Second Life, I’m Dying Soon Chapter 67

Chapter 67

 

Alexis lowered his gaze and thought carefully. The heavy silence stretched on, and after a while, he delivered his decision in a low voice.

“I will take it under advisement. You may leave now.”

“Is… that all? Then what will happen to me?”

“By the authority of the Crown Prince, I will not pursue your crime. Consider it a result of your belated but honest confession.”

Only then did Johannes feel as though he could breathe again. He was truly glad he had found the courage to come forward. As if freed from guilt, a bright light spread across his once-tense face.

“Thank you. May the blessings of the gods be with you.”

Once Johannes departed, the office fell silent, filled only with the sound of Alexis’s breathing. Unlike Johannes, who had left looking relieved, the Crown Prince’s face was clouded with deep concern.

Alexis leaned his head back and spent a long while untangling the chaos in his thoughts.

He brushed his bangs back. Hair like threads of gold slipped between his long fingers, fully revealing his neat forehead. Beneath it, his dark brows were deeply furrowed, plainly reflecting his mood.

“Hah… it’s so absurd I almost want to laugh.”

Alexis clenched and unclenched his fist, forcing himself to calm down. This was a first. His emotions seemed to change with every breath.

He felt relieved knowing Cecil had not betrayed him—yet at the same time, irritation rose at the thought that Cecil had abandoned himself merely to protect a friend.

He did not believe Johannes’s confession was a lie. The prince of Themion had no reason to resurrect a matter already settled, especially one that had already been punished.

This incident had begun with Cecil’s false prophecy. The idea that Cecil had spoken of the future to the prince of Themion in Yuria’s name was, by all logic, incomprehensible.

‘I felt the presence of the Goddess Gaia.’

‘Could it be that you possess the same ability as I do, Lord Cecil?’

Yuria’s words resurfaced without warning. Did Cecil truly possess the ability to foresee the future?

“No. That’s impossible.”

Alexis rejected the thought outright.

He had come into contact with Cecil countless times, yet never once had he sensed anything resembling divine energy. If there had been even the faintest trace, he could not have missed it.

And yet, several points nagged at him.

The way Cecil had revealed future events to Johannes Albrecht IV under the guise of prophecy. The prediction of the Duchess of Vandell’s carriage accident. Even the information he had given certain nobles—information that brought them financial gain.

If Cecil truly possessed prophetic abilities, all of it could be explained.

Tormented by the unsolved puzzle, Alexis pressed a hand to his brow. Questioning Cecil would be pointless; with his personality, he would undoubtedly deny everything. Alexis himself knew how far-fetched the assumption was.

He disliked vague conjecture. He would simply observe until clear evidence emerged. After all, Cecil would remain within his sight for the rest of his life.

“October sixteenth… that was the date, wasn’t it.”

Closing his eyes, Alexis etched the day of the prince of Themion’s death deep into his mind.

There was no need to rush. No need to draw conclusions. If the prophecy was true, it would be revealed soon enough.

 

***

 

Two days later, Cecil prepared to enter the palace. He set out on horseback with Captain Claude. They deliberately chose the early hours before dawn, and thanks to their swift pace, they arrived before the sun rose.

As the towering walls of the palace drew nearer, Cecil’s expression darkened. Even the rhythmic sound of hooves striking the ground seemed sluggish and weak.

Thanks to prior arrangements, the guards stationed at the gates had all been replaced with knights of the Imperial Order.

The knights exchanged glances with Claude and quietly opened the gate. Thus, Cecil Adrian—who had secretly run away—returned safely.

Upon passing through the gate, Cecil was startled to find Alexis waiting for him.

The moment he saw the Crown Prince standing alone beneath the dark sky where the morning star still shone, Cecil halted his horse in shock. Without time to think, he hurriedly dismounted.

As Cecil moved to hand the reins to Claude, Alexis strode over, unwilling to wait even a moment.

He seized Cecil’s wrist and yanked him toward himself.

“Your Highness!”

“…You.”

Alexis nearly raised his voice, unable to restrain his agitation, but swallowed his words just in time.

