I Start with a Bad Hand!

“I’m sorry for bothering the director.”

I bowed my head in apology, but Godwin’s expression remained unchanged as he questioned me.

“I never asked for an apology. I asked for an explanation of why this happened today.”

…Damn. I’d rather apologize a hundred times than try to explain this mess. Straightening my back, which didn’t seem to want to straighten, I licked my lips a few times before speaking.

“You said judging someone’s potential based on their resemblance to you is foolish.”

I could feel Godwin’s piercing gaze on my face as I barely managed to continue.

“The same applies to me. You said you saw my potential and were sure of it…. But I needed more solid evidence.”

“…And?”

“I heard that an item required for the officer’s certification is in the Duke’s mansion.”

Godwin’s face slowly darkened at that. Before I could start explaining further, he spoke again.

“…Dietrich.”

He paused for a long moment after saying my name. What he said next was unexpected.

“There wasn’t just a fire at my family’s estate.”

“…What?”

“Everyone in that household was slaughtered. From my parents, the Count and Countess, to the newly arrived servant child, everyone.”

…The identity of those who attacked the Count’s estate is still unknown. Godwin roughly undid the top button of his tightly fastened shirt. I could feel Icarus glancing down at me from beside me.

‘Wait, what? This was that big of a deal?’

As if he sensed my bewilderment, Godwin continued.

“Even though the family had fallen on hard times, it was unthinkable that everyone in the Count’s household could be massacred. The only reason I received a letter from Rosamund was that a maid working there had buried it nearby.”

Godwin stepped closer to me, draping his jacket around my shoulders.

“The Duke knew my wife was murdered in such a manner but never brought it up. And you sneaked into his mansion without telling me.”

The hands on my shoulders conveyed a mix of reprimand and concern.

“I’m sorry. I thought you would worry, and I knew it was a dangerous and reckless plan…”

“That’s why you should have told an adult. My promise to support you wasn’t just financial. It meant I would stand by you when you needed help.”

As he buttoned up my jacket, Godwin lowered his voice. Having lived as an adult for quite some time, his words felt both unfamiliar and comforting. I awkwardly ran my hand over the jacket and replied.

“I’ll make sure to do that next time. Thank you, Director.”

Godwin didn’t say anything else to my sincere reply. He had returned to his composed demeanor.

“So, what is it in this mansion that you need for the officer’s certification?”

“…A relic. An item that holds enough energy to turn back time…”

“Rosamund’s memento?”

Without batting an eye, Godwin asked again, and feeling a bit taken aback, I nodded obediently. Godwin, who had received a shawl from the butler who had approached us, turned to me and asked,

“If you find it, would you show it to me?”

“Oh, uh… yes. I’ll return it to the mansion, but I’ll let you know when I meet the time mage.”

“…Alright. I’ll be waiting.”

With a short farewell, Godwin also left, leaving just Icarus and me in the garden, alongside the now headless statue of the first Duke.

After Godwin departed, Icarus watched me silently for a while, then rubbed the back of his neck a few times.

“I’m sorry about your mother. I shouldn’t have heard such personal things.”

“It’s okay… she wasn’t my mother, and it’s not my personal story.”

Although I did feel sympathy for the former Duchess, I was overwhelmed by the new information Godwin had shared. The unsolved massacre of the Count’s family, still without answers or culprits.

‘This might be a bigger issue than I anticipated.’

Once again, a hammer-like pain spread through my chest, making my whole body ache.

***

In a corner of the vast Duke’s garden, Icarus and I sat down, hiding away. I knew it was unseemly to linger after causing such a scene, but there was nothing else I could do.

‘What’s happened to Agnes? Surely, she hasn’t been caught in the mansion still?’

Feeling uneasy, I fidgeted with the chocolate I had brought. I had no desire to eat the whiskey-filled chocolates in this situation. Yet, sometimes just holding a small refuge in my hand brought comfort.

The rustle of the wrapping in my hand caught Icarus’s attention, and without looking, he snatched the chocolate from me.

“Eating these chocolates bit by bit will get you drunk. You’ve already had several drinks.”

Beyond his weary-sounding words, I heard the crunch as he bit into the chocolate. A bout of coughing followed.

“You’ve had your fair share of drinks too.”

“Dietrich’s body is strong against alcohol.”

“…Dietrich’s body.”

His tone was uneven, almost as if a sigh or a sneer was mixed in. Losing one chocolate didn’t bother me; there were still a few left. As I examined the chocolate in the faint moonlight, trying to guess the flavor, Icarus took another one.

“Why do you keep taking them? Didn’t you say you don’t like the taste of alcohol?”

