Chapter 141
Janus von Ribandt stood silently before the empty room, his face tightening into a frown. He did not need to knock to know that no one was inside.
At this hour. Wandering around without a shred of caution. Just where on earth had she gone?
“…Hah.”
The candleholder in his hand swayed faintly.
Then, disgusted by his own behavior, he clenched his jaw and turned away. In the past, this feeling would undoubtedly have been anger. He would have thrown the door open without hesitation and torn the room apart in search of clues. What exactly was Iora hiding? Why had she been acting like this lately?
“Like interrogating a criminal.”
He would have been consumed by unbearable fury toward his younger sister, who dared to spread such horrifying rumors — that she, the Crown Prince’s fiancée, was carrying on a romance with another man.
He would have flown into a rage, reported everything to their parents without delay, and had his ill-mannered sister confined to her room or slapped as punishment.
He would have hurled insults sharp as needles without the slightest hesitation. Even knowing the fear trembling in her eyes, he would only have pressed her harder, driving her further into a corner.
I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing everything right. This is all for your sake, Iora. That was what he kept telling himself.
But… Was it truly the right thing to do?
A wave of nausea rose in Janus. It was disgust. Deep, suffocating disgust at the years he had left behind. How could he have done that? She had been nothing more than… nothing more than a child.
He let out a ragged breath and scrubbed a hand over his face.
These days, he could barely bring himself to look her in the eye. One by one, everything he’d believed in seemed twisted out of shape. And at last, he found himself looking back on the things he and the rest of his family had done.
Only now.
‘Brother.’
‘Please save me.’
‘Please, help me.’
Why hadn’t he understood those pleading eyes? She had looked at him like that again and again.
“It was only after she changed.”
He remembered the voice of the present-day Iora von Ribandt, cold as she looked straight at him.
For eighteen years, they had lived under the same roof. Shared the same blood. She had been his little sister all that time. And yet, had he ever once tried to see the world from her side?
Had he ever truly thought of her as his little sister? Had she really been his sister at all? Or had they been worse than strangers? No, not perhaps. Certainly. As the thought repeated itself in his mind, Janus slowly lowered his head.
‘Worm. Vermin… That’s what you always called me.’
With a face gone cold, Iora had sneered those words at him. Janus had always been the son, while she had always been nothing more than a bug. Vermin.
Watching their father and mother bristle with outrage, Janus thought back. He searched his memory. Had there ever been a single time he had called that child’s name without first barking at her? To his shame, there hadn’t.
Janus felt his face grow hot. Not even once.
Even when they went to visit their ailing aunt, his father and mother had done nothing but rage and speak ill of her. How dare that ill-mannered girl throw another one of her mad fits.
As he watched his parents agonize over how they could crush that rebellious nature of hers, Janus felt as though he were looking at something horribly twisted, something that had gone terribly wrong.
‘Why? Why was it always like this?’
He had always believed it was acceptable for him to get angry. That it was only natural to direct his rage at a girl like Iora. Whenever he looked at her, he believed he had every right to do so. She was someone who deserved that treatment. Because she was lacking. Because she was foolish. He had truly believed that was why she needed to be scolded, disciplined, and kept under control.
Watching his sister slowly stumble through each lesson, he had compared her to Arcanda, who shone so brilliantly and earned praise wherever she went.
That child is this exceptional, so why are you so hopeless? That was what he had believed as he freely brought the rod down on her.
When Iora had looked at him with a mocking smile and asked if he truly thought she could ever become the Saint, it had felt as though someone had thrown cold water over him. Everything he had accepted as natural had begun to crack, until at last it shattered into pieces.
How could such a thing exist in this world? No one, not even the smallest, most insignificant creature, deserved to be treated that way… No one should be compared until they were made to feel worthless.
“I feel sick.”
Janus whispered through a face twisted with disgust. For some reason, the bridge of his nose stung, and his throat burned. As he stared at the closed door of that cold room, he wondered what thoughts had filled the mind of the girl trapped inside. How painful, how agonizing it must have been to wear away little by little until all she could do was give up.
“…An apology spoken now would never reach you. It wouldn’t bring you any comfort. And those words would only be my own selfish attempt to ease my guilt, so I don’t even have the right to ask your forgiveness, Iora.”
The past had been beastly. Thud, thud. The slow sound of his footsteps echoed through the mansion.
Janus already knew that he would not tell anyone Iora was gone today. His parents would never learn of it either.
However, he also knew all too well that such a small act could never atone for everything that had happened until now.
He was a coward.
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