Author: Lioness

Fakes Don’t Want To Be Real

~ Chapter 112 ~

 

“N, no, that’s not it…”

“If not, whatever is it then?”

 

Thud. Overwhelmed by the pressure she was given, she collapsed to the ground and her face turned pale while trembling.

 

“I-I just thought i-it was a game… so…”

 

Tears welled up in her frightened eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Her tears trickled down from her frightened eyes. She looked completely pitiful and vulnerable to make a stranger approach her, but no one even tried to console her. Not even Eric, who was said to be deeply involved with her.

 

“H, hiccup…”

 

Out of frustration, embarrassment, and shame, Lillian began to cry. Her sorrowful cries filled the silent hall, but Psychke didn’t pity her mistake. She merely gazed at her with coldness then gestured to the referee that it was over.

The referee scrambled to organize the game like a man being chased.

 

“T, the winner is Princess Glorielle!”

 

* *

Lillian didn’t have to wait long to see her name disappear from the board. As the winner, she should have gotten her name engraved, but as she had no desire to do so, Psychke immediately withdrew. With Verndia, they left the game.

 

“Ha, really.”

 

Verdia was furious, saying he wouldn’t have left Lillian alone if the princess hadn’t stopped him.

 

“You know it’s all a lie, and I only have you.”

“Yes, I know.”

 

Psychke, holding his hand tightly, smiled faintly. The warmth from his voice and hand soothed her resentment. He then whispered softly.

 

“You are the only one for me, Princess.”

“Me too. Uhm, time has flown, so shall we head upstairs? I need to buy a ghost-catching net.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay and watch?”

“We can look around as we go.”

 

Nodding her head in understanding, Verndia turned around. To get to the top, she had to pass through the parade area. The orange, fluorescent juice meant that the majority of the crowd were children, but that didn’t stop them from pushing through the crowds.

 

“Whoa, look up there. They’re breathing fire up there!”

“Cotton candy is only a silver!”

“This cheap price is only for today!”

 

The unrestrained cheers, promotions, and blaring music hurt their ears. And this experience was all parts of the festival and she almost lost sight of Verndia due to the crown.

 

“I’ll just pass by for a moment! No, let me get out of the way, really… Ack, Duke! sorry!”

 

Surprised at Verndia’s glare, the passerby moved out of the way, while scolding himself, ‘How dare I tell someone to move out of way?!’

 

Then he accidentally stepped on Psychke’s tail.

 

“Ack!”

 

She nearly fell to the ground, but Verndia quickly caught her. He scooped her up like a child and checked her over. Meanwhile, the passerby who had inadvertently stepped on her tail scurried away in fright.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Verndia forgot to chase the passerby and frantically checked on Psychke. With tears welling up in her eyes, Psychke pulled her pure white tail and looked at him over carefully.

 

“Yes, I’m fine.”

 

She was unharmed, thankfully, but there were dark stains, and she gently brushed them away.

 

“That must hurt.”

 

Verndia blew on the wound as if it were a salve. When he was done dusting, he straightened up and held him. He hugged her tightly as if soothing a whimpering three-year-old.

Psychke, drowsy and seeing the world over his shoulder, unconsciously grabbed his neck.

 

“Put me down!”

“You don’t sound convincing when you hold me like that.”

“It’s because I am scared of falling.”

“I’m not going to drop you. What’s it like to smell the air up there?”

 

She was momentarily stunned by the absurdity of his statement. The onlookers’ curious gazes met with hers and she was embarrassed.

 

‘This is shameful.’

 

Psychke’s face turned red and then her ears perked up and her tail wagged wildly. However, her fur on his neck kept tickling him and he couldn’t touch it as he’d been told not to so. But he was impatient, so he spoke up.

 

“Should I really leave these alone?”

 

Then he gave her some pink cotton candy, telling her to eat it and calm down. Psychke grabbed it but she felt like he was treating her like a kid.

Bam!

The dancer in the parade set off a firecracker. The paper shimmered with five-color lights, scattering the night sky like stardust.

Bam!

Just in time, the fireworks exploded.

The glittering paper blossomed under the colorful sky. Suddenly, it looked like a fairy dancing through the light dust, creating a fantastic scene. Psychke gazed up at the scene, embarrassment forgotten when she reached out for the sparkle.

 

“Catch it if you can.”

 

Verndia whispered, squeezing the hand that held her to keep her centered.

 

“They say if two lovers catch each to one of them, they will never fight again.”

“Do you believe in such things?”

“I don’t believe it, but does the princess?”

 

He seemed to be referring to when he caught the butterfly at Second Prince’s banquet. Psychke straightened her expression.

 

“I don’t believe in them either.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed of it.”

“No, I really don’t believe it.”

“I’ve got one, but the Princess hasn’t caught one yet.”

 

With both hands still holding her, he held out a blue piece of paper with a single word on it and only then Psychke also caught one.

