Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End Chapter 5: Drive It Into Your Head, This Is My Little Sister!
Previously on Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End...
Roel's mind suddenly drifted to a past recollection—Alicia, in her tender years, harbored a fear of knives.
More precisely, any sharp object capable of inflicting harm would send her into a state of panic.
As the old saying from Earth goes, 'Once bitten, twice shy.' This adage perfectly encapsulates an irrational terror towards specific items, frequently rooted in past traumatic encounters, commonly known as a phobia.
Phobias have the unsettling ability to induce overwhelming sensations of anxiety and dread under particular conditions. Even when an individual intellectually acknowledges the irrationality of these feelings, their physical being will instinctively recoil from similar situations, thereby impeding their daily existence.
The manifestations of phobias are diverse, yet Alicia's specific dread was centered around sharp implements.
As for the underlying cause... Roel could only surmise that those blessed with extraordinary talents often carry the burden of immense suffering as well.
With a profound sigh echoing in his heart, Roel began to revisit the narrative of Alicia's childhood as it had been presented.
All of Alicia's personal tragedies stemmed directly from her bloodline. Yes, the very same coveted Silver Bloodline that Roel himself admired, the Silverash Child.
In this world, bloodlines were far more intricate than they initially appeared. They were referred to as Sia's Gifts. Sia, the architect of this world, lent her name to the continent and served as the central deity of the Saint Mesit Theocracy. From this divine perspective, individuals possessing bloodlines were regarded as Children of God.
The term 'bloodline' itself was somewhat of a misnomer. The powers derived from these bloodlines were rarely passed down through direct inheritance. It was not uncommon for parents, both of whom possessed bloodlines, to conceive an entirely ordinary child. Conversely, bloodlines could also emerge spontaneously within the offspring of completely average families.
However, these bloodlines remained dormant and useless until they underwent an awakening, an event intrinsically linked to the concept of 'tier'.
Bloodlines could be categorized into four distinct tiers, with 'Gold' representing the pinnacle and 'Iron' signifying the base. Each successful awakening elevated an individual's bloodline tier by one level. Consequently, a bloodline possessor might require multiple awakenings to fully unlock their bloodline's ultimate potential.
To elaborate, individuals bearing a Silver Bloodline would need to awaken twice, while those with a Gold Bloodline would need to achieve three awakenings. The prevalence of bloodline possessors diminished dramatically with each ascending tier; Gold Bloodlines were so exceedingly rare that entire decades could pass within a nation without a single sighting.
Alicia had already experienced one awakening, placing her current bloodline tier at Bronze. Nevertheless, the abilities she had manifested were not highly regarded, and she faced a considerable amount of bullying as a result.
Her particular gift was rapid regeneration.
While this might sound unremarkable, the disconcerting spectacle of her flesh visibly knitting itself back together during recovery could instill unease in observers. Thus, it was hardly surprising how immature youths might react to such an ability.
This peculiar trait, coupled with her father's frequent absence and her inherent shyness, contributed to her unfortunate childhood. Moreover, a significant factor was the general underestimation of this young girl, who, apart from her striking looks, seemed unremarkable. No one predicted she would achieve another bloodline awakening, elevating her to the Silver tier and allowing her true potential to flourish.
As Roel pondered these complex matters, the silver-haired young lady seated opposite him was trembling, consumed by fear.
Gazing at the distorted reflections of human figures on the polished surface of the knife and the sharp glint of the fork's prongs, the young Alicia's mind was flooded with the agonizing memories of her past experiences.
It transpired during the princess's birthday festivities a year prior. Her wine-loving father, in a state of intoxication, had been unable to protect her. In that setting, several sons from count and viscount families had cornered her, brandishing knives and forks. Treating her as mere plaything for their cruel amusement, they ignored her desperate pleas and cruelly plunged their cutlery into her body. One particularly vicious youngster even attempted to stab his fork into her eye, morbidly curious about whether her regenerative abilities extended to her vision.
Fortuitously, an adult stumbled upon the children's heinous acts and intervened, scattering them. Had this not happened, Alicia might very well have lost her sanity in that terrifying encounter. Nonetheless, the harrowing incident left an indelible scar on her psyche, becoming the source of her most profound nightmares.
From that day forward, Alicia developed an intense aversion to sharp objects such as knives and forks. This fear extended not only to those held by others but also to any she encountered herself. Her father had once attempted to help her overcome this phobia, but his efforts proved entirely ineffectual.
Ever since that fateful event, Alicia exclusively utilized a spoon for her meals, a habit she maintained for the entirety of the past year. Having only arrived at the Ascart House a mere few hours ago, no one was yet aware of her inability to use knives and forks. Unfortunately, the day's main course was pan-seared lamb steak, a dish that intrinsically required the use of both knife and fork.
