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A Young Lady’s Recollection

*Bianca's point of view.

   The house had been bustling, but now it was quiet, as if the liveliness from earlier was a lie.

   The treated and the sick were all resting peacefully together. Several crewmembers went out drinking with some nobles and were living their lives in the city.

   Though I felt tired, I wasn't that keen on sleeping just yet.

   I rinsed my face and wandered about inside the house, and before I knew it, I had arrived at a certain room.

"…"

   I finally knocked on the door after a short hesitation.

   A humble voice replied from within the room shortly after.

   I rested my hand on the door knob, but I couldn't turn it. It wasn't because it was rusted, but because of my own weakness. After taking a deep breath, I poured my strength into it and the door opened with a creak.

   The man who was recently on the verge of death was peacefully sleeping in the creased bed. A young figure on a chair sat by his bedside with a thick book on his knees. Perhaps that's his way to pass the time.

   The young man raised his face and called out to me with a steady voice.

"Sister."

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

   I asked after a short silence. My brother, Michael von Diebold, returned a humble smile.

   I entered and closed the door behind me. Michael gave me a troubled look when I sat down at the end of the bed.

"Sis."

   The voice was a bit cramped this time. I responded with a hand gesture.

"It's fine. He's not going wake up that easily."

   That guy was drained at the end of the day, in both the mental and physical sense. I would be surprised if he even wakes up today.

   Whether I had convinced Michael or not, I didn't bother to find out.

   Looking at Michael's face, a complicated feeling welled up inside me. Was he happy? Was he lonely? I couldn't tell.

   Back then, he used to grow his hair long enough to cover his face, as if hiding behind it. Now, that frightened gaze of his had completely disappeared. Those dark azure eyes were now filled with gentle compassion.

"You've grown quite a bit."

   I said. Michael acknowledged my words with a bitter smile.

"That's not true. I haven't changed at all."

   After hearing his reply I answered him with my own wry smile.

   You have changed. Tremendously.

   You've started to voice your opinions more often while even making eye contact. Don't you realise it?

   Michael was different now. Not only on the outside, but on the inside as well.

   But let's not dwindle too much into it. Because there's the other half of me that didn't want to admit to the change. I didn't like the thought that he was turning into someone else I didn't know. It was an unreasonable feeling, like I was a child throwing a fit.

"Let me say this again; it has been a long time, Michael."

"Yes. It's been a while, sis. I'm sorry we couldn't meet more often."

"Having such a heartless brother makes me sad, you know?"

   Teasing him a little, Michael returned a troubled face.

   Ever since Michael ran away from home, he had never gone back even once. It all started after he had earned an apprenticeship to become a priest of the Great Temple.

   After that, he became an apprentice magician in the castle. I understood that because of his position, there would be various restrictions on him to a certain degree. It wouldn’t be out of the question if he wasn’t allowed to come home. However, when he was still being taught under the Great Temple, he definitely still had the time to visit at least once a year. Simply put, Michael didn't want to return home.

   I understood that it couldn't be helped.

   After all, my parents didn't have any room for Michael in their hearts.

   Children with innate magical powers were often dismissed by their own parents.

   Although our parents didn't neglect him completely, they weren't attentive either. Ultimately, it wasn't a simple situation.

   Our father had a mistress.

   It was not just messing around either. They were in love since they were little. If given the chance, he would have married her, and not Mother.

   That mistress lived under the same roof as Father. She was the perfect image of an innocent girl, loved by father and everyone around her.

   Mother, however, didn't live in the Diebold household.

   Her strength dwindled day by day. She was jealous of the mistress and had kept her feelings bottled up inside to breaking point. In the end, her mind finally gave in.

   A handful of maids were assigned to look after her in her bedridden condition. She had to survive day after day in that bedroom, forbidden to go anywhere else. But a turning point came. My mother became pregnant.

   The mistress had a son. Although my Mother was the lawful wife, she didn't have any son of her own. Because of that, the mistress’ son was adopted by the household, but he was still a bastard child. Many of Father’s relatives raised an eyebrow when the mistress’ child was welcomed as the official heir and eldest son.

   Several of Father's acquaintances distanced themselves from the family and he became restless because of it.

   And in the midst of all that came Mother's pregnancy.

   Father now cared for her once again.

   Even though she gave birth to the baby girl that was me, Father came back to attend to Mother. No, that's not the right way to put it. It was as if Mother had became the lawful wife she was supposed to be.

   Michael was born the following year. To this long-awaited eldest son, everyone was happy, especially my Father.

   It was probably Mother's happiest moments.

   But that happiness didn't last long.

   The mistress who was robbed of her lover became full of sorrow and began to suffer. Since Father couldn't ignore his first love, he went back to attend to the mistress.

   Mother knew all too well what he was doing, but despite that, she often appeared to be in a good mood. I hated the fact that Father was jumping back and forth between the two. Maybe the reason why I dislike men was caused by my childhood experiences with Father.

