After Leila’s funeral ended, everyone returned to their rooms, ready to retire for the night.

Frederick made his way to his bedroom almost robotically, as if he was running on auto-pilot. His feet dragged against the floor, feeling heavy with each step.

Once he entered his bedroom, he finally snapped out of his stupor. He glanced around his room, looking around at the familiar yet unfamiliar place. It had been more than half a year since he last stepped foot in his room as he had been away to study at the capital, not knowing that it would be the last time he would see his darling little sister.

He touched his chest, feeling the emptiness caused by Leila’s death. Slowly, his grip became stronger and stronger, until his tunic had been ruffled, his nails almost tearing the cloth apart.

His body trembled.

Finally, he could no longer stave off the pain and collapsed, curling up on the floor.

“Leila, ah, Leila—“ He began wailing quietly. It was the first time he had to taste such despair in all of his eighteen years of life, so he could not help but break down. Though he had been keeping a brave front in front of his family, once he was alone there was no more need for pretence.

‘Sweet, sweet Leila.’

‘Why…?’

‘Why did you go away so soon…?’

‘Even though I promised to take you around the capital once I graduate…’

‘How can you be dead?’

Leila’s sweet smile floated in front of his eyes.

Leila had been the sibling he was closest to. Their ages were not too far apart, so they got along well. She had a weak body when she was younger, and naturally, as the elder brother he took great care of her. Even after she became well, he still continued to dote on her.

While the twins looked up to her as a dependable older sister, to him, she was still that frail little girl that needed to be looked after. It could be said that the one who felt her loss the most was Frederick who had spoiled her since young.

“Leila…”

This incident of the eldest son breaking down went unnoticed by everyone, as they were all wrapped in their own thoughts and sorrows.

In another room, the youngest child of the Rosenbell House had locked himself in his room, seeking solace by curling up under his blanket. Big blobs of tears silently wetted his bed.

“Sister… Sister…”

‘Hm? What’s wrong, Julie? Did Fri bully you again?’

“Julie, would you like to hear a story?’

‘Julie?! How did you get hurt?! Ah, there, there. Pain, pain, go away~’

‘Julie~’

‘Julie!’

‘Julie—‘

“Sister… hic, I-I’m… sorry… hic—“

“Julie,” Leila smiled softly at the crying little boy, “Don’t be afraid, I’m right here.”

Hearing Leila’s voice lingering in his mind, a fresh batch of tears began to form on his face. “I was wrong, I’m sorry, please come back… sister… I need you…”

‘If only I was more careful,’

‘If only I was more powerful,’

‘If only… if only… I was stronger… then… then… older sister Leila would not have fallen. Then, she wouldn’t have had to catch me.’

‘If only I studied harder.’ The boy choked. ‘If only I was able to use my attributes better.’

Within his melancholy laid guilt.

As a child from a noble household, naturally, he had already found his innate attribute at a young age, and just a few months prior his tutoring lessons had started. However, he was never one for the academics, choosing to play around rather than study.

If only he had paid attention to the lessons, he could have used his innate wind attribute to save himself, as well as prevent his sister’s death.

Due to that fact, he fully placed the blame of Leila’s death on his own head, feeling utterly responsible.

If only he wasn’t so weak, he thought.

But, the young boy failed to see that even if he studied hard, it was impossible for him to attain the strength that he wished for with just a few months of rigorous studying. Unless, of course, if he was a prodigy or a genius.

.

The next day.

Due to the gloomy mood that had been hanging around the mansion for some time, no one felt like dining together for breakfast.

The guests, save for the Bluebloom couple, all left the morning after the funeral, unwilling to disturb the grieving family.

Marquis Bluebloom and his wife stayed behind at the mansion, concerned over their only daughter’s wellbeing. For the time being, they had decided to stay until their daughter was healthier.

Marcus Rosenbell sat in his study, his meal left untouched. He instructed his steward to call over his eldest son.

Frederick who had heard the order immediately went over to his father’s study, which was usually restricted on a normal day.

“Father.”

“Frederick. Take a seat.” The viscount motioned for his son to sit down in front of him. The younger man complied silently.

The two sat in complete silence for a long time.

“Frederick,” The viscount was the first to break the silence. After a slight pause, he spoke, “We are blue-blooded nobles. We mustn’t show any weakness.” He had long taken notice of his son’s haggard appearance, looking as if he had not slept a wink.

His tone hardened, “to the noble society, Leila Rosenbell had never existed. She was never introduced or made her debut. Leila… does not and will no longer exist among the nobility.”

It took several, long moments for Frederick to understand what his father was saying. In the first few seconds, his anger almost erupted before he quickly held himself back. ‘How can you be so heartless, father?’ he wanted to ask. But, after thinking more thoroughly, he understood what his father wanted to convey.

‘Leila is gone. Don’t let her death become your weakness. High society is unkind and they do not care about someone they can no longer use. Don’t let them see your weakness, else you’ll be doomed to become a sacrificial pawn,’ was what he was probably trying to say.

After his son left, Viscount Rosenbell stared at the ceiling, sorting his thoughts.

At least… with Leila’s passing, he no longer needed to put up such a high guard against the Meritolan Church, he comforted himself.

He did not realise how empty he felt at the thought.