Side Story 12. One Day, My Sister Died

2024.04.23.

Noel, staring blankly at that figure, whispered quietly.

“I do not see you, elder brother, as a source of instability for Euphris. Oh, quite the contrary—I see you as Euphris’s hope.”

Clade’s profile, gazing wordlessly out the window, resembled a lifeless sculpture devoid of warmth.

But Noel was determined to finish delivering the story he had prepared.

“…My, my beloved does not wish to become Empress.”

Only then did Clade turn his head. Those violet eyes, so similar to mine, flickered sensitively, probing the intent behind my words.

Yet as my long-considered resolve solidified, my racing heart calmed and steadied—and my faltering tongue found its place again.

“To merely stand by and watch love walk away—that’s what fools do, someone once told me. I, too, do not wish to remain in this position for long. I am here to atone in my father’s stead. For me, this seat is not an honor—it is a period of punishment.”

The eyes of the boy now grown into a young man shone earnestly, filled with reverence and sincerity.

“Therefore, please stay healthy.”

“Healthy.”

Before Clade, who snorted in disbelief, Noel answered without wavering.

“W, who knows? Perhaps a child born between the two of you will one day lead Euphris.”

It was tantamount to declaring he would endure his reign without naming an heir, ultimately passing the throne to the children of Clade and Yuan.

Clade turned his head back toward the window, bitterness mingling with the motion.

A child. He recalled, with self-mockery, those days when he wondered who in the world would ever want a husband—or a father—like him.

His gaze, fixed beyond the students gradually leaving the academy, darkened even further.

“Don’t you dare subtly try to pass the throne—or anything like it—to me. I’ve already stained my hands with too much blood. Your father, too, will likely meet the death he so longs for—in my hands—about ten years from now. I will certainly kill him. That’s precisely why I placed his place of exile near my own territory.”

“…….”

“A proper person like you—could you really stand by while your uncle, not even on my side, is slain by an emperor like me?”

“It is… only just punishment. Moreover. By the time Father meets his end that way…”

Noel’s eyes flashed momentarily as he stared at Clade’s voice, laced with self-derision.

“There will not be a single soul in this country who does not stand on your side.”

It was a statement bordering on a vow—he would make it so.

Clade glanced once at Noel, whose resolve seemed firmly set, then opened the carriage door.

“Let’s see about that.”

Stepping out of the carriage, he found snow falling. Recalling a certain woman who hated snow, he lowered his eyes briefly, lost in thought.

A habitual anxiety suddenly surged in his chest. He, too, had lost everyone he loved on a snowy day.

“Everyone you love will die.”

“Just as everything Alexei Euphris loved perished.”

He knew all too well that the more one possesses to love, the more one stands to lose.

Though Igor’s curse had lifted, he still lived with shadows clinging to the corners of his heart.

The snowfall intensified. A knock sounded against the carriage window.

When he glanced over, Noel, through the slightly opened window, gave his final farewell—he would return to the Imperial Palace.

Clade quietly nodded and watched as the window closed again.

Reflected on the freshly cleaned glass, he saw a golden-haired man, drenched in sorrow, standing beneath the swirling snowflakes.

It was a beautiful man, cheeks tensed as though not even a needle could slip between them. Instantly, the tension in his body dissolved.

“Igor Euphris.”

He stared directly into his own reflection and whispered, barely audible.

“You were wrong.”

Most of those Alexei loved had died—but Clade had survived.

The curse that claimed everyone Alexei loved had died was flawed from the very beginning.

Even the curse that everyone Clade loved would die had failed to take hold.

Despite sending so many souls to heaven, he had found love again—and ultimately, he had not died.

No matter how trampled or cursed—he could not be stopped from cherishing and loving someone, for that is the nature of being human.

One can always love someone again. That is what it means to be human.

Igor Euphris was someone who never understood that.

Even though people worth loving overflowed all around him.

Clade pulled his robe over his shoulders and stared after Noel, who hurriedly disappeared into the distance—then turned his body once more toward the academy entrance.

His eyes, dark and sunken from an unexpected wave of sentimentality, suddenly sparkled with light.

Far off, among the students pouring out of exams and heading back to their dormitories, he spotted his beloved—with long black hair flowing freely.

Instantly, the darkness creeping into his heart was wholly swept away.

He suddenly remembered.

What he should do before Yuan graduated from the academy.

Scouring every last trace of grime from the back of the mansion.

Once that task was fully complete, he would offer Yuan a ring once more.

This time—not his mother Eleonore’s ring, but one he had chosen himself.

***

Yuan, as always, looked hopefully at Hire when he came for her monthly check-up, silently asking if he had brought any letters.

Hire scratched his head, looking awkwardly apologetic.

Seeing Yuan’s visibly disappointed expression, Hire hesitated, then suddenly spoke up.

“It may serve as a mood-lifter—but Madam, your body has now recovered sufficiently to safely conceive a child.”

Her mind, tangled with thoughts of Clade’s unanswered letters, went blank.

