YW | Chapter 1.2

That’s why he hoped the rumors from the most wretched part of the territory weren’t true. No, he thought they couldn’t be true.

When those damned vagrants first reported to the journalists that they had found Wecker’s star eyes, he thought it was just nonsense since no new star eyes had appeared in the family. Until he heard that his sister Diana’s star eyes had faded.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. Since star eyes were passed down only through Wecker’s direct line, he assumed one of his two sons would have them.

The situation became serious when he heard that neither Anskar nor Arnoute had the star eyes.

It was impossible. Star eyes never faded without a new owner appearing, so one of them should have had them. Duke Wecker searched even the collateral lines thoroughly, but he found no stars or anything similar.

In an era where magic was disappearing, he couldn’t lose one of the few remaining blessings, so he reluctantly recalled the newspaper report and immediately brought Liriel.

And this was the result.

He was so angry he could hardly breathe.

There was no one he could guess to be the mother based on the child’s age or appearance. Like any nobleman, he frequented brothels as part of social life, and he couldn’t count the number of times he had left his seed. He always ensured there were no repercussions, but it seemed there was one piece of trash he hadn’t dealt with.

He didn’t know which prostitute’s womb had borne him, but the child was incredibly lucky. If the mother had come to him using the child as leverage, he would have beheaded them both immediately, but as things stood, he had to keep the beggar alive until the next generation’s star eyes appeared.

He couldn’t just lock him up or ignore him. The beggars’ report had already spread the existence of the new star eyes and the name “Liriel” in the newspapers, so there was only one choice from the start.

To register that foolish boy with a girl’s name in the Wecker family.

The thought alone was unbearably shameful.

If only the star eyes weren’t a living talisman. If only he were a typical illegitimate child with star eyes. He wouldn’t have felt such a sense of humiliation.

His downward gaze was filled with disdain and disgust. He felt nauseated and didn’t want to see him.

“Lock him up somewhere and at least make him able to hold a conversation.”

The duke, clutching his throbbing head, kicked Liriel’s side. The sudden impact made the small body roll over a couple of times, vomit, and faint. Even that sight was like watching a bug crawl.

“Filthy brat.”

Thinking he should burn everything he wore today, the duke turned his back. It was truly a dreadful day.

⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚

Liriel woke up in a room so large he couldn’t even see the patterns on the far wall. Somehow, he smelled nice, as if he had been washed. Carefully lifting his arm, he saw a clean forearm. The grime from wandering the streets for so long hadn’t completely disappeared, leaving some stains, but it was the first time he’d seen his hand so white. Fascinated, Liriel clenched and unclenched his fist, shaking off the remnants of sleep.

His side ached, confirming that last night’s events weren’t a dream. His once quiet heart began to race again.

He buried his face in the soft blanket. The smooth fabric smelled like sunshine. He squirmed deeper into the bed, but it didn’t collapse, nor did the blanket tear.

Next time he met them, he vowed to ask properly without stuttering.

But, contrary to his resolve, Liriel never saw them again. Many people approached him, but those he assumed to be his family did not. Moreover, the people who came to him were all strange.

At first, he was simply amazed to sleep in a warm place and eat proper food, but now the way people watched him made him a bit scared.

No one here spoke to him.

They just carried out their tasks like emotionless dolls, showing no sign of treating him as a person.

No matter what Liriel did, they neither got annoyed nor angry.

One day, he decided not to eat, and until he picked up his spoon, a dozen people stood motionless in front of him. The empty eyes watching him in silence gave him chills. Eventually, Liriel had to surrender after half a day.

Once he regained some strength and could stand, people finally began to teach him. How to hold a fork and knife, how to greet, how to dress—basic things. But even then, they only spoke when necessary, and if Liriel said anything unrelated to his lessons, they would fall silent and stop moving.

Time passed agonizingly slowly in this suffocating situation.

After about half a year, Liriel could hold a spoon with proper manners, and by two years, his hair, which had been shaved off because it couldn’t be cleaned, had grown to cover the back of his neck. Three years later, when he could finally speak in proper sentences, he was allowed to leave the stifling annex.

It was a relief. Another year in that place might have driven him mad.

Even as he was suddenly taken away, Liriel paid little attention to the ornate decorations in the hallway or the curious glances directed at him. His mind was filled only with the anticipation of meeting his family again. With a trembling heart, Liriel cautiously opened his lips upon reaching the office.

“Hello, Your Grace, the Duke.”

The greeting he had practiced countless times flowed smoothly. The duke replied indifferently, his eyes fixed on his papers.

“It took you long enough to look presentable.”

“I’m sorry.”

His pronunciation had improved thanks to sleepless nights of hard study, but his poor vocabulary and stuttering were hard to fix.

The duke clicked his tongue at his inadequacy.

“It’s more than you deserve, but I’ll assign Sir Burnel to you.”

A fleeting glance touched Liriel.

