Eldest SS9

To Hera.

Hera, I was truly in the wrong.

I promise, I’ll never nag you to study more again. You’re doing well enough already and I won’t undermine your confidence with needless complaints. I won’t force unreasonable schedules on you out of my selfish desire to pass on the throne quickly.

So, please, could you find it in your heart to forgive me? And perhaps also speak kindly to Belladi on my behalf?

Being forbidden from seeing Belladi is too harsh a punishment for me. I’m spending every night in tears.

—

It was no exaggeration; Killian was truly heartsick with longing and sorrow.

Wiping at damp eyes, he let out a heavy sigh as he wrote the letter.

“Haa…”

Belladi had said there was a right time for everything and they should wait patiently, but it was Killian who couldn’t bear it and reacted rashly.

He admitted that Hera had gotten swept up in it and suffered for it, too.

‘But… even so…’

She had thrown the house open to everyone, and yet barred only him!

A few days ago, Aining had raced back from Belladi’s with an ashen face.

She could not have known how disappointed Killian had been at that moment.

‘I’m the only one clinging, always just me.’

Belladi was always radiant, noble, and dignified, but somehow, whenever they were together, he ended up childish and awkward before her.

Even Killian detested this pathetic side of himself.

He stared for a moment at the letter of apology he was writing to Hera.

Then he looked over at the letter of reflection he’d written for Belladi.

Contemplating both, he snatched up his letters and tossed them into the fireplace, where they went up in flames.

‘I don’t care anymore.’

He couldn’t bear this sorrow any longer—writing letter after letter, sending them with no reply.

His tears had turned into resentment.

Killian collapsed facedown on the sofa in defeat.

Crackle, crackle.

The letters and apology burned away, leaving not a trace.

‘Belladi…’

As he sat in a daze, thoughts of her, warm and soft, drifted back into his mind.

Killian’s heart was like a reed—no matter how wounded or petulant he became, it always bent helplessly back toward longing for her.

‘Ah, what a fool I am.’

Fidgeting and staring at the fireplace, Killian suddenly bolted upright.

‘Yes, I’m a fool!’

With that declaration, he sat at his desk again and picked up his pen.

In neat, steady hand, he began once more to write a letter of reflection.

To the esteemed Duke Belladi Alton.

I don’t know how many letters I’ve rewritten today alone.

I keep writing, then burning. Writing, then burning. Now, for the last time, I pick up my pen again.

That’s how much I resent you, and that’s how much I miss you.

As he wrote these tearstained lines, someone knocked urgently at his chamber door.

Knock, knock, knock—

“Your Majesty!”

It was the chamberlain’s voice. Killian told him weakly to come in.

The chamberlain entered briskly and held out a silver tray to him.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty!”

“What are you making such a fuss about?”

“From House Alton!”

At that, Killian, limp and lifeless as a waterlogged letter, snapped to attention.

“From House Alton?”

“They’ve sent a ball invitation!”

“An invitation…!”

Could this be the very invitation to the ball celebrating Nesia Alton’s return—the one everyone in society was clamoring for?

Did it finally come to him?

As the chamberlain went on, Killian’s face bloomed like a flower awash in sunlight.

“And a letter from Duke Alton has arrived with it!”

“A—a reply!”

Killian all but snatched Belladi’s reply from the chamberlain’s hands.

Was it scented with perfume, or did her favorite fragrance naturally linger in the paper? He could sense her there.

Eager to savor the letter alone, Killian quickly dismissed the chamberlain and carefully broke the seal.

To my beloved red fox, Killian.

“Belladi…”

Just that endearment in her handwriting was enough to melt Killian’s heart.

Yearning brimming in his breast, he read on.

Sorry for the late reply. I’ve been busy preparing for the ball… but that would only be an excuse, wouldn’t it?

The truth is, I buried myself in these preparations because I couldn’t see you. If I didn’t keep busy, I felt I’d dash off to the imperial palace at any given moment.

If I say this, you’ll probably jump up and say,

“Then let’s just meet!”

right away, won’t you?

As if on cue, Killian sprang up from his seat.

“Then let’s just meet!”

But hear me out.

I’ve thought that, just this once, I too deserve to be scolded.

I knew how much you were pushing Hera for your freedom. I could have stepped in and stopped you, but I didn’t.

I thought studying was good for Hera, and that it would be beneficial for both of you… But deep down, I just wanted to be with you sooner myself.

The day Hera ran away and came here, I was suddenly aware of my own selfishness.

