It took some time for Remesis to recover after the emotions had washed over her with irresistible force.
While her older brother watched her in confusion from the side — he stood frozen in indecision, not knowing whether to approach or leave her alone — Remesis rather quickly composed herself and wiped away her tears with a sharp, almost aggressive motion.
Ultimately, now was not the time for such weaknesses.
No matter how terrible she felt at the moment — first and foremost, she needed to decide what to do next.
There was truly catastrophically little time left. Every second of hesitation could cost her her freedom — and perhaps even her life.
When Remesis calmed down and stopped crying, she turned her head and looked at Michel, who had remained frozen in place.
"Michel," she addressed him simply by name, without any polite form of address, without the titles and formalities usually required between them. At such a moment, such conventions seemed laughable. "What are you going to do next?"
"...What?" he blinked, not expecting the question.
"Explain."
In truth, the girl shouldn't have been particularly concerned about what would happen to her brother after these events. It wasn't her business at all. And if someone had asked her just a few hours earlier, she would have answered with a cold sneer that she didn't care about Michel Carter's fate. But for some reason, she still felt like asking about it now.
Michel Eben Carter flinched and averted his gaze after her question. His shoulders slumped, and there was something almost pitiful in this movement — something Remesis had never seen before in her arrogant older brother.
"...I don't know."
"..." she silently waited for him to continue.
"Like you, I also don't know what I'll do next," he said, then grinned bitterly. "My situation is pretty shitty right now, isn't it?"
Remesis sighed.
"This is... Remesis."
Michel was silent for a long time, gathering his thoughts, and then spoke barely audibly:
"I missed the right time to say this... sorry."
Remesis raised her gaze and looked at him with a frown.
"What exactly are you apologizing to me for?" she asked.
"There are probably many things, aren't there?" The young man found it difficult to meet her eyes at that moment, so he looked away somewhere to the side. "Anyway, I don't think my apology will change anything now... So I just wanted to say it. Just so you know."
Remesis froze.
She still couldn't understand. Couldn't understand why her older brother, whom she actually despised and hated no less than her other relatives — was now saying these words to her.
As he himself had said, it was meaningless now. Apologies couldn't erase years of neglect, couldn't heal the wounds inflicted in childhood, couldn't turn enemies into family with a wave of the hand.
"...Don't talk nonsense," ultimately, after a few moments of hesitation, the duke's youngest daughter said only this.
Remesis stood up from the stairs. Her movements were sharp, abrupt — she could no longer stay in one place, she needed to move, otherwise she risked drowning again in the abyss of memories and regrets. Michel looked confused and stood up, hastily extinguishing his cigarette on the railing to follow her, but Remesis cut the distance between herself and the young man, taking a step back.
"I'm grateful that you helped me just now," she said coldly. "But we have no further need to be in contact. I'm leaving."
Michel wanted to step towards her, but stopped when he saw Remesis looking at him with eyes that held nothing but emptiness and cold. The young man involuntarily shuddered because of this gaze and froze in place. For these were eyes he himself had not inherited. The duke's blue eyes — cold as the winter sky, and merciless as a blade. Eyes that never asked for mercy and never gave it.
Right now, it seemed to him as if he saw the gaze of his father fixed upon him. This is what made Michel stop and catch his breath. His heart skipped a beat, then began pounding somewhere in his throat, making it hard to speak.
It felt as if the anxiety he had been consciously or unconsciously suppressing all these days had suddenly flared up within him like a fire.
So, were they really going to part ways right now? To go their separate ways, like two ships in the night sea, never to cross paths again?
Nevertheless, the young man gathered his thoughts to speak again after a while. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the tremor in his voice.
"It's already night. Where exactly are you planning to go at this hour?" he asked, genuine anxiety sounding in his voice.
"Is that any of your concern?" Remesis asked just as coldly, her eyebrow lifting mockingly.
"Be that as it may, you are my sister..." he muttered, and these words sounded uncertain. "It will be dangerous if I just let you go alone right now. So you'll have to tell me so I understand."
Michel pronounced each word emphatically, as if trying to convey the seriousness of his intentions to her. But the princess of the north simply looked at him and laughed — quietly, almost soundlessly, as if she was so surprised she couldn't hold back the laughter.
"She's smiling?"
Michel was confused, as he hadn't expected such a reaction from her. He opened his mouth to say something, but Remesis was quicker.
"You want to know?" she asked with a sneer, in which bitterness and sarcasm could be heard. "Isn't it a bit too late for you to try to play the role of a caring older brother?"
Michel was momentarily stunned and fell silent. He looked away, unable to bear the weight of her words. The former heir of the duchy could very well understand his younger sister's reaction. After all, in the past, their relationship had indeed been far from ideal. No, they had never even considered each other relatives. And yet...
"All your life, you acted as if you didn't have a younger sister besides Katrina," Remesis continued, and every word she spoke hit the mark like an arrow shot from a bow. "And now you say this... It's too absurd."
"Remesis."
