Second Life, I’m Dying Soon Chapter 16

 

Chapter 16


“What kind of letter even has perfume on it?”

Cecil wiped his palm roughly with a damp cloth, as if something filthy had touched him. With a flick, he tossed the cloth aside, and the attendant who had delivered the letter quickly caught it.

“Lord Cecil… about the reply…”

The attendant hesitated, kneading the cloth nervously. He could tell the atmosphere was tense, but fulfilling his duty was his top priority.

Cecil bit down hard on his lower lip. As expected, his sharp gaze cut straight through the man.

“Do I look like I have time to reply to such nonsense?”

His shirt was a wrinkled mess, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He clearly had no time to care about his appearance, let alone trivial letters.

“My apologies, Lord. However, etiquette dictates that a response must be sent…”

The attendant kept bowing his head, and a long sigh escaped Cecil’s lips. Right—what fault did the attendant have in this? Running a hand through his disheveled bangs, Cecil stepped over to his desk and grabbed a quill.

“Here. Take it.”

With a hastily scrawled response in hand, he handed it over. At last, the attendant’s expression brightened. He bowed repeatedly in gratitude before retreating.

But the letters kept coming. With the debutante ball just two days away, it was only natural that a flood of passionate suitors would try their luck.

Annoyed at the constant interruptions, Cecil glared at the letter-bearing messengers. Were they all out of their minds? He had deliberately let rumors spread that he was interested in men, yet these people kept clinging to him. He couldn’t comprehend it.

Eventually, he resorted to scribbling an ‘X’ on stacks of blank responses and leaving them out for people to take as they pleased.

‘I guess you can’t fake blood after all.’

Alexis observed the scene with great amusement. Cecil’s true nature was showing—his temper flaring at the slightest provocation.

Seeing that sharp expression on that face made him resemble Empress Elizabeth even more. And in Alexis’s eyes, that was far from a good thing.

By the time the sun had set and dinner had long passed, Cecil was still buried in work, meticulously reviewing documents. He was so absorbed that he didn’t even notice Alexis approaching.

Uninvited, Alexis reached out and picked up a few unopened letters from the desk, skimming through them with an expression of mild interest. Finally, he spoke.

“Cecil.”

“Huh?”

Seated on the desk’s edge, Cecil blinked in surprise at the sudden call. He looked up to find Alexis standing unnervingly close. His expression stiffened.

Alexis held up one of the letters.

“Baron Raymond is a decent man. He may be of common birth, but he climbed his way up and earned his title. I hear he’s quite good-looking, too.”

Cecil was so taken aback that he couldn’t even respond immediately. He stared blankly at the letter, then at Alexis, before letting out a weary sigh.

“I will choose my own partner.”

“The debutante ball is just around the corner.”

“Does Your Highness really want to see me giggling with a male partner in public?”

“The Emperor has given his official approval. What’s the issue?”

“I have my own preferences.”

“I’m curious. What are they?”

Alexis tilted his chin slightly, gesturing for him to continue.

As if he could say it. Cecil clamped his mouth shut and averted his gaze.

“…I care about looks.”

“The baron is fairly attractive.”

“He also needs a good build.”

“He’s quite tall.”

“And he should have a gentle personality.”

“That’s something you’d only know after meeting him.”

Alexis shot down each excuse without hesitation. Cecil ran a hand down his face, frustration plain on his features.

A letter was thrust toward him.

“This is a recommendation from the Crown Prince himself. It would be unthinkable for my only sibling to attend the debutante ball without a partner.”

“……”

Cecil snatched the letter from his hand.

“I had no idea Your Highness cared for me so deeply.”

His narrowed eyes flicked up to meet Alexis’s. But the prince merely held his gaze with a cool, unreadable smirk.

In the end, Cecil scribbled out an acceptance letter right in front of him. Tossing the ink-stained pen aside, he planted a palm on the desk and leaned back with a crooked posture.

“I’ve done as Your Highness wished, so allow me to make a request of my own.”

“What is it?”

“I’m having trouble deciding something. I’d like to hear your opinion.”

Without waiting for a response, Cecil moved toward the partition behind his desk and pulled it aside, revealing another hidden table.

Atop the dark maple table sat a large wooden box.

Alexis stepped closer, peering into the box. Inside was an intricate model—a scaled-down replica of the palace’s grand banquet hall.

“You’ve created something interesting.”

“There’s only so much you can do with imagination alone. A model makes it easier to predict things more intuitively. It also allows for a clear view of the overall composition.”

“This is a rather clever approach. How did you come up with it?”

Alexis covered his mouth with his palm, his blue eyes flashing with intrigue.

Until now, all designs had been laid out solely in drawings. But Cecil’s method was not only practical but almost revolutionary. Perhaps the same approach could be used for the Black Forest garrison’s defenses.

Cecil, however, showed no hint of pride. He simply adjusted the model with a calm, methodical hand.

“The banquet hall entrance—what do you think about raising it like this?”

“And the reason?”

“The entrance is currently level with the floor. If there’s a step, it will naturally draw more attention to those entering. There will be over five hundred attendees at the ball. Since the debutantes are the main focus, I thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to highlight them further.”

