Chapter Text
It was a bright morning in the small mansion of the Baron Moretti family. Klein walked to breakfast with Melissa and Benson. The atmosphere was warm.
Klein put down his spoon.
Melissa looked at the plate, which was half-empty.
"Klein, aren't you going to eat any more?"
"I'm full," Klein shook his head before adding,
"I can't eat any more."
A maid took the plate back. It was customary for anyone who wanted to continue eating to do so, and the Baron Moretti family didn't have many maids.
After Klein's parents passed away, they were left with a vast inheritance, more than they could ever spend. But because the three siblings were quite thrifty and believed that money would run out if they didn't earn more, Benson worked a lot. Fortunately, he was diligent and enjoyed his work. Melissa hadn't finished her studies yet, but her talent in machinery was evident. Klein ignored his nausea before speaking:
"Benson, I think that company that came to you for investment yesterday isn't good, You'll get cheated and suffer huge losses."
Benson smiled.
"Intuition?"
Klein nodded.
"Yes."
He worked as a consultant handling minor paperwork. In fact, Klein had a great interest in history and ancient languages. When he had free time, he often studied ancient texts. And, as Benson had pointed out, Klein had very good intuition.
Benson was silent for a moment, deep in thought, before something occurred to him.
"Oh, Klein, he emphasized that everyone in the direct lineage should attend Prince Amon's upcoming birthday celebration."
"Meaning…"
"You're my blood brother. You have to come with me."
"Ah…" Gulp, I feel dizzy.
Melissa added, "You can rest at the party for a while. It wouldn't be impolite to leave later. After all, this prince just enjoys seeing a lot of people at parties but doesn't like to greet them."
She stood up, adjusting the hem of her dress with graceful manners.
"I'll go now. I have math class this morning , As for my latest invention, I'll show it to you tomorrow."
Benson also stood up. "Then I'll go with you. Leonard, take Klein to his room."
"Yes!" The tall, handsome young man smiled broadly in response to the order.
Once Benson left, Klein didn't hide his terrible condition and spoke to Leonard:
"Get me a basin first."
His green eyes widened before he quickly grabbed a basin nearby.
Klein grabbed the basin and vomited. His breakfast was moved from his stomach to his mouth. A familiar black spot appeared in his vision. Klein wiped his mouth with a napkin before turning to Leonard:
"Please carry me..." and then he lost consciousness.
Leonard Mitchell had served the Duke Everknight family since he could remember, eventually becoming the personal knight of the Moretti family's second son on his 18th birthday. Leonard served alongside a few close friends his age; Young master Klein was charming, kind, well-mannered, and possessed excellent instincts. Unfortunately, he was born with a very weak constitution, frequently vomiting, suffering from nosebleeds, and easily fainting. Leonard had had to carry the unconscious young master countless times.
The young knight strode purposefully, glancing at Klein's pale face periodically. Young master Klein was thin, small, and pale, clearly showing his frail health. He wasn't bedridden, but he was too weak to go outside often.
Upon reaching his room, Leonard gently placed him in his arms before lowering the cord holding the bell.
Young lady Melissa's talents manifested themselves in many ways, including this special bell. Ringing it normally would summon a servant; lowering it would call a doctor.
A doctor with blood-red eyes rushed in, panting heavily but still holding his chin high. He was a skilled physician from the Duke Sanguine family, hired by the Moretti family on a five-year contract to stay in the mansion at all times to examine and care for their second son. It seemed that Emlyn White Sanguine liked the contract very much, and signed it without hesitation, with the only conditions being that he be paid in full and allowed to keep the dolls in his room. Leonard had been there once; the atmosphere was terrifying.
He gave a quick check before skillfully administering the medicine to the patient in front of him. He turned to report to Leonard, "Let the young master rest for a while longer. When he wakes up, have him drink this medicine. After drinking it, don't let him eat anything for about half an hour. I'll go report to the master."
Leonard nodded. It was a rule they had established among themselves that whenever the young master fainted or vomited, they would call a doctor for a thorough examination before reporting to the master. It wasn't because the master and young lady weren't worried; on the contrary, they were very concerned about the young master. If they rushed to report this, they would be anxious and restless. But if a trustworthy doctor examined him first, described the symptoms, and reported that everything was alright, their anxiety would lessen. All of this was a result of years of work experience.
Leonard sat with his arms crossed on the chair beside the young master's bed. About 15 minutes passed. His eyelashes twitched and slowly fluttered open. Once, Leonard had been alarmed by the young master's sudden fainting from vomiting. Although he hadn't studied medicine, he knew that sudden unconsciousness from vomiting could be very dangerous. Until, his personal physician, Emlin, said it was normal—normal for the young master, even if not for others. The family had hired specialists from various fields, but none were as effective as Emlyn White. Apparently, before meeting this doctor, Young master Klein had been bedridden. The fact that he had improved enough to walk around or even participate in short gatherings was a significant improvement.