 

“It was a turtle, not a cat. Don’t go calling me Swordmaster anymore, then.”

“I caught one.”

 

Psychke held out a lumpy, shiny purple piece of paper.

 

“Here.”

“Why give it to me when I don’t even have a hand? The princess should have it.”

“I don’t believe in this stuff, so the Duke can keep it.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed.”

“I’m not ashamed, I’m just – ah!”

 

Amid their bickering, they lost sight of the purple paper. It was blown away by the wind, buried in the crowd and was no longer visible to their eyes. Verndia followed it with his eyes then muttered grimly.

 

“Look at you throwing it away. Now you hate me.”

“It was a mistake.”

“A mistake? Don’t go calling me Swordmaster.”

“Even Swordmasters can make mistakes.”

“Well, being a Swordmaster means you have to be good at everything you do with your body.”

“The Duke can’t dance.”

“I can dance now.”

 

As such, they passed through the parade area and arrived at the area where people were dancing to a piece of music. A group of people, commoners, and nobles alike, were dancing a fast polka.

Psychke wordlessly raised her hand and pointed to the crowd who were dancing. Upon seeing where she was pointing, he blushed uncharacteristically.

 

“That dance is too fast.”

“You’re a bad dancer.”

“That’s not it. Even you Princess have never danced, right?”

“Not that I can’t dance.”

“Let’s see you dance.”

 

Verndia dismounted and Psychke listened to the fast-paced accordion melody. She learned the beat by watching the people move. And when the next song started, she began to move. Verndia’s eyes widened in confusion. But whatever she did, she looked cute and cuddly especially when she has her tail and ears.

Dancing hard, Psychke glanced up at him.

 

“You too, Duke.”

 

Since he was the one who said it first, he couldn’t afford to break off his word. If only her body was her original one, it would be a sight to behold…

He stared at Psyche with trepidation, then forced himself to move.

Psychke’s face hardened as she watched his dance-like flailing.

There was nothing wrong with the movements, but he wasn’t dancing. In fact, he seemed to be a moving piece of wood. Even his expression was serious as if he was doing his best. One by one, the dancers around him halted at the sight of such a rarely-seen figure.

He hesitated, but Psychke stopped him.

 

“I’m sorry…”

“…”

On that day, Verndia created a black history that will never be forgotten.

 

* *

“Did you hear that the Duke was so great that his name was going to ‘Remember’?”

“I heard that, too. They said they were going to create a new one and put the Duke’s name on it, one that dances as closely as possible to chopped wood-”

“Shut up.”

 

Where the hell did that d*mned rumor come from? Verndia, wearing a warlock impression, cut off the employee’s chatter.

 

“If you have time to play, set this up on the balcony.”

 

He handed the hired hand a ‘ghost catching net’ he’d bought at the festival.

 

“Why is this…?”

 

It’s a net, not a peanut-sized transparent ball. The employers were confused because they didn’t know what it was for. Nevertheless, they did as they were told, and over the next few days, ghost nets were placed on every balcony in the castle.

In the meantime, Verndia had been living in the library all along.

Then one day, he appeared and grabbed Psychke’s hand while she was checking the net, saying he had somewhere to go and dragged her along.

 

“Good news?”

 

The Duke’s terrible dancing skills had improved. Psychke blinked rapidly.

 

“Congratulations.”

“No, it’s not that, I found something about the ghost.”

 

Frowning, Verndia led Psychke to a study that only Lestir’s household staff could enter.

 

“Wait, not here.”

 

She knew she shouldn’t be in the purple curtain that blocked the entrance. The butler who had once shown her around the manor had kindly informed her that it was off-limits to anyone who was not a member of Lestir’s household, so she turned to leave.

But Verndia tugged at her.

 

“It’s okay, you’ll get in.”

 

She would be able to enter it?

Although dumbfounded, she did as what she had been told. She followed him through the violet curtain, bracing herself to be forced out. Surprisingly enough, she made it to the floor of the library without a hitch.

 

“Hmm?”

 

Psychke was speechless. She’d seen the butler bounce out of it, so did the duke do something?

Verndia smirked at her questioning look.

 

“I don’t believe in past lives, reincarnation, or anything like that. However, I’d probably will this time around.”

“What?”

“Because of something I found in one of the books.”

 

Remembering the wounded spirit of Psychke he’d seen on the balcony, Verndia frowned.

 

“Anyway, it was said that this room was designed only for those of Lestir’s bloodline and the first Silkisia.”

“The first Lestir seriously cared about Silkisia… Wait. One cannot enter otherwise…?”

“Yes.”

 

Taking Psychke’s hand, he stood and stepped inside.

 

“Only the first Silkisia.”

 

Psychke was silent, which meant…. Then Verndia spoke up.

 

“It says in the book, ‘The first emperor was always envious of us, who were able to live a near-eternal life through our powers.'”

“Us?”

“Us, the families who received the god’s power.”

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