Aurelia's POV
"It's simply because I like you."
For a moment, my mind simply… stopped.
Had I heard that right?
I blinked, my thoughts scrambling as I turned to look at him—really look at him.
Alaric, the same boy who had spent the last half hour flustering at every glance, was now calmly reading his book as if he hadn't just dropped a statement bold enough to shake the foundation of my sanity.
'Likes me?'
Of course, I knew.
It wasn't some grand revelation—if anything, it had been painfully obvious for a while now. I was pretty sure everyone and their mothers had already figured it out.
…Well, maybe not Lily. But she was an exception, so that was fine.
Still, to say it so easily, so casually—as if it was a simple fact, like the sky being blue or the fire being warm—where was the flustered mess I was used to?
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the back of his head. 'He really doesn't bother fixing his hair, does he?' My gaze drifted from him to the window, then to the crackling fireplace, then to the bookshelves—restless, unable to settle, because my thoughts weren't settling either.
It wasn't the first time I had been confessed to.
…Though, to be fair, it wasn't exactly something that happened often.
But this one—this moment—felt different.
Every other time, the words had come from people seeking something. An upper hand in social circles, influence, connections—there was always some angle, some reason that had nothing to do with me.
But Alaric… his words held no ulterior motive.
No expectation.
No advantage to be gained.
It was simple. It was pure.
And for that alone… I admired it.
But sadly—for me—I can't accept this from him.
I've known Alaric since the day he was born.
The way he walks, talks, reads, writes—every little thing about him carries traces of the people around him. Of course, Miss Xironia and Master Novius have shaped him the most. The maids and butlers have had more casual, friendly interactions with him. But when it comes to seeking knowledge, when it comes to learning something new, his first instinct has always been to approach me.
In his eyes, I am someone to look up to.
And maybe that's why he was so happy earlier when I wasn't embarrassed talking to Eirlys—to him, I am one of his idols.
But the truth is… I am nobody compared to him.
I've seen it firsthand—his capabilities, his potential. I've watched him do the things that made me wonder if I had been hallucinating. And yet, here I am, stagnant. Trapped. Stuck in a place where nothing changes for me. I glanced at the books spread before me, their pages filled with knowledge I had spent years accumulating, and yet, it all felt… small.
Alaric shouldn't like someone like me.
I'm not worth his time.
Sooner or later, he'll surpass us all. The ones too weak to stand beside him will become dead weight.
Master Novius is the perfect example—so strong that even Lady Xironia and Lady Elowen, both powerful in their own right, struggle to keep up with him. Compared to them, we—the workers, the maids, me, even Alaric—are nothing but burdens that need protection.
But one day Alaric will not be one.
And that day, Alaric will be the same as him.
Maybe the others will change, grow stronger, keep up. But me? I will always be the extra weight.
Alaric shouldn't like me.
A soft hum escaped my lips before I even realized it.
"Hmm?"
Alaric responded instinctively, looking up from his book, brows slightly raised. He didn't look embarrassed. Not even the slightest bit bothered by what he had just said.
'Did he even realize what he said?'
'Did he phrase it wrong?'
'Did he even mean it that way?'
I swallowed. Something inside me wanted—needed—to be sure.
"So… you like me?" I asked, voice carefully neutral.
I should have left it alone. I know I should have left it alone.
But I didn't.
"I do," he said simply.
My stomach dropped.
I should have never asked.
A thousand thoughts ran through my head all at once, tangling into an unfixable mess. 'What do I even say to that?'
'Should I tell him I don't like him?'
'...Am I stupid?'
'No, seriously, am I dumb? There's no possible way I can say something like that to a child and expect it to land without consequences.'
I hesitated, overthinking my words until the silence started to stretch too long.
Then, finally—
"Al, you're still too young," I said, my voice steady despite the storm in my head. "How about we find a time in our days after you've grown up a bit?"
He stared at me for a long moment.
His eyes—gorgeous.
'Shouldn't they be similar to Master Novius… why does his eyes look… sharper?' I looked into them, 'His eyes seem paler sometimes while other times the color is so deep… It must be because of the difference in light.'
Then, to my complete and utter shock—
"Fine."
Just like that, he went back to his book, as if the conversation had never even happened.
I sat there, stunned.
He took it way better than I expected.
Good.
That was… good.
For me, at least.
Because the last thing I ever wanted to be was a problem in his life. Not for a boy who feels so close to me.
Time passed in a blur, the sun slowly sinking into the horizon, casting the sky in a warm orange glow. The fire in the library had burned low, its flickering light barely holding back the creeping cold that seeped into the room.
Well… Alaric certainly seemed to think so.
He sat there, hunched over his book, shivering slightly as he turned the pages, his hands occasionally rubbing at his arms. Beside him, two more books sat stacked on the table—skill books, obviously.
The last time I watched him read one of those, he had learned a skill by this time.
He's talented, that much is undeniable.
I hadn't realized how long I had been lost in thought, my eyes lazily watching him the whole time instead of focusing on my own work. When the realization hit, my lips curled slightly in amusement.
'What a sly little bastard.'
He had completely distracted me while quietly finishing his reading.
And, as if right on cue, he shut the book with a soft pwoof and stretched, letting out a satisfied groan.
I watched him, half-expecting—hoping, even—that I'd get to witness another one of his absurd "first try" successes, but instead, he simply gathered all three books, stacked them, and started carrying them back to the shelves.
My brows furrowed.
"Why are you putting them back?" I asked. "You don't usually bother arranging things if you know you're going to read them again tomorrow."
Alaric stopped mid-step and turned to me, looking genuinely confused.
"I'm not reading them again tomorrow."
"…Huh." I blinked, then smirked. "Hehe~ Are you saying you gave up on learning those?"
"What? No." His reply was so flat it nearly killed me. "I just finished all three of them."
There was a silence.
Then I chuckled.
"Alaric, there's no way you read all three in just a few hours. I know you're a fast reader, but that's a little much, even for you."
Alaric stared at me, his brows lowering, and for some reason, I got the distinct feeling I had just stepped into a trap.
"What?" I smirked. "I'm not falling for it. Don't be sad, just try something else next time—"
*Thud!*
A book fell off the table.
My book.
I stared at it, then at him.
Alaric, who was now smiling smugly.
He had just used [Blow].
On his first try.
Again.
I sighed, shaking my head. "It's really not as impressive the second time, Alaric. At this point, we expect you to learn at least one skill a day."
Alaric just kept grinning at me before extending his palm forward.
I was about to ask what he was doing when I noticed something.
Tiny blue motes began to swirl around his fingertips, gathering with increasing density.
Before I could even react, the energy in his hand coalesced into a sphere—[Waterball]
Another skill.
Another one.
On his first try.
Again.
I stared at him, at his smug, egoistical smile, and felt my sanity take another hit.
"What?" he said, lifting his palm slightly, his voice filled with innocent amusement. "I can't do [Earthrise] here. It'll ruin the floor."
I dragged a hand down my face.
This kid didn't just read all three books.
He mastered them.
In a single day.
And used two of them perfectly on his first try.
I had officially run out of words.