Second Life, I’m Dying Soon Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The Empress yelled furiously.

“Alexis!”

“Do you wish to hear another reprimand from His Majesty?”

The Empress pressed her lips together tightly. After striking Cecil last time, she had been personally warned by the Emperor to refrain from corporal punishment.

“Please, moderate yourself. No matter how much you lock the doors, Her Majesty’s voice echoes throughout the palace. Why else do you think I came here?”

“And since when did you care about Cecil’s affairs?”

“I suppose I will start now.”

Alexis straightened his posture from where he had been leaning. He jerked his chin toward Cecil, who still looked dazed.

“You follow me.”

At his command, the hands that had been restraining Cecil immediately withdrew. Still bewildered, Cecil moved to follow, making sure to avoid the Empress’s furious, trembling gaze as he stepped out of the chapel.

The greenhouse, which maintained a constant warm temperature, had a high, transparent ceiling that allowed the bright sunlight to pour in.

The towering foliage created cool shade, and rare flowers emitted a fragrant aroma. At first glance, it looked like a giant jewel box. This was the palace’s famed glass greenhouse.

The soothing sound of a small waterfall, a pond, and an intricately carved fountain naturally brought a sense of serenity.

But to Cecil, serenity felt like a distant dream. Sitting across from Alexis at a tea table nestled deep within the greenhouse, forced into an exclusive meeting with him, was pure agony.

Silence stretched between them. After a long, wordless moment, Alexis finally broke it.

“You look better than I expected.”

Though his tone was neutral, the words struck Cecil like a bolt of lightning. He glanced up at Alexis’s face cautiously.

…He looked angry. Very angry.

“Did I… make some mistake toward Your Highness last night?”

“You don’t remember?”

“……”

The crooked smirk tugging at Alexis’s lips made Cecil’s heart sink. He scrunched his nose, desperately wracking his brain for any recollection of the previous night. But nothing came to mind.

With a sigh, he rubbed his face in frustration.

“Whatever it was, I apologize. And thank you for bringing me back yesterday. You didn’t have to go through that trouble.”

“I can’t tell if that’s gratitude or sarcasm.”

“…Thank you.”

Cecil obediently lowered his head. Finally, Alexis shed his cold smirk and crossed one leg over the other in a more relaxed posture.

“Drink that. You look like you’ll collapse any moment.”

“…What is it?”

Cecil had been eyeing the cup in front of him with suspicion. The thick, greenish liquid inside looked like something scooped straight from a swamp.

“A remedy for hangovers.”

“…Is it safe to drink?”

“I learned some folk remedies when I was in the Black Forest. The palace physician’s medicine won’t work half as well as this. Consider it an opportunity to test its effectiveness.”

Cecil’s expression soured as he picked up the cup. Even just bringing it close was enough to trigger a gag reflex.

Clenching his jaw, he glanced at Alexis, who was watching him with an unwavering gaze. He had no doubt that the prince would remain like that until the entire cup was emptied.

With a reluctant sigh, Cecil lifted the cup to his lips. The liquid slid down his throat in thick gulps. And just as he feared—it tasted just as terrible as it looked.

As Cecil frowned and forced down the tea, Alexis scoffed in disbelief.

“You told me not to accept things from others so easily, yet you drink without hesitation yourself.”

Pfft!!

Cecil spewed out the hangover remedy he had just swallowed. The green liquid burst like a fountain, soaking the white tablecloth and even splattering onto Alexis’s clothes.

Clicking his tongue lightly, Alexis brushed off the tea that had splashed onto his forearm.

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“I-I’m sorry—cough! No, I mean—”

Cecil coughed several times before finally regaining his breath. His wide eyes, filled with shock, fixated on Alexis.

“Did I really say that to you, Your Highness?”

“If you don’t remember, then it doesn’t matter.”

“What kind of nonsense did I spout this time?”

“Figure it out yourself.”

If that were possible, he would have done so already. With a sigh, Cecil rubbed his damp lips. Whatever had happened last night, he clearly had not been in his right mind.

“Why did you go to the social club?”

“…….”

The questioning began. Cecil was certain Alexis had seen him at Count Alfonso’s mansion. Since he couldn’t recall anything clearly, he decided that honesty was the best approach rather than attempting a clumsy lie.

“I went to meet good people.”

“…….”

“Being confined to the palace makes it difficult to meet others. I wanted to make friends my age and have someone to talk to.”

“Did you find such people?”

Alexis’s tone was casual, but his piercing blue eyes seemed to see right through everything. Cecil swallowed the lingering bitterness in his mouth and answered calmly.

“I know that Your Highness is looking for a chief aide. You should meet Tristan Dyke. He is intelligent and has sound judgment. I believe he will be of great assistance to you.”

“I was already planning to.”

“Then that’s—what?”

