In Order to Meet You, Beloved - Chapter 49

EPISODE 49

‘Brother, Brother!’

The boy, who had been walking ahead on the grassy field, turned around. A small child, running towards him with a bright smile, was coming up. The blond boy looked at the child with a nonchalant gaze, then glanced at the fidgeting attendants of the child in the distance.

Regardless, the child clung to the boy’s leg. The child, with arms outstretched as if asking to be picked up, began to whimper as the boy did not act.

The boy sighed softly, lifted the child with both hands and held him high. As if thinking he was being played with, the child started to laugh merrily. The boy, looking up at him with a helpless expression, awkwardly raised the corners of his mouth.

It was a very gentle smile.

Unlike his other siblings, the boy’s calm demeanor was soothing, and the child followed him more often than anyone else. The child, fascinated by the glittering golden hair in the sunlight, reached out to hold it.

Then suddenly, the child noticed the hand holding him.

Between the cuffs of the boy’s sleeve, many marks were visible on his arm. Although the child would only later realize they were scars, at that time, it just seemed like something was smudged.

The boy always maintained a formal appearance even in summer. It was only after growing a bit older that the child vaguely guessed the reason why the boy pursued a style that revealed no skin except his face.

After letting the child touch his hair, the boy carefully set him down on the grass. The reassuring touch on his head made the child smile happily.

‘You are so fearless.’

‘I’m very scared!’

‘Go back to your mother. She must be worried.’

The boy’s hand gently patted the child’s back. At that moment, the hand seemed so large. The child looked down at his own soft, white hands without any scars. It felt strangely emotional.

The brilliant scene turned over, and darkness filled it.

‘You must become a king.’

The slightly older child looked at the people begging him. Hamel, Bennett, Dolores. Seeing the person at the front, the child realized it was all a dream.

His grandfather had already passed away eight years ago. There was no way to see him again.

‘Your Majesty, we will help you. You will surely reach the supreme position.’

‘Your Majesty!’

‘Your Majesty, please take care of yourself.’

Avoiding the echoing voices, he stopped running when he saw someone in front of him. His mother, with black hair, pale skin, and a somber face, spoke to him.

‘Ian, become a king. That’s the way we will survive.’

Mother, but… but I’m not fit to be a king. You already know that, don’t you? Mother, I…

What he truly wishes for is—

“Ah…”

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the gray ceiling dimly lit. Lukewarm moisture trickled down between his eyes and temples.

He slowly sat up. His disheveled hair, tear-streaked eyes, and somewhat vacant expression.

It took a while for the young man to shake off Ian and return to Noah, sitting there blankly for some time.

“Noah, what’s the matter?”

“Huh?”

Tiella, with a worried look, gave Noah a sidelong glance as he blinked while holding his utensils.

“You’ve only cleared two plates. Will you be able to maintain your strength eating so little?”

“Oh, I guess so.”

Compared to his habit of finishing at least five plates, the amount was indeed small. Noah, answering dismissively, couldn’t bring himself to move the fork any further and picked up a fruit plate instead.

It was always like this on days he dreamed about his brother. Even though they were pleasant memories, why did they leave him feeling so unsettled?

As Noah thought of the king, the person from his dreams, his gaze became deeply introspective.

He hadn’t met him since he was confined eight years ago, except for that one day a month ago.

Seeing his brother again after a long time, though still stoic, seemed to be doing well, which was a relief. It would have been nice if they could have talked a bit more.

Noah shook his head slightly. After all, why would someone whose bloodline tried to kill him want to see him for a long time? It was already enough to be so generous; it seemed disgraceful for him to be having such thoughts.

There was a time when the weight of the responsibility of becoming a king heavily burdened his shoulders. It wasn’t until he was liberated that he realized it was a burden, but the sense of guilt didn’t easily fade.

He bit back his self-loathing, which kept trying to surface, with the grapes he was eating. Cordelia, who had been sitting next to him, placed a glass of water in front of him.

When he saw Cordelia, who had been sitting primly at dinner right after the ball yesterday, Noah nearly burst into laughter. The family, including Isaac, had desperately tried to stifle their laughter at Cordelia, who had written her loneliness and boredom all over her face. But in the end, they all had to work hard to console the sulking Cordelia, who had been the only one to laugh.

From that alone, it was clear that Cordelia had grown up loved.

“Why are you like this? Are you unwell?”

Seeing Cordelia’s sparkling eyes on him made Noah feel guilty like a child caught misbehaving. He averted his gaze and confessed quietly.

“I’ve been feeling unwell today.”

