YW | Chapter 1.7

Turning his head, Liriel habitually picked up a newspaper and forced his eyes to scan the print. His dry eyes stopped when they found something.

It was a job advertisement from the Archduke Baltar’s family.

Why would a family as high as the archduke publicly advertise for a job? Especially from this distant capital?

The suspiciously good conditions were also strange.

Liriel traced the word “Baltar” on the newspaper with his finger for a long time.

Archduke Baltar, he’s quite young.

Something clicked in his mind. Liriel moved swiftly, a rare occurrence, to the drawer. His hand reached the fourth drawer. Though it creaked from being unopened for so long, the contents inside remained the same. Liriel spent hours sifting through the piles of papers, reading.

By then, the sunset was visible outside the window.

A bit later, Anskar, worried about Liriel skipping dinner, knocked on the door as usual.

When there was no answer for a long time, he opened the door abruptly, revealing Liriel’s back, surrounded by papers, sitting on the floor.

Seeing the white back of his head, Anskar was swept by a wave of nostalgia.

When Liriel was busy with work, he often sat on the floor like this, spreading out documents. It was an old memory.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Anskar approached him and held his breath. On his brother’s face, which he hadn’t seen in a while, was the same bright smile as before.

⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚ ⋆⭒˚☾⋆.˚

Just as Seo Hamin had glimpsed Liriel’s memories and understood his nature, Liriel was the same. The memories and traces left by him naturally brought to mind what kind of person he was.

Seo Hamin considered the deprivation of rightful claims the greatest evil. So, it was only natural that he left a way to reclaim the rights he had uniquely negotiated for.

The laws concerning noble inheritance and title succession contained many details, and among them was a clause that people neither knew nor cared about. It stated that if a will was amended more than twenty times, it lost its validity.

Of course, the last time this clause was applied in court was 200 years ago, so how the court would react was uncertain, but at least the imperial family would be on his side. The emperor, who had always been uneasy about the growing Wecker, wouldn’t miss this opportunity.

So, this was a chance.

Ultimately, Anskar would become the duke. But at least by using this, he could create internal strife, which was one of Anskar Wecker’s least favorite situations. Wasting time and resources on pointless matters.

Afterward, Liriel spent most of his time in the library. There was only one chance, and he couldn’t miss it. Even though he knew the materials Seo Hamin had prepared were perfect, he read and reread books day and night. He was that desperate.

Watching Liriel, the people of the Wecker family couldn’t hide their excitement. His focused expression and gestures naturally reminded them of his most brilliant days. The more his already emaciated body withered, the warmer the atmosphere in the ducal house became. It was a bizarre sight.

Liriel ended his seclusion exactly one month later.

Finally closing the last book, Liriel gathered his documents and headed to Anskar’s office. His starry eyes were the only bright thing on his gaunt face.

When he burst through the door, gentle eyes filled with surprise greeted him.

“Liriel.”

“…Anskar, brother.”

It was the first time in a long while he used the proper title. Anskar felt his once-empty heart fill to the brim, slowly curling his lips into a smile.

He was the only family he had given his affection to. Though he tried not to show it for a long time, the recent behavior of Liriel and the familiar title melted away any lingering resentment like snow. He found it astonishing that such trivial feelings arose within him.

“I found a strange clause while reading the law books.”

He got straight to the point without embellishment. Though unintentional, even that reminded Anskar of the past Seo Hamin, naturally softening his heart. With a content expression, Anskar urged him to continue. Liriel deliberately paused before cautiously replying.

“I don’t want to fight with you, brother.”

“What do you mean by that all of a sudden?”

What could there be to fight about between him and Liriel? Watching his puzzled face emerge from his emotions, Liriel handed over a document.

“Even if I don’t intend to, if someone among the vassals notices this, things will get complicated.”

His pink eyes, casually scanning the text, gradually darkened. Reaching the last period, Anskar paused in thought. The paper his brother handed him contained unexpected information.

Wills and inheritance.

It was quite a troublesome matter.

Even if the will lost its effect, Wecker’s master was still him.

Anskar Wecker had never imagined a Wecker without himself as the duke from the moment memory existed. It wasn’t a mere wish, arrogance, or vanity to him. It was simply natural.

The only thing fitting for Wecker, the only thing deserving of Wecker, was himself. And the Wecker he would have had to be flawless.

Though his twin wasn’t a concern, Liriel was different. Considering the genius he had shown and the uniqueness of the star eyes, it was clear it would be a troublesome and drawn-out fight.

There was only one solution, but Anskar deliberately avoided it, crumpling the edge of the paper in frustration.

He slowly met Liriel’s eyes.

He admitted it.

To be honest, the faint pink eyes before him were endearing. Liriel Wecker was the only one who evoked the emotion of affection he didn’t know he had.

Yet.

Nothing could be placed on the same level as Wecker.

Anskar slowly pushed away the unfamiliar emotion that had settled uncomfortably in his heart. It didn’t take long. He had been this kind of person since birth.