At least he doesn’t look like a beggar now.

His silver hair, untouched by dirt, and skin kept from the sun looked somewhat noble. Yet, Liriel still couldn’t meet his eyes, clasping his hands tightly.

The duke sighed softly.

Nothing was satisfactory. Cleaning up took longer than expected, and even after all the effort, this was the result.

No matter how decent he looked, he was still a beggar by birth. Expecting more was arrogance.

Still, there was a limit to keeping the star eyes locked away in the annex, so he decided to be content for now. He had no intention of presenting Liriel properly anyway. If problems arose, he thought it might be better to cut Liriel’s vocal cords and waved his hand dismissively.

“Leave.”

Liriel’s shoulders tensed. He knew more words than three years ago, yet he found it harder to speak.

Why is this happening?

He had longed for a family, yet he couldn’t say a word. When Liriel didn’t move, a servant forcibly dragged him away. Unable to resist properly, he left, unable to hide his confusion.

It was Sir Burnel who later revealed the truth to him.

He was the youngest son of the Wecker family, with twin brothers five years older, and the duchess had died giving birth to them.

Then who is my mother?

Liriel released his pent-up curiosity, and Sir Burnel answered most questions but remained silent about his mother.

The new room they arrived at after a long walk was much more luxurious than the previous one, yet it felt stifling. The chandelier and furniture, clearly made from expensive materials, seemed too valuable to touch, and it was obvious they weren’t prepared for Liriel.

It didn’t take long for Liriel to realize this place was just another kind of prison. Nothing had changed from the annex. His movements were restricted, and his family never visited.

The only difference was that people here showed excessive interest in him, unlike those in the annex. They mocked or scorned him for anything he did, reacting exaggeratedly to even minor actions.

If he accidentally held his fork and knife the wrong way, several servants would burst into laughter, and if he dropped something, one would deliberately bow low to pick it up mockingly. Naturally, Liriel, already cautious, became even more withdrawn.

After enduring all this for several days, Liriel couldn’t last two weeks and pleaded with Sir Burnel.

“I want to see my brothers.”

“It’s not a good idea.”

Liriel felt he was on the brink of madness. So he clung to Sir Burnel, the only person who spoke to him, and cried.

“I’ll study harder. I’ll do everything I’m taught. Please.”

“I told you it’s not a good idea.”

His expression was indifferent, his tone negative. His sighing lips were stiff with annoyance, and his eyes were sharp with irritation. Yet, surprisingly, the next day, Sir Burnel led Liriel to the training ground where his brothers were. Liriel, bewildered, followed him into the dusty area.

Seeing two heads of dark blue hair, Liriel’s face broke into a smile for the first time in a long while. Without hesitation, he ran to them. His muscles felt awkward from disuse, but the thrill was exhilarating.

The taller one was Anskar, and the slightly shorter one was Arnoute, right?

While Liriel had grown only a couple of inches, the brothers seemed to have grown nearly three. Watching them, Liriel’s chest heaved. It wasn’t just from running. The excitement and joy of reuniting with his family swelled within him.

Two indifferent gazes landed on Liriel. The brothers’ eyes, which he once thought similar, actually had a slightly duller hue. They looked much cooler than his pale eyes.

“Ah, hello.”

His voice trembled pathetically.

Did I look foolish?

Contrary to Liriel’s worry, Arnoute’s face broke into a smile.

“So, your name is Liriel?”

“Yes, yes. You’re Arnoute, right?”

Arnoute burst into laughter. The way Liriel emphasized each syllable was pitiful. Even after three years, he hadn’t mastered the noble accent. His pronunciation was neither commoner nor noble, just strange.

This kid is ridiculous, from his name to everything he does.

Arnoute raised his hand lightly. The movement was so graceful that no one anticipated what followed.

“Ah, don’t call me brother. I’m not immune to filth. I don’t want to associate with someone born from a whore.”

It’s amusing, but arrogance is something else.

Liriel, unable to grasp the situation, froze.

“Handkerchief, please.”

Arnoute wiped his hand with the handkerchief swiftly offered by a servant. The sight of blood trickling from Liriel’s nose, without even a proper hit, was disgustingly pathetic. If he knew it would bleed this much, he would have aimed for the stomach.

Liriel, with a dazed mind, pieced together his thoughts.

Why is my head turned?

Ah, I got hit.

What did he just say? Whore… He said whore.

He had heard the word “whore” often since childhood. Most women in the back alleys where he lived were called that. He didn’t know exactly what they did, but they were treated as the lowest among the low.

No wonder no one told him about his mother. His birth was too shameful to mention.

He didn’t think he felt sad, yet tears flowed. His slapped cheek throbbed, but strangely, his chest, untouched, ached sharply.

Watching the pale Liriel, Burnel sighed quietly.

He had expected this.

He knew the second young master’s temper well and had a rough idea of Liriel’s character, so he anticipated this outcome.