“I don’t.”

With a short reply, he unwrapped another chocolate. After the familiar crunching sound, he handed me back the wrapper.

“Fold it.”

“Fold it?”

“Fold the paper.”

Icarus nudged the wrapper in my hand, his head tilted slightly. “Fold it for me.”

Now, he was helping himself to the chocolates in my pocket without needing to ask. As I stopped his hand, I handed him a folded note instead. It was just a wrapper, but Icarus kept fiddling with the small piece of paper, as if it held some special value. He eventually tucked it into his jacket and extended his hand to me again, expectantly.

“How many are you going to eat? That’s enough.”

“Why? Are you going to eat them?”

“Yes.”

“Then no.”

With a swift movement, Icarus took another chocolate from my pocket. Despite the crunching sound and his grimacing face, he continued to unwrap and eat the chocolates one by one. Originally, I folded the notes faster than he ate the chocolates, but his pace started to slow noticeably at some point. Despite his stubborn attempts to take more chocolates, I blocked his hand and asked,

“Why do you keep eating them? You don’t seem to handle alcohol well.”

Though his face looked fine in the darkness, his voice and actions were noticeably slower. After a few light slaps to his hovering hand, he finally gave up, his hand sliding into his pocket as he spoke.

“…I just want to take something for myself.”

“Take what?”

“…”

“The alcohol?”

“…No.”

The tempo of his words was getting slower. Watching his eyes blink sluggishly despite his seemingly fine face, I rubbed my forehead in realization.

‘He’s drunk.’

Icarus, now almost leaning back against the bushes, stared at me.

“You always say no to what I give you. So I’m taking something instead.”

Something bad. As he straightened up slightly, a faint scent of alcohol wafted through his shallow breaths. Before I could stop him, he took another chocolate and put it in his mouth.

“Alcohol is a good thing.”

“That sounds like something an old man would say.”

“I am an old man.”

A soft, fleeting laugh escaped him. Only three chocolates remained. To prevent Icarus from taking another, I quickly popped one into my mouth, the sharp flavor spreading quickly.

“I’m sorry about today.”

A weak old man, if not for the influence of alcohol, couldn’t be honest. Today, I was like that. I folded another note from the wrapper in my hand and handed it to him. Though it was blank, he held it up to the moonlight as if trying to decipher a hidden message.

“Because of me, you did things you didn’t have to, and heard things you didn’t need to.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

…What does he mean it doesn’t matter? Just then, a brilliant firework burst in the sky. For a moment, Icarus’s face, shrouded in darkness, was illuminated. His slowly blinking eyes were red, unmistakably those of a drunk. Reluctantly tearing my gaze away from his profile, I looked up at the sky.

“I’ll send a signal. With fireworks.”

If I found the gem safely, there would be fireworks of all colors. If I returned alone without finding the gem, the fireworks would be orange. Her words didn’t continue, prompting an uncomfortable question from me.

“…If, by any chance, neither you nor the gem returns…?”

“Then there will be no fireworks. You might see them at my pyre.”

It was an absolutely forbidden thing to say, but all I could manage was a feeble, “It wouldn’t be a pyre… probably a hanging.”

Various unseen colors exploded into the sky, casting vibrant hues across the darkness. At that moment, with a light weight and a gentle thud, Icarus’s head leaned against me as if sharing something important. He whispered quietly in my ear.

“I like… you.”

Whether it was the fireworks exploding with loud booms, the anxiety of sitting secretly in someone else’s garden, the alcohol, or possibly an irregular heartbeat, my heart was racing faster than usual.

A coward can’t be honest without the influence of alcohol. That’s why, using the alcohol as an excuse, I asked a question I wouldn’t have asked sober.

“…Who?”

Through the booming fireworks, Icarus’s voice came softly.

“…You.”

At his words, I stood up without hesitation. I was satisfied that Agnes had made it out safely. The flamboyant signal fireworks announcing her safe escape were enough. As I was about to lift Icarus to his feet, he muttered again.

“I get it. So let’s get up and go home.”

“…You.”

With the explosion of fireworks, something deep inside me also burst open. An indescribable emotion overwhelmed me. Something that couldn’t be attributed to alcohol or arrhythmia seeped into me. His face, now completely asleep, was illuminated by the colorful fireworks. I crouched down, gazing at his face for a long time. Faint breaths exhaled, carrying the scent of alcohol.

Standing up, I took several deep breaths. Then I helped him to his feet again. 

After all, I had many responsibilities to carry forward, so I decided to bury my fragile feelings, as delicate as fireworks, deep inside me.