He decided to kill Liriel Wecker.

It was the first time since birth that emotion almost overpowered reason, but Anskar quickly regained his composure. Though it was regrettable to lose the star eyes, it was better than letting things get more tangled.

Liriel clenched his fist at Anskar’s transparent thought process. His untrimmed nails dug into his flesh, stinging.

No matter how much affection was whispered, his existence was beneath their interests. Confirming that fact before his eyes made his heart tighten anew. He thought he had long let go of love that wasn’t his, but it seemed he hadn’t yet abandoned the habit of begging for affection.

Liriel suppressed his quickening breath and spoke.

“There is a way.”

“A way?”

“I can give up the Wecker name.”

“That’s not possible.”

In the long history, no one with star eyes had ever abandoned Wecker. Moreover, erasing the Wecker name from Liriel, who had no backing, was akin to throwing him naked to a pack of hyenas.

It was obvious that nobles, the imperial family, and the temple, all coveting the star eyes, would tear him apart. It wasn’t just because he was fond of Liriel; he couldn’t stand by and watch the symbol of Wecker suffer such humiliation.

“I’m not saying I’ll become a commoner. I’ll get married.”

At those words, Anskar’s eyebrows slightly rose. Erasing a family name through marriage was only possible when the other family’s status was higher. So, there was no way Wecker would be erased from Liriel’s name.

In the tense atmosphere, like walking on a well-sharpened blade, Liriel’s eyes slowly curved. It was a cold smile devoid of warmth. It was the first time Anskar had seen such a smile.

“There is someone with a higher status than me.”

Someone who could erase the Wecker name from him.

It was a devilish whisper. Anskar’s gaze twisted strangely.

In the empire, the only ones with a higher status than Wecker were the imperial family. But the only imperial princess was just three years old, and the emperor had long declared he wouldn’t take any more concubines.

Unable to figure out who Liriel was referring to, Anskar’s eyes twitched.

Come to think of it, there was someone. Someone higher than Wecker, even excluding the imperial family.

“…Baltar?”

“Yes, brother.”

Anskar’s mind spun rapidly. Indeed, the Archduke Baltar’s family fit the conditions Liriel mentioned.

The option Liriel presented was quite tempting. Even aside from the emotional aspect of not wanting to kill Liriel Wecker, it was a waste to simply kill the star eyes, which had long been a symbol of Wecker. It was much better to send him somewhere until he inherited the dukedom.

Once things settled, he could bring him back. At most, it would take ten years, and if he hurried, it could be done in five.

Once the headache-inducing dilemma was neatly resolved, Anskar’s face regained its warmth. He stepped forward, closing the distance with Liriel. Liriel had to try hard not to faint at the gentle hand fixing the hair stuck to his forehead with a hint of cold sweat.

“Even if you’re busy, you should eat.”

His tone was so kind it was hard to believe he had just been contemplating murder. Though everyone present knew it, no one pointed it out aloud.

“We won’t see each other for a while, so I’ll miss you.”

Liriel’s trembling head nodded cautiously.

Will I miss him? I’m not sure.

It felt like something that had been tightly blocked was now either cleared or completely empty.

His mind was a mess.

He wished to be a Wecker but didn’t want to belong. He wanted affection but didn’t want to be loved. In the end, even though he thought life was meaningless, he was finding a way to live like this.

He forced strength into his relaxed legs. It felt like something was crumbling inside, but Liriel skillfully bowed his head, letting the pain pass.

The wedding preparations proceeded faster than expected. Marrying the archduke from the distant north to the symbol of Wecker was undoubtedly not simple, yet Anskar completed all negotiations in just one season. It was the speed expected of someone hailed as a genius long before Liriel stood out.

Before leaving for the north, Liriel took one last look at the Wecker mansion. It was a place he once thought of as home and believed could be home.

Anskar Wecker was the only one to see him off. Arnoute and the servants were reluctant, but they followed the little duke’s wish not to make a fuss.

“Liriel.”

“Yes, brother.”

“Until I find my place, just do nothing there.”

Liriel’s trembling lips failed to form a smile and stopped in place. It wasn’t out of defiance. Recently, he had been vomiting everything he ate and suffering sleepless nights, leaving him too weak to move even a single facial muscle. Still, Liriel forced a nod.

He no longer wanted to think about anything. Even if he eventually returned here, he felt he would die if he didn’t leave Wecker immediately.

As the carriage took him toward Baltar, everything went as Liriel wished, yet tears continuously streamed down his cheeks as he stared at his feet.

The name Wecker, which had always weighed him down, finally left Liriel’s side.

Contrary to the expected feeling of relief, his heart felt empty.

No, there was nothing there from the beginning, so saying it was empty now was laughable.

When he looked up, the distant ducal castle came into view.

The days when he wasn’t loved for being himself, not because he was Liriel Wecker, not because he was born to a lowly status from a prostitute… those childhood days of not being recognized simply because he was himself also faded away.