“Yes. Both my fathers, huff, did……”

Speaking made the training even harder. The cadence started again. One, two. One, two. Now even distracting thoughts began to disappear.

“Cecil, you’re almost done! Just five more! One.”

He could feel his face turning red, seemingly ready to burst. The taste of blood rose in his throat. Ellen counted the final five on her fingers while repeating the cadence.

“One, two. Done!”

“Ugh!”

Cecil flopped face down on the floor and closed his eyes. The floor, trampled by students, felt cool like a marble mat. His arms trembled, and with all strength drained from his body, he didn’t want to open his eyes. Then he felt something soft on his forehead, and when he slightly opened his eyes, he saw Ellen with a worried expression.

“Are you okay? The professor was a bit too harsh. They say he always torments the students he likes.”

Delicate fingers thoroughly wiped his forehead and eyelashes, then playfully mocked the professor. Cecil grinned with understanding. Seeing that, Ellen’s heart fluttered pleasantly.

She had been fond of Cecil since entering the academy. Among the three siblings, he had the most modest appearance, but to her, no man compared to Cecil. He resembled a wildflower standing alone among fully bloomed roses.

Not immediately noticeable, but the more you looked, the more his pure features and gentle manners exuded a unique fragrance. Other students recognized this too, giving him the embarrassing nickname “Knight of the Lily of the Valley” even before he was officially knighted. She knew at least five female students who had taken a liking to Cecil.

“Need water?”

“Yes, please.”

At his pleading tone, Ellen giggled and pulled out a small water pouch she had prepared. Cecil groaned and emptied the pouch instantly with trembling arms. Only after finishing did he seem to realize something and handed the pouch back with an apologetic expression.

“Wasn’t this for you? Sorry, I drank it all.”

“Don’t worry about it. Can you stand up?”

“Yes.”

Cecil groaned again and stood up unsteadily. His whole body looked damp, soaked through with sweat. Only then did Cecil seem to become conscious of his appearance and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

“I must smell of sweat.”

“Not at all. You don’t smell of anything!”

It was true. Unlike other male students, Cecil always had a fluffy, soft fragrance even right after training. At first, she thought he used perfume and asked him, but Cecil only responded with “Perfume?” Ellen bit her lip and tucked the handkerchief with Cecil’s sweat into her pocket.

“Um, if you’re okay with it, would you spar with me,”

“Brother.”

“Huh?”

Just then, Cyrus’s voice was heard. Standing a few steps away, Cyrus was holding a wooden sword alone.

“Spar with me.”

“Oh! Just a moment! Ellen, what were you saying?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Go quickly. Cyrus is waiting.”

Ellen, who had lost her chance, tried to hide her disappointment as she pushed Cecil’s back. She felt the slender muscles fitting his lean body under her palm. Cecil gave an eye-greeting saying “Well then,” and ran to his brother.

“Sigh.”

Still happy that she had exchanged a few words with Cecil today, Ellen was smiling to herself when she felt someone’s gaze. Looking up, she saw Cyrus’s vivid blue eyes casting an emotionless glance in her direction. Wondering why he was looking at her that way, she smiled awkwardly, but Cyrus simply shifted his gaze back to his brother seemingly without noticing.

‘He’s… kind of scary.’

Though they were siblings and he was even a year younger, there was something unsettling about Cyrus. His appearance, seemingly stepped out of a painting, and his abilities that excelled in every aspect were not just attractive but peculiarly so, but Ellen always felt uncomfortable around Cyrus.

His inscrutable gaze, brusque attitude, and his tendency to ignore everyone except his sister and brother—there wasn’t a single thing about him that she liked.

Ellen rubbed her arms regretfully and looked for a sparring partner. Still, she was indescribably happy that she had been able to have a friendly conversation with Cecil today.

*

“Your stance is wrong.”

“Ah.”

“Tired?”

Cecil made a face of belated realization only after his brother pointed out that his stance was wrong. After correcting his foot position, Cecil readjusted his grip on the wooden sword.

“I think I’m too drained.”

“You should pace yourself… Never mind.”

Cyrus, who had been complaining irritably, sighed. Cecil didn’t know moderation. If he could cut corners, he should do so appropriately, but instead he foolishly did everything as instructed, so by now his stamina would be completely depleted.

As evidence, Cecil’s concentration had significantly dropped today, and the arm holding his sword visibly trembled from fatigue.

“Put down your sword and come here.”

“Why?”

Cecil asked but obediently placed his wooden sword on the ground and approached Cyrus. Cyrus also put his sword down and then turned Cecil around to face away from him.

“Ow! That hurts!”

“Bear with it. It’ll hurt more later if I don’t loosen these muscles now.”

“No, it really hur—ow!”

Strong hands mercilessly kneaded Cecil’s forearms. Hands large enough to cover Cecil’s small face when spread out pressed firmly here and there. The strength felt almost like he was venting frustration.

Despite Cecil twisting his body this way and that, Cyrus held him firmly with one hand to prevent escape while the other hand worked on his still-warm forearms. The students training nearby burst into laughter at the sight of Cecil squirming like a salted worm. The swordsmanship professor passing by let out a hearty laugh.

