YW | Chapter 1.3

Even under the cold gaze of Anskar, who was watching him intently, Burnel thought he might face harsher punishment than expected, but he didn’t regret it. It was necessary at some point.

Burnel’s reason for orchestrating this wasn’t out of sympathy for the pitiful third young master’s plea. Liriel, already mentally eroded from being confined in the annex for so long, seemed ready to do something drastic if his desires weren’t met. It was better to make him face reality quickly than to push him to the brink and lose control. So today’s choice was the right one.

In truth, Burnel found all of this extremely tiresome and annoying. He was a knight, not a nanny. Liriel Wecker’s feelings or pain were none of his concern, and he desperately wanted to return to his original duties. He hoped that this incident would break Liriel Wecker’s spirit and prevent further trouble. If so, he might feel a bit less angry.

“Let’s go back, young master.”

“But.”

Liriel bit his lip and looked up, but when he met Sir Burnel’s irritated eyes, he immediately stopped breathing. Fear gripped him. Burnel was the only one who spoke to him, and if he annoyed him further, he might stop dealing with him altogether. In the end, Liriel clenched his hands and bowed his head deeply.

“I’ll see you next time.”

His voice dripped with regret, and everyone knew it, but no one else in the room felt the same.

Back in his prison-like room, Liriel fell ill for a week. No one knew if it was from the slap or the exertion of running, but no one cared.

When he closed his eyes, he was alone, and when he opened them, he was still alone. It felt like being surrounded by walls. Helpless.

The people here didn’t even bother to properly despise or torment him. To them, Liriel was worthless except for his slightly sparkling eyes, and there was no reason to expect more.

Suddenly, tears burst forth. His dry lips cracked, tasting of blood. Something hot surged inside him. Despite having eaten nothing, a bitter taste filled his mouth. It was the taste of despair.

It seemed impossible to be treated as a proper person here. Yet, Liriel lacked the courage to escape.

He pulled the blanket over his head. He wanted to disappear from the world.

As he sank deeper, struggling to breathe, Liriel clenched his teeth and made a vow.

If they don’t want me, I’ll make them want me.

If I’m lacking, then I’ll become someone who isn’t.

Once I become someone they need, they’ll love me too.

That way, I can surely become part of their family.

“I am a ‘Wecker,’ after all.”

So surely, it will be possible.

From now on, he just had to prove his worth with all his might. There was no need to cry sadly or suffer in silence.

In the silent room, Liriel repeated this to himself, and afterward, he devoted himself day and night to what was given to him, as if to prove his desperation.

Meanwhile, time passed relentlessly.

It was the spring of his twentieth year.

⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚

Some miracles come without warning.

It was a day when the starlight in his eyes shone painfully bright. On that day, when the star eyes he usually forgot about asserted their presence, the unwanted truth of the star eyes settled into Liriel’s mind.

There were no signs or peculiarities. The truth came to him just by opening his eyes and breathing.

So, as soon as Liriel opened his eyes, he slipped on his shoes and walked aimlessly through the silent garden. The sky was dotted with light clouds, and cherry blossoms just beginning to bloom scattered in the air. It was a peaceful and beautiful scene.

Nothing had changed in eight years. Despite his frantic efforts to prove his worth, he remained an ordinary person, unable to match the family members’ talents. He had no gifts. Even after sleepless nights, nosebleeds, and hunger, nothing changed.

Every night ended with him sobbing until he fainted. He tried visiting his father or brothers, but after a few times, they stopped mocking or hitting him. They ignored his existence as if he had never been. No matter how he spoke or prostrated himself, he couldn’t gain their attention. He preferred the days when he was slapped.

He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed. He had been so excited about having a family that he couldn’t sleep, but now he didn’t even know what he truly wanted.

As he reached out, pink petals piled up in his palm.

He had vaguely thought he was born on a harsh winter day. A day when his fingertips were numb from the cold, and his breath frosted white, leaving no room for warmth. So he believed he wasn’t abandoned because they wanted to.

But he was wrong. His birthday was a warm spring day when he could grasp a handful of petals, and his parents abandoned him because he was useless.

Where did it all go wrong?

Perhaps he was wrong from the moment he was born.

He bowed his head. Just that made the once blue world a mire.

The sky was far, and the ground was close. That was Liriel’s life.

The starlight in his tear-filled pink eyes sparkled. A piece of his heart crumbled. When he closed his eyes, silent tears fell.

The star eyes, known as living talismans, had a secret unknown to anyone. They could fulfill their owner’s most desperate wish once, in any form.

A desperate wish. A lifelong dream. Did I ever have such a thing?

A self-deprecating smile appeared and quickly vanished.

After what felt like an eternity, Liriel’s lips opened on their own.

“I want to be loved by my family.”

Only after saying it did he realize that this was all he had ever wanted.