   I decided that I would protect Mother and my brother in Father's stead.

   Especially my little brother. In my eyes, he was adorable.

   Mother often slept for long periods of time, so it was just me and Michael that kept each other company.

   That's when I first noticed his ability.

   It happened during the spring when I was just six years old.

   I was playing in the garden when I got pricked by a thorn on the roses. As blood dripped from my finger, it was not me but Michael who started crying.

   Michael wrapped his hand around mine and whispered 'Pain go away.' repeatedly. I thought it was the cutest thing in the world. I was so happy.

   I was about to say 'It's healed!' just to make him smile, but I never got the chance.

   There was no wound.

   Blood trails were still there, but the wound had disappeared without a trace.

   I couldn't understand what I was seeing and thought it was a different finger.

   But when I examined the other fingers, there was still no wound.

   A throbbing wound just suddenly disappeared. Even a child would know it was something abnormal.

   I asked Michael if he was the one who did it.

   We tried again. This time I pricked myself with a thorn on another finger and he cured the injury in an instant. I definitely didn’t misunderstand.

   I hugged Michael who had an anxious expression and thanked him with a smile. After that, I had him promise me not to use his powers in public.

   In the next few years to come, Michael's abilities were never discovered.

   He was trying desperately to mediate between Father and Mother. They often fought with each other. He probably thought that he was the only one who could take care of this broken couple.

   He started awkward conversations and constantly retained a fake smile. For Michael who was an introvert, it must have taken a lot of effort.

   During this time, Mother, like me, got pricked by a thorn in the garden.

   I couldn't blame Michael for what he did.

   He probably wanted them to smile again.

   He thought Father and Mother would also smile at him like I did when he healed me.

   But after he cured her finger, what he got instead was dreaded fear and sickening hatred.

   Father branded him as a monster and swore that Michael could not have been his son.

   He blamed Mother for having raised a demon.

   Mother was frightened of Michael and fled the room.

   She was already weak. After she went mad, she cried herself to death.

   Michael who was left behind blamed himself for what had happened.

   A young child was prostrating in front of me while his head rubbed the floor. He vehemently apologised for killing Mother and taking Father away.

   It was not Michael's fault. How could such a gentle child commit such heinous crimes?

   He only wanted everyone to laugh. He only wished for gratitude in return.

   But no matter how many times I told him that it was not his fault, he never took my words to heart.

   Michael gradually withdrew from society. He grew bangs to hide behind and started walking with his back arched forward. He rarely left his room and never spoke with any of the servants. I was the only one he would still talk to.

   At the time, Father only cared about his reputation and would never let us out of the house.

   He would also never approach us. I wasn't even allowed a private tutor. Thanks to him, even though I am a noble, I grew up lacking in key areas. But I didn't care about that.

   I wanted to run away from home.

   I didn't have any plans to get married. I thought that maybe I'll become a nun.

   I was shocked when Michael ran away from home without telling me, but I was glad he did anyway.

   Especially right now, as I looked at him, I was sure he made the right choice.

"Hey, Michael."

"Hm? What's wrong?"

"Do you regret it?"

   'About what?' wasn't a reply that came back.

   But I was sure the meaning of the question was conveyed over to him.

   Michael used his ability to save Klaus.

   It was the magic he had kept hidden all this time. The traumatic powers that broke our entire family apart.

   An enormous amount of guilt would definitely come with using such powers.

   The wound from when he was branded a monster by his own parents surely ran deep.

   But even so, Michael laughed out loud. With his gentle eyes, he continued to laugh ceaselessly.

"Sis, have you been talking with the princess?"

   Hey, Michael.

   How long has it been since you were able to laugh like this?

TN: Sorry this chapter took a while. I blame it on technical difficulties and a game.

Anyway, it’s been a wall of text for the whole chapter. I like doing Bianca's point of view. It’s somehow engaging to read. The following chapter would probably go back to the main plot. I can’t wait!

As always, thanks to spacewhale for thy edits. Don’t forget there’s a Discord server to join!

EN: Hey, kiddos. The drama in this chapter about Bianca and Michael's family was spicy. It was a mess to translate, though. Anyway, as I was reading and editing, I realized something.

Something important.

There should totally be a spin-off series called 'The Housewives of Nabel.' Pretty much everyone in the kingdom is melodramatic. As such, I have taken the liberty to provide all you folks with a lovely poster preview of the upcoming reality TV!

All the lovely ladies from left to right are Klausina, Michaela, Lutzy, Randolfia, Leonhardtie, Bianckackcka, and Theodora! Watch the premiere live this Saturday, starting at 8 P.M. Don't miss the most engaging show of the century!

Also, just to clarify because it's probably been a while for some of you, Michael is the second son of the Diebold family. Basically, that means the father just ended up rolling with his mistress' son as the heir…which kinda makes me curious. I wonder what sort of character Michael and Bianca's older brother is, but he probably won't ever show up.

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