FMY 31

The Third Estate… The common people who were not royalty, clergy, or nobility. In other words, the ordinary citizens who made up the majority of the country. No, now that industry had begun to develop, it even included the wealthy bourgeois class. And adding the lower classes to that, the term that referred to all of them was the Third Estate.

“The radicals…?”

“Yes. The radicals who harbor animosity towards the First and Second Estates, twisting and advocating the ideologies of liberalism or republicanism to suit their own tastes. I’m talking about those idle and violent bastards.”

“…But it wasn’t to this extent, was it?”

The era of industrialization had arrived, and it was a time when the voices of the common people were growing louder. It was a flow of history that was bound to come no matter what, and for Serge, who had experienced the modern era, it felt like an utterly natural progression. In such a situation, it was in some ways natural for them to organize their own assembly and raise their voices. But he didn’t think they had displayed such violent tendencies…

“I don’t know what’s been going on recently, but they’ve started to become rapidly more radical.”

“Ah…”

Come to think of it, he recalled seeing such an article in a daily newspaper in his past life. The actions of the Third Estate, showing an increasingly radical and violent side…

“To have even infiltrated the royal palace, this is no ordinary matter. No matter how many guests from the outside come to the ball, the state of the security is abysmal.”

“Either way, it won’t be easy to avoid humiliation on the front page of tomorrow morning’s daily papers.”

“There’s no telling how the royal family will react to the press. Enough, Serge. There’s no need to witness more of this mess. Let’s quickly find Gabriel and Leana and go back.”

Duke Arthur wrapped his arm around Serge’s shoulder, as if feeling intense anger and patheticness about the current situation. Then he commanded a royal attendant who was running about busily to find the wards he was protecting.

Overwhelmed by his father’s forcefulness, Serge only managed to exchange a glance with Raphael as a farewell before quickly returning home.

He had a strong premonition that things would be noisy starting from tomorrow.

⚭

“…on’t…!”

“…o. Father… did.”

In the ambiguous space between sleep and reality, he could hear a cute sound, like little birds chirping and whispering.

“…Still…”

“…No. It’s a…”

Even though he could hear some indescribably lovely whispers, Serge’s eyes just wouldn’t open.

And for good reason. After experiencing all that chaos at the royal ball last night and returning, Serge hadn’t been able to fall asleep until the faint light of dawn was breaking.

The sudden explosion, the group called the radicals who had clearly pushed their way into the royal palace, the sight of Raphael commanding the chaos, and the Crown Prince who hadn’t appeared until they left…

Various worries, tangled together in this shape and that, dominated Serge’s mind. Thanks to that, sleep had fled, and he had lain in bed for hours just worrying before finally falling asleep…

But now, not long after he had fallen asleep, whispers and the presence of people had appeared around him. One on the right, and one on the left.

“Hyung-ah! Hyung-ah, wake up.”

“Julien!”

“Hyung-ah, the sun is at the top of the sky now.”

The skin of a warm and slightly damp palm came to rest on Serge’s cheek. A small hand was caressing and waking its older brother.

“Hyung-ah isn’t waking up.”

“…Oppa must be very tired.”

“Maybe he’s dead…?”

“Hueh?”

Having reached their own strange conclusion, the twins let out a shrill scream. And immediately, the two little heads burrowed through the covers and buried themselves in the chest of the one lying in bed as if dead. Yvonne and Julien held their breath quietly, pressing their ears to Serge’s broad chest to listen for a heartbeat.

About 30 seconds passed?

“I-I can’t hear it! Th-th-the heartbeat! I can’t hear it! I think hyung-ah is really dead…!”

Julien, who had been pressing his ear to the right side of the chest, went pale in a fluster.

“I can hear it just fine, though?”

Yvonne’s eyes, who had been pressing her ear to the left side of the chest, grew wide.

“…Really?”

The heart is on the left… Serge thought in a daze. He had to wake up, he had to get up, but he was so tired that he just couldn’t break out of his half-asleep state.

A damp, small hand came up towards his face again.

“Hyung-ah, if you’re alive, open your eyes!”

Two fingers roughly and forcibly pried Serge’s eyelids up and down. The red mucous membrane inside his eye, where blood vessels were visible, was exposed.

“Ew. It’s gross!”

“Julien! What are you doing to oppa!”

There was even the sound of them smacking each other lightly. Serge, grimacing as his forcibly opened eyelids were drying out, finally managed to get his voice out.

“Eve… Juju…”

As he called their nicknames, the siblings answered, overjoyed.

“Hyung-ah!”

“Oppa!”

Knowing that Serge was awake, the twin siblings boldly burrowed under the covers and snuggled under his armpits on both sides. And, as they always did, they amicably shared Serge’s arms, one for each to use as a pillow, and began to caress his face.

“Why didn’t you wake up for so long? Are you very sleepy?”

“You must have stayed up late studying again yesterday, right, oppa?”

Serge soothed his younger siblings, kissing the tops of the twins’ heads on both sides.

