This chapter is brought to you by O Sole Mio by SF9.
Edited by: bafflinghaze
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Aurelion stepped out from behind the peonies and calmly approached the pavilion. His face remained cold and impassive, the perfect Odum poise encompassing his every move.
It was a shame, however, that this frosty demeanor was ineffective in the face of Neo, who knew where to spot the telltale signs of Aurelion's true thoughts.
His eyes landed on the boy's right hand and saw a slight movement discreetly being made between the thumb and index.
Aurelion would pick at his thumb when his mind was fraught with nerves.
As if noticing Neo's gaze, the boy tucked his hands behind him, shielding them from his line of sight. Blue sapphire eyes met his own in a challenging glare, defiant and chilly.
Neo raised his cup to his lips, feigning nonchalance.
His memories serve him well for moments like these. He had spent years watching this younger brother of his, it was merely one of the many significant observations he'd made during the span of this lifetime.
The nervous gesture could be considered endearing. It gave character—how Aurelion wasn't as perfect and aloof as he appeared to be.
Unfortunately, if this information ever fell into the hands of his political opponents, Aurelion would be easily pushed down by those who were dangerously more perceptive than the average person.
Who would believe a small and insignificant habit could potentially cause the Ducal to suffer a loss if anyone were to find out? Those of nobility were best at reading body language. As they say, the body does not lie. Those with eyes could see details unseen to the common eyes and would always come out on top.
Neo was keenly reminded of his past and current sins when he thought about the enemies who desired to harm the Odum Ducal. For those specific ones, he had no regrets for what he did.
Nazareth protected the House after claiming it as his own.
A street rat with nothing to call its own could be territorial at best and frighteningly possessive at its worse.
Foolish sons and daughters of lower families who dared to yearn for control of the Odum Ducal should wish less for what didn't belong to them, lest they wanted to lose everything they had.
Nazareth had habitually threatened and blackmailed those who came close to realizing Aurelion's weakness, going as far as to get rid of them if they proved to be more trouble than they were worth.
It was a decision made after weighing the pros and cons. He would certainly lose likely allies, but they were not allies if they sought to bring misfortune to his family.
It was a twisted form of love for his family and brother. Some may call it being protective of what he considered his own, but to those who knew better, Nazareth had selfish reasons to protect the brother he desired to kill.
It didn't make sense to shield Aurelion, but, did it ever make sense for a bastard son to force his way into running for heirship?
He wanted to destroy the Odum Ducal and bring pandemonium down on Noble Society, yet, he didn't allow anyone else to touch the Odum Ducal without his permission.
Nothing he did made any sense, but what can you do when you're a crazy bastard?
He could have let his little brother fall from grace, allow his enemies to take advantage of his weakness, and maneuver their way into high positions of power. Aurelion could have failed as the Odum Heir and he would be there waiting to snatch the title out from under him.
But Nazareth didn't allow any of that to happen.
Nazareth was a walking contradiction who saw such dirty ploys as below him. Yet, he preferred to plan overly excessive assassination attempts against Aurelion without any hesitation.
Was it pride and arrogance that made Nazareth decide on such foolish tactics? Or was it something else?
The moment the young boy from the Red Light District was able to figure out how to commit subtle atrocities, he did them with no remorse or hesitation.
Yet, for Aurelion, he chose violence and physical altercations. His attempts were all very straightforward, sending gangs and assassins every couple of months to do the dirty work.
Nazareth had stopped 'poisoning' Aurelion when poison plants became accessible to him, only because he had grown bored of games like those.
This 'benevolence' didn't change the blood staining his fingertips. Neo wasn't any less innocent than he was before.
He had been clear-minded the first time he murdered a man.
When branding Rainier, his thoughts were all thought out meticulously.
When ordering a kill order on his brother, he did so in a manner similar to grocery shopping.
Saying he had drowned in his lunacy didn't excuse what he had done when his head was clear of any madness. His descent into that madness was bound to happen with every sin he committed.
The crimes were his own and his punishment was due. Nazareth was already on the edge. If he had lived any longer, he would have been a threat to the Empire and its people.
It was a constant cycle of contradictions he perpetrated for himself. Slow torture of gentle agony ate at him.
He didn't know how and he didn't know when, but eventually, all his ambitions carried him into a state of insanity he couldn't recover from.
The only end for him was death. He knew at that moment, standing on the cliff, there was nothing for him anymore besides the sweet release death would bring him.
He never really worked smarter when it came to Aurelion. Just harder and harder until it drove him further down the path of destruction.
Neo's gaze turned rueful for just a moment, the calm and open expression collapsing on itself the more he was reminded of his actions.
Facing the source of his purpose and downfall, he could only voice out a question he would have never asked in his first life.
"Did you need something from me?"
