Chapter 41

Clack, thud.

The sound of the door closing fully echoed in the quiet. Once he had made certain no one else was near, Millein pressed his hand to his chest. His heartbeat was steady, unchanged from the usual rhythm.

Only after confirming that did a low sigh slip from the young man’s lips.

“Ha…”

Keeping his heartbeat steady.

It was one of his long-standing peculiar habits. A quirk, perhaps, inherited from his parents.

—Nanny, get that child out of my sight. How much longer must I endure the sight of his tear-stained face?!

After giving birth to Huberg, his mother, Katia, had grown terribly irritable.

Even though she still maintained her gentle, gracious demeanor in public, within the house, it was all too common for her voice to rise in anger.

The Marquisate of Belov, admired beyond its walls as a model of harmony, was in truth nothing of the sort.

A mother who lived with constant irritation and wrath, and a father who was indifferent to his family.

Even the relationship between the brothers couldn’t be called good by any stretch of the imagination.

Looking back, Millein’s childhood held nothing but desolate memories. Even from an age so young he could barely recall it now, he had somehow understood that his sullen expressions only served to irritate Katia.

‘And when Mother grew angry… Father’s expression would darken as well.’

The Marquis of Belov, Philip, had never directly told him to school his expression. It was simply that children were often more perceptive than adults assumed, and Millein, in particular, was unusually sharp in that regard. The truth was, at such a young age, there had been countless reasons to feel wronged, countless reasons to cry.

But he was too young, too unpracticed, and too tender-hearted to master complete control over his face.

After being scolded several times for failing to hold back his tears, he eventually realized that it was far easier to correct his emotions than to correct his expression.

‘When emotions run high, the heart races along with them.’

So if he kept his heartbeat steady, he would never lose his composure.

From then on, he developed an obsessive habit of keeping his heartbeat steady. Setting aside the times after strenuous exercise, he never allowed it to quicken beyond a certain point in daily life.

‘Of course, now I know my expression was never truly the problem…’

Even after learning the true reason behind Katia’s constant irritability, his habit remained.

His composure in any circumstance came to be regarded as exemplary, and there were even many who found that calm demeanor appealing. Thus, long past his coming of age, his heartbeat no longer wavered noticeably, even without his conscious effort.

Even in moments of love, even in the midst of a kiss.

Millein recalled that day in the palace gardens, when he had kissed Adeline.

Lost in thought, she had stared at him blankly before suddenly turning her head away. The tips of her ears, as she turned, had been flushed red.

—…I should get going now. I’ll see you next time.

Even her small voice had trembled ever so slightly.

There had never been a single thing about her that failed to bring him joy.

“Renée.”

Even savoring the nickname he had given her left a sweetness lingering on his tongue. That name had always been enough to gladden him.

But today, no smile would come.

And of course, the reason lay with Adeline.

Millein recalled the moment he had left the banquet hall with Sophia Barrett.

Sophia, who was half-dragged along by his hand, had wasted no time in openly mocking his pretense once Adeline was out of sight.

“Ha! I always knew you were good at acting, but watching you with Adeline today was downright disgusting. Don’t you think so too, Milleinberg?”

“Why don’t you get to the point.”

The smile he always wore before Adeline vanished the instant he was alone with Sophia, his expression turning cold.