His steps were painfully slow, his head throbbing. The family's conversation had left Mikhael even more dizzy.Time and again, Mikhael turned toward the window, hoping the light of the sky would soon be pushed away by darkness.The walk to his room in the fourth wing felt unbearably long. For a moment, he considered visiting the garden to lighten the weight on his mind.
From a distance, he saw Branley tending the plants peacefully, and Mikhael intended to approach him.As he took a few steps forward, he noticed something different in Branley's face—there was a hint of unease.Branley became aware of Mikhael's presence beside him. His expression quickly returned to normal, but an uncomfortable feeling lingered in Mikhael's chest.
"Good morning, young master. Ha—""How long have you been working here, Branley?" Mikhael interrupted before Branley could finish his sentence.
Branley fell silent, smiling faintly as he picked up the shovel beside him and dug into the soil."Is that really so important to you, young master…?" Branley planted a new seed and covered it with earth."You all keep so many secrets…"
Branley continued his work without answering."Don't I deserve a bit of peace…?" Mikhael's brow furrowed."Please, return to your rest, young master…""Branley… I don't want to hide forever… but if things continue like this, in the end, it will all be for nothing."
Mikhael turned away, leaving Branley with his hands still pressed into the soil.Branley's chest ached.
Now Mikhael stood before his mother's chamber door.He lowered his head for a moment, exhaling softly, then pushed the door open gently—his fingers brushing through the cold air with every movement, each of his steps never making a sound.Right beside his mother's bed, Marianne was already there.
"Marianne? Why are you here?" Mikhael asked.
Marianne turned, tidying the medicines laid out before her."I was worried you might spend a long time in the library, so I came here to give Lady Lucien her medicine," Marianne's voice was full of sincerity."Ah… thank you, once again."
Marianne bowed her head to Mikhael, then walked out of the room carrying a tray filled with medicines.
Beside his mother's bed stood a brown chair adorned with golden roots and diamonds along its edges. Mikhael pulled the chair closer and sat down upon it.
His diamond-like eyes fixed on a withering rose. With each passing day, Lucien's body grew thinner. Her skin grew even paler. Mikhael reached for his mother's hand.He felt the frailty in her fingers. His jaw tightened, tears threatened to fall, and a deep ache filled his chest.
"Why… why must this rose be the one to suffer?" his voice was hoarse.Mikhael lowered his head, his face contorting. "If only there were a clue… Mother wouldn't have to suffer like this." His jaw tightened again.
Mikhael rose from his seat. The room's light was far too dim. He walked toward the window and pulled the curtains wide open.The light quickly flooded into his mother's chamber, casting its glow on a patch of uneven floor.
Mikhael's attention locked onto that spot. He approached, crouching down to feel it. "It's solid."He searched for a gap to open it, running his fingers along the floor.Found it! A slightly loose spot along the edge of the tile made it easy to lift. He opened it slowly.
Inside, thick layers of cloth wrapped around something. He took the fabric into his hands, brushing along its edges—it was slightly dusty. His curiosity swelled higher. He carefully unwrapped the layers of cloth
There was a stack of papers, their ink slightly smudged."What are these sheets? Was it Mother who kept them here?"Mikhael took one of the pages, its edges already worn and frayed.
THUD!Mikhael staggered back, releasing the paper from his grip.His face went pale, his gaze turned blank, and his heart pounded violently. Shock consumed him.
"N-no way… could it be…"His voice trembled after seeing the paper. He hadn't even read it yet, but he already recognized the inked illustration upon it.
Something forbidden to the weak, yet dangerous even to the strong. Only certain individuals could obtain it. But it was nothing more than a far-fetched tale—its belief erased, buried deep within oblivion. Mikhael was not merely a man burdened with a fragile destiny. His hope and fate bore two opposing sides. The soul of a despairing Mikhael was now permitted to receive the "God's Testament."