Home/My Youngest Keeps Bringing Me Male Leads/ch 66

Chapter 66

Cesenor watched regretfully as her small, soft body slipped away from him.

In truth, it wasn't a spell that required physical contact.

'Well, it wasn't intentional.'

More than that, he was surprised that the Waldemar twins' attachment to Agnes was deeper than he'd thought.

Agnes seemed to have complicated feelings as well, staring blankly in the direction Leonard had disappeared.

"Shall we go?"

Agnes turned to Cesenor, smiling as if to cut off her turbulent emotions.

"Yes, let's."

Back at the cabin in Asmarin, they showed Silmare the flowers they'd collected.

Silmare nodded with a grave expression.

"Yes, it's Romanil."

They even confirmed with the old man, who also affirmed it was Romanil.

"Then, the one who instigated the attack on our house..."

"If there's no other place where Romanil is cultivated, then it must be Waldemar."

"But Waldemar has no reason to do that to us. They wouldn't care about such insignificant assets—would they really go to such lengths?"

Agnes tried to sort through her tangled thoughts.

To ensure she didn't miss any of the information Silmare had painstakingly uncovered.

The information about Romanil.

Captain Miller's condition.

And the reason they needed to use Romanil, processed in such a remote place.

Above all, the suspicion that it wasn't just used on Harold Miller weighed on her mind.

What could have motivated them to plan something like this?

'Wait. If it wasn't about coveting assets, then perhaps...'

She recalled what Cesenor had told her before.

'It seems there was a long-standing conflict with Waldemar. About twenty years ago, the Viscount Laverose supported the elder brother of the current Count of Waldemar as the next head of the family.'

If the Laverose family had long been a thorn in Waldemar's side.

Suddenly, a powerful premonition struck her like lightning.

It felt as if someone had plucked out her heart and thrown it into a deep, distant chasm.

"My lady."

Rupert called her.

In his stony face, only his dark blue eyes blazed as if about to explode.

Rupert had come to the same conclusion.

Because he had experienced the same things she had.

'The master has returned, my lady.'

'He was so drunk that he fell and had an accident!'

'He incurred massive gambling debts in Calben City...'

'Regarding the servant who accompanied the master, as you asked—one is dead, and the other is so lost to drink that conversation is impossible.'

'With an overdose, a person loses their sanity. Those around them would just think they're addicted to alcohol.'

Why hadn't she realized it?

She felt foolish for having overlooked it all.

'They're all the same. Father, and those servants.'

The pieces of the puzzle fit together one by one.

If Waldemar was at the origin of it all.

From her father's fall to the Laverose family's struggle with debt.

Leonard and Cedric.

And the Countess of Waldemar.

Recalling her true feelings toward them, Agnes felt like strangling herself.

The cruel words the children had blurted out innocently echoed in her mind.

At the same time, she remembered Leonard picking flowers for her.

The children might not have known.

But the Countess must have known something.

Remembering the subtle attitude she'd occasionally shown, bile rose in her throat.

How ridiculous must her desperate struggle to survive have looked?

They must have calmly watched her pathetic struggle to the bitter end.

Like watching a winged insect have its wings and legs torn off, forced to crawl.

Her vision flickered.

'And yet I thought of them as benefactors...'

No.

Putting aside her anger at them.

In the midst of a feeling like the sky was falling, a thrill rose like hot sunlight.

'I wasn't abandoned...'

The Viscount of Laverose.

My father.

Whenever she opened his door, she had to throw open the curtains.

With vacant eyes, unable to speak properly, he was always searching for alcohol.

He would follow if she took his hand, but his leg, broken in a fall, never recovered.

Always lying down, his legs were emaciated and he couldn't walk properly.

When she tried to take him out to bathe, leaning on Rupert, he staggered so pitifully that it was painful to watch.

'Why did you do it?'

Agnes sometimes asked questions he couldn't hear.

'I was only fifteen when Mother died, Father.'

At an age when she needed her parents more than anyone.

'Was losing Mother so unbearable that you couldn't even care about us?'

Enough to abandon everything.

There were times she, too, wanted to abandon everything and run away.

Her siblings, the estate.

Even Amy, on some days.

That's why she'd always wondered.

How could her kind and benevolent father have abandoned them, sunk into gambling, and left them with such enormous debts?

If all of it was because her father had been addicted to Romanil.

'It wasn't Father's fault...'

Her father hadn't abandoned them.

'Amy.'

Her pitiful youngest sister.

She'd thought her mother died and her father abandoned her from birth.

'But that wasn't it.'

The stigma that the child's birth killed the mother and drove the father mad—all of it would prove false.

If the fall of Laverose was Waldemar's doing.

Agnes let out a long breath.

She felt as if she'd been submerged in a deep swamp and then forcibly pulled out.

She must have lost consciousness for a moment.

Gasping, Agnes struggled to return to her fading senses.

Murmuring surrounded her.

The sound felt like vibrations throughout her body, and she wanted to say "stop," but her voice wouldn't reach.

Suddenly, a cool breeze swept into her chest.

An inexplicable sensation.

It soothed her heart, which had been burning hot and about to explode.

It was so clear and gentle it made her want to cry.

'Who...'

When she opened her eyes, many people were there.

Rupert was supporting her collapsed body with his firm arms.

Cesenor had his hand over her forehead, golden powder spreading around it as he used healing magic.

Silmare also looked down at her with a contorted face, looking very sad and angry.

"I'm fine."

Despite her words, her voice was hoarse and unimpressive.

But she truly was fine.

Agnes tried to smile sincerely.

It felt as if she were facing a new world.

What she'd thought she'd lost wasn't real, and she'd even found the possibility that things could get better.

It was all thanks to the people who had come to her.

Not just the three men by her side, but Amy waiting for her at home as well.

Everything felt like a blessing that had come to her.

Agnes took Rupert's hand and rose.

She was still inside the cabin.

Thankfully, she hadn't been unconscious for long.

Though she could barely muster strength, she struggled to regain her senses.

There were things to confirm, things to plan, and things she had to do herself.

Amidst the flood of tasks in her mind, Agnes decided on what she needed to do right now.

Silmare.

She looked directly at the beautiful man before her.

The free and wise prince of the elves—he would do his utmost for anything concerning Agnes.

An inexplicable devotion.

But for now, she had no choice but to lean on him.

"Sir Silmare."

"Yes, Agnes."

Composing herself, Agnes appealed desperately.

"I have a favor to ask. If you can confirm whether someone is addicted to Romanil, could you take a look at my father?"

"Your father?"

"Yes, my father has also been lost to drink and barely conscious since one day. I suspect he might be addicted to Romanil."

"Yes, I'll do that."

"And, if someone is addicted, can they be cured?"

"Yes. But it's not possible here."

"Would we have to go to the Kingdom of Meridis?"

Silmare smiled gently.

"Would that be necessary? I have my homeland, the Naofa Forest."

His kind voice brought tears to her eyes.

Barely holding them back, Agnes grasped his hand desperately.

"Then, if my father really is addicted to Romanil, please, I beg you...! Besides the gold coins Amy brought, there are many valuable things. If you need anything, I'll give you whatever it is."

Silmare frowned slightly.

"My feelings for you are not a bargaining chip, Agnes. If I can help your father, that alone would be my joy."

She was speechless.

Too many emotions clogged her throat, and Agnes could only bow her head.

"Thank you, Sir Silmare."

That was all she could say.

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