There was already a look of weariness on her face that she never had as a child…

Strictly speaking, Hera isn’t even of age to inherit the throne yet, is she? Barring exceptional circumstances, it’s normally not until around your age that a coronation is celebrated.

You were the same, after all.

Maybe we were both racing toward a single goal too blindly.

With these thoughts, I decided I, too, needed penance. And the thing that pains me most is not being able to see you.

By keeping us apart, both you and I are being punished, so it’s the most effective discipline of all, don’t you think?

At that, Killian nodded.

‘Of course—Belladi is wise!’

And yet, he grieved.

‘It was my fault Hera suffered, so why should Belladi bear the guilt… She’s just too kind.’

He read on.

So I bore it for a few days, but when I saw your latest letter, I realized I couldn’t bear it any longer.

So, yesterday, I called Hera aside and apologized. I told her that most of what you did wrong was related to me, so I was sorry too.

Hera, in that moment, practically leaped to her feet.

“No, absolutely not! I want to be emperor as soon as possible! And I want to see you two get married, too!”

She looked so much like you, I was suddenly reminded how you truly are siblings.

Anyway, the ball preparations are finished now, and I’ve spoken with Hera, so I think it’s time to end our penance.

I’d hoped to send your invitation sooner, but my reply ended up delaying it a bit.

Killian, if you miss me too, would you come to me tonight?

I’ll be waiting.

With all my love, Belladi Alton.

The handwriting was crisp and elegant, yet the gentleness of love overflowed from every line. Killian wasted no time—he retrieved a magic diamond.

‘I’m on my way, Belladi!’

In an instant, he was gone.

The next day,

Killian returned in the late morning, with Belladi by his side.

They held hands as if they’d never be parted again.

---

A little more time passed, and at last, the day of Nesia’s return arrived.

Belladi, who had been staying at the palace attached to Killian as if with invisible glue, only returned to House Alton that morning.

Of course, by her side was Killian, who—thanks to the power of love—had already finished all his work in advance.

“Sis!”

Meldor, with rare irritation, glared at Belladi.

“How is the host of the ball always away like this?”

“I made sure to assign all roles so things would go smoothly even without me, didn’t I?”

“But it’s just not the same when you’re gone!”

With a faint smile, Belladi patted her brother’s head and walked confidently toward the ballroom.

Meldor stood for a moment, hand to the spot Belladi had tousled, then turned sharply around.

There stood Killian, watching with an amused smile.

“You seem very happy, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Leaving your little brother in someone else’s care, you must be pleased to have my sister all to yourself, huh?”

Killian answered coolly, unfazed by the pointed remark.

“I certainly am. And this isn’t someone else’s house, you know.”

“Then whose house do you think it is?”

“It’ll soon be my house as well, brother-in-law.”

“Wha—?! My house?! Brother-in-law?!”

As Meldor sputtered, the butler, Rover, dashed up to him.

“Meldor, the mages from the Tower have arrived!”

“Ugh! I’ll let it go this time because I’m busy, but if you keep making jokes like that—even if you’re the emperor—I’ll have none of it!”

Grinding his teeth, Meldor strode off.

Amused by his brother-in-law’s reaction, Killian headed for the ballroom as well, and there he encountered Hera.

The red-haired siblings, meeting in someone else’s home, locked eyes for a moment.

“Brother.”

It was Hera who approached first. She stepped up to Killian and held out her hand.

“Hera?”

“I’ve read all those letters of apology you kept sending. I wasn’t going to let just one letter move me, but you sent more than ten in just a few days.”

“Ahem.”

“Now I truly understand your sincerity. I realize now that I was also acting a little childish. This is the path I chose, and I should take responsibility for it.”

“Hera…”

Touched by his admirable sister, Killian reached for the hand she offered.

“Let’s shake on it—peace between us, Brother.”

“All right, Hera. Let’s get along from now on.”

They clasped hands warmly and shook them, but then Hera’s next words made Killian freeze.

“Then, as a token of our reconciliation, shall we get our forms of address straight?”

“Forms of address?”

“I’ll soon be emperor, so I can’t keep being formal with you forever, can I? Are you planning to keep speaking to me so casually?”

It was something he’d never expected.

Blankly, Killian blinked at her, but Hera only smiled sweetly.

“Let’s practice in advance until we’re used to it, Killian.”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

At that moment, Killian understood beyond doubt:

Hera would wield imperial power more surely than anyone else.