PT | Chapter 5.3

Amon posed the question while glancing at Lennock sitting across from him.

With Aubrey gone, the two were left alone, making the atmosphere uncomfortably awkward. Amon was known for his sociability at the Toroso Academy, but that required some reciprocity. One can’t just talk to a wall.

Yet, Amon wasn’t ordinary. Otherwise, he wouldn’t keep staring so intently at Lennock, who showed little interest in him.

Normally, someone would feel uncomfortable and ask, “Why are you staring at me like that?” Or the one staring would look away. However, neither of them adopted such typical reactions. It was Amon who broke the silence first.

“Did you know? Ever since we entered this shop, people have been staring only at you.”

“…”

Only then did Lennock’s calm gaze shift to Amon.

“When we entered, a cashier even gasped a little, didn’t you notice?”

“…I wasn’t really paying attention, so I didn’t notice.”

“That figures. You’ve always been rather stoic.”

Which explained how he could sit so calmly drinking tea amidst such intense scrutiny.

They couldn’t just sit in the carriage waiting for Aubrey to return, so they moved to the largest and finest restaurant in the bustling area. Normally a reservation was necessary, but Amon’s name quickly secured them a prime table. However, the prime location meant they were very much in public view.

Amon, with his handsome features and affable nature, had many admirers at the academy. Even alone, he would have drawn attention, but now with Lennock, considered the most handsome in Toroso, their presence turned heads even more. Guests in the hall and those leaving the restaurant stopped to stare.

Amon thought, the intense public interest was not surprising.

He sipped his tea, using the opportunity to gaze at the young man across from him, who seemed crafted by divine effort. The tea tasted unusually sweet as Amon murmured to himself.

“It feels like just yesterday that there was buzz about a stunningly beautiful boy enrolling, and now here he is, all grown up into a fine man. Just sitting there draws a crowd; if he could use that to his advantage, but our junior Mr. Lennock is too reserved.”

“…”

“Ah, but I don’t see that as a flaw. If a flower only smells sweet, it soon attracts those who would spoil it. In that sense, it’s good that Aubrey is with you.”

Amon raised his cup slightly with a light smile.

“Even a stoic, icy angel seems to soften in front of his brother.”

“…I don’t recall ever doing that.”

“Just mentioning Aubrey seems to get a reaction out of you, doesn’t it?”

Setting down his teacup, Amon leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

“Aubrey is one of the few things you react to, isn’t he?”

“…”

Amon was playful, not really needing a response, his eyes curving like crescent moons in a generally appealing way. However, Lennock felt a chill from Amon’s scrutinizing gaze, as if digging into his secrets.

The subtle coercion to get the desired response was uncomfortable. The simplest way to avoid such discomfort was silence and turning away. Meanwhile, a minor incident in the restaurant eased Lennock’s tension a bit.

Clang.

The sound of a plate breaking inside turned Amon’s head in that direction. Squinting his eyes, he clicked his tongue.

“A child broke a dish. At least they don’t seem badly hurt.”

Lennock was typically indifferent to others. But despite his lack of interest, he slightly turned his head at Amon’s comment. There, two children stood side by side, watching as a restaurant employee cleaned up the broken dish.

It seemed the children had broken the dish while playing during their meal, prompting a parent to scold, “You’re making it hard for these people because of your actions.” Their faces crumpled as if they were about to cry.

“They must be siblings. Maybe a 3 or 4-year age gap. Even if not Irish twins, siblings seldom have a quiet day, right?”

“…”

In Toroso, the Wiidin marquis family was known for many siblings. However, the oldest three had a different mother than the other two, one of whom was a child with no ties to the family brought from somewhere else. The situation was complicated enough, and their relationships were far from amicable, not just something that could be described as “never a quiet day”.

Lennock’s childhood was marked by endless bruises. The haughty nobles of the marquis estate considered him an insect to be eradicated.

On his first day, he had to shiver in a dark, cramped room shunned even by the servants; from the second day, he faced Gray’s brutal violence. Lennock was just five, malnourished and smaller than his age, while Gray was seven years older and well over 150 cm tall.

Gray beat Lennock mercilessly, not considering his age or size. Each punch and kick felt like it broke bones and tore flesh, and when he spat out blood, Lennock thought he would die. But he did not.

Day after day, he was beaten yet still clung to life by a breath. No one among the employees, who feared Gray as a tyrant, helped him.

The unspoken condoning of violence escalated beyond limits.

“Today I’ll finally get rid of you…!”

