The Mansion Awaits Spring - Chapter 201

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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 201
Pejin answered the proposal to end the meeting, then rapped the table toward the people who remained stubbornly seated in their chairs.
“I said we’re done. Get going.”
Only after hearing his words did the meeting attendees scramble to their feet and file out.
The moment the meeting ended, Pejin took April’s hand and pulled her up. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“The rest is the ship’s work. We’ve nothing to do but wait.”
“Nothing?”
April rose and followed Pejin, continuing as they walked. “Miller’s rejected far too many proposals. If I’m going to review them—”
“Yes, yes, I understand. Do whatever you like.”
“Is that what you call listening? Shouldn’t you at least read them?”
“You wouldn’t do anything that harms the Grand Duchy. To begin with, if the Head of the Lunos Family had been at that meeting from the start, we’d have solved most of these problems easily. Instead, everything dragged on.”
“You’re remarkable. How are you wielding power so freely the moment you become Grand Duke? Did you plan for this?”
“I understand what takes priority in the Grand Duchy, so I’m just cutting the time short.”
At Pejin’s smooth deflection, April’s expression grew complicated. She had a staff member fetch the documents from the Lunos Residence, and after dispatching them, Pejin led her to a small study where the two had often played together in childhood.
The Small Study was called that partly because it housed books suited for children, but also because small nooks had been built throughout for the children to play hide-and-seek.
Only after entering the Small Study did April finally set down some of the tension she’d been carrying.
She reached out and tapped the mobile spinning lazily above her head. “It hasn’t changed. Just like when we were little.”
“Right, I haven’t changed anything. The younger ones love it.”
Pejin said this, then hesitated. But as if deliberately pushing the moment away, he smiled and spoke. “Let’s rest for a bit. There won’t be much time to spare after this.”
“Worried about your nieces and nephews?”
“Not worried so much as… I’ve watched them since they were born. I came back to Right Island when each of them was born. Especially the first one. When Joshua was born…” He trailed off. “I was happy then.”
At that time, the child had resembled the two people he loved most.
Until then, it had seemed the only family he had was his brother. But when his nephew was born, that world changed.
He still vividly remembered the terror of holding his nephew for the first time. Even though he held the child so firmly, he’d been terrified of accidentally hurting Joshua.
Pejin pushed down such thoughts and spoke to April. “Besides, when I severed ties with my brother, I became a stranger to the children anyway.”
April looked up at him.
Sensing her gaze, he blew sharply at the mobile at eye level, sending it spinning away—then ducked as it came back toward him, only to bump into another mobile beside him. “Ugh, why is everything hung so low?”
The result was exactly what Pejin had wanted: April’s laughter burst forth.
“It’s a children’s space. The ceiling’s low to begin with.”
“Right, it’s my fault for walking in as an adult…”
As he said this and moved forward, the mobiles kept tapping his head. Pretending not to notice April’s suppressed laughter, he headed for her favorite place.
Due to the building’s angular structure, a corner wall formed a diagonal, where a round sofa-bed sat beneath the Grand Duke’s Residence’s largest window.
The bed was large enough for two people to lie down with room to spare, and cushions and blankets were always neatly arranged there.
Pejin spread out a blanket and jerked his head toward the bed. “Lie down.”
“Every time you see me, you just want to sleep—”
“No, I’m not sleeping. We’re just going to look at the constellations.”
He said this with mock exasperation and pulled a Constellation Book from the nearby shelf.
April lay down on the bed, and Pejin placed the book between them before draping the blanket properly over them both.
The two lay facing each other as ornate candlestands flickered around them.
When their eyes met, April began laughing again, and Pejin complained. “You’re laughing about the mobile, aren’t you? About me getting hit in the head.”
“Yeah. You should have bent over.”
“It’s not dignified.”
“Neither was crashing into the mobile over and over.”
As April continued laughing, Pejin finally laughed too.
He understood that she laughed so easily and so much to soothe his bitterness.
“It works.”
April stopped laughing a little and asked, “What works?”
“Your laughter. When you laugh, I can’t think about anything. This is enough.”
“…”
“Really.”
“…Even if you have to say goodbye to your family?”
