Translated by Tam
Edited by Tam
Episode 4. Chapter 2. The Little Kid and the Little Kid (2)
‘I’m not going to live a long life anyway.’
Cyril Valentin de Thesar. At the age of six, the young heir thought so while riding in a carriage to the Cassinel estate.
The child’s eyes were as deadly as his pessimistic thoughts when he looked out the window. His eyes were numb as he stared at the Duke estate in the distance.
Even the Duke estate, where he had lived for the six years, was unfamiliar to the child’s eyes. It was natural for him to never leave the castle, let alone go out.
While lying in bed and chattering, Cyril was always curious about what was going on outside. If he could only go out once. If he’d only seen a little bit of it—.
However, when he came outside, his expectations soon became disappointing. The outside was less important than he thought. In the winter, bare trees were as thin as Cyril, and the wind that blew in was cold even though he was wrapped in a scarf and a cloak.
And, most importantly—
‘You’ve given up on me.’
Cyril’s expectations for life had vanished as a result of this thought, and he couldn’t feel anything.
‘You finally gave up on me.’
When his father told him to go far away and gain dignity as an heir, and when his mother told him to restore his health. Cyril had only one thought when he heard those words spoken in the cold and hard tone of a Northerner.
‘I’m going to end up—’
Outside, he’s thinking about being abandoned.
What expectations can be placed on a life that has been abandoned?
Cyril, who had spent his entire life in sympathy and sighs, thought it was better, but couldn’t stop his eyes from turning red. He will die slowly in Cassinel, a land in the far southeast. He’ll die of illness, just like he always did.
He will be forgotten one day, and a new heir, a healthy heir who will satisfy his parents, will be born.
By then, he would have—.
Cyril shifted his gaze away from the window and buried his face in his knee.
The child’s thoughts grew more and more negative.
*******
The first impression of Cassinel was actually not good. It was because it was smaller than the Duke’s estate and less than everything Cyril had ever seen in his life.
Something was always familiar to him because he was always in the room.
The house in Cyril’s case was like that. Even if he doesn’t know what the term “old-fashioned and classy” means, he has a natural eye for it.
In Cyril’s opinion, Count Cassinel’s estate was a little shabby. The old castle and the old-looking interior were enough to annoy the Young Master.
If he were a normal 6-year-old, he would cry because it was strange and frightening, but Cyril believed this because he was a pessimistic 6-year-old.
‘I’m only going to die in a place like this—’
Count Cassinel appeared just as Cyril was about to drown in despair. The middle-aged Count, who had a powerful presence, looked down at Cyril with tiger-like eyes and said.
“Young Master, I’ve been waiting for you. You’ll be living in this Cassinel starting today.”
“…I look forward to your kind cooperation.” Because he was both pessimistic and dignified, Cyril responded calmly.
“Is it a child, Dad?”
A small voice spoke up at that point.
In a situation where he couldn’t see her face and could only hear her voice, Cyril quietly rolled his eyes, later realizing that a girl was standing behind the Count. A girl with red hair, similar to a rose he saw in a book, was blinking her eyes open.
Cyril thought that girl seemed to come out of the book, too. Because she looks just like the fairy in the fairy tale book that his nanny showed him.
“Adrienne, you should be polite to the Young Master.”
“Wow, it’s very small!”
The Count’s face, which appeared rough at first, quickly softened into that of a friendly father. Even his warning tone was gentle.
Cyril, on the other hand, was more focused on the words she said while staring at him than on the dramatic change.
‘It’s very small!’
If Cyril hadn’t already lost his sight, the girl was unmistakably pointing at him.
‘It’s very small!’
It’s not ‘little’ or ‘small’— Even if it was one of the two, he’d feel bad—but she even said ‘very small.’
Cyril’s fist clenched. He wanted to respond, but he was afraid he’d be as childish as that girl. But Cyril was tempted not to lose.
“—You’re small, too.”
“I’m a kid, so I’m small.”
Adrienne, the girl, responded as if she was saying something so obvious.