Like any other day, Gray grabbed Lennock by the feet as he huddled on the floor. Thinking it was truly the end, Lennock tried to resist, but it was futile. He tried to grab something, anything, which irritated Gray.

“You…!!”

Unleashed violence rained down on him.

Why doesn’t repeated pain become familiar? Knowing it only made it more terrifying and unbearable. Resentful of those who wouldn’t help, Lennock curled up as usual, the only way he knew to protect himself.

That day wasn’t just Gray; another joined in. Though not as forceful as Gray, the kicks were agonizing.

Ah, I really want to end it all.

With that thought, a dull thud resounded, followed by a sharp sound of something shattering. Lennock flinched and curled up smaller.

The kicks that seemed like they would never stop were replaced by silence.

What’s happened? Should I look up? What if they kick my face?

As he hesitated, someone gasped and shouted.

“Young Master Aubrey! What on earth…!”

With that startled cry, the silence broke, and a mix of alarmed voices filled the air. Finally realizing something had happened, Lennock cautiously lowered his arms from his face. Gray, hunched over, was glaring somewhere. Lennock shifted his gaze slightly to follow Gray’s.

There, he saw a child with skin as pale as porcelain, eyes like a slice of the night sky, and long hair.

“…”

The child’s eyes and expression were full of venom, yet he seemed too weak to stand on his own. But still, he stood defiantly, and Gray grumbled.

“…Why is this corpse here?”

“A corpse? Sounds more like you should be in a coffin.”

The child’s lips curled up defiantly.

Lennock had never seen anyone talk back or act this way towards Gray, who was nearly a figure of terror in the estate. Stunned, he watched as Gray reached back to touch his head, then brought his hand down. Seeing the blood smeared on his palm, Lennock finally noticed the debris scattered around.

Realizing what had happened, Gray bent down to inspect the broken vase and flowers on the floor, understanding why his head was throbbing and bleeding. Gray’s face twisted.

“This crazy bastard…”

Gray staggered and then collapsed.

“Brother!”

“Young Master Gray…!!”

While people had stood idly by as Lennock was mercilessly beaten, they rushed in as if a grave disaster had struck the moment Gray collapsed. It seemed the few drops of blood from Gray’s head were more important to them. No one cared for Lennock, who was bruised all over and had a swollen face from the beating.

Perhaps because of that incident, Gray had been absent for a while. However, the neglect Lennock experienced at the estate remained unchanged. His meals were provided regularly, but he received no care for his wounds. Although Gray’s violence had ceased, the beatings Lennock had endured had left him in a grave condition.

Yet, as days passed, Lennock’s body healed as if on its own; the bruises lightened, and the swelling subsided. It seemed he might fully recover in a few more days. He wondered if people would stare strangely at him again, perhaps starting even worse harassment than before.

The thought of enduring Gray’s violence again made Lennock tremble. He didn’t want to go through it again, struggling to get out of bed not because he had a specific plan, but feeling compelled to do something. He had been unable to even lift his head while being beaten, but now he could stand and walk.

Maybe he could escape the estate this time.

At that moment, any place without Gray seemed preferable.

Lennock looked up. The door, which had been closed all day except at meal times, opened. Creaking on its hinges, a tall man stood there, hands clasped behind his back, not stepping inside, just looking down at Lennock.

“…”

For a brief moment, their gazes met, and Lennock recalled who he was.

When he had first arrived, he had been taken to a grand room with a large desk, behind which sat a man—the Marquis of Wiidin.

As Lennock remembered the man’s presence, the marquis spoke.

“You still look filthy and pitiful. Covered in dirt and blood everywhere.”

There was a faint disgust in his tone, which seemed almost like muttering to himself. The butler who had accompanied the marquis fumbled with his hands, clearly at a loss.

“I apologize. It is entirely my fault.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s my fault for not managing my own child properly.”

“No, sir. There is nothing wrong with you or the young masters. It’s entirely because…”

“It’s because I brought a child here who shouldn’t have been.”

Lennock knew he was that child who ‘shouldn’t have been brought here.’ The butler, agreeing silently, closed his mouth and said nothing more.

The atmosphere in the Wiidin estate was tense, as if it could snap at any moment. The marquis’s wife had been in poor health, worsening rapidly after Aubrey’s arrival. Betrayed by her husband whom she had loved and trusted, she had collapsed.

Yet, considering the children, she had struggled on until Lennock appeared. Of course, the marquis claimed Lennock was not his child and that he had taken him in as a favor to an acquaintance, but suspicions were possible. Therefore, from the beginning, the butler had instructed the servants to ensure that nothing about Lennock reached the marquis’s wife’s ears.