“I went to bed a little late yesterday…”

“Oppa has been so busy lately, so Eve is a little sad…”

“I haven’t even taken out the telescope Father bought for me because I wanted to look at it with hyung-ah…! You promised to go to the bell tower with it with me, hyung-ah.”

Overcome with guilt, Serge patted his siblings’ backs.

“I’m sorry. I’ll really make a lot of time now.”

“We’ll go horseback riding together too.”

“And go on a picnic.”

“Yes, yes.”

Julien and Yvonne chattered away, ceaselessly tousling and stroking Serge’s unwashed face and hair. His skin was stretched unappealingly here and there by their small fingers kneading him without restraint, but Serge found the siblings caressing him like that to be endlessly lovely. My poor younger siblings, hungry for affection and love… Serge felt so sad for and fond of the twins that he hugged them tightly for a long while and peppered kisses on both sides equally.

They were children who pretended to be dignified gentlemen and ladies when outside, but the way they clung to their only older brother like this made him feel sorry for them, as if it was because they grew up without a mother. He was the only one who had grown up feeling the gentle touch of the Duchess. That was why his heart ached even more.

This period wouldn’t last much longer either. Soon they would grow up quickly and no longer beg to be held. Serge wanted to share with his younger siblings the love he had received from his mother during his own childhood.

A tender and affectionate voice came out naturally.

“Mon amour, mon bébé.[2] Did you eat breakfast?”

“Of course! It’s almost time for lunch!”

“Father called for us to have a meal together.”

“That’s right. We came to find hyung-ah because of that.”

“We said we would bring oppa.”

No wonder… The Arthur Ducal family lived in a mansion as vast as a palace, and were usually so busy with their individual schedules that they spent the day apart. So when he saw the children coming personally to wake him up, he had wondered what the occasion was… It seemed the Duke had arranged for a mealtime with his children.

Knock, knock.

“Goodness, my lady! My young masters!”

Mrs. Suzanne Roland, who opened the door right away as if the knock was just a formality, let out a sound of astonishment seeing the three Arthur siblings still floundering on the bed.

“I was wondering why you weren’t coming out after going in to wake him!”

Mrs. Roland, who entered with the hem of her usual simple dress fluttering, pulled a cord with a familiar touch and drew back the window curtains.

“Master Serge, please wash your face and get ready quickly! The Duke is waiting.”

“Ugh…”

Serge, still rubbing his face steeped in fatigue, forced himself to sit up.

“My lady and young master, please go down first. Marie will guide you to where the Duke is.”

At Mrs. Roland’s urging, the twins bid Serge a cheerful farewell, saying, “Hurry down, oppa!” and “We’ll go ahead and wait!” Serge waved back to his younger siblings and dipped his hands into the porcelain basin Mrs. Roland was pouring water into.

“The clothes you’ll wear today are hung over there.”

Mrs. Roland said as she handed him a soft-textured towel after he had washed his face.

“Thank you, Suzanne. By any chance, is there any news or rumors heard from the servants lately?”

It was just yesterday that the unsettling event had happened at the royal palace.

To properly know what kind of rumors were spreading through society and in what way, it was most accurate to hear the stories passed through the mouths of the maids and servants working in the mansion. One could learn to what extent and how the situation was known from a different perspective than that of the nobles, and one could also hear more raw rumors. It was like hearing the story from the perspective of the common people who made up the majority of society.

Unlike other nobles, Serge was curious about and valued such things, and for him, Mrs. Roland was the most excellent source of information. She was someone on his side whom he could trust completely, one who never exaggerated or fabricated stories.

“I spent a while in the kitchen to give advice on the dishes for today’s lunch, and I haven’t heard anything in particular yet.”

At his nanny’s words, Serge recalled what his father had said on their way back from the ball last night.

<The royal family will probably try to silence this to keep it from spreading.>

Serge had nodded at those words. It had always been the case for the current royal family to exert some pressure on the press. Even if the royal family couldn’t stop small newspaper companies or minor flyers distributed by private citizens, the major newspapers were different. This was an era long before the right to freedom of the press was established, and it was nothing new for the major newspapers to be mindful of the royal family’s opinion.

It seemed that, just as Duke Arthur had said, an embargo had been placed on last night’s terrorist attack.

And it was still too early for rumors to spread behind the scenes while things were being hushed up.

“I see…”

“Oh!”

As if remembering something, Mrs. Roland slapped her knee.

“You know that thing you ordered last time, my lord? About Camille, the stableman’s son.”

“Ah…!”

Camille, who had been in an accident during Serge’s birthday ball. He had ordered for him to be treated personally by the Arthur Ducal family’s physician.

“Yes. What happened to Camille?”

A lot of time had passed since then.

Serge desperately wanted to find out if he could defy such injuries or deaths from his past life, that is, from the fixed facts of the past. Of course, he had also wanted to help Camille, who had always done his best to smile and treat even his very naive young master self well.

Filled with curiosity, Serge’s face turned serious as he looked at Mrs. Roland.

“I heard that the child has almost fully recovered, thanks to you helping him just in time, my lord. The stableman, Antonio, was beaming. He asked me to tell you that he is truly grateful to you, Master Serge.”

Mrs. Roland said with a pleased face.