Leonard adjusted young master Klein's posture before handing him some liquid medicine. Young master Klein stared at it blankly, his brown eyes momentarily losing focus before regaining focus. His slender hand picked up the bottle, and he squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing the entire contents. It seemed to taste quite bad. It was a pity Leonard couldn't offer him a sweet treat to soothe his nerves. Young master Klein looked at him gently and offered a faint smile.
Klein had been ill for a long time. Because it was his own body, he knew the cause. He noticed that every time he dreamed, he would wake up with a fever or vomiting. But when he interpreted his dreams carefully, he realized they were like divination —a future that could be changed. Klein, therefore, took these seemingly uncontrollable dreams very seriously, but telling others about the future based solely on his dreams sounded rather delusional.
The omens didn't just come from dreams but also from fleeting images before things happened. For example, if someone knocked on the door, Klein would see a glimpse of the person behind the door before turning the doorknob. If this happened frequently, he would have a nosebleed. Sometimes, if the dream was very 'violent,' its impact on Klein would be harder. The parts of these visions that foretold a dangerous future for Klein would have a severe impact commensurate with their severity.
"Why didn't you tell the master and young lady sooner? The symptoms must have started for a while, haven't they?"
"I was afraid they'd worry so much they wouldn't let me go to the party." This event only happens once a year; if he missed it, he'd have to wait another year. Prince Adam and Emperor Grisha didn't really like large crowds either.
"The party isn't until next month."
Klein shook his head. "You don't understand," he said, extending his hand for his knight to take.
"Never mind. Take me to the library." But Leonard didn't seem to understand. He lifted Klein into his arms. Klein, startled, reached out and grabbed Leonard, scolding him:
"I can walk! I'm not disabled!"
"Come on. Oh, I heard Lord Amanises will be visiting tomorrow."
"When? Why didn't I know?"
"Well, Lord Amanises mentioned it the other day. You weren't conscious then... I think I forgot to tell you."
... You're only 25. Why are you so forgetful?
Upon arriving at their destination, Leonard placed Klein on a chair. He stood up to his full height and walked along the aisle, searching for a book to read. Leonard sat waiting on the other side. Originally, according to knightly etiquette, they should have stood, but because Klein didn't object and preferred to sit and talk, Leonard had developed this habit.
Klein didn't mind this little habit; it was the constant carrying him around that bothered him. It's so embarrassing.
Klein shook his head to clear the thought and picked up a thick book about royalty to read.
Emperor Grisha, who transformed an ordinary kingdom into an empire and named this land 'Utopia,' waged war against all nations and achieved victory, earning the title of The Omniscient and Omnipotent, or even the Strongest Emperor. Fifty years have passed since he ascended the throne, yet he shows no sign of aging, as if he were neither human nor frail.
Klein knew this from his first year attending a royal banquet. When the Emperor entered the throne room, Klein's instincts screamed a headache. Every nerve cell warned him not to look, not to look at all. Luckily, the Emperor didn't speak long and left quickly; otherwise, Klein would have been in serious trouble.
Page after page passed. Leonard brought cookies and lunch from the chef until it was dinner time. Klein savored the food (though he couldn't eat much) with Benson and Melissa. He put away his books; he'd read two and a half today, marking the unfinished ones for another day.
Klein urged Leonard to go to bed. Since the guard's bedroom was next to his own, he turned off the lights and went to sleep.
Klein sipped his tea, chatting amicably with Amanisis. The teacup rippled, a sound Klein ignored. Then, a blinding light and a deafening noise followed. The tea table was reduced to rubble. Amanisis seemed to say something Klein couldn't understand. His ears buzzed. An explosion? It came from the east. The east... the mansion! Benson! Melissa!
Blood. Blood everywhere. Flames engulfed everything. Burning. Ouch. A scorching, agonizing sight. A funeral. Benson? Melissa? No. No. No. No!!
"No!!!"
Gasping for breath, someone opened the door. A figure grabbed Klein's shoulder, their green eyes filled with panic. Klein felt something rise in his throat, gushing out and staining his hands. Red. Red again—it hurt. The door opened again, this time multiple people, including another man with red eyes and a young man and woman who looked very similar. Ah, Benson. Melissa. It had all been a dream…
Klein's eyes wet
Leonard spent some time in his room secretly writing poetry, something he dared not do during the day. His eyelids grew heavy, and he decided to go to sleep, only to hear a loud scream coming from the young master's room.
He grabbed his sword and rushed to open the young master's door. No intruder? Was the young master just having a nightmare? Leonard intended to comfort him as a friend would, but instead smelled the strong scent of blood. Young Master Klein, still reeling from a nosebleed, was dazed. Leonard pulled the bell and grabbed the young master's shoulder; he was now very pale, blood still flowing from his mouth. Bitten lip? Then he trembled and coughed up more blood. Coughing up blood! From what Leonard could remember, Young Master Klein had never coughed up blood before. He stared wide-eyed at his blood-stained hands. In an instant, the master and young mistress burst in, their faces pale and filled with panic. Emlyn went to check on the young master but stopped short.
Plop, plop.
Clear tears streamed from the young master's eyes, staining his cheeks and chin, and dripping onto his hands.
The young master looked at his family and wept silently.