By Some Unbelievable Twist, I Became the Villainess’s Older Brother - Chapter 12.1
But if anyone among the three was most shocked, it was undoubtedly Zyla. Tears brimmed in her large eyes as she looked at Enoch reproachfully.
Feeling sorry for her, Enoch tried to embrace and soothe her, but Zyla coldly slapped his hands away.
Enoch blinked as he stared blankly at the hand she had cast aside. Zyla had never treated him so harshly before.
“You’re awful, Brother! You said you liked Zyla more than anyone in the world! How could you like Miss Neyra?”
“No, wait. Zyla, when did I ever say I liked Miss Hasgen? I certainly never said―”
“Even if you didn’t say it, you didn’t answer the question I just asked, so it amounts to the same thing!”
“Failing to answer doesn’t always mean yes!”
“Then why didn’t you immediately say no?”
Because I couldn’t find a suitable explanation for why I was staring… Zyla’s plausible reasoning left Enoch speechless.
Seeing him falter, Zyla covered her face with both hands and looked close to tears. Then she spun around and went down the stairs, sobbing miserably.
This was a disaster in every sense. With a deep sigh, Enoch frowned and rubbed his forehead. Deciding he should follow Zyla and calmly talk to her again, he immediately moved.
Naturally, he had completely forgotten about Neyra, whom he had left behind. If a voice hadn’t reached him as he took his first step, Enoch would have followed Zyla and departed without remembering Neyra at all.
“Young Duke. Have you nothing to say to me?”
Enoch, who had started to turn, squeezed his eyes shut. Damn it. Come to think of it, Neyra was there.
He composed his expression and turned his head. Neyra stared at him with an icy face.
Swallowing a sigh, Enoch bowed with as much courtesy and politeness as he could muster.
“I apologize, Miss Hasgen. My younger sister appears to have misunderstood something. I feel only the respect due to you as Zyla’s teacher, so I believe you need not worry.”
“That is a relief. I have no desire to become privately entangled with a student’s family either.”
“Ah, yes…”
“I understand. Since you have said so, Young Duke, I will believe you. Then… if there is nothing else, I shall take my leave.”
“Yes…”
Neyra bowed in farewell, passed Enoch, and descended the stairs. Left alone on the second floor, Enoch dragged a hand down his face in despair.
Why did he feel as though he had been rejected when he had never confessed? How had things suddenly turned out like this?
Enoch squeezed his eyes shut.
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A pointed spire rose from the top of the temple, with a roof beneath it. Immediately below that was a very small space that could be called a rooftop.
That was where the Saint was now. The Pope, who always secluded himself under the pretext of private training, had created the space for his friend, the Saint.
Looking up at the long staircase leading to the rooftop, the First Princess quietly clicked her tongue.
This was the temple, a place inhabited only by those who served the gods and perhaps the holiest place in the Empire. Who could possibly imagine that the favorite pastime of the Saint, whose power here rivaled the Pope’s, was merely to drink tea at his leisure while watching the sky from the highest point of the temple, on a rooftop just beneath the tower?
And because of it, she had to suffer like this. As she sighed quietly again, the head lady-in-waiting holding the train of her dress behind her looked at the First Princess with concern.
“Your Highness. If you are tired, why not rest for a moment before continuing?”
“No. I cannot keep Master waiting. I’m fine.”
“But…”
“I truly am fine, so do not worry. I have climbed and descended these stairs hundreds of times more than you have.”
At the Imperial Princess’s stubborn attitude, the head lady-in-waiting silently nodded. She knew that nothing she said would persuade her.
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