“I thought I would find you up here... You still sing for her on full moon nights, don't you... Ivan?”
Francesca’s soft voice abruptly cut through the chilly air, bringing the music to a sudden halt. Ivan, who was sitting quietly on a stone bench on the terrace while looking out at the glowing moon, let out a heavy sigh.
“It was the only birthday gift she ever asked for, after all,” he replied quietly.
Tak... tak...
Relying on the steady rhythm of her cane, Francesca walked across the terrace and sat down right next to him on the bench. She didn't offer any grand words, choosing instead to simply look up at the same moon. Ivan only glanced at her for a brief moment before turning his eyes back to the sky. He adjusted his grip on the guitar, slowly plucking the strings once more as a deeply melancholic expression settled over his features.
Taking a deep, sharp breath in the freezing night, he closed his eyes. When he began to sing, his voice carried a smooth, hauntingly clean melody.
“♪ came out of the blue to ♪”
“♪ drag me out somewhere I never wished to be♪”
“♪ And even though you knew you, just wouldn’t stop trying to tear me apart ♪”
“♪ One thing you should is that I never trusted you ♪”
Francesca gently leaned her head against his shoulder at this point, her gaze fixed on the endless sky. Ivan merely glanced down at her once, his fingers never missing a beat as he continued the song.
“♪ She taught me to always smile and be grateful ♪”
“♪ To never give up on anyone♪”
“♪ To stay strong, to love, But it's just so hard when I'm ♪”
“♪ I'm feeling all lonely ♪”
Ivan's voice suddenly grew thick with emotion as he reached the final chorus. His pitch cracked slightly, his eyes locked onto the sky above as his melancholic mask fractured into a look of raw, suffocating frustration on his drunken, flushed face. He forced out the final, heartbreaking line.
“♪ All lonely... ♪”
A heavy, profound silence descended upon the castle terrace the moment the last chord faded. There was absolutely nothing but the pure moonlight washing over the two silver-haired siblings, accompanied by the slow, distant gusts of wind reverberating through the valley. As they sat there, a light, powdery snow began to drift down from the clouds, dusting the entire Viscounty in white.
“Selena wouldn’t like us being like this, you know? She hated it when we fought,” Francesca spoke up, breaking the long silence. She wrapped her hand gently around his arm, keeping her head rested securely against his shoulder.
Ivan remained entirely frozen for a few seconds, staring blankly at the moon. Finally, he replied in a flat voice, “You are right.”
Shifting his weight slightly with a self-deprecating scoff, he added, “But she isn't here anymore, is she?”
Ivan reached up, his fingers gently caressing Francesca's silver hair for a few brief seconds. “We can never go back to the way we used to be, Francesca... just give up on it.”
Slowly drifting into a deep sleep against his warmth, Francesca weakly mumbled her final, groaggy thought. “So much for singing about how she taught you... to never give up on someone...”
Francesca fell fast asleep right there against his shoulder. As the quiet night stretched on, Ivan looked down at her sleeping form. “You drank far too much tonight, didn't you? You never learn to not be reckless, do you?”
Scoffing under his breath, he carefully slid his arms beneath her, lifting her into a gentle carry. The bright moonlight reflected brilliantly off his silver hair as he turned toward the doors.
Suddenly, the ethereal figure of a little girl with jet-black hair materialized out of the falling snow, standing directly in his path.
The illusionary girl's eyes pierced right through the winter air, locking directly onto him. Holding Francesca tightly against his chest, Ivan clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he stared back at the phantom of his mind.
“Go away...” he whispered harshly, his voice trembling. “You aren't even real. You don't get the right to judge me. You are already dead.”
Stepping forward, he walked right past the phantom hallucination born from his drunken mind. As he carried Francesca across the threshold and entered the dimly lit castle corridor, the little girl’s sweet voice echoed clearly from right behind his shoulder before dissolving into the air.
“It isn’t her fault, you know. You really should forgive her already.”
Ivan slowed his pace, walking down the quiet stone hallway with his sleeping sister in his arms. He muttered to the empty corridor, his voice laced with a bitter, unresolved agony.
“In my mind... I already know that. But my heart still holds onto the resentment... so I simply can't.”
Once inside her dark, quiet chambers, Ivan slowly and carefully placed Francesca down onto the soft bed, pulling the thick winter blanket up over her shoulders. He paused for a long moment after tucking her in, staring down at her peaceful features in the dim light before whispering under his breath, “You really succeeded in finding happiness out here, didn’t you? So... just stay like that, okay?”
Turning around to leave the room, yet another phantom born from his drunken mind materialized right before the large glass window. As the brilliant moonlight flooded into the room, it cast the radiant silhouette of a lady with bright blonde hair and striking golden eyes, exactly like his own, staring back at him with a silent, heavy expression.
“Mother...” he whispered to himself, before forcefully tearing his gaze away and walking toward the exit.
“I am still keeping my promise to you, unlike Father and our eldest brother. I am still protecting her, am I not?” He opened the heavy bedroom door, muttering his final defense into the empty space. “Expecting anything more from me is futile. I am also only human, you know.”
He stepped out into the corridor, slightly slamming the door behind him as he left Francesca to sleep.
Near A High End Restaurant, LeonCraft Duchy
Standing under the dim streetlamps outside the luxury establishment, a young waiter wearing a dark eye patch was carefully counting a thick stack of high-denomination bills.
His lover, who had just arrived at the end of his shift so they could walk home together, gasped out loud. “Where on earth did you manage to get so many Shella from? You are just a regular waiter, right?”
“A few days ago, the young Lord Ivan came by to dine, and in a sudden fit of irritation, he slapped me across the face,” the waiter replied casually. His lover instantly gasped, reaching up to gently hold his bruised cheek. “Oh my goodness, are you alright? Does it still hurt?”
The waiter chuckled, shaking his head reassuringly. “It hurt immensely at the time, but he immediately paid me this hefty sum of money as a direct compensation, coldly telling me to ensure I am never the one to serve him the next time he comes around.”
“B-but... this is easily enough money for us to buy a huge house!” his lover replied in absolute shock, frantically checking the authenticity of the notes.
“I honestly don’t know if it’s a massive stroke of good luck or terrible bad luck, really,” the waiter chuckled softly, linking his hand securely with his lover's as they turned and walked off together into the quiet safety of the alleyway in the night.