Second Life, I’m Dying Soon Chapter 22

Chapter 22

“Y-Your Highness!”

The moment Tristan saw the dazzling hair, he recognized the man’s identity and hastily dropped to one knee. At the sound of Tristan’s voice, the others also turned their heads. At the crown prince’s arrival, everyone abandoned what they were doing and began to show their respects.

“We greet the great star of the Empire!”

The greetings surged in like waves.  Everyone fell flat on their faces, except Alexis, who stared coldly to his left.

From afar, Claude let out a sigh. He was urgently pushing through the people, making his way forward.

Ignoring him, Alexis strode ahead. He approached the velvet sofa and effortlessly slung the sleeping Cecil over his shoulder.

“I will take care of Cecil Adrian. You need not concern yourself with him.”

“My deepest apologies for not recognizing you. I have committed a great discourtesy.”

Cecil, draped over Alexis’s shoulder, was completely passed out, his limbs hanging limp. Tristan stole a glance at the pale arm dangling in the air. He could only hope that Cecil would wake up soon and speak in his defense.

Of course, Alexis didn’t miss that fleeting look. His ice-cold blue eyes flashed like a sharpened blade.

“I heard you were rather clever, but it seems you have a habit that needs correcting. Do you find it so difficult to control your gaze?”

“M-My apologies!”

Alexis observed Tristan’s bowed head for a moment before adding,

“Tristan Dyke, report to the palace soon. I have something to say to you personally.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

With a brief glance at the kneeling Tristan, Alexis turned away.

With every long stride he took, Cecil’s body, still slung over his shoulder, swayed like a pendulum. For someone personally taking charge of him, Alexis was handling him no better than a sack of grain.

“Your Highness, please allow me to carry him instead.”

Claude quickly stepped forward, extending his arms. With so many eyes watching, he couldn’t possibly allow the crown prince to carry such a burden.

But Alexis simply adjusted his hold on Cecil, gripping his heavier, drunken form more securely before gesturing indifferently with his chin.

“No need. Just go prepare the carriage.”

Claude immediately obeyed the curt order. As he hurried outside, Alexis resumed walking. His glacier-like gaze no longer lingered on anyone present. He simply strode forward, unwavering.

The hall remained silent long after they had swept through it. Everyone stood in stunned silence, staring at the open door.

One thing was certain—Cecil Adrian would no longer be seen in the social club.

Outside the mansion, a carriage sent from the imperial palace was now waiting. Unlike before, this one gleamed even in the dark, with a black exterior lined with gold from its roof to its trim and wheels. Even the driver seated at the coachman’s seat was a member of the imperial guard.

The entire household of Count Alfonso, from the family to the servants, had gathered to bid the crown prince farewell. But Alexis didn’t spare them a single glance as he stepped into the carriage.

Soon, the sound of hooves echoed as the carriage set off. Only after leaning back against the plush seat did Alexis finally take a moment to breathe.

Running a hand through his tousled bangs, his gaze shifted toward the corner of the carriage—where Cecil lay crumpled in a deep slumber.

Every time Cecil breathed through his half-open lips, the stench of alcohol thickened in the air.

Alexis reached for the window, intending to open it, but stopped halfway and instead propped his chin on his hand. His tilted head scrutinized Cecil’s sleeping face, tracing over every detail.

His pale face looked as peaceful as ever, but his ears and the nape of his neck were tinged red. Sprawled carelessly, melting like a jelly softened by heat, he was the very image of a drunken fool.

Just then, Cecil let out a soft groan, his brows furrowing. Whether due to discomfort from being slumped in the corner or a bad dream, he seemed to be in distress. Watching the pitiful sight, Alexis clicked his tongue in disapproval.

The seats inside the carriage were spacious enough for someone to lie down comfortably. Given the long ride to the palace, Alexis could have lent him his lap and let him rest more properly—but he wasn’t generous enough for that.

Still, the awkward angle of Cecil’s head was beginning to bother him. Just as Alexis reached out to adjust it, the carriage jolted over a rough patch of road.

And with that, Cecil woke up.

“Mm… huh…”

“Tsk.”

As Cecil sluggishly pushed himself upright, Alexis withdrew his hand and let out a small sigh.

He despised dealing with drunken nonsense, so he had hoped Cecil would stay asleep. But things weren’t going as he wished. His gaze sharpened further.

Cecil, still dazed, blinked his bleary eyes.

“…Where… am I?”