The delectable meals were arrayed upon the dining table, with servants positioned discreetly at the room's periphery. The instant the dark-haired boy grasped his silverware, the glint of the metal caused Alicia to flinch visibly. “Alicia, our Ascart House is renowned for its signature lamb steak. Pray, do sample it,” Roel addressed the visibly unnerved silver-haired girl, effectively sealing any path of escape she might have considered. His intention wasn't born from a desire to inflict suffering. Instead, he needed to first 'observe' Alicia's distress; without this, his ability to assist her would be compromised. This marked their second encounter, meaning Roel should have had no prior knowledge of her aversion to sharp utensils. Consequently, he needed to engineer a scenario where he could intervene. Alas, his words inadvertently fueled Alicia's already overactive imagination. She cast a timid, trembling glance at Roel, a suspicion forming in her mind. Could it be that Roel has prior knowledge of my phobia? While she lacked the means to confirm this suspicion, the noble circles were indeed small, particularly among the younger generation. It wasn't entirely beyond the realm of possibility that Roel had heard whispers of the 'enigmatic individual' known as Alicia. If that were the case, it would perfectly explain the sudden, formal luncheon. Furthermore, Roel had invoked the name of the Ascart House in his earlier remark, an action that essentially compelled Alicia to comply. When nobles invoked the name of their esteemed houses, it typically signified an intention to pressure the other party into agreement. Without the fortitude to risk offending them, the only viable recourse was acquiescence. To refuse Roel at this juncture would be a profound act of disrespect, potentially providing him with grounds to create future difficulties for her. The silver-haired maiden interlaced her fingers tightly beneath the table. I must not reveal my weakness, lest… what awaits me be an entirely new form of torment. With this thought consuming her, Alicia’s small, shaking hands slowly edged towards the fork and knife laid out before her. Her delicate features had turned a sickly pale, and tears welled in her eyes. She bit her lip fiercely, suppressing the urge to cry out. Across the expanse of the dining table, Roel’s eyes widened at the sight of Alicia reaching for the utensils. What is this? Why is she reaching for those implements? Could it be that the Alicia of this timeline does not yet possess a phobia of sharp objects? No, that can't be right! She hasn't actually grasped them yet. Her hands are visibly trembling! Observing Alicia’s desperate struggle to overcome her fear, her hands shaking as she fought back tears while attempting to grasp the cutlery, Roel felt an unexpected pang of distress. Unable to bear the sight any longer, he swiftly intervened. “Wait a moment. Alicia is merely seven years old; manipulating a knife and fork might prove cumbersome for her... Anna.” “Young Master, what are your commands?” “Relocate my seat to Alicia’s side.” “As you command, Young Master.” The maids promptly rearranged Roel’s meal and place settings. Alicia could only watch in stunned silence as the dark-haired boy circumnavigated the dining table to take the seat directly beside her. He then gently slid her plate of lamb steak nearer to himself. “L-Lord Brother?” “Since you are not yet adept with knives and forks, allow me to assist you by portioning your lamb steak.” As Roel prepared to pick up his own utensils and begin cutting the steak, Anna suddenly stepped forward from behind, offering a slight bow. “Young Master, kindly permit us to handle such matters.” “There is no need. Alicia is my younger sister. I shall attend to her myself.” “…I understand, Young Master.” Anna appeared momentarily surprised by his declaration, her gaze lingering on the young boy as if contemplating his words before she quietly retreated to her position at the room’s edge. Roel’s statement could be interpreted as a public affirmation to all the servants present, or perhaps, a stern warning might be a more fitting description. It was inconceivable that none of them had observed Alicia’s inability to handle her cutlery, yet not a single one had stepped forward to offer assistance, such as, ‘Miss, allow me to do that for you.’ Instead, they collectively chose to be oblivious. Had the situation been reversed, with Roel in her stead, someone would have undoubtedly come forward to offer their service long before this moment. This indifference wasn't solely a matter of minor oversight. More significantly, it underscored the minimal regard these servants held for Alicia, an adopted daughter of the esteemed Ascart House.The social standing of a servant was intrinsically linked to the noble house they served. The retainers of the Ascart House, having witnessed countless high-ranking nobles over their years of service, did not consider the daughter of a mere baron's lineage a matter of great importance.
By officially recognizing Alicia as his adopted younger sister, Roel ensured the servants would henceforth treat her as a genuine member of the Ascart Family, one of their esteemed masters. Any servant who dared to show disrespect towards Alicia would be seen as challenging Roel's own authority.
Although Roel had successfully conveyed his intentions, a pang of regret soon followed as his arms began to ache.
'Tsk! Why do these utensils feel so heavy? Is this truly the limit of a 9-year-old's strength? How can I be defeated by a simple lamb steak? After all I've declared, it would be utterly humiliating if I can't even manage this myself!'
“My Lord Brother, perhaps we should have someone else assist...”
“No. I can manage it.”
Refusing to acknowledge his own weakness, a stubborn resolve ignited within Roel. He began to saw at the lamb steak with aggressive determination, as if confronting a mortal adversary.
Observing the black-haired boy from the side, Alicia's expression gradually shifted.
Several minutes later, Roel finally succeeded in cutting the lamb steak into manageable, bite-sized portions. He set aside the knife and fork, then picked up a piece of meat with his spoon.
Indeed, Roel's efforts extended beyond merely preparing the food; he intended to feed it to her personally!
“Alicia, open your mouth.”
“Huh? B-but...”
“Do as I say and open your mouth.”
“A-alright then.”
A pair of crimson eyes met a pair of golden eyes across the dining table. The silver-haired young girl hesitated for a moment before brushing a stray lock of hair from her face and leaning forward to accept the bite from Roel's spoon.
In that precise moment, she could feel the palpable shift in everyone's demeanor within the dining hall. The servants, whose gazes had initially held a hint of disdain, were now either frozen in shock at the display of intimacy or contemplating the situation with lowered heads. With this single, simple gesture from Roel, the ingrained prejudice against her began to crumble.
The succulent juices of the lamb steak burst within her mouth, carrying a subtle hint of sweetness. As Alicia savored the morsels that Roel had painstakingly prepared, an unexpected wave of emotion washed over her, bringing her close to tears.
'Is there truly anyone in this world, besides my father, who would treat me with such kindness?'
“How is it? Does it taste good?”
“... It’s delicious.”
Alicia continued to chew the meat, discreetly wiping her eyes with her hands. She gazed at the young boy seated opposite her, perceiving a profound warmth emanating from his eyes.
She felt an overwhelming urge to express something, but her throat tightened, rendering her speechless.
After a prolonged period, marked by numerous attempts to speak and subsequent failures, she finally managed to articulate a single sentence with great effort.
“Thank you, Lord Brother.”
(Affection Points +1000!)