I Am the Hero's Immature Younger Brother

Coco curled the hand she had reached out with back into a fist. She could feel the eyes focused on her. The gazes varied. Curiosity. Sympathy. And among them, one emotion so strong it made her body tremble—

Hostility.

Lady Kelberg’s eyes narrowed. She would change her attitude depending on Coco’s response. Countless possibilities were probably already running through that woman’s mind. She was smarter than she looked. Coco suddenly felt herself coming sharply back to her senses.

Of all the people gathered at the funeral, how many had come purely to mourn the duke’s death?

More than that, they had come to see for themselves. To see who would lead the ducal house now.

The reason the nobles had merely watched Lady Kelberg’s rampage was because they wanted this.

Coco steadied her emotions. A lightning storm of rage was tearing through her, and she felt unbearably sorry toward Ren, but there was no helping it now. That man was right. She had to introduce him first.

“I have committed a discourtesy. King’s Fourth Star.”

Coco bent her knees and bowed. Her low, heavy voice rang out. It was an elegant greeting, enough to make people forget the scene from moments earlier. Straightening again, she swept her eyes across the nobles’ faces. As the nobles quieted under her gaze and focused on her, Coco signaled subtly to Hugh.

“This way...”

Hugh whispered softly and carefully took hold of Ren’s frozen hand. Ren’s group allowed Hugh to guide them away.

“The royal palace has sent someone to mourn my father’s death.”

Coco introduced Giselle. Dressed entirely in black, Giselle stepped forward from behind her. He was a man with striking looks, great height, and an unusual presence. Giselle conveyed the royal palace’s condolences and offered Coco a courteous bow.

“So this is the famous man who controls King Ragniel? Well, beautiful people do tend to make others listen to them. Ah, though if my joke was too rude, I apologize. I’m merely an ignorant woman and know very little about entertaining distinguished guests. I’m only someone’s mother and wife, after all.”

Lady Kelberg cut in with a gentle voice. Though her words lowered herself, faint contempt and curiosity toward Giselle showed clearly beneath them.

“My lady. You would do well to mind your words. He is from the royal palace.”

“Oh my. Then I have spoken improperly. Whatever shall I do? Embroidery is the only thing I was educated in, you see.”

Giselle did not even bother replying to Lady Kelberg. No matter that he was one of the Heroes, to someone like her he was merely a child. Lady Kelberg smiled with deep satisfaction.

But that smile vanished completely the moment their eyes met.

She had never seen eyes that cold before.

Coco guided him to the seat of honor.

“What is it, my lady?”

A young woman who had only been watching from the rear approached Lady Kelberg, who stood rigidly still. But the lady did not answer, her face hardened stiff.

***

“Ren. If you are not feeling well, you may go inside and rest.”

They were standing in a small space behind the garden where the funeral would be held. The entrance was hidden behind rose vines, making it impossible for first-time visitors to find.

“No. I’m fine.”

“You’re going to bruise. I’ll put medicine on it.”

Jepeto dug through his belongings with a deep frown. Something cold touched Ren’s wrist.

“Old man, are you okay? You’re not hurt?”

“I’m perfectly fine, you brat. Do you think I’ve gone my whole life without seeing women like that?”

The old apothecary gently stroked Ren’s head.

“And Hugh... Jepeto, please treat Hugh’s injuries too.”

Jepeto nodded. The dried bloodstains bothered him. Hugh, who looked as if he would refuse and insist he was fine, obediently offered his face instead. Whether the medicine was cold or the wounds stung, Hugh furrowed his brows. He hesitated as though he wanted to say something, but in the end he said nothing.

“Do you think Coco moved our seats to the back?”

“She probably left them as they were.”

“Would it be all right if I didn’t attend?”

“Ren.”

“If it won’t cause trouble, I’d rather do that. It’s the day Coco sends off her father. I don’t want to create a scene.”

“The one who caused the scene wasn’t you, Ren, it was that woman—!”

Jepeto shouted angrily with narrowed eyes, then shut his mouth. None of them failed to understand that.

“If this is too difficult for you, you do not have to remain. But please understand this much. Ren caused absolutely no trouble. Lady Coco does not regret the seating arrangement in the slightest. She believes Ren is the very person who can sincerely comfort the duke.”

Hugh’s eyes darkened deeply. Ren felt as though he understood what Hugh was thinking. The lingering image of a young boy passed through both their minds.

