Micheal returned from his bath, his hair still damp, and slipped into the massive four-poster bed where Ethan was already lying silently.
The brothers rested side by side, the room filled with the quiet hum of the castle settling into the night. Despite their best efforts, sleep eluded them both.
After several minutes, Micheal turned slightly, his voice hesitant. "Ethan, are you awake?"
Ethan grunted in response, his tone noncommittal. "Barely. What is it?"
Micheal hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. "I… wanted to apologize," he began awkwardly. "For earlier. For accusing you like that about Dame Vivian. I shouldn't have brought it up the way I did."
Ethan's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, his expression unreadable. "You wouldn't have said it without a reason," he replied evenly. "How did you know it was me?"
Micheal exhaled softly, relieved by Ethan's calm demeanor. "I… it started as a routine check on Magda's retainers," he admitted. "Standard precautions, making sure everyone was loyal. But then I found out Vivian had injuries. Aura burns. Injuries only someone with a high concentration of aura could've caused."
He paused before continuing. "I asked a trusted subordinate to investigate. The conclusion was… unmistakable. It was you. But don't worry, only I, my subordinate, and Vivian know."
Ethan's brow furrowed, his mind working to piece together the fragments of that night. "And she's stayed silent all this time?"
"As far as I know, yes," Micheal confirmed. "Which is why I think… it wasn't entirely unwelcome. But that's something only you can find out."
Ethan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I feel like a beast, Micheal. Losing control like that, hurting Vivian of all people…"
Micheal placed a hand on Ethan's shoulder, his voice steady but direct. "You're not a beast, Ethan. You just haven't acknowledged your feelings yet. They're there, buried under layers of pride and denial, and they slip out when you lose control. That's what happened with Vivian."
Ethan froze, his breath catching as Micheal's words landed. He turned inward, grappling with confusion about his emotions toward Vivian. The guilt lingered, but he couldn't fully understand what he felt or why it hurt so much.
After a long pause, Ethan turned to Micheal, his voice low. "Earlier, when I raised my hand against you… I lost control. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."
Ethan exhaled deeply, the weight of his emotions pressing on him.
"But how did you resist me? Micheal, I used aura. Do you realize how dangerous that was? I… I could have seriously hurt you. Maybe worse. You were supposed to be…" He trailed off, his voice faltering at the thought.
Micheal's lips quirked into a small smile. "A cripple? Someone with a heart too weak to handle mana or aura?" He shook his head lightly. "There are people out there who are born with both mana and aura but can't use either because they interlock. For most, it's a wasted talent."
Ethan sat up, his blue eyes narrowing. "Are you telling me… you're a battle mage?"
Micheal's smile turned sheepish. "Yes. My teacher—a random encounter, really—helped resolve the interlock and trained me. And… I owe part of it to you, too. All those years you forced me to do strength training? It gave me a body strong enough to wield aura and mana when the time came."
Ethan's eyes widened, a slow grin spreading across his face. Without warning, he pulled Micheal into a tight hug. "You're not a cripple anymore," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You can use aura. And mana. Micheal, that's incredible!"
Micheal laughed softly, patting Ethan's back. "Easy, Ethan. You're crushing me."
Ethan leaned back, still grinning. "Father always said you'd be weak and infertile because of your weak heart. But now? You're free, Micheal. You can have children. You can do everything they said you couldn't."
Micheal's face turned crimson. "Ethan, stop."
Ethan's grin turned mischievous as he leaned back against the headboard. "You know, after what I saw earlier, I'm reassured. You're not just capable of having children; you're packing enough to keep my sister-in-law very happy."
"Enough!" Micheal groaned, covering his face with both hands. "I know you saw it with your thermal vision. But please forget what you saw. Please"
Ethan raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "And how do you know about that?"
Micheal peeked through his fingers, his voice sheepish. "Because I can see it too."
Ethan's chuckle turned into a laugh. "You're serious? Micheal, that's an ability I only mastered after years of training. It's rare, even among aura users. Adrian can't even use it reliably in battle."
He shook his head in amazement. "You really are unique."
Micheal's embarrassment deepened. "Can we not talk about this?"
Ethan smirked, leaning back. "Fine. But one last thing… you didn't just inherit Harold's aura skills, drunken amnesia, and thermal vision. From what I saw earlier, you've got his… package too."
Micheal groaned louder, burying his face in a pillow. Then, suddenly, he peeked out, his curiosity overcoming his mortification. "Wait. Is Adrian… smaller than me?"
Ethan's jaw dropped, his expression torn between shock and exasperation. "Micheal, it's not a competition!"
Micheal's intrigued look didn't waver. Ethan finally sighed, throwing his hands up. "Fine! Adrian… is about average. Happy?"
Micheal grinned, satisfied. "Very."
