As she approached the window, she gently touched the glass of the window. Beyond that, the lake spread out. Opposite the bank, houses lined up with unified blue rooftops. The ridgeline of the mountain melted in the clear, bright sky. It was a calm and beautiful scene, just like a painting.
It was as brilliant as his home country, Serrat. “I have read in ancient scrolls that the life and death of a person are related to the phases of the moon. There are many similar folklores not only in Armenia but also in the world.”
A pale white moon, which stood out in the night, floated in the sky. It magnified opal, left behind by the other stones in the sky. Perhaps she was looking at it, not the scenery.
♔♔♔
“Some scholars pay attention to the ebb and flow of the tide, but it’s also a phenomenon caused by the moon.”
“I’m sceptical of that theory. There is no basis for linking human life and death to the moon. I think it’s foolish to believe in things that can’t be proved.”
“That’s true,” Alana said.
“If possible, I want the day I die to be the new moon. That’s what I hope.”
Luciano looked at her profile. A petite chin and small lips. Her nose was neither low nor high. She had eyes that gave a glint of cheekiness, even though she lacked courage. The long lashes on the edges of her eyes formed an arc upward. Although vague, those features were the lost pieces of the Serrat royal family. Of his late grandmother, his late sister, and his late father. Queen Alana was the daughter of his father’s cousin. She certainly had the blood of Serrat.
── Damn. More than that…
He quickly turned away, but he regretted it. He came to find out what Alana really meant, but he found something he shouldn’t have. She resembled his mother, who was the queen, but she had little paternal characteristics. In other words, to erase her was to erase the last vestiges of Serrat. However, there was no other choice than to erase.
“Emilio, could you grant my wish?”
“Okay,” Luciano replied bluntly, looking up at the first quarter moon in front of her eyes.
♔♔♔
There were people in this world who could handle anything. Once they began something, they could achieve better results than all those who preceded them—a person who seemed to have been born, destined to be excellent. Luciano was one of those blessed people. If he started training with a sword, he would be stronger than a professional knight, and if he handled a horse, he would be as good as a master. It didn’t change even if he studied. People treated him as a marvellous child prodigy – a genius, but Luciano himself had never felt that way. He wasn’t happy with the status quo. He couldn’t forgive what he couldn’t do because he was confident in doing everything.
A perfectionist, he always had a sword in his hand, and he spent less than three hours sleeping to spare time to study. He began to grow significantly tall from the age of twelve. Since then, he was extremely popular with women because he was envied for his good looks, literary and martial arts.
However, until the age of sixteen, he had never played with women when the country was destroyed. He was a serious and conscientious man who had no choice but to think about the future of the country and succeed in his father’s footsteps.
“Brother is sly.” That was a phrase often said by Mileia.
She was his younger sister, four years younger, from the same father and mother. Luciano was only gentle whenever it came to his family. He was naturally vigilant and exclusive. When Mileia sat next to the chaise lounge he was sitting on, Luciano, who was reading his book, smiled and said, ”You’re being sly again.”
”Yep, I am. My brother is sly, and you look beautiful like Mother. Besides, I can do anything. I also want to be as popular as my brother.”
He frowned unintentionally. Just a while ago, he was invited by a girl whose bosom was toppling over. The day before yesterday, he was tempted by a naked girl. It had become more and more frequent since the engagement was decided. They just wanted to entangle with the next king and become queen through establishing these ‘acts’.
“It’s better not to be popular.”
“Why?”
Luciano clicked his tongue, thinking of his sister being pressed by a man who exposed his genitals.
“No matter what. Appearances can’t be helped because they depend on each person’s taste. But it’s another thing to say I can do anything. I’m just learning what I can’t do every day.”
“Rather, the list is full of things that can’t be done. I’m too immature to succeed in Father’s footsteps.”
While talking, he stared at his sister, who had just turned twelve years old. Luciano began to be seduced by women when he was twelve years old. Mileia was about to begin. He didn’t want to show his innocent sister the dirtiness of the world.