“You’ve already done it. Compared to you, it’s nothing. I parted badly with my brother anyway.”
Pejin said this, then buried his face in her chest. “Remember? When our parents died, you comforted me right here.”
“I only remember you crying terribly. So this was where it happened.”
April absently stroked his hair as she spoke.
“Did I comfort you well? That doesn’t sound like my nature.”
“No. You were just… consistent. ‘Stop crying. That’s enough. Stop crying, I told you!'”
When Pejin mimicked April’s tone from childhood, she made a face. “What? That’s not comforting at all.”
“It was, though. Everyone at the Grand Duke’s Residence couldn’t say a word to me. They just let me cry and did everything I asked. But only you were cold about it.”
“When you cried, what did I say?”
“Yeah, that you’d stop crying and get up. That your parents would be unhappy, or something like that?”
“Your personality really is rather terrible.”
“But you stayed anyway. Everyone else found me noisy and left, but you—even though you said I was being loud—you never went anywhere.”
So saying, he pressed on with the memory. “And then… in the middle of all that crying, we both fell asleep. And then the adults came and woke us up, telling us to look at the Meteor Shower.”
They stirred in a daze as they sat on the bed, gazing out at the Meteor Shower pouring across the night sky beyond the window.
April suddenly covered her mouth with both hands as the memory returned to her. “How could I have forgotten that? Such a brilliant Meteor Shower.”
“I was afraid you’d worked so hard to forget your memories that you’d actually succeeded. I was terrified you might forget that night too.”
“You were trying to erase the memory…”
“That’s why. Your ability means if you try hard enough, it actually happens. I was so frightened you’d truly forget, even I might lose it.”
Pejin turned his body toward the window, sighing.
The night sky tonight was clear. Stars crowded the window pane as if about to spill through.
Pejin murmured, “Come to think of it, you don’t see this many stars in Rasa. Too much smoke from the factories. Right Island has at least one advantage.”
“If we shut down the factories in Rasa, they’d see stars just as well. It’s not unique to us.”
“We can sometimes see the Aurora here, though.”
“They can’t see the Aurora in Rasa?”
“Not once in all the years I lived there.”
“That’s unfortunate. It’s fun when you see it sometimes.”
“The people there probably have to travel to see an Aurora.”
“Why would they bother?”
April said this with a look of complete incomprehension, and Pejin shrugged back equally mystified.
As they counted the stars, April asked, “When the Meteor Shower fell, what wish did you make? We made wishes back then.”
“I don’t remember that far—we were half-asleep. Wait, didn’t we write them down somewhere?”
Pejin rose and examined the bookshelf holding constellation books, then pulled down a volume about meteor showers.
It was a thick book with only text, too advanced for children. The study was well-maintained, so there was no dust, but anyone could see the spine had barely been opened.
Pejin brought the book to the bed. “We tucked our wishes inside here.”
“Right. I remember Uncle Jeff suggesting we do that. He really is the rare sentimental one in our family.”
“‘Rare’? You mean ‘the only one.'”
“Well… there’s no one else in our house who would suggest tucking wishes into a book.”
April conceded willingly.
The memory of her uncle’s voice returned to her—bending to the children’s eye level, speaking in that gentle tone.
“You know, grown-ups cherish the fragments of happy memories from childhood. So if you write your wishes and tuck them away, you’ll be so happy when you find them later.”
Jeff Lunos had been right.
When they found the wish papers tucked between the pages, both their hearts quickened before they even unfolded them.
Each unfolded their own wish paper privately, then both tilted their heads in bewilderment.
When they realized the other was in the same state, they asked accusingly.
“Pejin, what does yours say?”
“Well, finding it was my idea anyway. Show me yours first.”
“What kind of logic is that? I’m more curious. Hand it over.”
“How could you possibly—wow, look at that arbitrary behavior. You’re really just like that.”
Pejin shook his head as he watched April snatch the paper right out of his hands.
April unfolded the note and checked its contents. And she burst out laughing despite herself.
[Please make April Lunos kind. Let us stop fighting. We fight every day. But it’s mostly her fault! I mess up sometimes too. But April messed up more! Still, please don’t punish her. Just make her kind.]

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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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