The palace at dawn was silent, filled only with the sound of insects. This was no place to raise one’s voice. No matter how urgent his feelings were, he had to restrain himself.

“Your Highness, what is the matter?”

“Be quiet and follow me.”

He turned and walked off without explanation. Cecil was dragged along by the wrist, practically hauled after him. Fear welled up, draining the color from his already pale face.

They arrived at Alexis’s bedchamber. After dismissing all attendants and securing the windows tightly, Alexis finally seemed at ease, leaning against the wall as he let out a long breath.

Having no idea what was going on, Cecil lowered his gaze to his wrist.

Alexis was still gripping it tightly. The force was such that his knuckles had gone white.

“…It hurts.”

“…….”

“Please let go.”

Cecil spoke with difficulty. Instead of loosening his grip, Alexis tightened it further. Pain throbbed through Cecil’s wrist, drawing a wince from him. When he looked up, he met Alexis’s face—one contorted with suffering equal to his own.

“Why are you angry?”

“Do I look angry to you?”

“Did you bring me here to punish me?”

Cecil replied as though he had expected this. Yet despite his calm tone, trembling traveled through his wrist. He was trying desperately to appear composed, but facing an angry Alexis was still terrifying.

Alexis stared down at him for a moment, then tugged one corner of his mouth. Cecil’s expression was now completely transparent to him. There was no point trying to hide anything.

Instead of releasing his wrist, Alexis turned him around and pressed him against the wall. In an instant, his arms formed a barrier on either side. Trapped within it, Cecil instinctively stepped back—only to be stopped by the wall behind him.

Tilting his head, Alexis asked,

“How long do you plan to keep lying?”

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t the one who attacked Yuria, were you.”

The sudden accusation left Cecil speechless. He blinked, stunned, barely registering how close Alexis’s face had come.

As Cecil’s practiced composure crumbled and his raw confusion showed, Alexis pressed him further.

“The prince of Themion confessed everything before leaving the Empire. He told me you took the blame in his stead.”

“…….”

“What a tearjerker of a friendship. One friend plays the villain to protect the other, and the other confesses too late to clear his name. In the end, the only fools are those who got dragged into it. Myself included.”

At those words, Cecil squeezed his eyes shut. His entire body trembled as though he might collapse at any moment.

“Did Johannes… really tell you everything?”

“He did.”

“He didn’t say anything else?”

“Like what?”

“For example… why Yuria was harmed.”

When Cecil finally managed to ask, Alexis erased his sneer and studied his face. Every word, every strained breath—he read the worry in all of it.

“He claimed it was because of superstition in the Kingdom of Themion. Something about gaining eternal life through holy blood. A pathetic reason.”

Alexis spoke obliquely.

The reason for Cecil’s fear was obvious, but it was not yet time to press further. Fearing he might flee again, Alexis kept her suspicions tightly concealed.

“Cecil Adrian. So what do you intend to do now?”

“…….”

“Do you plan to keep living at odds with me?”

Only then did Cecil slowly lift his head.

Seeing his own sharp reflection in Cecil’s empty eyes made Alexis grow impatient. He stroked Cecil’s cheek and demanded an answer once more.

“Stop resisting and tell me the truth.”

“You already know everything, don’t you?”

“I want to hear it from your own mouth. Think carefully. This is the last chance I’m giving you.”

Cecil clenched his trembling hand into a fist.

What temptation could be sweeter than this? He didn’t want to let the chance slip away. If he turned away now, Alexis would never reach out to him again. He wanted to cling, to beg, to hold on.

“I… didn’t do it.”

At last, his stubborn lips parted. Cecil lowered his flushed face and panted for breath.

“I lied to you, Your Highness. I’m sorry.”

“Good. You said it properly.”

At the same time he replied, Alexis pulled Cecil into an embrace. He, too, looked exhausted, as though he had endured a long ordeal, and let out a heavy breath.

“Don’t ever do that again. This is the last time I forgive you.”

 

Cecil, nestled in his embrace, nodded. His shoulders and chest shook violently. Pretending not to notice, Alexis stroked the back of his head. The left side of his shirt grew damp with Cecil’s tears.

