Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 238
Nigel, as usual, considered walking away, but on second thought, he changed his mind and dropped into the chair opposite his brother.
“I saw your pathetic antics. How does it feel to get slapped by Father?”
Nigel shifted his gaze to Ulysses’ cheek.
“Father didn’t raise his hand. A servant made a mistake, that’s all.”
“That servant is bound to face a pay cut.”
“……”
“What’s with the silence? Normally, you’d jump to defend the staff at times like this.”
“Mistakes can be forgiven, but willingly committing a wrong when it could be avoided is inexcusable.”
“Ah, so striking Cecilia was wrong and can’t be forgiven?”
“…I heard from the butler that Father intended to act himself. The servant raised his hand, claiming he would take Father’s place and ingratiate himself.”
“Don’t you think your mother might have had a hand in that?”
“What makes you say that?”
“If Father didn’t strike her himself and let a servant do it, it leaves room for plausible deniability when explaining things to Count Lasphilla. It’s a feeble excuse, but in circles like this, anything that can pass as justification is used.”
“……”
Ulysses propped his chin on his hand, deep in thought, a faint sigh escaping his lips.
“That’s possible. But I have no desire to defend him.”
“Funny. Normally, you act like some paragon of virtue.”
“I only follow the words of the virtuous. I’ve never claimed to be one.”
“So you’re not a saint? Just a man? A man distracted by a woman?”
Ulysses said nothing, instead turning his gaze toward the window.
“…Has Cecilia gone?”
“Yes. I personally saw her off. As her ‘lover’, of course.”
“…Lover?”
Ulysses’ blue eyes returned to Nigel, scrutinizing him.
“Is letting your lover get slapped while you stand by something a ‘lover’ should do?”
“You’re just bragging because you got here first? I helped too. As you can see, I intervened far more directly and ensured she left safely.”
Ulysses couldn’t defy their father. Even when he tried to stop him, his efforts were often silenced by sheer force or overwhelmed by his father’s domineering personality.
But Nigel could. Whether it was because of Cecilia or not, Nigel would seize any chance to rebel or stand up to their father. This defiant streak was ironically inherited from the Marquis himself.
“Did you see Father’s face earlier? As soon as the subject of the Lasphilla heir came up, he turned pale and couldn’t even form proper sentences. For a moment, I thought the old man had developed sudden dementia.”
“…That’s my and my mother’s fault. Father doesn’t need to feel the same sense of responsibility that I do.”
“Right, it’s only natural to falter with age. All the more reason he should step down before he gets any more foolish.”
“That’s disrespectful to a man still in good health.”
“Good health? He’s practically leaning on that cane. His grip isn’t what it used to be. He used to hit hard enough to make my head ring—now it just tickles.”
Ulysses tilted an empty teapot, then set it back down. Their father’s violent tendencies were an uncomfortable topic for both of them.
Ulysses had never been struck by the Marquis. During his time living at the country estate, Guinevere often vented her anger on him, but that stopped once she became the Marquis’ wife.
In contrast, Nigel had been doted on by his birth mother but routinely beaten by their father. Early on, Nigel’s actions had often deserved punishment—he frequently insulted and spat at Guinevere after she became the Marquis’ wife.
But as time passed and Nigel grew old enough to marry, he stopped spitting at Guinevere in his father’s presence and largely ignored her.
Yet the Marquis continued to beat Nigel, as though it was an itch he couldn’t scratch. Much like a dog salivating under the dinner table at 2 PM, his hands seemed to twitch at the sight of Nigel’s face.
Ulysses let out a soft laugh through his nose, though it sounded more like a sigh than amusement.
‘Father loves you, Young Marquis.’
It was a phrase he couldn’t bring himself to say.
He thought it shameless to even hint at their father’s love.
And now…
He simply didn’t want to speak kindly to him, for any reason. Even if it was purely personal and emotional.
“Young Marquis.”
Instead, he asked.
“What you did to Cecilia… Was it because you thought I had feelings for her?”
