The Soul in a Stone

At the mention of the guards, the brat pinned beneath me squirmed, but his small frame was no match for someone putting their full weight on him.

Everything about the situation was appalling—from the way Verenon casually spoke about severing hands to the way he referred to a human being as “it.” Yet, I seemed to be the only one horrified. Elliot merely looked on with disgust, regarding the pickpocket as if he were looking at something filthy.

I felt like I should be getting used to this world by now, but at the same time, I felt a sense of relief that I hadn’t entirely abandoned my modern sensibilities. This discomfort was proof that I had a life before I became Llewellyn Edwill.

“Forget it. That’s enough… Let’s just let him go.”

At my words, Verenon stared at me intently, his lips twisting into a smirk. It seemed I had touched a nerve again.

“Why? Do you feel sorry for it?”

“It’s not that. Just because.”

Honestly, I wasn’t some grand, righteous saint or a philanthropist. If a pickpocket were caught by the guards and had his hand cut off somewhere out of my sight, I would have just felt a brief pang of pity for his youth. I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to save him or vowed to support him for the rest of his life.

But at the very least, since it was happening right in front of me and within my power to stop, I could do this much. It wasn’t a massive sacrifice; I was just letting him go. I could just consider those few silver coins lost.

“Isn’t it only natural to take responsibility for one’s own mistakes?”

It was almost comical hearing those words coming from Kyle Verenon, of all people. Wasn’t he the ultimate example of someone who never took responsibility for his wrongdoings?

“He’s still a child. If it were a major crime, it might be different.”

Looking at the boy, whose poverty was written all over him, I wondered if he ever really had a choice in becoming a pickpocket. If so, I couldn’t bring myself to place the blame entirely on his shoulders. It would be one thing if he had a better path and chose to abandon it, but for a starving child in the slums, the ways to make money were painfully obvious.

“Does showing such half-baked sympathy actually make you feel better?”

“What?”

Verenon’s eyes sank into a dark, sharp glare. I was certain now that he had been intentionally using provocative language about the guards just to bait me. We hadn’t been under contract for long, yet it seemed the novelty was already wearing off, and he was testing to see exactly how much I would tolerate.

While I was debating whether to treat him as an “angry” child or an angry “child,” Elliot lost his patience first.

“Why are you taking your frustration out on someone else? Does asserting your ego in such a pathetic way make you feel better?”

“Frustration? Me?”

“What else would you call it? Do you think I’m an easy target because I’ve been letting things slide? If you’re going to go around causing trouble just to fill the hole in your own lack of self-esteem, then just drop it.”

The atmosphere turned icy. Passersby began to linger, drawn by the rare sight of noble young masters brawling in the street.

Elliot and Verenon were openly bristling at one another. Swallowing a sigh, I decided to settle the pickpocket situation first to contain the fallout.

After whispering to the boy to stay still, I lightly stepped on his calf. He tried to sit up but didn’t dare try to run, looking terrified that his leg might snap if he moved.

I pulled the pouch from his tightly clenched small hand. With so many eyes on us, he’d only get robbed again the moment he left if he carried this. Instead, I skillfully slipped two silver coins I had pulled out into the front pocket of his jacket.

“Go, quickly, while they’re fighting.”

His face was smudged with soot and dirt, but his eyes were round and beautiful like a calf’s. His lips trembled as if he wanted to say something, but he just gave a small shiver and bolted.

I had hoped for a quick resolution, but the confrontation between Elliot and Verenon showed no signs of cooling down. Neither of them was stupid enough to truly cross the line, so they’d probably be fine once their tempers cooled. Regardless, rather than jumping in to force them apart, it seemed better to let them air out their grievances. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t want to get involved in a fight between Elliot, who would be going home soon, and Verenon, whom I had no intention of seeing once the tour was over.

Ideally, they’d fight somewhere quieter… but they’d tire themselves out eventually.

I decided to go buy something to drink. I had noticed a stall nearby.

“Orange juice, please.”

I didn’t have high expectations for juice sold at a street stall. It would likely be low-quality fruit juice diluted with water and sugar, or a mass-produced syrup. In times like these, the most generic menu item was the safest bet. I initially ordered two cups but then wondered if that was being a bit too petty. Excluding one “child” from a treat weighed a bit on my conscience.

“And one more—the least popular flavor.”