“Just go back to sleep. Don’t stir up unnecessary trouble.”

Alexis’s curt warning rang beside him. Hearing that familiar voice, Cecil’s head slowly turned toward him.

“……”

Half-lidded eyes gazed at Alexis. His face, steeped in a vague longing, made Alexis let out a disbelieving smirk.

“Don’t tell me crying is your drunken habit? That’d be the worst.”

He was already bracing himself, predicting the mess Cecil was about to create.

“Alexis.”

But what came out of Cecil’s lips was something unexpected—his name, spoken in a quiet voice. Cecil had never addressed him by name before, yet now, he uttered it slowly and calmly, as if he had done so countless times.

“Are you… happy right now?”

“……”

“I want you to be happy. No matter what it takes… I’ll make sure of it.”

Cecil was undoubtedly drunk. His unfocused eyes were fixed on Alexis, and though he wore a faint, helpless smile, his gaze shimmered as if he might burst into tears at any moment.

“I’ll do my best. So this time, live long. Live for a very, very long time.”

“Why do you assume I’d die early? Who told you that?”

Alexis crossed his legs, lazily probing for an answer. Whether it was drunken nonsense or something deeper, Cecil seemed likely to spill whatever was on his mind if coaxed a little more.

Cecil twisted his torso, pressing himself against the corner where the carriage’s wall met the backrest, resting his dizzy head against it. 

He looked straight at Alexis, who sat at a distance, detached.

“You’re surrounded by nothing but traitors.”

“What?”

“What’s the point of being meticulous? You have no luck with people, so you just keep getting stabbed in the back.”

“You really have a foul drunk habit. I shouldn’t have brought you along.”

“Don’t drink. Don’t just accept whatever others hand you. Especially wine—never touch it.”

“Keep spouting nonsense, and I’ll dump you on the roadside.”

Cecil pouted. Upset that Alexis wasn’t taking his words seriously, he muttered to himself,

“Mean bastard… never says a single nice thing to me.”

Of course, Alexis heard every word.

Suddenly, he closed the distance between them. Blocking Cecil’s path, he loomed over him, pressing with an imposing gaze.

“What did the Empress order you to do? Did she tell you to interfere with my work?”

“…Am I getting in the way?”

“Cecil Adrian, just answer the question. Do you want the position of Crown Prince?”

Cecil kept dodging the question, so Alexis seized his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. The moment he grabbed him, Cecil’s face, devoid of strength, was easily pulled toward him.

Then, an inexplicable sense of déjà vu crashed over him. It was just a glance, yet Alexis felt an eerie chill creeping down his spine, his hair standing on end, as if he had seen this exact scene before.

He clenched his jaw, suppressing the foreign sensation. To shake off the strange feeling, he stared even colder at Cecil.

“Even if I am in the way, just endure it a little longer. I won’t be staying by your side for long anyway.”

Cecil raised a hand and touched Alexis’s right cheek.

“A Crown Prince shouldn’t be walking around with lipstick marks on his face…”

With care, he wiped away the trace of makeup that had no place on such a noble countenance.

Then, Cecil’s hand fell away as his eyes fluttered shut. The alcohol clouding his head robbed him of the strength to speak further.

“I’m sleepy… I need to sleep.”

“You really do whatever you want.”

“If you’re gonna scold me… do it tomorrow. We still have plenty of time.”

Cecil placed a hand over his own chest, where a dull ache lingered. It was faint enough to ignore in his intoxicated state. Soon, his consciousness faded, and darkness swallowed his mind.

His head drooped lifelessly, and Alexis instinctively reached out to catch him before he could slump forward.

Before he knew it, he pressed a finger under Cecil’s nose to check if he was still breathing. He knew full well that Cecil had only passed out drunk, yet for some reason, he found himself treating him like someone whose life had already slipped away.

The warm breath against his fingertip finally reassured him.

“…Haa.”

This was ridiculous. Why did he feel relieved? Why did he keep seeing Cecil as something fragile, someone in need of protection?

Alexis propped Cecil against the seat and immediately put distance between them. He deliberately avoided looking in Cecil’s direction, focusing instead on the window and the darkness beyond.

Talking to a drunkard was making him act just as foolish.

‘I want you to be happy. No matter what it takes… I’ll make sure of it.’

Alexis gazed at the pitch-black scenery outside, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling creeping in.

But no matter how he tried to dismiss it, Cecil’s drunken ramblings continued to weigh on his mind. Bringing him along had clearly been a huge mistake.