“Let’s go back.”

“Ren, just stay here...”

Jepeto had once again realized just how unreasonable and vicious nobles could be. He did not want to go back. But seeing Ren had already made up his mind, he could not stop him. He looked pleadingly toward Veron, but Veron appeared unconcerned with Ren’s decision.

With a quiet word of thanks, Hugh guided them back toward the garden.

***

“....”

The funeral had just begun.

Grand music filled the air, and several women already began to cry beneath the crushingly heavy atmosphere. Coco, lifting the black veil from her face, squeezed Ren’s hand tightly before letting go. She said nothing, but Ren knew she was worried about him. In response, he gripped her hand tightly as well before releasing it.

Praise exalting Duke Gannion’s reputation in life, his achievements, and poems honoring him were read slowly aloud.

Several people of high rank came forward personally to speak as well. Giselle was one of them. Making it clear that he had come representing the royal palace, he presented a jeweled box in the name of mourning Duke Gannion. Finishing his greeting with a face more like a priest’s than a Hero’s, Giselle returned to his seat.

“The priest’s blessing will now begin.”

Duke Gannion’s funeral proceeded meticulously according to custom. Dressed in pure white priestly robes adorned with gold patterns, his long hair hanging loose, Kirky slowly approached wearing all manner of golden and silver ornaments. Since this was the first time Ren had ever seen Kirky with such a solemn expression, he nearly failed to recognize him. Their eyes seemed to meet briefly, but Kirky passed by without showing any reaction at all.

“Enox Chervaco.”

Kirky, the only one dressed in white, spoke the name of the owner of today’s blessing.

A string of words that sounded almost like a spell at first hearing.

Strangely enough, Ren felt as though he could somehow understand the language, despite never having learned it.

A faint light spread from Kirky’s body as he recited the blessing. Those of deep faith welled with tears at the holy sight.

At last, the blessing ended, and the attendants opened the coffin lid.

“Thank you all for honoring this occasion with your presence. If my father had seen this, he would have been pleased.”

After offering a brief expression of gratitude, Coco gave a short explanation of the duke’s character and accomplishments before thanking the commoners standing in the rear as well. The solemn atmosphere stirred slightly at her words.

Gathering up the long hem of her dress, Coco approached the coffin first. From among the mound of flowers piled there, she selected a single bloom.

“May you rest peacefully.”

With an unreadable face, Coco placed the flower inside the coffin. Even looking upon her father’s stiff, frozen corpse, she showed no surprise.

Then Coco turned around. The black hem of her skirt spread softly around her.

The final farewell began.

Starting from those seated in the front, people slowly approached and laid down flowers one by one. The scent of flowers drifted heavily on the wind.

Ren’s turn drew near. Careful not to limp, he walked slowly forward. Bending down, he carefully picked up a flower and approached the coffin. Even the soft grass beneath his feet felt unfamiliar. Countless gazes stabbed into the back of his head. The persistent feeling of being watched clung to him, and he felt as though Lady Kelberg would be there if he turned around.

His heart beat slowly and heavily.

He suddenly felt as though he never wanted to send away another dead person again.

Ren stopped before the coffin. Pure white flowers had piled over the duke like snow.

This time, he did not know what he should say.

Unlike Shawn’s death, no one here openly displayed grief. The nobles recited elegant blessings instead. Ren could imitate the words, but he did not understand their meaning.

‘Wouldn’t it be better for Coco’s reputation if I at least copied them clumsily?’

With his head lowered, Ren glanced sideways. Coco was staring straight ahead. She looked like a doll, without sorrow or joy.

No.

If appearances were all Coco cared about, she would never have invited Ren, a commoner, along with Jepeto and Veron, who were Ren’s friends. He could not answer Coco’s sincerity with awkward pretenses.

A grand and solemn funeral.

An elegant, severe ceremony where not a single cry of mourning rang out.

A noble’s funeral where flawless procedure and sacred prayers took the place of tears.

Even Coco was not crying, though she had once said she had no one she could truly call family.

But there was no way that gentle girl had felt absolutely nothing toward her own father. If Coco had truly hated Duke Gannion, if he had only been some terrible noble from a world beyond understanding, then she would never have invited Ren here.

What feelings Coco had toward Duke Gannion.

What Duke Gannion had been to Coco.

Ren could not dare guess.

But whether shallow or deep, there must have been some kind of love between family.

If that was true, then what should he say to him?