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Aurelion should have just ran for it. His pride had placed him in this situation and now he was screwed.
Now stood before his brother.
The western garden was Nazareth's domain. Aurelion was pretty sure there was a body or two hidden somewhere, likely with a long list of fabricated crimes attached to a foot.
It was safe to say Aurelion did not trust his personal safety in the hands of his brother.
Nazareth's blood-red vermillion eyes flickered to Aurelion's hands for just a second. Aurelion instinctively knew he was being read like an open book. He cursed himself for letting down his guard.
Shoving his hands behind his back, he forced his posture ramrod straight as to not appear intimidated by his brother's presence.
Even while sitting there with a table full of pastries and a teacup in his hand, his brother still looked like he could kill him with nothing but a fork.
Aurelion knew long ago he couldn't trust his brother. How could he? It wasn't like the older ever hid his intentions. Nazareth had shown him that there could only be one son in the Odum Family.
As hurt as Aurelion had been when his older brother first exposed his intentions, Aurelion was still the rightful heir. He refused to bow down to the whims of a clearly unhinged brother.
Nazareth stared at him, his eyes containing lukewarm emotions, unrippled and calm. He doesn't say anything.
Aurelion assumed it was to stretch out the awkward silence.
Under the pavilion of this garden, the power went to his brother.
However, when he was asked the strange inquiry by Nazareth, it sent his mind reeling with assumptions.
Did he need anything? From him?
When had he ever needed anything from Nazareth?
No one could blame Aurelion for staying alert. He was always reading between the lines of his brother's words to understand his meanings.
Nazareth didn't lie.
He liked to play with your head with words you couldn't trust, but somehow, he never lied.
It was either you were too stupid to understand him, or he was purposely making himself difficult.
Rather than what he needed from Nazareth, it should be what Nazareth wanted from him.
Or perhaps it is a genuine question?
His brother wasn't a liar. He had never hidden his intentions from him.
But this time, Aurelion really couldn't understand him.
Yesterday, Nazareth cut his hair.
Without those messy strands getting in the way of his face, one could clearly see every aspect of his features.
Aurelion hadn't seen Nazareth's face for a long time.
His face was as superior as an Odum, but rather than the scowls and the promise of violence Aurelion had expected, Nazareth's natural expression was surprisingly cold like water. It didn't fit Aurelion's narrative of a deranged psycho.
His mood darkened considerably the more he contemplated this alongside his current predicament.
This was all Benedick's fault! If he hadn't spouted those classist rhetorics during the meeting with the crown prince, Aurelion would not have grown so furious.
And if Aurelion wasn't so blind by his anger, he would have recognized which direction he was taking when he entered the manor ground. Then, perhaps he would be in his office right now instead of standing in front of his crazy, murderous, scummy, trouble-making brother!
Nazareth gently placed the teacup on the table with a soft clank. It seemed like he'd become tired of the silence between them.
Aurelion internally scoffed. What game was he playing this time?
However, his assumptions were challenged when Nazareth sighed in a helpless manner and raised his hand.
Aurelion froze on the spot, wondering what his brother would do next.
"Sit with me," Nazareth stated, pushing a cup toward the seat opposite of him. "Rainier said you skipped breakfast."
The words coming out of his brother's mouth sounded... nice?
Aurelion was taken off-guard.
Nazareth didn't—shouldn't—be speaking like that...
No! More importantly—what the hell, Rainier?!
Aurelion shot the servant a look. He wasn't sure if the blindfolded man had caught it, but he would like to think he did.
As a Capable Servant, Rainier couldn't lie if he was asked a question by his brother. It was considered a 'breach of trust', technically, but the servant was already his spy.
They'd already crossed that line of trust long ago when Rainier chose to work for him against Nazareth.
Telling his older brother his itinerary was a terrible idea!
But that was the least of his worries now!
Looking at the extravagant display of pastries on the table, Aurelion grew even more nervous.
Nazareth had stopped poisoning his tea eight years ago, but still, he didn't trust the other to hold that record.
Even with Rainier here, Aurelion's brother was capable of other underhanded means to poison him.
He'd witnessed people go missing after offending Nazareth, and it was usually after he offered them something to eat or drink. Aurelion had no evidence of his brother poisoning them to death, but he knew.
Nazareth smiled when the person he offered a treat to didn't show up at school the next day.
---
Watching Aurelion grow pale as he stiffly made his way over to a chair was a sight to see.
The poor kid looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
Nazareth felt guilty. Did Aurelion feel obligated to stay?
"Are you alright?" He couldn't help but voice his concern.
Aurelion merely nodded, his face turning even more glacial than before.
It was said that the frostier an Odum got, the harder it was to tell what they were thinking.
Aurelion was the very definition of this. Neo was afraid his brother was going to evolve into an iceberg at this rate.