“How can you be exactly like your fathers? Edwin used to do the same to Leira.”

“Cyrus can’t help himself when it comes to Cecil.”

Alesia, who had been in the middle of sparring, suddenly jumped in and teased them with a laugh.

“He’s never done this for me.”

“Alesia, who would want to do this for someone who prances around like a wild foal…”

“A wild foal?!”

“I really don’t know who you take after. Neither Leira nor Edwin had a personality like yours.”

“I take after Papa Leira!”

At those words, Cyrus and Cecil simultaneously cast meaningful glances at Alesia. Their expressions clearly showed they couldn’t agree. But Alesia, seemingly unconcerned with her brothers’ opinions, snorted and quickly disappeared back to her sparring.

“Are your muscles feeling better now?”

“Yeah. Much lighter. Thanks.”

Cecil smiled while rotating his shoulders and tilting his neck to the right and left. The sparring resumed. The sound of wooden swords clashing was crisp. The training hall was sweltering with summer heat, and Cecil’s forehead was dotted with beads of sweat.

Despite having his muscles loosened, his depleted stamina was unavoidable; his arms trembled each time he blocked Cyrus’s sword.

“Why are you going easy on me?”

“I’m not.”

When Cecil asked as their swords met, Cyrus answered while swinging his arm. Instantly, Cecil was pushed back several steps. Though it seemed like a light swing, it carried tremendous force. Cecil bit his lower lip firmly, then charged forward with a shout, pushing off the ground, while Cyrus, standing in perfect posture, swung his sword horizontally.

Crack!

“…Brother lost.”

The match was decided in an instant. Cecil laughed dryly as he looked down at the wooden sword pressed against the right side of his neck.

“I’m just losing all day today.”

He couldn’t help but grumble in frustration. Usually, he managed to win against Cyrus occasionally, but in today’s depleted state, it seemed impossible.

“It’s because you’re tired.”

Cyrus extended his hand. After staring at it blankly for a moment, Cecil grasped it and stood up. Cyrus then looked around, apparently searching for Cecil’s sword.

“It’s here. That was an impressive match.”

“Even though I lost?”

Ellen, who had picked up the sword, approached with a bright smile. As Cecil took the sword while joking, the professor’s voice announced the end of class.

“Today’s lesson is over. Dismissed!”

Finally, the grueling training had ended. Cecil sighed with relief as he placed his wooden sword in the storage box, planning to return to the dormitory and take a bath. Just then, Ellen, who was putting away her sword beside him, held out a handkerchief.

“You’re sweating a lot.”

“Ah, thank you.”

He accepted the handkerchief without suspicion, but felt something rustling inside it. There seemed to be something tucked into the handkerchief. When he raised his puzzled gaze to Ellen, he saw her smiling calmly.

“Return the handkerchief tomorrow. I’ll be going now!”

Ellen cheerfully said goodbye and left, giggling with her friends. Cyrus, who had been organizing his sword nearby, came closer.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.”

Cecil casually put the handkerchief in his pocket and shook his head.

*

After class, Cecil returned to the dormitory, gathered fresh clothes, and headed straight for the bathroom.

“I’ll shower first.”

“Okay.”

After locking the bathroom door, he took the handkerchief from his pocket and heard a rustling sound. His lips felt dry with anticipation. Carefully unfolding it, he found a note folded in half. When he opened the paper, neat and cute handwriting jumped out.

<Cecil, hello. I think you can guess why I’m giving you this note. If you’re okay with it, would you meet me behind the training hall tomorrow evening at eight? I’d like you to give me a chance. I’ll be waiting.>

It was a note with a brief message. Anyone who wasn’t a fool could guess why Ellen had passed this note. Cecil sighed and buried his face in his knees. His chest felt like it would burst, but this wasn’t the positive feeling of anticipation or excitement from expecting a confession.

Cecil unconsciously checked for any presence outside the door. He found it difficult to explain exactly how he felt.

Do I want to reject her? Or accept her?

Ellen was certainly a good friend. Her bright, positive, attentive, and affectionate personality made her popular among classmates. Moreover, she was a beautiful woman with a sunny warmth, and her academic performance was excellent too. She was flawless in many ways.

Why would someone like that like him? And why was he concerned about Cyrus’s reaction? That incident had ended years ago.

He couldn’t understand himself. Perhaps the incident still remained like a scar. Cecil took a deep breath as he removed his clothes and sat on the edge of the bathtub. Soon, where Cecil had been sitting, a snake appeared instead of a person.

This too had become a habitual behavior. Though he couldn’t remember when it started, Cecil would revert to his snake form when faced with situations he found difficult to handle. Being in human form felt overwhelmingly pressuring.

Still, swimming around in the bathwater in animal form seemed to improve his mood somewhat. He wanted to disappear, ignoring both Cyrus and Ellen.

Cecil submerged himself underwater, holding his breath. He stayed at the bottom of the tub for a while. When he finally emerged for air, he had returned to his human form.

“…..”

He had to reach a conclusion one way or another by eight o’clock tomorrow night.

*

No matter how Cecil tried to hold it back, time strode forward boldly, and the day Ellen mentioned arrived.

“This one? Or this one. What do you want to eat?”