Second Life, I’m Dying Soon Chapter 19

 

Chapter 19

“…Isn’t that good enough?”

At the voice that slyly intruded, Cecil snapped his head around. The apprentice knight resting under the shade of a tree with him scratched his head awkwardly.

Was his name Rocco? He was rather small for a knight, which was why he had been paired with Cecil during training. Of course, in terms of skill, Rocco was far superior.

Rocco, looking sheepish, blushed and smiled. Ignoring propriety, he leaned in close to whisper into Cecil’s ear.

“This is a secret, but… I actually like men, just like you. Maybe that’s why, but honestly, this time of day is such a treat for the eyes.”

“Is that why you joined the Order?”

“No! That has nothing to do with it! Becoming a knight was my dream from the very start!”

Rocco passionately defended himself. The young man, who idolized the knights, sparkled his pebble-black eyes as he declared,

“I’m going to become a great knight, just like the Commander!”

Cecil recognized the emotion in his eyes. That wistful gaze was something often seen in those who had fallen in love.

“You like Claude, don’t you?”

“…Yes. He’s amazing.”

“Him?”

Cecil leaned back slightly, glancing at Claude, who was chatting with someone in the distance. Pfft. A breath of laughter slipped out.

“You have terrible taste.”

“Huh? Commander Vandell is considered one of the top bachelors in the empire… Just how high are your standards?”

Instead of answering, Cecil merely smiled faintly.

There was one thing that many people misunderstood—Cecil didn’t feel attraction to men in general; he had simply happened to love a man.

The only person who had ever held his heart was someone incomparable in nobility and beauty. There was a reason Cecil’s standards had risen so high.

“So high that you’d be shocked.”

A fresh breeze blew from somewhere, wrapping around Cecil’s entire body. The lingering heat dissipated, leaving him more at ease as his gaze turned toward Saint’s Palace in the distance.

Even after being given another chance at life, he still couldn’t let go of Alexis. He was repeating a life filled with unresolved longing.

A love he could never confess—was this truly the right path? Even when he asked himself, the answer was already set in stone. He was destined to love Alexis until the day he died.

 

***

 

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, gently soaking the crown of Cecil’s head and the left side of his face in its warmth.

It was so pleasantly warm that he kept nodding off throughout the entire lesson like a sickly chick.

Even when Viscount Gerald banged on the desk—thud, thud—it was useless. His half-lidded eyes kept drooping, and his head bobbed up and down as if keeping time with an invisible rhythm.

He wasn’t dozing off to slack off—he was genuinely exhausted and simply passed out.

“If you’re so desperate to sleep, solve all these problems first!”

At the sight of the problem sheet thrust before him, Cecil lazily lifted his half-closed eyes. Propping his chin on one hand, he scribbled down the answers without hesitation before tossing aside the pen. As he slumped forward into sleep, Viscount Gerald began grading his work.

“…Huh?”

A perfect score. He had been listening with one ear and letting it out the other, so how on earth was this possible?

Viscount Gerald stared at the sleeping Cecil, bewildered and suspicious. The man was impossible to figure out, yet he had already curled up and drifted into a deep slumber.

After a brief nap to recover his energy, Cecil would be back to his sharp self. Then, he would head straight to Alexis’s office.

His afternoon schedule had become busier, leaving him with only an hour or two to spare in the office, but that time was an essential part of his daily routine.

Now that his debutante was over, his days had become surprisingly free. Sitting idly at his desk, Cecil would occasionally meet Alexis’s gaze and flash him a bright smile. Of course, the response was never all that welcoming.

Lately, Alexis seemed incredibly busy.

The knight order, the newly established garrison in the Black Forest, and the endless meetings with nobles seeking to build connections—all these responsibilities weighed heavily on Alexis.

The administrative duties entrusted to him by the emperor were always stacked beside his desk like an ever-growing tower. If he didn’t finish them today, an even larger pile would await him tomorrow, forcing him to stay in his office late into the night.

His sharp nose and jawline had grown even more defined due to his gauntness, and a deep vertical line appeared between his brows whenever he read documents. Pressing against his temple had now become an unconscious habit.

Cecil wondered if he was even getting any proper sleep. Alexis, who looked more irritable than usual, seemed to have reached his limits.

Unable to hold back, Cecil spoke up.

“Your Highness, give me something to do.”

“…….”

“I’m free. Put me to work however you like. You’ve seen that I’m quite capable, haven’t you?”

A sharp gaze shot toward him, piercing through.

Whenever Cecil made such offers, Alexis would usually dismiss them as nonsense and not even bother responding. But today, for some reason, he handed over a few documents.

Of course, they were just menial tasks that even a servant could handle.

