My Youngest Keeps Bringing Home Male Leads - Chapter 62

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 62
“So in the end, there’s no way to know what really happened.”
If he set his mind to it, he could use Magic to probe the thoughts of someone called a Cripple.
‘But Agnes would never allow it.’
And if she learned that the memories of someone subjected to such Magic could never be recovered, she would be horrified.
‘She asked me to protect her, yet all I can offer is something as trivial as a child’s game.’
The Magical Artifact Kesenor had been crafting until just moments ago possessed power enough to topple fortress walls.
What was more, every commission he’d received of late was designed solely to harm others.
He couldn’t know where or how they’d be used, but ultimately they would find their way into someone’s wound.
He possessed the ability to do anything for the sake of his purpose, yet on the other hand, he also had to protect her world—the peace she’d only barely won.
Kesenor suppressed the urge rising in his chest and tapped her shoulder.
“Let us search for answers together when dawn breaks tomorrow.”
“Yes, thank you. My lord.”
“Since the other party is Silmare, nothing untoward should occur. Rather, he’ll likely greet you in perfect health with open arms.”
“Perhaps he’ll be quite startled?”
The way she spoke those words while brightening was like a flower in full bloom.
‘Unpleasant.’
In his honest heart, he had no desire to go at all.
‘If I face Silmare, he’ll only pick some pointless quarrel again.’
And there was also the possibility that Agnes, like when they first met, would lose herself once more in his beauty.
The excessively large and crude giant and the dark elf who behaved like a child didn’t feel like rivals, but Silmare was different.
He was deeply devoted to Agnes, and his appearance was far too handsome.
Unlike the other two, he didn’t display hostility openly.
He spoke unpleasant things in a smooth, easygoing manner, but in hindsight, that was all the more offensive.
Somehow his breath had grown tight, so Kesenor stepped closer to her.
Her pale green eyes widened in surprise.
Staring intently at them, Kesenor gently brushed a strand of her hair with his fingertips.
“You have some dust in your hair.”
“Really? It must have gotten caught when I went out earlier.”
Even by his own estimation, it was such a childish ploy that he couldn’t even laugh at himself.
Yet the innocent girl’s cheeks flushed crimson.
Watching her, Kesenor spoke his lie with composure.
“On second thought, I believe it’s a flower petal, not dust. Don’t concern yourself with it.”
Agnes was about to offer her thanks when she suddenly realized how close she stood to Kesenor.
Just as she began to step back, Kesenor caught her wrist.
Yet Agnes showed no alarm, and broke into a bright smile.
“What are you trying to say now?”
“What would I try to say?”
“Should I take a guess? Why haven’t you visited recently—that you’ve been terribly lonely? Or that you’ve helped me so much, when will you collect your fee? That I’m falling short of expectations? Something like that, perhaps?”
Kesenor let out a low cough. At the sight of it, Agnes laughed with delight.
“Of course, the reason I can guess so easily is that I’ve actually been quite worried about you.”
“About me?”
“Yes, of course. The other two treated you so aggressively that you must have felt terribly uncomfortable, and on top of that, I’m ashamed to say I spoke out of turn to you.”
“True. I was hurt. Moreover, didn’t you think of me as some sort of ruffian?”
“No? I never said such a thing!”
“You said it through Rupert.”
“That’s not fair! That was just Rupert’s guess!”
“Are you certain?”
At that, Agnes clamped her lips shut.
Beneath eyes full of confusion, her cheeks flushed crimson.
It meant she’d at least entertained similar thoughts.
It felt like taking a blow twice when once would have sufficed.
Kesenor grumbled petulantly.
“There. You see?”
“Even so! You treated a perfectly decent person like a beast. And used such vulgar language!”
“Did I use such language? Ah, you mean the word for a male creature?”
“Honestly……!”
The way her lips trembled over such a trivial word was somehow amusing.
When he laughed aloud, Agnes looked at him as if he were a strange person.
But soon she found herself laughing along with him.
Her face was bare of any makeup, guileless and open.
Skin so pale it seemed translucent, and even her lips were a faint rose.
Seeing that, something in his chest quickened.
It had been like this since she entered the room.