For a first birthday, it was miserably pathetic.

⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚

In both symbolic and practical terms, the Wecker family was the most powerful in the empire.

The current duke was an exceptionally talented politician, and his twin sons, born to a noble marquess’s daughter, were geniuses. The territory was peaceful, the harvests bountiful, and gold filled the storerooms.

When a child with Wecker’s star eyes appeared eight years ago, it caused a stir, but only briefly.

Liriel Wecker was as insignificant and timid as his name suggested, with nothing noteworthy except his star eyes. He couldn’t assert himself and couldn’t do more than what he was taught. It was natural for such a halfwit to fade from people’s memories.

That’s why no one anticipated his rebellion.

It was a day just beginning to step into summer.

Standing in the middle of the duke’s office, Liriel Wecker wore a satisfied expression and smiled faintly. Watching him, Duke Wecker, who was gripping a newspaper tightly not far away, stood up and shouted.

“Do you know what you’ve done?”

The duke, who rarely raised his voice, caused everyone in the office to hold their breath. Even as they trembled and watched, they couldn’t help but glance at the excited Duke Wecker and the calm Liriel Wecker.

To the servants who had served the family for a long time, this was a curious sight. The duke, known for his composure, was visibly agitated, and the young master, usually restless, was calm.

Has the third young master finally gone mad?

The servants’ emotions hovered between anxiety and intrigue.

“I’m quite the law-abiding citizen.”

Liriel shrugged and then smiled brightly. Dimples appeared on his white cheeks. The servants, secretly watching him, were taken aback by the unfamiliar sight.

His eyes, which vanished and reappeared, and the way he tilted his head naturally made him seem like a completely different person.

“I’m questioning your sanity.”

“According to imperial law, all direct family members must be named in the will and receive imperial certification. Though I don’t know whose womb I came from, you acknowledged me as a direct descendant, didn’t you?”

How much debt had he incurred to exclude Liriel Wecker from the will? Duke Wecker couldn’t believe this halfwit had shattered the long, tedious process in an instant.

“Do you think I’d share Wecker with a bastard like you?”

“Legally, you just need to put my name in the will. You don’t have to leave me anything.”

The duke’s insides twisted at his casual tone. Including Liriel Wecker in the will wasn’t difficult. He could give him a few mines or borderlands and draft a will formally. It wasn’t a complicated process, either procedurally or financially.

If only this hadn’t happened.

It all stemmed from the head of the family’s desire not to leave a stain of low birth on Wecker’s name.

From birth, everything about him was perfect. Noble blood, a brilliant mind, and a prosperous family. He couldn’t tolerate a blemish on Wecker’s history at this point.

Though it was a difficult and troublesome path, it was better not to draft a will. After all, the law was beneath politics, so if interests aligned, it wasn’t impossible.

If only Liriel Wecker had remained quiet as he had been.

“Wecker shouldn’t be the subject of such gossip!”

The newspaper, crumpled in the duke’s hand, finally lost its strength and fell to the floor. As it opened, Liriel glanced at the front page with admiration.

“Journalists always know how to write a good headline.”

<A Study on Family Criteria and Inheritance Law>

Under current inheritance law, there are two main criteria for inheriting family property. Being a ‘direct descendant’ and being ‘named in the will.’ In other words, if these criteria aren’t met, it’s hard to say one belongs to the family. Today, we judge families by name alone, but we need to revisit the foundation. Ultimately, to say one ‘belongs,’ all legal procedures must be followed. Can someone lacking these truly be called a member of the family? (Omitted)

It was an article written at just the right temperature. To those unaware, it seemed like a vague column, but to those in the know, it was a clear reference to Wecker. And Liriel was very satisfied with it.

The time spent finding the perfect journalist was worth it.

By placing a column instead of a typical article on the front page, it drew attention, and the way it was written, appealing only to nobles, was excellent.

In the empire, the only noble not named in a will was Liriel Wecker. But since the imperial family tacitly allowed it, other nobles couldn’t comment, even if they were tempted. Amidst this, a seemingly trivial article appeared in the newspaper. It could only be seen as influenced by someone. In other words, it was a column that wouldn’t help anyone but Liriel Wecker himself.

Now, those who knew would have no choice but to realize.

The Wecker child with star eyes was up for grabs in society.

A product of luck. A living talisman. The star of Wecker’s success story. No one would refuse the star-eyed owner wanting to leave the nest. This was true even for the imperial family, who had coordinated with Duke Wecker in advance.

So, it was a topic that would drive nobles wild.

The duke’s eyes turned red with anger at the antics of a dog he thought he’d never have to feed.

With pigs sniffing around and putting Liriel Wecker on the scales, Wecker had no choice but to quickly amend the will to prevent losing him. There was no other way to quell the commotion. It was a complete mess.