Blink. Her eyelashes fluttered every time she closed her eyes. It was even similar to a fairy. Cyril was briefly distracted by the movement before saying it again.
“I’m just a kid like you.”
“That’s right, but you’re smaller than me.”
That’s why it’s very small.
The additional words were fatal. Cyril couldn’t think of anything to say. He even admitted that he was a child, but in the end, the conclusion was that he is “very small.” Cyril is obviously a child, and he hates to admit it, but he’s even smaller than this girl.
It’s all true, but there’s no way to always be happy just because it’s true.
“…I’ll grow up soon.”
“When you grow up, so will I.”
“I’m going to be taller than you.”
“I’m taller now. Then I’ll be the taller one later.”
The doctor standing behind him couldn’t stop laughing and let out a ‘Pft’ sound. The Cassinel family servants who stood behind the Count had similar expressions. Even the Count’s lips were curved in a smile.
There were only two people who did not smile in this room. Two six-year-olds who are completely serious.
“—Annoying.”
Cyril murmured softly, aware that he was a laughingstock. Adults were all laughing, whether they couldn’t hear it or thought the child’s grumbling was cute.
“Because I’m taller?”
Meanwhile, the girl who had a good understanding of Cyril tried to confirm it with an innocent face.
It’s so annoying. Cyril let out a short sigh of frustration.
‘I’ll be taller than her.’
The Duke’s successor, who was thinking of dying just an hour ago, vowed to grow tall at that moment.
*******
“You will continue to take your medicine three times a day, Young Master. You should open the window if the weather gets better. In contrast to the duchy, the winter is short here, so you won’t have to wait long.”
Cyril’s doctor, Jerome, smiled as he adjusted his glasses. His warm eyes shifted to Cyril, who was staring at the blanket. Since he met the Count’s Young Lady, the sensitive Young Master had been in that state.
He was so resentful that he chewed his lips with his neat front teeth on occasion.
‘It’s a good thing.’
When Jerome saw the little master angry, he felt at ease. People must have willpower in order to survive. Cyril, on the other hand, was still weak and lacked willpower.
Not only that, but Cyril lacked many of the characteristics that a human should have. Things like fun, motivation, and greed. From birth until now, it was natural to live with a doctor while fighting against illness.
It was the first time Cyril had shown such concrete feelings to others.
Of course, he always had a tantrum or a temper tantrum, but today was different.
‘If you want to improve your medicine, you’ll have to—’
Competition. Cyril must have picked up on that basic emotion from what happened today.
That made Jerome very happy.
“Young Master, your lips will not run away.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“But as a doctor, I can’t help but worry about the blood.”
Cyril let go of his lips as he sighed at the words. Jerome silently laughed at the sight. Cyril was a sensitive, picky child who was also a good listener.
He would have been more than a gift of gentle energy to the North if he had grown up healthy and not sick.
When he saw Cyril like that, he remembered someone. He had no idea that a small child could be saved. That’s why Jerome cared more about Cyril. Because he used to imagine Cyril running around with excitement.
Knock.
Shortly after, a hazy sound was heard. Jerome stood in the place of Cyril, who was still staring at the blanket.
Knock.
At regular intervals, a small knock could be heard. That was a very cute sound. Jerome was able to guess the visitor’s identity despite the fact that she did not identify herself or ask permission to enter.
“You have visitors. We should probably call it a day.”
Jerome, who was packing his belongings, sneaked open the door.
Cyril, the room’s owner, frowned, but Jerome ignored him. Cyril will forget about himself after seeing the visitor, anyway.
“Oh my, a precious person has found you.”
Jerome greeted a more ladylike visitor than a knock.
“Me?” The little visitor asked, pointing to herself with a doll-like finger.
“Of course,” he says.
Srrrk.
He heard the sound of the blanket being pulled up to the tip of his head from behind him at the same time he heard the answer. He didn’t seem to want to meet her. Jerome smiled with his eyes and let the guest enter. And said aloud, as if to make him listen.
“Young Master, Mademoiselle Cassinel is here.”
Srrrk.
He heard the sound of putting down the blanket again.
Jerome ended up laughing out loud.
