The Marquis’s voice sank even lower. I hadn’t thought it could go any deeper, but it fell like a plunge into the abyss, and the weight of it made even me restless to the point of madness.
If only Mother would ease the mood a little…
I had already noticed in the short time we’d been here: the Marquis grew strangely meek in front of her. Like seeking help, I glanced at Mother—but she remained impassive, showing no intent to intervene.
Only then did I realize: though she betrayed nothing outwardly, she believed I deserved an apology. At the same time, she had given tacit consent not to interfere in what was essentially a family matter.
And so it was I who sat in the most uncomfortable position.
I don’t need an apology.
In the first place, Erhan didn’t owe me one.
Yes, I was only five, very young—but Erhan, at least by appearance, looked somewhere in his early teens. For a child like him, a sudden younger sibling would naturally feel awkward. Even if he had shoved me on purpose, I wasn’t hurt. I was fine.
“Hurry.”
But the Marquis wasn’t the kind to let it go.
It didn’t take Erhan long, staring at the floor in silence, before he raised his white flag.
“I’m sorry, Oscar.”
As if the tension had never existed, he darted close and wrapped me in his arms.
“It was my carelessness that made me push you. It wasn’t because I had any ill feelings. I’m truly happy that you’ve come into this family. I’ve been waiting for a day like this…”
He clutched my clothes so tightly it felt like he would lift me off the ground, rattling on breathlessly.
“Oh dear, I went on too long.”
Bowing exaggeratedly, he said,
“As Mother asked, I’ll show you your room and the estate.”
His performance was like a stage actor’s, leaving me slack-jawed. Mother, of course, was the perfect audience.
Her lips curved high, and with a graceful hand covering half her mouth, she declared, “My, you two will surely be such close brothers!” The Marquis too seemed pleased with the play, smiling faintly behind her.
“Take my hand.”
Once again, Erhan’s hand was held out before me.
I stared, widening my eyes. His face and tone pretended calm, but in truth he was straining desperately.
His hand trembled with a faint spasm.
“Oscar.”
…Was it really all right to take it?
If I didn’t, the situation would only become more troublesome. So in the end, I grasped his hand. Contrary to my expectation that it might be soft, like his beautiful appearance, his hand was large, firm, and calloused, as though used to gripping a sword.
“Ugh.”
Suddenly Erhan clamped his own mouth and turned aside, retching. His whole body shook as he gagged again and again. I was too stunned to do anything. Was he sick? I moved to check, but the Marquis sighed coldly and rebuked him: “Making a fuss again.”
Making a fuss?
How could that be called fussing? This didn’t look like fuss at all.
While I stood bewildered, Erhan’s hand slipped free, and the Marquis summoned him again.
“Erhan Serpentine.”
“I—I’m sorry…”
He tried to pull himself together but failed. Pale as chalk, he gagged for some time before collapsing to the floor.
When he hugged me, clothes against clothes seemed fine. But just holding my hand? Is touching me that unbearable?
Living together from now on was going to be quite a problem.
I had never imagined he’d retch just from contact with me. I found myself staring at his hand—and then I realized. Those weren’t calluses I’d felt, but raw, abraded skin.
Clothes he could touch, but hands he could not. Skin rubbed raw, as if scrubbed endlessly. Putting the pieces together, the answer was clear:
Erhan Serpentine has a phobia of filth.
With that in mind, all his behavior suddenly made sense.
And since he had no liking for me, touching flesh to flesh must seem all the more repulsive.
“You’re embarrassing yourself again.”
The Marquis, it seemed, considered his heir’s condition shameful—a flaw—and pushed him all the harder. Even now, while his son suffered visibly, he sighed as though mortified.
“Do it properly, Erhan. Take Oscar’s hand.”
Once more, he tried to force Erhan to grasp me, to cure him by sheer compulsion.
Oh, just tell him to stop already.
I was the one caught between them and paying the price.
Yet, no—it wasn’t exactly a phobia of dirt. When our clothes touched, it was tolerable. But skin to skin made him recoil unbearably.
So it isn’t just a cleanliness issue. It’s a revulsion toward people themselves…
But the Marquis wanted to force a resolution.
Of course, as the heir of House Serpentine, with a reputation outside his father’s gloomy image, Erhan was supposed to be without blemish. The Marquis’s attitude was understandable on a rational level. But still, watching this made my chest tighten with frustration.
He was a child, after all. A pale-faced boy, trembling and desperate to wipe his hands clean—how could his father drive him further into a corner?
“Erhan Serpen—”
The Marquis was surely about to scold him again. But I was quicker. I whipped a handkerchief from my pocket, wrapped it over my palm, and swiftly grabbed Erhan’s hand.
At first he reflexively tried to push me away. But realizing the touch against his palm was not bare skin but soft cloth, his eyes widened.
I was meticulous, keeping the handkerchief folded so the Marquis wouldn’t notice, in case Erhan flinched and it was exposed. Of course, even with the cloth, there was still some contact. I had tried to avoid it, but a little was inevitable.
He’s too surprised to react.
Indeed, Erhan only stared, stunned, unable to pull away as before.
Why did he fear the Marquis so much? And why did the Marquis press him so mercilessly? I had no answers. But one thing was certain: I knew what I had to do now.
“Brother. Hello.”
At my sudden words, all three froze. The Marquis, bristling in a fury to scold; Mother, quietly watching; even Erhan himself—every one of them stared wide-eyed.
“Oscar!”
After a stunned silence, Mother cried my name in a piercing voice and snatched me into her arms.
In my surprise, I dropped the handkerchief. But Erhan, quick on the uptake, discreetly caught it and hid it behind his back. Relieved, I glanced upward—straight into Mother’s eyes. Her amber irises brimmed with tears of joy, glittering like gold.
“My goodness, my goodness. You spoke on your own!”
So moved by a single greeting… it made me feel faintly sorry for keeping so quiet out of shame all this time. I lowered my eyes, pretending not to notice.
But of course, Mother wouldn’t allow even that moment. She smothered me with kisses across my nose, unable to contain her happiness.
“Oh, thank you. Thank you.”
She gave thanks to no one in particular. At her side, the Marquis’s eyes met mine. He seemed surprised, but respectful of the moment—stepping back, watching.
I didn’t think they’d react this much.
Normally I wouldn’t have spoken. But I couldn’t stand seeing the Marquis berating his child—and especially not if it was because of me. If showing goodwill to Erhan might stop it, then I had no choice but to greet him.
“Oscar, do you like your brother?”
Mother was over the top, as always. She didn’t care that the Marquis was standing there, that this was our very first day in the house.
Feeling embarrassed, I tapped her and pointed toward Erhan, who stood awkwardly, at a loss.
“Oh, look at me! Erhan is waiting. Goodness, how much must you like him, for you to speak, to actually speak… It’s a blessing you have Erhan as your brother. What a dependable one he is!”
This time, Mother seemed to mean it. Her smile was radiant as she praised him. Erhan only stared, blank and dazed, while the Marquis had already returned to his calm mask, as if he had never radiated menace at all.
She still couldn’t calm down. She must have been far more worried than I realized about my lack of speech, my unchildlike silence.
After all, many had said I was creepy, emotionless.
Even at the royal palace, servants whispered behind my back, wondering if my head was broken. Mother surely heard every word.
“Then, we’ll be off.”
Perhaps feeling like a fool on stage, Erhan looked thoroughly uncomfortable as he tried to excuse himself.
“Ah…”
But then came something unexpected.
Erhan reached out—and for the first time, he cautiously took my hand.