Phyllis understood without him explaining. He simply nodded.

“Um, Phyllis… congratulations on the engagement.”

“Thanks. I’m not that happy, though.”

“Not happy? Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You… wanted to get engaged to me?”

“Something like that.”

“Really?”

Seeing Timeo’s face light up, Phyllis touched her forehead. Misunderstandings required more than ten words to resolve. She stepped closer to the window.

“Timeo.”

“Yes?”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t be stuck in that room.”

“Then…?”

“Not many know that Marcel has been seriously ill. The ‘story’ you told me—I’ll reveal it to everyone.”

“To everyone? But that’s a secret.”

“You told me.”

“Right…”

“As we grow up, there won’t be many chances when everyone gathers together.”

“I… I see.”

“A loyal maid will probably be looking for me now, so I should go. And…”

“Yes?”

“Happy birthday, Timeo.”

His father always kept Marcel’s illness secret from the nobles, claiming it would vanish when Marcel came of age. Yet Timeo saw Marcel grow weaker each season. Timeo created a fever to avoid socializing, while Marcel was treated as the healthy guest of honor. This made him furious and determined.

Fire!

Someone shouted. Guests hurried outside, but all was quiet. The sudden appearance of guests in the garden left the gardener flustered.

The hallway was silent. Doors opened easily. Timeo stopped by the parlor and picked up a bouquet of dried flowers the maids had arranged. He walked lightly, wanting to make Marcel, the praised boy, appear pitiful, if only for a moment—just like himself.

Children from the recital worriedly surrounded Marcel. The maids, seeing the sudden appearance of the second son, were hesitant. Noble guests quietly admired Timeo, who had come to celebrate Marcel’s engagement despite his own high fever.

“Marcel.”

Marcel’s expression stiffened. Having lost much weight in his last seizure, he seemed fragile and ethereal. His blue eyes wavered faintly.

“Here to congratulate me on my engagement? Thanks, Timeo. But there’s a big fire.”

“Yes.”

“But those flowers… Timeo, you shouldn’t give dried flowers to someone alive.”

“Why not?”

Marcel seemed to carefully choose his words, aware of his surroundings. The Menezes and Phyllis stood a short distance away. Timeo shivered. Duke Völreuvan, noticing Timeo, hurried toward the brothers.

“It’s because I’ve been sick for a long time, right?”

“Timeo.”

“Marcel has been very ill since childhood. During severe attacks, he wouldn’t even play with me… right? That’s why receiving dried flowers is scary? Afraid of becoming like Mother?”

Timeo could have excused his delirious talk as feverish nonsense. But Duke Völreuvan quickly seized him, and it was no longer nonsense. Nobles at the banquet whispered among themselves. Their gazes moved from Timeo, to Marcel, to Phyllis standing with the Menezes. It was unusual that the eldest son again chose a girl from outside the family.

Even as he was dragged farther from the garden, Timeo couldn’t stop smiling. For the first time, he had seen Marcel embarrassed. The Völreuvan’s hereditary disease must have been a closely guarded secret. Timeo found pleasure in watching a small group of children drift away from Marcel.

“Father.”

“Timeo, say nothing now.”

“Will you hit me this time?”

“What?”

“Like Marcel did—strangle me, push me by the window, tear my picture books… I’m just my brother’s toy anyway.”

Duke Völreuvan’s grip on Timeo’s wrist loosened. Escaping, Timeo ran. Marcel always warned that if Timeo ever rebelled, he would be cast into the streets, forced to crawl on the ground eating stale bread among vagrants. Timeo would forget he was once the second son of the Völreuvans.

Timeo collided forcefully with a child his age in the corridor. Unlike Timeo, the other child could not get up for a while. As Timeo cautiously stepped back…

“…Can you help me up? I think I twisted my ankle.”

“Phyllis…!”

Despite their rough collision, Phyllis smiled brightly. She asked if he enjoyed the fire show.

“You were amazing.”

“Me? Really?”

“Yes.”

“By the way, Phyllis, I might get punished…”

“I might too, for causing a commotion.”

The chapter captures the intense rivalry, jealousy, and budding emotions of Timeo as he struggles with his brother Marcel’s engagement and the attention Marcel receives.