Translated by Tam
Edited by Tam
Episode 4. Chapter 2. The Little Kid and the Little Kid (2)
‘I’m not going to live a long life anyway.’
Cyril Valentin de Thesar. At the age of six, the young heir thought so while riding in a carriage to the Cassinel estate.
The child’s eyes were as deadly as his pessimistic thoughts when he looked out the window. His eyes were numb as he stared at the Duke estate in the distance.
Even the Duke estate, where he had lived for the six years, was unfamiliar to the child’s eyes. It was natural for him to never leave the castle, let alone go out.
While lying in bed and chattering, Cyril was always curious about what was going on outside. If he could only go out once. If he’d only seen a little bit of it—.
However, when he came outside, his expectations soon became disappointing. The outside was less important than he thought. In the winter, bare trees were as thin as Cyril, and the wind that blew in was cold even though he was wrapped in a scarf and a cloak.
And, most importantly—
‘You’ve given up on me.’
Cyril’s expectations for life had vanished as a result of this thought, and he couldn’t feel anything.
‘You finally gave up on me.’
When his father told him to go far away and gain dignity as an heir, and when his mother told him to restore his health. Cyril had only one thought when he heard those words spoken in the cold and hard tone of a Northerner.
‘I’m going to end up—’
Outside, he’s thinking about being abandoned.
What expectations can be placed on a life that has been abandoned?
Cyril, who had spent his entire life in sympathy and sighs, thought it was better, but couldn’t stop his eyes from turning red. He will die slowly in Cassinel, a land in the far southeast. He’ll die of illness, just like he always did.
He will be forgotten one day, and a new heir, a healthy heir who will satisfy his parents, will be born.
By then, he would have—.
Cyril shifted his gaze away from the window and buried his face in his knee.
The child’s thoughts grew more and more negative.
*******
The first impression of Cassinel was actually not good. It was because it was smaller than the Duke’s estate and less than everything Cyril had ever seen in his life.
Something was always familiar to him because he was always in the room.
The house in Cyril’s case was like that. Even if he doesn’t know what the term “old-fashioned and classy” means, he has a natural eye for it.
In Cyril’s opinion, Count Cassinel’s estate was a little shabby. The old castle and the old-looking interior were enough to annoy the Young Master.
If he were a normal 6-year-old, he would cry because it was strange and frightening, but Cyril believed this because he was a pessimistic 6-year-old.
‘I’m only going to die in a place like this—’
Count Cassinel appeared just as Cyril was about to drown in despair. The middle-aged Count, who had a powerful presence, looked down at Cyril with tiger-like eyes and said.
“Young Master, I’ve been waiting for you. You’ll be living in this Cassinel starting today.”
“…I look forward to your kind cooperation.” Because he was both pessimistic and dignified, Cyril responded calmly.
“Is it a child, Dad?”
A small voice spoke up at that point.
In a situation where he couldn’t see her face and could only hear her voice, Cyril quietly rolled his eyes, later realizing that a girl was standing behind the Count. A girl with red hair, similar to a rose he saw in a book, was blinking her eyes open.
Cyril thought that girl seemed to come out of the book, too. Because she looks just like the fairy in the fairy tale book that his nanny showed him.
“Adrienne, you should be polite to the Young Master.”
“Wow, it’s very small!”
The Count’s face, which appeared rough at first, quickly softened into that of a friendly father. Even his warning tone was gentle.
Cyril, on the other hand, was more focused on the words she said while staring at him than on the dramatic change.
‘It’s very small!’
If Cyril hadn’t already lost his sight, the girl was unmistakably pointing at him.
‘It’s very small!’
It’s not ‘little’ or ‘small’— Even if it was one of the two, he’d feel bad—but she even said ‘very small.’
Cyril’s fist clenched. He wanted to respond, but he was afraid he’d be as childish as that girl. But Cyril was tempted not to lose.
“—You’re small, too.”
“I’m a kid, so I’m small.”
Adrienne, the girl, responded as if she was saying something so obvious.