Unable to bear it any longer, Kesenor seized the hand he’d released moments before and drew her closer.
“Your Grace!”
Now she would narrow her eyes at his teasing but wouldn’t pull away—not like before.
Not like the old days, when she’d demanded an apology for the briefest contact.
So perhaps, whatever I say, she’ll stay here with me.
We’ve grown that close now.
If I approach as I always do, as though merely playing.
Right before her.
Only a span’s distance away, careful not to rest my hand on her lower back.
Kesenor whispered to her softly.
“If you had to choose right now.”
For a moment, it seemed her breath touched the edge of his chin.
Kesenor felt his own breathing quicken, shallow and urgent, and forced it to slow.
“Silmare, or me?”
It was as expected.
Agnes wore an expression of disbelief, yet she didn’t try to pull her hand from his grasp.
She only exhaled a long, drawn-out sigh, as though he’d said something absurd.
“Why are you curious about that?”
“Because Silmare is kind and gentle, unlike me. Rapitor and Ignitan would likely adore him as well.”
“Your Grace.”
Then Agnes’s eyes softened at the corners, and she gazed at him with something like pity.
“You’re hurt.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Well, you would be. When else has Your Grace ever been treated that way?”
She let out a breath, then smiled brightly up at him.
“I truly believe you’re a good person. I think you don’t deserve such treatment because of the wrongs of ancestors you never even knew.”
Her eyes sparkled like stars—not empty flattery, not mere courtesy, but genuine conviction.
“So don’t compare yourself to others. I like Silmare, and I like Your Grace very much too.”
Like.
The word was far too light.
The sort of thing one might say of a lovely flower, a delicious meal, or a friend one favored.
It fell short of what he wanted, but he understood he would have to settle for it, at least for now.
The warmth of her hand seeped into his palm.
Aware of it, Kesenor pressed his fingers between hers.
Soft sensation clung between his fingers.
Did bones truly exist in such delicate hands?
Savoring the malleable feel of her fingers, Kesenor slowly caressed the fullest, most tender part of her palm.
……!
Agnes’s shoulders drew up in a tight curl.
“It tickles……!”
Without noticing his own breath had grown ragged, Kesenor whispered in a fractured voice.
“And what of Rupert?”
Agnes was bewildered.
What was this sensation, anyway?
With mention of both Silmare and now Rupert, he was teasing her as he always did, testing her resolve.
Yet what occupied her mind wasn’t the question itself, but the thick bones beneath her skin and the cool temperature of his hand.
“Stop… please.”
Unable to bear the subtle tension skating across her skin, Agnes pleaded.
Only then did Kesenor withdraw his hand.
The air felt strangely hot.
Her flushed face forgotten, Agnes stared at him blankly.
Kesenor kept his gaze averted.
Struggling to calm her anxious breathing, Agnes whispered, her voice trembling.
“Rupert is my family. And he’s not a Seed.”
“Indeed.”
As though his curiosity had already waned, Kesenor bowed his head with an air of indifference.
“I think it best I take my leave now. I’ll need to prepare for tomorrow’s departure.”
It was abrupt, but Agnes offered her farewell gracefully and quickly withdrew from Kesenor’s quarters.
“Really, now……”
Standing alone in the corridor, she retraced the events one by one, and could only heave a deflated sigh.
No matter how she turned it over in her mind, it was clear that Kesenor was sulking over everything that had happened until now.
“As Aser said, he does have rather peculiar tendencies.”
Agnes sighed and made her way back to her room.
If she was to set out tomorrow in search of Silmare, she’d need to make her preparations in advance.
Meanwhile, in Amy’s chamber.
Rupert, who had been playing with Amy, closed his eyes for a long moment before exhaling slowly.
“Rupert?”
When Rupert gave no response to her play, Amy tilted her head in confusion.
“Ah, my apologies, Miss. I was lost in thought for a moment.”
“Come on, the prince has to enter now. Do it quickly.”
“Yes, Miss.”
As though compensating for what she could not do in childhood, Amy was delighted, playing happily with her toys.
Watching her, Rupert smiled slowly.
Only for a moment.
His gaze grew cold as he glanced at the firmly shut door, though only briefly—too quick for Amy to notice.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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