“The most popular one…”

The boy at the stall met my eyes and finished his sentence with a late “…please.” Short brown hair, blue eyes. A shirt of mediocre quality and suspenders. He looked completely different than before, yet I recognized the face instantly.

“You… Eli—mph!”

Elizabeth Luxsteel, who had been staring at me blankly, hurriedly clamped her hand over my mouth. Why was she here? And what was with this look? Then again, it wasn’t that surprising to find a Luxsteel in Lovenus. Her aunt, Rebecca Luxsteel, was a name that couldn’t be ignored when discussing famous figures in this city. I had harbored a small hope that I might run into Elizabeth since she was close to her aunt, but I never expected to meet her like this.

When I carefully placed my hand over the one covering my mouth, a startled Elizabeth grabbed my hand and pulled me into a corner. Her agility was so impressive that even Spellman would have been moved to admiration. Once we were tucked into a gap between buildings, she let go and pulled a crumpled hat from her trouser pocket, tugging it on.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to, I mean, well…”

“Calm down. More importantly, why are you here?”

“That’s what I want to ask you! What on earth are you doing here?”

As I calmed her down, seeing her so excessively shocked and flustered felt familiar. Come to think of it, at the banquet, Luxsteel had also acted like she didn’t know what to do with herself when I was around.

“I’m on a trip with Elliot. Verenon is acting as our guide, so we’re looking around.”

“Verenon? You don’t mean ‘Crazy Verenon’… I mean, Kyle Verenon?”

“Uh… yeah.”

Crazy Verenon. That was a blunt nickname. It seemed his inability to get along with his peers wasn’t just because of his status. I hadn’t realized he was quite that famous, though. It was just a shame the Viscountess still didn’t know the truth about her son.

“More importantly, you. Don’t you have something to tell me?”

“Oh heavens…” Luxsteel gasped, then quickly clamped her mouth shut. She knew exactly what I was talking about.

“A-ah, so you found out.”

Luxsteel hung her head low and whispered a small “I’m sorry…” The person who needed to apologize wasn’t her, but she had felt responsible, which had been weighing on her mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you… CC—I mean, you proposed to Cedric. So I thought you were being really serious. I didn’t think it was my place to say something so important…”

“Wait, what?”

Among her rapid-fire words was a term that absolutely should not have been there. Doubting my own ears, I cut her off. Luxsteel just blinked at me with a bewildered expression.

“Did you just say ‘propose’? As in, a marriage proposal?”

“Does ‘propose’ have a different meaning in the capital?”

“No. In the capital, it means exactly that. But I have no idea what you’re talking about. When on earth did I ever propose to C… to Cedric Klein?”

It was absurd. Even when I didn’t know CC was Cedric Klein, I swear on my life I never thought of him that way. Sure, I thought of him as a like-minded friend. I’ll even admit to having a bit of a fresh, youthful crush. But a proposal? The weight of those two things was worlds apart.

However, seeing my look of horror, Luxsteel tilted her head even further, looking even more confused.

“But you gave him a gemstone that matches your eye color.”

“What?”

‘Giving a gem that matches your eye color… how romantic of you.’

I had heard those words two years ago. I couldn’t even remember the clerk’s voice, but the content came back to me with startling clarity. I finally realized why the clerk had said that when I was buying the necklace. Why C… no, Cedric Klein, had looked so incredibly happy when he received it. And—f*ck—why he had kissed me.

“Are you insane…”

I thought I had just been digging my own grave, but it turns out I had climbed into the coffin and closed the lid myself.

I knew that gems matching one’s eye color held a special meaning in the Empire. When Elliot had come to negotiate, the Countess hadn’t chosen a blue-violet brooch for no reason. A gem resembling one’s eyes was a special gift given to someone who was irreplaceable. Anyone who saw that ornate brooch would have guessed the relationship between Dillon and Edwill was something special.

“The eyes represent the soul. Giving a gem that matches your eyes is a classic way of saying you’re giving them your soul—it’s a traditional proposal. I never imagined you didn’t know that.”

I didn’t even know that eyes represented the soul. I knew regional customs differed, but for something so famous even children knew it… it was strange that I was in the dark. I almost suspected she was lying for the sake of her relative. When I looked at her with suspicious eyes, Luxsteel clutched her chest, looking truly aggrieved.