Ethan shook his head, muttering under his breath. "You're impossible." But despite his exasperation, a fond smile tugged at his lips as he settled back into the bed.
Micheal turned to Ethan, his expression unusually serious.
"Since we're on the topic of manhood," he began hesitantly, "I want you to promise me something. Try not to… have children this year. And if you do…" He paused, his voice faltering slightly. "If you do, make sure Vivian has a proper position. She deserves better than being cast aside."
Ethan frowned, leaning forward slightly. "What is this about, Micheal? Why are you so obsessed with me becoming a father all of a sudden?"
Micheal looked at him almost pleadingly. "Please don't risk your life, even if it's to save someone. I beg you, we need you."
Ethan gave him a slight frown. "Where are we going with this now, Micheal?"
Micheal's shoulders sagged, the weight of his thoughts visibly pressing down on him. For a moment, he seemed conflicted, but then he sighed deeply, as if deciding to unburden himself.
"Because I… I see things, Ethan," he admitted quietly. "My mana gives me glimpses of the future. They're not always clear, but they're enough."
Ethan's eyes widened in surprise. "Does Magda know?"
Micheal shook his head. "No. Besides my teacher, no one does."
Ethan studied his brother for a long moment, his expression unreadable. He thought back to how Micheal had diverted attention from him earlier by revealing the embarrassing secret that both of them suffered from drunken amnesia, ensuring no one pushed Ethan to drink further.
It struck him as uncharacteristic of Micheal—especially since he had later eagerly accepted Ethan as his roommate for the night, something he would have usually resisted outright at the mere suggestion of sharing his space.
Finally, he asked, "In your foresight, did Vivian and I conceive a child today? And… did I die saving someone in the upcoming beast tide?"
Micheal's silence spoke volumes. Slowly, he nodded, his gaze dropping down.
Ethan's breath caught. "And what about Magda?" he asked carefully, his voice tinged with unease. "If you consummate your marriage… does something happen to her?"
Micheal didn't answer immediately, but under the pale moonlight streaming through the window, Ethan caught the glint of a tear rolling down his brother's cheek.
"Micheal," Ethan pressed, his tone gentler now. "Does Magda die in childbirth or something?"
Micheal's voice was barely above a whisper. "No," he said at last, his tone hollow. "Both Magda and Vivian were… killed by our father."
Ethan recoiled as though struck. "That's absurd," he said sharply. "Father is ambitious, yes, but he'd never kill innocent people. Let alone Vivian and Magda."
Micheal's gaze locked onto Ethan's, his blue eyes filled with a mix of despair and determination.
"Would he want a grandchild from an imperial princess, tying the Shelb family to the Emperor forever as the Imperial retainers? Or would he prefer a child from a royalist knight, binding us to the Emperor and his faction? He would rather have an Emperor who serves Shelb."
Ethan fell silent, his mind racing. After a long pause, he muttered, "Father is changing. He's neutral now."
Micheal's expression softened, but his tone remained firm. "Maybe he is. But can you risk it, brother? Can you risk Vivian's life?"
Ethan stiffened. "Vivian and I aren't even in that kind of relationship," he said, though his voice lacked conviction.
Micheal gave him a knowing look. "Stop hiding behind that façade," he said evenly. "I saw you kiss her on her graduation night. You were drunk, and she sent you home. You kissed her, Ethan. And do you remember what you told me on Magda's debut? You were drunk again, sitting by the fountain, and you confessed that you loved her."
Ethan's jaw clenched as Micheal's words sunk in.
Micheal continued, his tone sharper now. "You gave away your accolades to get a dance with Flora, and then you cried about Vivian not noticing you. Do you see the hypocrisy, Ethan? You're in love with her, and you've been running from it for years."
Micheal turned away, pulling the blanket over himself. "Goodnight, Ethan," he said flatly. "Take some time to digest your drunken actions from all these years. They might surprise you."
Ethan sat there, overwhelmed by the cascade of revelations. He had always been careful about drinking, knowing full well that once drunk, he had no control over his actions and no way to rectify mistakes he might make.
That lack of control terrified him, and he had avoided drinking outside the safety of close friends and family. Yet now, the realization that the few times he had let himself get drunk—almost always with Vivian—had led to confessions, kisses, and even moments of passion left him reeling.
He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Vivian had kept his drunken antics hidden from him for years.
The idea that she had silently carried the weight of his unfiltered emotions, without ever confronting him or exposing his vulnerabilities, filled him with both gratitude and embarrassment.
How could he possibly face her now, knowing what Micheal had revealed?
He stared at Micheal's back, frustration and confusion warring within him. Finally, he muttered under his breath, "You're impossible, Micheal."
Micheal didn't respond, already feigning sleep.
Ethan huffed, laying back against the pillows. Despite the turmoil in his mind, exhaustion eventually claimed him, though his dreams were far from peaceful.