“You infuriating fool. What’s so important about a mere friend that you’d sacrifice yourself? You’re selfish to the point of cunning, yet you go and do something needlessly kind.”

“…….”

“Remember this. From now on, the only people you are to prioritize are yourself and me.”

“…Yes.”

“And if you ever run away without my permission again, I will find you—no matter what—and make sure you regret it.”

Unable to hold back any longer, Cecil broke into sobs. The resentment and sorrow he had suppressed finally burst forth. There was no gathering it back now.

Alexis tilted his head and looked down at Cecil, who clutched his clothes and cried openly.

Seeing him express his emotions so honestly, even his tears looked beautiful. A faint curve formed on Alexis’s lips.

“Well now… if you cry like this, I can’t even scold you.”

A large hand gently patted Cecil’s back. The comfort continued for a long time.

 

***

 

The spacious conference hall was filled with elders. They had gathered for the monthly tea gathering hosted by the imperial family.

Seated at the head, Emperor Arnold swept his gaze across the assembled nobles.

The familiar faces he had seen for so many years felt somewhat dull. Just as he shifted lazily in his seat, a realization struck him—someone usually present was missing.

Curious, the Emperor asked,

“So what became of Marquis Valeri? Is there still no word? It’s been a week since his disappearance, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. His ex-wife, whom he divorced, claims she lost contact with the Marquis long ago. Even the servants who worked at the Marquis’ residence say they know nothing of their master’s whereabouts… It is truly a perplexing matter.”

The disappearance of Marquis Valeri had become the talk of the capital. A man vanishing as though into thin air naturally invited speculation.

Some claimed he had gone on a journey; others suggested he might have met with an accident.

The only certainty was that no one had seen the Marquis de Valeri.

Alexis listened carefully to the conversation. Most of it was groundless speculation, but he paid attention nonetheless, unwilling to miss even the smallest detail.

Though tea gatherings were meant for relaxed discussion of current affairs, in reality they often devolved into gossip about nobles’ rumors and private lives—something the Emperor particularly enjoyed. Naturally, talk of Marquis Valeri was expected.

As Alexis took a sip of fragrant tea and shifted his gaze, he caught sight of Cecil’s pale face beside him. His period of reflection had ended the day before, and he now occupied his seat once more.

Despite Valeri’s name being mentioned repeatedly, Cecil remained composed.

His ability to manage his expression truly was remarkable. Alexis smiled, hiding the curve of his lips behind his teacup.

“Everyone knows the marquis had filthy tastes, don’t they?”

“Of course. Isn’t that why he was divorced?”

“Perhaps he’s rotting away in a brothel. I hear he favors pretty young men in particular!”

Laughter erupted as the topic veered into the marquis’s sexual proclivities. Amid the noise, Cecil bit the inside of his lip.

He tried to maintain his composure, but his trembling hands betrayed him. Subtly, he lowered them beneath the table. He was fervently wishing for the gathering to end when—

“……!”

Warmth touched his right hand. Alexis had firmly clasped Cecil’s wrist beneath the table. Without looking away from the nobles, he spoke calmly.

“It is indeed unfortunate that Marquis Valeri has gone missing. More concerning, however, is that the position of Minister of Finance has remained vacant for some time. We cannot leave it so—would it not be prudent to appoint someone, even temporarily?”

“The Crown Prince speaks wisely. That position cannot remain empty.”

With the Emperor’s agreement, the nobles leapt at the opportunity, clamoring over one another. In an instant, Valeri’s name vanished from discussion, replaced by naked self-interest.

“My, I didn’t expect so many volunteers. Alexis, I believe your opinion is needed. Who do you think should take on the role?”

“In my opinion…”

As Alexis offered his thoughts in his characteristic low, steady voice, Cecil quietly lowered his gaze.

Beneath the table, Alexis’s hand still held his wrist. Long, elegant fingers tapped lightly against his wristbone.

It’s all right. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.

Without words, the message reached him. A faint smile touched Cecil’s lips.

He straightened his back and lifted his gaze proudly. With someone so steadfast at his side, there was nothing to fear at all.