Ch. 148 To Three (1)
Ianâs expression darkened as he watched his cousin stand up and open the windows.
ââ¦I.â
An excuse was about to leave his mouth, but then he stopped himself. Such words were of no use.
âIâm sorry.â
He apologized instead. Simon looked at Ianâs slightly bowed head, then turned towards Louise hugging a pillow in her sleep. She must have been exhausted to sleep even in that position.
âLies easily snowball, no matter how small it starts.â
âI didnât want her to worry.â
âIâd rather you made her worry. Ian, look at me.â
Their gazes met each other in midair, and the light of childhood was gone from their eyes.
âMy father explained everything to me as a child.â
Why Simon had to be limited. That burden that was placed on him. Everything.
âHe could have simply said âDonât do that.ââ
Instead, the duke told the little boy everything he had to fear. And so, Simon learned to be afraid. For a while, it seemed that all the adult nobles were watching his path, but it was better this way. He would rather know what he should be afraid of rather than remain ignorant. His father had set limits for him out of worry and affection.
âFurthermore, your position holds many secrets. You should let Louise know as much as she can.â
Simon stretched his arm out the open window. Outside there was a small space, and with a screech of old metal, he pulled out a heavy glass bottle. It was the drink that Ian bought yesterday. He had lied about drinking all of it last night.
âEven for the smallest thing.â
Simon pulled out two shot glasses from his drawer.
âYou shouldnât lie.â
âIâll apologize to Louise tomorrow.â
âIan.â
âHmm?â
Simon still had an apprehensive look on his face.
âDonât lie to Louise.â
He couldnât contain the graveness in his voice
ââ¦.Or else I canât just stand by.â
Simon had lied to Louise only once when he said that he regarded her as a complete friend. Both Louise and Simon knew it was a falsehood, but it was a necessary one to protect their friendship, which was more precious than any emotion.
But with Ian it was different. He was allowed to have a true relationship with Louise. Simon knew he was being presumptuous, but he couldnât just stand by, even if it came to issuing a childish warning.
âI wonât.â
Ian looked at Simon with a serious expression on his face.
âI wonât tell a lie.â
âGood.â
âIâm sorry.â
âThere is nothing to apologize for. It is my prerogative to worry about Louise as a friend.â
There was a note of pride in his voice.
âWell, as a friend?â
âYes. The friend you introduced me to.â
What kind of friend do you look at as if they were dripping in sugar?
Tuk.
Simon set the bottle down and sat opposite of Ian. The cozy carpet served even better purpose at night, as it conserved the warmth of the day. Like a field of grass in the heat of the sun.
Ian slowly opened the bottle, releasing a sweet scent into the air. It was a drink worthy for celebrating Simonâs special birthday as an adult.
âShall we mix something?â
Simon shook his head. He had never added anything to his liquor. Ian tipped the heavy bottle over, and a stream of wine came out like a long breath. The liquor beaded and splashed into the glass until it was nearly filled to the brim. If any more was poured, it would certainly overflow.
âI feel like Iâm introducing a new friend today.â
Ian filled his shot glass similarly.
âYou like alcohol enough to call it your friend?â
âOf course. But if you ask me if I like it as much as Simon Hillard, the answer is no.â
Ian held out his glass.
âHappy birthday, my friend.â
Simon gazed into Ianâs face. Light seemed to flow from Ian, even in this time of darkness. However, Simon knew that Ianâs light was not innate. It was the product of his hard work. Just as Simon had endeavored to bury himself in the dark, Ian constantly strove for the light. Though opposites, that was the one way they resembled each other. Maybe it would be like this until the end of time. The world called this kind of relationship a lasting friendship.
âThank you.â
Simon clinked his glass carefully against Ianâs.
âMy friend.â
They both emptied their shot glasses at the same time.
âYou may have heard the story.â
Ian filled Simonâs glass to the brim again.
âThereâs a myth in the royal family that hasnât been broken for generations.â
âA myth?â
This time Simon poured Ianâs drink for him.
âWhen you compare two people who follow the noble path, the person who was born first holds their alcohol better.â
âMy father says heâs never lost to the king.â
âThatâs what the duke said? Thatâs strange.â
Ian tipped his second glass into his mouth.
âMy father said heâs never lost a drink to the duke. Just like the myths of the royal family says.â
âThere must be a good reason for that story not being made public.â
Simon easily swallowed his second drink, as if in defiance to Ianâs story.
âWell, we canât have the strange talk spread.â
âBecause it contradicts the myth.â
They clinked their third drink together.
âThere can be no doubt that itâs right.â
âDonât be too certain.â
They emptied their glasses again. There was no helping the spirit of competition between them.
âFor the honor of my father, His Majesty the King, I should see Simon Hillard falling down drunk.â
âWith only one bottle?â
Simon looked down at the bottle and chuckled. He knew that it was a strong drink, of course, and the bottle itself was so large that it wasnât typically found at a party or mansion. He was sure it was meant for delivery to the wizardâs guild. Ianâs mouth crinkled into a smile.
âDonât worry. Is there anything I canât find on this land?â
âThatâs a nice answer.â