He wasn’t lying. Noah hastily picked up an apple and forcefully tore it in half. As he chewed the neatly cut apple and looked at the glass Cordelia had given him, the surroundings seemed oddly quiet.

“What are you doing?”

Looking up in confusion, Noah saw the bewildered faces of those sitting at the table. Why were they reacting like this? As he wondered, Noah calmly answered Isaac’s question.

“I’m eating fruit.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I was asking what you just did.”

“It’s just uncomfortable to eat it like that. Oh, would you like some?”

“That’s not what I meant. Ah, okay. Thanks.”

A normal person wouldn’t be able to tear an apple with their bare hands.

Isaac, instead of adding more, took the half of the apple and started chewing it. Although he used to be quite slender as a child, what kind of life had he lived over the past eight years to become such a physically robust person?

While Isaac looked on with pity, misunderstanding the situation, Calia, noticing Cordelia’s eyes sparkling with a different kind of interest, clicked her tongue inwardly.

Here she goes again.

Regardless, Cordelia looked at Noah’s muscular arms with a certain greed. She had guessed the strength of his body from the way he moved, but seeing it confirmed her suspicion. She imagined he would be good at things like princess hugs. Would he do it if asked? Wow, imagining it painted a nice picture!

To think that such a body could belong to someone innocent yet polite and elegantly handsome. The feelings she had when she first saw Noah’s face came back to her. He was an inspiring character.

Ah, how nice it would have been to have a pen. She would be scolded for doing anything else at the dining table. Cordelia watched Noah’s adam’s apple moving slowly as he drank water, lost in thought. Noah was truly a man fit to be the protagonist of a novel.

***

Noah, having brought a basket of assorted fruits, placed it on the table in his room. After dragging the table to a spot where sunlight came in, he carefully arranged the fruits and then sat down on a chair a little way off.

He dipped a quill into the ink bottle on the nearby side table and began to leisurely draw lines.

Isaac had offered to change his room, but Noah was very pleased with his current room. It was in a secluded corner, making it hard for people to find him, and quiet, which was good for deep thinking or working.

Unaware of the ghost stories circulating among the servants, Noah answered lightly to the knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

Noah got up from his chair. When he opened the door, Cordelia, in a thin yellow dress that came down to her ankles, peered in through the gap. Her fresh appearance resembled a spring goddess.

“What’s up?”

“I’m just bored. I have something to talk about.”

Noah quickly moved to the vacant room, fetched another chair, and returned. He brushed off the dust from the chair he had been sitting on and offered it to Cordelia.

“So, were you drawing?”

Cordelia quickly noticed the disarray in the room. She gestured for him to continue as he was, and Noah, seeming conflicted, eventually put down the paper and wooden board and sat down.

Well, he guess it won’t take long to talk.

“Yes.”

“What were you drawing?”

“Still life. It would be too much to use a canvas with the time I have.”

Thanks to the development of papermaking techniques, cheap and good-quality paper was readily available, allowing him to indulge in such distractions. He had also considered using paint, but the cost of dyes made it impractical for this kind of work.

And he would have to return to the capital in three days. He wasn’t confident he could finish his work by then.

“You really do like drawing. It must not be easy to spend all day thinking about art like you do.”

Is his art going to become her rival? It seems quite convincing. Cordelia thought, furrowing her brow.

“It’s good for clearing my mind.”

Perhaps that’s why Noah liked drawing so much. Noah, who had been smiling as he spoke, suddenly mentioned a forgotten fact.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to finish the portrait, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

“Oh, I almost forgot about that.”

He had completely forgotten after his body had changed just before finishing it and due to being so busy since the birthday banquet.

“It must be really beautiful, right? I’m looking forward to it.”

“I hope you like it.”

Cordelia almost said something about how serious Noah was being between them, but she held back. Yes, let’s take it slow. Slowly.

She still wasn’t sure what to make of the overwhelmingly negative feelings she had. She needed to be cautious.

Why was she so angry back then?

The remnants of that unsettled feeling still lingered, making her recall that sunset day every time she saw Noah. It was also true that Noah had seemed especially handsome that day.

She had diligently tried to transcribe those emotions onto paper, but there was no sharp conclusion. Instead, she became more confused.

Is this a sign of love? It seems a bit different from jealousy or those kinds of emotions. She’s not sure. Maybe her sister knows the answer. But somehow, she hesitated to voice it.

“Noah…”

Cordelia’s voice dropped slightly.

“You know that conversation we had when we first met, the one you told me about the painting?”