“A royal banquet is still a courtly event. No matter how grand or modest, the central attention should always remain on the imperial family. Are you unaware of that?”

“That’s exactly why I’m asking.”

Alexis studied the model in silence. From the royal family’s perspective, rejecting Cecil’s proposal would be the correct decision.

However, as he pictured Yuria making her entrance onto the raised platform, his previously tight lips curved into a faint smile.

“It’s not a bad idea. Though the elders won’t like it.”

“I figured as much.”

“I’ll approve it. If anyone complains, they can simply blame it on the Crown Prince’s lack of knowledge about debutantes. That should be enough of an excuse.”

Cecil’s lips parted slightly, as if realizing something important. Alexis had spent his coming-of-age in the Black Forest.

“Ah… so this is Your Highness’s first debutante ball.”

“That’s right. A rite of passage for most, but something unfamiliar to me.”

“Debutantes aren’t anything special. Just another predictable ballroom event.”

“You speak as if you’ve experienced one yourself.”

The elegant smile on Alexis’s face vanished the moment his gaze locked with Cecil’s. Straightening his posture, he resumed his usual detached tone.

“You’ve done well. The timeline was tight, but you managed to pull it off flawlessly. There should be no issues. I’ll inform His Majesty of your efforts.”

“There’s no need for that. I wasn’t seeking praise.”

Cecil replied halfheartedly, but Alexis raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t want anything?”

“…Not entirely.”

Cecil rubbed his arm absentmindedly. The truth was, the praise he wanted wasn’t from the Emperor—it was from Alexis. Maybe he could be a little selfish just this once.

“Do you remember promising to teach me swordsmanship?”

“I do.”

“Then let’s begin right after the debutante ball. I’m ready.”

Alexis let out a faint laugh. He must really want to learn. Despite being surrounded by royal guards, Cecil insisted on wielding a sword himself—something Alexis still found difficult to understand.

“Very well. A promise is a promise.”

At the half hearted response, Cecil’s exhaustion melted away. A satisfied smile spread across his face.

 

***

 

The day of the debutante ball. Under the crisp morning sunlight, the imperial palace stirred awake as usual.

The grand banquet hall was in the final stages of preparation. From the moment the sun rose, the palace staff had been moving about busily, their energy heightened by the anticipation of the event.

By midday, Cecil finally stirred from a rare deep sleep.

Still drowsy, he gave the bell rope a lazy tug. At once, the attendants waiting outside burst into action, rousing their sluggish master from bed and filling the bathtub with steaming water.

They poured in so much bath salt that the scent of flowers wafted all the way into the bedroom.

“Please wake up properly, my lord. Would you like some cold mint tea to chase away the sleep?”

“…No, I’m fine.”

Pushed along by his attendants, Cecil was practically dragged into the bathroom. As he soaked in the warm water, several attendants set to work, diligently washing him and lathering his hair.

While others had been up since dawn preparing their appearances, Cecil felt utterly detached from it all.

In fact, he let out a long yawn, wiping away the tear that formed at the corner of his eye. Above him, a particularly sharp gaze was fixed on him. Tilting his head back, he met the eyes of his chief attendant.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“My lord, are you not even a little nervous?”

“What’s there to be nervous about? It’s just a debutante ball—nothing worth making a fuss over.”

Cecil scooped up some water and splashed his face again. Though he was finally waking up, his mood remained at rock bottom.

It was only natural—he had already experienced a debutante ball in his previous life.

But his attendants seemed to feel differently. More dedicated than ever, they fussed over him with meticulous care. Once his hair was dried to a soft fluff, they combed it with an ivory brush soaked in fragrant oil and patted rosewater onto his skin.

His dark brown hair gleamed with a luster that made even him want to reach out and touch it. His already fair complexion took on a delicate, dewy glow.

Then came the process of dressing him. There was no budget for a brand-new outfit, but among his belongings, he had plenty of ceremonial attire he had never worn. His attendants carefully selected the brightest and most extravagant pieces.

“Hmm, none of these.”

Cecil shook his head at the row of garments laid out before him. To his eyes, they were all outdated.

“That one looks fine.”

“…Pardon?”

“Bring it over.”

He pointed decisively at a few pieces tucked away in the corner of the wardrobe. A crisp white shirt and black trousers—timeless choices. Lastly, he picked a deep navy waistcoat embroidered with gold thread. Of all the options, it was the most wearable.

Leo, his chief attendant, let out an exasperated sigh.

“Everyone else will be dressed in dazzling attire… How could you be the only one in such a somber outfit?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I shine on my own just fine.”

And indeed, once dressed, Cecil cut a striking figure. His lean frame carried any outfit with ease.

“Don’t you think?”

After securing a cream-colored cravat around his collar, he examined his reflection, seemingly satisfied. A pleased smile curled his lips, and a faint flush bloomed across his cheeks. His attendants had no choice but to agree—

“Of course, Lord Cecil. No one will be more stunning than you today.”

With a quiet determination, Leo slipped a pearl bracelet onto Cecil’s wrist.

His tireless efforts to make his master stand out the most were tearful.