Yuan blinked slowly as she walked out of the lecture hall after her final exam, long after Hire had left. A child… a child…

‘We might have a child together.’

She absentmindedly stroked her flat stomach, still bearing no life.

Three years until graduation. By then, her body would surely be even more fully restored.

A vision unfolded before her eyes—a cherubic child with sparkling golden hair running about.

Yuan quickly shook her head and let her shoulders slump again.

What was the point of thinking about this alone? Telling Clade—who had considerately framed their relationship as dating rather than marriage—such news would be nothing but deceit.

‘Come to think of it, he must know exams ended today. Why hasn’t he replied?’

She recalled the densely written four-page letter where she demanded he stop surrounding her with his people.

Had she perhaps pushed him too hard, not even giving him a chance to explain?

…Dating is difficult.

Even though they exchanged letters across distance, occasionally met and clung to each other—they were not spouses, and the process of truly knowing each other as individuals was always arduous and exhausting.

Whenever situations veered unexpectedly from her predictions, she, too, felt waves of anxiety—and in those moments, she could finally empathize with the kind of unease Clade had previously felt.

She should’ve left out that part where she scolded him for acting so arbitrarily without consulting her.

She didn’t need to write so emotionally.

‘I even turned a blind eye to his meddling in dorm life—maybe I should’ve phrased it more gently.’

Her shoulders, weighed down by regret, suddenly shot upward.

But still—wasn’t it too much to not reply at all? It was plainly obvious he was overprotecting her! And at this crucial moment—when Hire just said she could conceive—how could they even discuss such an important matter if he refused to communicate?

I hate him. I hate you. How thoughtless. You jerk.

Is being pretty enough to get away with everything? Damn it, even the snow’s falling now. Her raised shoulders and upturned eyes drooped again.

Trudging forward listlessly, eyes fixed on the ground, the murmuring voices of people grew louder as she neared the main gate.

Excited voices brushed past her cheeks like passing gusts of wind.

An extraordinary handsome man stood before the gate. A man stood steadily before a dazzling four-wheeled carriage she’d never seen before, letting snowflakes land on him.

He appeared to be waiting for his lover leaving the academy. Because in his hands…

Yuan slowly walked past the irrelevant chatter toward the main gate.

The murmuring grew louder and louder. Yuan, who had kept her head down, suddenly lifted it—and froze like ice, eyes wide open.

Amid snowflakes fluttering like white stars,

a golden four-wheeled carriage bearing the Roxenhart crest blocked one side of the main gate.

And leaning casually against the carriage door, golden hair artlessly tousled, stood a breathtakingly handsome man.

Despite the students’ murmuring, Yuan felt as though she and the man before her were utterly alone.

His slightly raised eyebrow and tightly pressed lips—she couldn’t tell if he was reproaching her or not.

She stood rooted, hyper-aware of that subtly entangled gaze. At last, it was Clade who softened his expression first.

The man who had stood crookedly stared at Yuan’s startled eyes—then, his expression instantly softening, wordlessly spread his arms wide.

From behind his back, a massive bouquet burst open in his hands.

Anemones. In this cold winter, a tri-colored bouquet—sourced from who knows where—bloomed vividly against the white snow.

Yuan stared at the man standing with arms open—as if to say, in any circumstance, I’ve missed you helplessly—as though he were a masterpiece unmatched in this world.

Matching Yuan’s gradually quickening steps, Clade spread his long arms even wider.

“Don’t run. You’ll fall.”

There was someone who always spread their arms like that whenever they saw Yuan.

A sister who fretted endlessly—would she trip if she ran? Would she ache if she got cold?

The only beloved person and family left in the world.

Louise had kept her promise to her imperfect little sister. It was a day when that fact pierced her heart with gratitude.

One day, my sister died.

Everything she stood upon trembled and collapsed. But the world, which seemed destined to end with her sister’s death, did not end.

Yuan gained another family—someone more precious and beloved than anyone else in the world.

It was a new love, guided by love she felt she didn’t deserve.

She remembered that firm, tender hand that had pushed her gently forward before the snowy mountain.

Yuan kicked off powerfully with her own strength and ran toward Clade—then threw herself against him, clinging to his neck.

His arms immediately wrapped around her, holding her as though he would never let go.

Clade, kissing deeply atop Yuan’s head nestled against him like a child, whispered,

“Let’s go on a date.”

All regret and resentment, all anxiety, melted away—and a silly laugh escaped her lips.

Yuan, eyes glistening, buried her nose into the fresh bouquet they held together.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

Someday, again,

farewells with precious ones will come to them in many forms.

But even so, they will love.

Therefore, they will love without regret.

Yuan, gazing quietly up at Clade, drew her flushed face close to his ear and opened her mouth.

The man, absorbing every shy word she whispered, felt his eyes surge violently with emotion.

He slowly, tenderly stroked Yuan as she clung to him, embarrassed, burying her neck against him—and held her deeply within his embrace.

– Side Story Complete.