Blink. Her eyelashes fluttered every time she closed her eyes. It was even similar to a fairy. Cyril was briefly distracted by the movement before saying it again.
“I’m just a kid like you.”
“That’s right, but you’re smaller than me.”
That’s why it’s very small.
The additional words were fatal. Cyril couldn’t think of anything to say. He even admitted that he was a child, but in the end, the conclusion was that he is “very small.” Cyril is obviously a child, and he hates to admit it, but he’s even smaller than this girl.
It’s all true, but there’s no way to always be happy just because it’s true.
“…I’ll grow up soon.”
“When you grow up, so will I.”
“I’m going to be taller than you.”
“I’m taller now. Then I’ll be the taller one later.”
The doctor standing behind him couldn’t stop laughing and let out a ‘Pft’ sound. The Cassinel family servants who stood behind the Count had similar expressions. Even the Count’s lips were curved in a smile.
There were only two people who did not smile in this room. Two six-year-olds who are completely serious.
“—Annoying.”
Cyril murmured softly, aware that he was a laughingstock. Adults were all laughing, whether they couldn’t hear it or thought the child’s grumbling was cute.
“Because I’m taller?”
Meanwhile, the girl who had a good understanding of Cyril tried to confirm it with an innocent face.
It’s so annoying. Cyril let out a short sigh of frustration.
‘I’ll be taller than her.’
The Duke’s successor, who was thinking of dying just an hour ago, vowed to grow tall at that moment.
*******
“You will continue to take your medicine three times a day, Young Master. You should open the window if the weather gets better. In contrast to the duchy, the winter is short here, so you won’t have to wait long.”
Cyril’s doctor, Jerome, smiled as he adjusted his glasses. His warm eyes shifted to Cyril, who was staring at the blanket. Since he met the Count’s Young Lady, the sensitive Young Master had been in that state.
He was so resentful that he chewed his lips with his neat front teeth on occasion.
‘It’s a good thing.’
When Jerome saw the little master angry, he felt at ease. People must have willpower in order to survive. Cyril, on the other hand, was still weak and lacked willpower.
Not only that, but Cyril lacked many of the characteristics that a human should have. Things like fun, motivation, and greed. From birth until now, it was natural to live with a doctor while fighting against illness.
It was the first time Cyril had shown such concrete feelings to others.
Of course, he always had a tantrum or a temper tantrum, but today was different.
‘If you want to improve your medicine, you’ll have to—’
Competition. Cyril must have picked up on that basic emotion from what happened today.
That made Jerome very happy.
“Young Master, your lips will not run away.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“But as a doctor, I can’t help but worry about the blood.”
Cyril let go of his lips as he sighed at the words. Jerome silently laughed at the sight. Cyril was a sensitive, picky child who was also a good listener.
He would have been more than a gift of gentle energy to the North if he had grown up healthy and not sick.
When he saw Cyril like that, he remembered someone. He had no idea that a small child could be saved. That’s why Jerome cared more about Cyril. Because he used to imagine Cyril running around with excitement.
Knock.
Shortly after, a hazy sound was heard. Jerome stood in the place of Cyril, who was still staring at the blanket.
Knock.
At regular intervals, a small knock could be heard. That was a very cute sound. Jerome was able to guess the visitor’s identity despite the fact that she did not identify herself or ask permission to enter.
“You have visitors. We should probably call it a day.”
Jerome, who was packing his belongings, sneaked open the door.
Cyril, the room’s owner, frowned, but Jerome ignored him. Cyril will forget about himself after seeing the visitor, anyway.
“Oh my, a precious person has found you.”
Jerome greeted a more ladylike visitor than a knock.
“Me?” The little visitor asked, pointing to herself with a doll-like finger.
“Of course,” he says.
Srrrk.
He heard the sound of the blanket being pulled up to the tip of his head from behind him at the same time he heard the answer. He didn’t seem to want to meet her. Jerome smiled with his eyes and let the guest enter. And said aloud, as if to make him listen.
“Young Master, Mademoiselle Cassinel is here.”
Srrrk.
He heard the sound of putting down the blanket again.
Jerome ended up laughing out loud.