Cecil knew Alexis wouldn’t entrust him with anything important, so he gladly accepted even that. Pride was meaningless if he could be of help.

As Cecil diligently worked on the given tasks, Alexis left for a scheduled meeting.

Whenever he stepped out, the attendants who usually stood guard by his desk also disappeared. They had rushed out to deal with a commotion outside.

Taking advantage of the empty office, Cecil hovered near Alexis’ desk.

A memo, scribbled in familiar handwriting, lay on the cluttered surface. Cecil rested a hand on the desk’s edge and swiftly scanned its contents.

Just then, the door opened, and footsteps approached. Cecil immediately straightened his posture. The attendants returning to their posts cast him a suspicious glance.

“Should I leave the documents here?”

At times like this, it was best to act brazenly.

Cecil casually tossed the stack of parchment he had been carrying onto Alexis’ desk. He then dusted off his hands and stretched with an exaggerated yawn.

“I’m exhausted. Since I’ve finished my tasks, I’ll be heading back.”

“We’ll escort you to the palace, Lord Cecil.”

“No need. Just focus on guarding the office. Where were you wandering off to when His Highness wasn’t even here?”

He chided them as if scolding unruly subordinates before strolling out with his hands clasped behind his back, exuding an air of leisure.

The moment he stepped into Peridot Palace, however, Cecil quickened his pace. He headed straight for the library and retrieved his hidden prophecy book.

Flipping through the pages rapidly, he found the meticulously recorded list of nobles. Based on the memo he had glimpsed earlier, Alexis was currently searching for a chief aide.

“No way. That guy is going to stab you in the back later. Am I supposed to just watch that happen again?”

Cecil quickly scanned the names. He was anxious to pick the right person.

As his teeth worried his lip and his eyes darted over the list, a familiar name finally caught his attention.

“There you are.”

A slow grin curled on Cecil’s lips. There was no one more suitable than this. Tristan Dyke, the second son of Count Dyke.

Because he was a second son, he wouldn’t inherit the title, but his abilities were outstanding. In the future, he would enter the imperial palace and serve as the emperor’s administrative secretary. Cecil remembered Tristan well because they had clashed countless times when he had worked as a strategist.

Smart, unyielding, and fiercely independent, Tristan refused to align himself with any faction. While difficult to handle, once he pledged loyalty, he remained unwaveringly devoted.

If Alexis could secure him as a close aide, it would undoubtedly be a huge asset in expanding his influence within the imperial court.

“The problem is… I don’t exactly have the best relationship with him.”

Cecil drummed his fingers on the desk, sinking into thought. The mere idea of dealing with that stubborn man again already made him sigh.

The only saving grace was that, at this point in time, they had yet to cross paths.

…Should he try to win him over? As the idea took shape, Cecil pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

The odds seemed favorable. He knew Tristan’s personality, his speech patterns—everything. If he had that much insight, gaining his favor wouldn’t be too difficult.

A concrete plan began to form. The thought of helping Alexis made his heart pound with anticipation. 

There was no reason to delay. He had to act now. Exhaling deeply, Cecil called out loudly toward the hall.

“Leo! Bring me some stationery!”

 

***

 

That evening, Cecil arrived at the Dyke estate and presented an invitation to Count Alfonso Dyke, who had come to greet him.

Count Dyke was a prominent figure in high society. With his vast connections and love for socializing, he kept his estate open as a frequent venue for gatherings. His mansion was practically a gateway into the aristocratic world.

Cecil’s sudden visit left Count Dyke momentarily flustered. Though he offered a warm welcome, a hint of wariness lingered in his expression.

A letter had abruptly arrived the previous night, requesting to attend the gathering. Count Alfonso had sent an invitation as a courtesy, but he never expected Cecil to actually show up.

“It must have been a hassle. Thank you for humoring my request.”

“A hassle? It’s an honor to be here.”

The count’s expression clearly conveyed, You really came? but he skillfully guided Cecil inside. Since he was royalty, there was no choice but to accommodate him.

While salons were usually held during the day, clubs always came to life after sunset.

The unique aspect of these clubs was that they were exclusive social gatherings for noblemen. Most attended to indulge in alcohol and pleasure, shaking off the weariness of the day. Though the gentlemen present carried themselves with decorum, the conversations held here were not all that different from those in the salons—mainly gossip about society and political affairs.

As soon as Cecil stepped inside, the room momentarily fell silent, and all eyes turned toward him. Half of the gazes were filled with surprise, the other half with thinly veiled disapproval.

He merely waved a hand through the hazy cigarette smoke lingering in the air, showing no sign of unease. Instead, he flashed a charming smile at the gentlemen.

He didn’t use it often, but Cecil had an innate talent for captivating people.