Our Summer Is Not Over - vanish into fiction

The most important battle Dylan Rihardt commanded as an admiral against Murad.

He successfully wrested control of the sea from them, tipping the scales of victory in Hipoli’s favor, but among the soldiers who were lost was Dylan’s cousin, Rodrigo.

If everything had ended in success, Rodrigo would surely still be here now. Perhaps he would have stood between Elio and Dylan with a bright smile, saying,

“Stop fighting, you two.”

When Dylan closed his eyes for a moment, he thought he could almost hear Rodrigo’s voice.

“Everything falls apart when I’m not around.”

The faint voice that echoed in his ears was heartrending, but Dylan opened his eyes again and steadfastly regained his composure.

Because he knew.

What had happened was already done, and Rodrigo was dead.

There was no chance that boy would ever return. So it was nothing more than an illusion, a hollow fantasy.

Elio was watching Dylan with a cold gaze. Sensing how uncomfortable this conversation was, Dylan changed the subject.

“What is it about today? Even people who never cared for parties are showing up in droves.”

Elio shrugged his shoulders once and replied,

“Annabelle Luc sent me a letter saying she would be attending tonight.”

At those words, Dylan’s expression instantly hardened. A low, cold voice slipped out.

“Ah, so irritating me with Rodrigo wasn’t enough for you, now you’ve teamed up with Annabelle Luc?”

“……”

“Are you trying to suggest I should take responsibility for my poor cousin’s former fiancée? If that’s what you want…”

Dylan let out a short, cold laugh, staring icily at Elio.

“Why don’t you cool your head by taking a dip in the sea?”

He had already regained his composure and patted Elio’s shoulder a couple of times. He’d had enough of being held back by the past and swayed by others.

The guilt he had to bear was for Rodrigo and the fallen sailors, not for Elio or Annabelle.

As if he had read something in Dylan’s expression, Elio opened his mouth to say something.

“Your Grace, Duke Rihardt…”

But before he could continue, a servant appeared from somewhere and approached Dylan with a message.

Before Elio could even ask what was going on, Dylan was already striding away. There was an unusual sense of urgency in his steps.

It was a side of Dylan that Elio had never seen before.

Elio watched Dylan leave for a moment in a daze, then let out a short sigh and muttered to himself,

“That wasn’t what I meant to say at all.”

He tugged at his stifling necktie and, as if his business was finished, left the ballroom with unhurried steps.

* * *

Sitting on a bench in the garden outside the ballroom, Mia frowned and closed her eyes. The smell of spilled wine, sharp with alcohol, stung her nose.

A familiar voice sounded not far away.

“Why did you come out here instead of waiting inside?”

There was something different in his voice from usual. Mia slowly opened her eyes.

“I heard about what happened on the way here.”

And only then did she begin to understand the reason for the change.

His normally neat blond hair was as tousled as it had been when she’d ruffled it, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead.

Dylan closed the distance between them in an instant.

They stared at each other for a long while.

At last, in a low, ticklish voice, Dylan spoke, his words brushing Mia’s ear.

“Were you frightened?”

“…I’m alright.”

“Your dress is ruined.”

“Ah… I don’t think I’ll be able to wear it again.”

Before she realized, Dylan was kneeling in front of Mia.

Startled by his sudden action, she asked why he was doing this, but he didn’t offer a real answer, only carefully looking her over. Only then did Mia realize he was checking to see if she was injured.

“Some glass shards did fly, but I wasn’t hurt. Didn’t you hear all that already?”

Even after hearing her answer, Dylan didn’t stop examining her. Just like the parents of Clarisse and Armand earlier, he carefully checked her over.

“You never know.”

A deep crease appeared between Dylan’s brows. Only after making sure she was unharmed did his gaze linger on her ruined dress. He let out a faint sigh and gently stroked a mark left on her thigh.