Cecil blurted out the question, completely thrown off. While he was flustered, Alexis remained poised, gesturing with his hand. The waiting attendants understood his signal and approached to replace the soiled teacup.

“I’ve already instructed him to visit the palace soon. I plan to meet him in person before making a decision. I’m quite curious to see what kind of man you deemed worthy enough to bring fine liquor to.”

“Please judge him without any preconceived notions. I’m sure you’ll like him.”

Alexis chuckled as he took a sip of the freshly served tea.

“I hope he doesn’t have the makings of a traitor.”

Their gazes met over the rim of the teacup, Alexis’s eyes filled with veiled intent. As expected, Alexis was not a pushover. Cecil could feel the invisible pressure constricting his chest, making him unconsciously pat it.

 

***

 

Fortunately, peace followed afterward. Empress Elizabeth no longer sought out Cecil, and Alexis chose to ignore his disgraceful behavior at the social club. Cecil had also recovered from his hangover and was regaining his usual condition.

He even resumed sword training after a long break. However, missing a few days had left his body painfully stiff. Forcing his sluggish limbs into motion, he quickly exhausted himself. Sir Claude, the captain of the knights, watched him with a sharp glare.

“If you continue training like this, I strongly recommend quitting. Do you think you’ll improve if you only show up when you feel like it?”

“Aren’t you tired of repeating the same lecture?”

Panting, Cecil clutched his aching ribs, barely managing to catch his breath. The scorching midday sun had drenched him in sweat.

“I’ll be here every day from now on, so don’t worry. Just focus on training me well and getting me to His Highness as soon as possible.”

Claude saluted reluctantly, his expression unreadable. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation.

Cecil scoffed and turned away as well. At his side, Rocco, who had been helping with training, gazed wistfully at Claude’s retreating figure. The young knight looked more downcast than usual.

“Good work.”

“Ah, you too, Lord.”

As Cecil dusted himself off and stood up, Rocco hurriedly followed suit. Scratching the back of his sweaty neck, the young knight hesitated before speaking.

“Um… Lord Cecil.”

“What?”

“Would you like to wash up together in the locker room?”

Cecil stared at him in disbelief before turning away. Behind the training grounds, there was a dormitory for apprentice knights, where they bathed, ate, and slept together.

Since it was a palace facility, it was likely well-maintained, but suggesting such a thing to Cecil was absurd.

A short walk away lay the opulent Peridot Palace, where numerous attendants awaited to serve him. More importantly, royals were not in the habit of undressing in front of others.

“Are you serious?”

“…No, it’s just that it’s hot. I thought you might want to freshen up quickly.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard today. You must be exhausted from training.”

“…….”

“Go take a bath and clear your head. See you tomorrow.”

Deciding that Rocco was just overheated and not thinking straight, Cecil simply laughed it off. He tousled the young knight’s hair playfully before walking away.

As he left the training grounds, he tugged at his damp, sweat-soaked shirt, trying to cool down. Just then, he spotted a familiar face approaching from nearby. The moment their eyes met, the other person quickened his pace.

Standing before him now, Tristan bowed respectfully.

“Tristan Dyke greets the Empire’s little star.”

“It’s been a while, Tristan. You don’t need to be so formal in informal settings.”

Cecil waved a hand dismissively, his voice sluggish with exhaustion.

Straightening his posture, Tristan met Cecil’s gaze. It was their first meeting since the social club, and his lips curled into a warm smile.

“It’s a pleasure to see you in the palace.”

“You start working today, right? Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I intend to make the most of this opportunity.”

Alexis had spoken at length with Tristan before appointing him as his chief aide. As Cecil had anticipated, Tristan Dyke was exactly the kind of talent Alexis would covet.

Dressed impeccably, Tristan’s appearance reflected his resolve. Given that today was his first day as chief aide, he had clearly made an effort to look his best.

Despite surpassing his elder brother to enter the palace first, he remained composed, never boasting or showing excitement. It was precisely the kind of upright demeanor Cecil had expected from Tristan.

“But why are you dressed like that, Lord Cecil…?”

“Oh, I’ve been training in swordsmanship lately. I just finished and was on my way out.”

“…….”

“…Why are you staring like that? Is there something wrong with my clothes?”

Tristan’s gaze was fixed awkwardly somewhere below Cecil’s face.

Just below his sweaty neck, to be precise—his chest, covered by a white silk shirt.

The silk shirt, soaked with sweat, had become semi-transparent. Clinging to his skin, it revealed the outline of his nipples clearly.

“Uh… I believe it would be best to adjust your attire, sir.”

Tristan’s words came out flustered. Clearing his throat, he lowered his gaze—but no matter how much he willed himself to look away, his treacherous eyes kept drifting back to Cecil’s chest.

What kind of man has nipples so red?