"You can leave—"
"I'm fine."
Neo raised an eyebrow. What a stubborn brat.
It was clear the other wasn't comfortable with him!
In all honesty, though, Neo didn't know how to do this. He was as much of a mess as his seemingly distraught brother, but perhaps he was better at hiding it than the walking ice cube.
"Here,"
He placed one of the cakes in front of Aurelion.
Aurelion's head snapped up to look at him directly, but Neo had already turned his gaze down to his teacup, feeling embarrassed.
He didn't have any younger siblings in the Modern World. There were a few adoptive cousins he got to see during the holidays, but his parents could only keep up with one child.
Neo would like to assume he was an easy kid to take care of—but the ones who had real first-hand experience were his parents. He was apparently quite fussy as a baby and was harder to deal with in his teenage years.
At some point in time, he started to miss Aurelion and Guinivere. He had, at first, been grateful he was an only child, but as time went on... this wasn't the case.
His relationship with Aurelion and Guinivere was iced over and unrepairable by the time he died in his previous life, but it didn't mean he wasn't used to the presence of siblings, no matter how much he wanted to deny this.
But that was beside the point.
Sitting in front of his biological younger half-brother who he hadn't seen face-to-face for decades, the experience was really awkward, you know?
In two years, this boy was supposed to kill him—which was crazy to think about because Aurelion had been what? Seventeen?
That was way too young!
Says the pot to the kettle...
Okay, maybe not too young if one put into perspective his own crimes, but Neo was technically a modern man.
At seventeen in the modern world, he was dyeing his hair green and piercing his nose.
How do you fix a mess like this!?
Rainier approached him from behind and dutifully refilled his empty cup.
Neo hadn't noticed it was empty.
Was he even drinking anything for the last five minutes?
He felt deeply embarrassed.
Burden by the knowledge of the coming future, Neo couldn't keep himself from softening his voice. He spoke as if he was talking to a kid.
"How was your day?"
---
Aurelion was startled by the seemingly innocent question.
His brother spoke with a gentle voice he'd only ever heard once or twice before.
When Guinivere was still little, Aurelion had heard him talk to her with that tone, which was a cross between the elegant elocution of the aristocracy and something light and airy he couldn't quite pinpoint.
He sounded... concerned? Aurelion wasn't sure what to make of that.
Nazareth had a bit of an accent when he first arrived at the manor. Aurelion assumed he gained it from his years on the street. His brother trained himself out of the accent once he started to integrate into Noble Society, but sometimes, it would still slip out.
Their father never mentioned where Nazareth came from.
Some people at the Academy had done some digging and revealed that his mother was a whore.
Not that it made Nazareth any more inferior. Bastard child or not, his older brother was still the same crazy guy everyone was terrified of.
Besides, even with his mother's background being exposed, it still didn't explain anything about his past.
"Young Master Aurelion," Rainier poured tea into his cup.
Aurelion smelled peppermint wafting from the cup and peered at it curiously.
Not blue earl?
He accepted the cup of tea but refused the cake.
He trusted Rainier, but the same couldn't be said for Nazareth.
For all he knew, the other could have added something into the cake when he gave it to him.
Aurelion took a slow and deliberate sip. He'd kept quiet for this long. Sooner or later, Nazareth would get bored and leave once he realized he wasn't going to talk.
He pretended to savor the tea but immediately spat it back into the cup once he tasted the bitter menthol of the peppermint.
He furrowed his brows.
Why can't his brother drink something normal?
Across the table, Nazareth laced his hands together and leaned forward expressionlessly, watching him.
If Aurelion didn't know any better, he would say his brother was taking great joy in watching him.
Which... didn't make sense at all.
He thought Nazareth would prefer to look at him once he was dead.
"Bitter?"
Aurelion flinched.
Why was his brother still talking to him?!
A moment later, Nazareth blinked.
"You can leave if you want."
Again with those words!
He was taunting him! He was definitely taunting him!
Aurelion stubbornly remained in his seat.
He was afraid if he left, there might be a trap awaiting him at the exit!
Rainier came over with some honey and poured a generous amount into his tea.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Aurelion, Neo didn't mind his silence. He commended the brat for being so uptight and cautious. He knew he wasn't worthy of any trust from his brother. Not yet. Not with the way things were.
Aurelion took careful glances at Nazareth from the corner of his eyes, observing him secretly under the guise of 'admiring the scenery.'
Nazareth was staring into space—or maybe also 'admiring the scenery?' Occasionally, he would raise his cup and drink, but he didn't eat any more of the desserts on the table.
The rest of the food remained untouched, so the only sounds that could be heard under the pavilion were the clinking of cups and the occasional sound of tea being poured.
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Step 7. Hold a peaceful conversation with your younger brother who killed you in the past because you've tried to kill him many, many times before.