Chapter 82: Groping Fatigue.
Peaceful moments can arrive at any time, in any situation.
In the middle of war, in the gaps between violence, in the brief pauses of pain.
Even when carrying worries heavy enough to keep one awake, there are always crevices where one can breathe.
For Violet, this was exactly such a crevice.
“You’re the princess of Litos, aren’t you, Rosette-sama? No wonder your hair and eyes are such a beautiful purple.”
“Yes. Though these days there aren’t many who have both like me.”
“Really? I’ve never been to the country itself… I’ve only seen the Jewel of Litos.”
The “Jewel of Litos” is the purple gemstone mined exclusively in Litos.
Worthy of bearing its country’s name, its brilliance steals every gaze.
It is said to be worth three times the average diamond, though how reliable that figure is remains a mystery.
Litos itself is a small kingdom, yet it enjoys immense trust and affection from other nations.
Most of its citizens have hair or eyes in shades of purple; thus, they named their national gem after the country.
It was knowledge Violet had only from textbooks and hearsay, so it had become something like a stereotype.
As expected, unless one sees or hears it firsthand, it’s hard to know what is current.
“I have twin older brothers. Only one trait each, though. One has the hair, the other the eyes… They look identical otherwise.”
“Oh, that makes it easy to tell them apart.”
“Fufu, everyone says that. Since we can’t mistake the princes, it’s apparently very helpful.”
“It’s… important, after all.”
A smile that resembled self-mockery slipped out all too naturally.
Proof that one is oneself cannot be provided by oneself.
A life that sprouts, is born, receives a name, and is finally complete grows into an individual only when recognized and called by that name.
No one can become anyone else; no matter how much one admires or envies, one can only ever be a second-rate copy.
That is a wonderful thing, yet at the same time cruel.
One cannot become someone else, yet one can become someone’s replacement.
If pushed, one can change to fit the role; and in doing so, one forgets.
The things that are important yet taken for granted and slip from the mind.
The very thing Violet had forgotten.
“But… that’s exactly why I want to be able to tell them apart in other ways too.”
If there’s the simplest, clearest method, using it is the wise choice.
Rosette herself had learned to distinguish her brothers that way.
So next, beyond that.
A way to cherish them even more.
“Because they’re important to me.
So that even if I couldn’t rely on the colors, I would never mistake them.”
It’s not difficult.
All she has to do is look at them closely.
They may share half their lives from birth, but they are not the same person.
“You’re very close with your brothers.”
“Yes… They played with me a lot when we were little. Being the youngest and the only girl, they were a bit overprotective.”
“…Is that where your hobby comes from, perhaps? From your brothers?”
Rosette’s expression froze for a few seconds at the memory-tinged smile.
Only her eyes darted about nervously before settling on the spot where yesterday’s illustrated guide had lain; today her hands were empty.
“There might be some influence. The first one I ever saw belonged to my brothers.”
“Most boys have them, don’t they… I had some too, long ago.”
“You did, Violet-sama…?”
“Strictly speaking, they were my father’s.”
More accurately, replicas of the ones her mother had prepared; the exact same models her father had owned as a child.
The originals had deteriorated too much to use, but obtaining identical new copies from the same maker had been easy for her mother.
“I especially loved mineral and gemstone guides. I was more interested in origin locations and stone meanings than the gems themselves.”
“…! M-me too…!”
Little by little, the conversation continued.
They slowly redrew their boundaries, carefully testing each other’s strings.
Choosing words with caution so as not to step in the wrong place, so as never to trample roughly.
It exhausted both mind and heart,
yet it was infinitely more meaningful than the times she was forced to halt thought, kill feeling, and was not even allowed to weave words.
She felt the pleasant fatigue she hadn’t experienced in so long gently piling up inside her.