Michel was truly struggling to find words. He covered his face with his hands in despair — a gesture he would never have allowed himself in public, but now there was no one here but the two of them. Then he took a deep breath, not removing his hands from his face, as if afraid that if he did, he wouldn't be able to hold back tears.
"I really want to know," he said quietly, his voice muffled by his palms. "Even if you don't care... but can you at least tell me where you are going now?"
When Remesis stared intently at him, the young man lowered his hands from his face. His open face looked genuinely sad — gaunt, haggard, with reddened eyes and the shadow of stubble. To the extent that Remesis wondered if this was just pretense on his part, another game to evoke her pity.
Ultimately, she still couldn't trust him. Couldn't afford herself the luxury of trusting anyone from the Carter family.
"...I have nothing to tell you."
"Please tell me."
Remesis focused her gaze and looked at his face, trying to discern the lie in it. Michel wasn't looking into her eyes, but instead glanced at the floor, then at the extinguished cigarette in his hand. Finally, he opened his mouth, and his voice sounded quiet, almost pleading:
"I know I've been a terrible brother all this time. I'm not even trying to make up for it, because it's already too late. But at least... I don't want us to remain enemies even now. Not after everything that happened tonight."
Remesis was silent for a while after his words. Heavy silence hung in the air.
"Why?" the girl asked calmly.
Her older brother sighed.
"You don't know, but I've been sitting in that storage room for more than a few weeks. I had enough time to think everything over. And during that time, I also... regretted many things," he spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words, as if each one could be his last.
"..." Remesis remained silent, letting him speak.
"The things I had been clinging to all my life ended up being meaningless. Be that as it may, now I've lost and lost everything. It's unlikely that my life will ever be the same as before. I don't deserve it either," his voice trembled, but he continued. "And yet... Even though I don't deserve it, I still wanted to ask for your forgiveness."
Remesis, who had momentarily faltered and lost her voice due to his words, froze. Her heart skipped a beat, then began pounding twice as hard.
Suddenly, memories of the distant past surfaced in her mind. Those times of their childhood, when her older brother always looked at her like a piece of trash and didn't even consider her human. Cold glances, caustic remarks, mockery at the dinner table. And now she found it hard to believe that this was the same person uttering these words before her now. It felt more like an illusion or an implausible dream — as surreal as everything that had happened tonight.
At that moment, Michel was about to say something else, but suddenly closed his mouth. It took him a while to gather the strength to utter these painful words. The former successor of the duchy even clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his skin painfully, leaving crimson marks on his palms.
"I know there's no need to talk about this now. And yet... Back then, in childhood, I didn't hate you," his voice dropped to a whisper.
"..." Remesis held her breath.
"Actually, I hated myself!" he exhaled. "The truth is, I was terribly afraid. I was afraid that the place you occupied actually belonged to me."
Remesis still didn't utter a word.
"Then..." Michel swallowed. It was hard for him to say the following words, but he forced himself. "Then... I bullied you only because I was afraid. I was afraid because subconsciously I knew that I was the one who should have been the target. And in that way... I was just trying to protect myself. To protect myself from the truth that was too horrible to accept."
Michel took a deep breath, and his shoulders sagged, as if under the weight of these words. Remesis remained silent, digesting what she had heard.
"I know I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry..."
At that moment, Remesis's eyes looked at Michel. She held her gaze on the young man who was trying not to meet her eyes — his eyelashes trembled, his lips were tightly pressed together, and perspiration appeared on his forehead. She slightly furrowed her brows.
Nevertheless, the girl still didn't utter a word, simply trying to digest everything she had just heard. Her mind worked feverishly, sifting through memories, comparing facts, looking for some trick...
"I thought I should tell you this personally," Michel continued. "Let me make this clear, Remesis. Right now, I hold no grudge against you. And actually... deep down, I never did."
"...."
"In the past, I was too stupid and naive to understand this. But in truth, you are really not at fault. All the fault lies with me!" he almost shouted these words, as if releasing a burden he had carried all his life.
"...." silence was his answer.
"The truth is..." Michel hesitated and clenched his fists tighter. He closed his eyes, gathering his courage, and exhaled: "Your natal chart is fake. Actually, Remesis's star belongs to me."
After the young man's words, a deafening silence hung in the night corridor.
Honestly, Remesis didn't even know what she felt at that moment. Was she surprised? Confused? Angry? Or perhaps... felt nothing at all?
In any case, the girl didn't have much time for reflection. For as soon as Michel finished speaking and finally cautiously looked at her — their conversation was suddenly interrupted. It happened at the most inopportune moment.
They both just heard unexpected strange sounds nearby and simultaneously turned their heads. Both their hearts skipped a beat — someone was walking down the corridor, and that someone was very close.
"...M-my lady!" The maid's voice, having unexpectedly found them in the middle of the night, was both agitated and frightened.
But Remesis felt tension only for a moment. For as soon as she made out the woman's face in the darkness, through the flickering flame of a lone candle, she breathed a sigh of relief so strong that her legs nearly gave way.
Thank the gods, it was someone she knew.
"Seyla, what are you doing here?" Remesis asked, relief and weariness mingling in her voice.