The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness Chapter 520: Brotherly Affection

“Family...”

The corner of Celicia’s lips lifted slightly; it was unclear whether she was smiling or mocking herself.

Perhaps they really could be called family—but this was the imperial house, and at such a tense mont for all sides, the word family instead carried danger.

At the very least, for these two brothers, it ant danger to one another. That second imperial prince with the less-than-stellar reputation would absolutely not show rcy at a critical mont like this.

“I think... if we weren’t burdened with the surna Leopold, but were instead born into an ordinary family, you and Andrew would probably be genuinely happy about my recovery.”

Albert spoke softly with a smile. That gentle tone of his always gave people an unconscious sense of closeness.

Celicia’s gaze flickered faintly. Unlike Andrew’s deliberately practiced calm and steadiness, the feeling Albert conveyed—hidden within his choice of words and tone—was sothing nearly impossible to fake.

“Imperial Brother is being overly pessimistic. At the very least, I truly am happy about your recovery,” Celicia said.

“...Thank you. I’m really glad I have a sister like you.”

Albert’s smile deepened. He looked at Celicia as though trying to discern whether her words were sincere, yet that cold, immaculate face—utterly devoid of emotional ripples—was like a vast frozen plain, making it impossible for anyone to glimpse her true feelings.

“By the way, Imperial Brother Albert... are you feeling unwell?”

Celicia asked again.

After all, this was a formal occasion. Though she had noticed sothing off about Albert from the start, asking such a personal question right away would have been impolite. Only after so brief pleasantries did she raise this important matter.

“It’s nothing serious.”

Albert waved his hand away, refusing the helping arm Celicia instinctively extended.

“Cough, cough... although my brain illness has recovered, I also went through a high fever and was bedridden for nearly a month. I’m well now—my body is just still a bit weak.”

“So Imperial Brother’s absence during this ti was because of that?”

“Heh, more or less. After all, now that I’ve regained my clarity, I couldn’t very well continue letting people see in such a wretched ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) state like before.”

As he spoke, Albert suddenly seed a little self-mocking, his gaze dimming as he shook his head.

“It’s a pity—my dear younger brother went to quite so lengths to force out into the open.”

“Perhaps Imperial Brother Andrew really did just want to hold a ball.”

“Celicia, you don’t need to comfort . Andrew’s true intention, I think, actually—”

“Haha, it seems soone is calling my na.”

Albert’s words cut off abruptly, because a warm, enthusiastic voice quickly drowned out the noise of the entire ballroom.

The two turned their heads. A familiar figure entered their field of view.

Andrew arrived, as always, with a large group in tow, stepping in from the grand entrance. Head held high and chest out, he strode through the parted crowd and went straight up to Albert.

Before Albert could even react, Andrew wrapped his arms around his elder brother in front of everyone’s astonished gaze.

“My dear elder brother, my respected Imperial Brother, Albert, whose blood flows from the sa source as mine—your recovery truly fills with joy!”

Andrew hugged Albert tightly, patting his back, his tone firm and sincere. Perhaps it was just the lighting, but many people thought they saw faint tears glimring at the corners of his eyes.

“I always wished you could recover like this. It must have been the Goddess who heard my prayers, allowing you to return to health!”

“Andrew... my dear younger brother.”

Albert was startled for a mont before his usual gentle smile returned.

“You’re being too enthusiastic.”

“Haha, with Imperial Brother fully recovered, there’s no such thing as being too happy.”

After the exchange of greetings, Andrew raised the wineglass handed to him by an attendant. As lights converged upon him, he lifted it high and proclaid to everyone in the hall:

“Everyone—my elder brother suffered from a brain illness for nearly thirty years, and now he has finally recovered. I am overjoyed. Yet there are always so petty villains, vermin, beasts scorned by the Goddess, who dare spread rumors in the shadows, claiming that my brother and I are at odds. That is why I have specially held this ball—not only to celebrate my brother’s recovery, and not only to end the recent disputes among all sides, but also to prove to you all—

“I, Andrew Leopold, and my elder brother, Albert Leopold, have never had any conflict or animosity between us. Between us, it has always been true brotherhood!”

“Clap clap clap—”

The mont his voice fell, thunderous applause erupted, almost lifting the palace roof. Smiles filled every face, as though all had been moved by the sincere bond between these brothers.

At the sa ti, the continuous click-click of shutters echoed. Among the group Andrew had brought in were reporters from Belrand’s major newspapers. They drew out magic devices for image capture, permanently preserving the scene of Andrew smiling as he held his elder brother tightly.

By tomorrow morning, headlines such as Prince Andrew Hosts a Grand Welco Ball for His Elder Brother and Prince Andrew and Prince Albert Display Perfect Brotherly Harmony would surely be spread throughout Belrand.

Yet the focus of those headlines—or rather, the figure deliberately emphasized—would all be that second imperial prince, Andrew, who had displayed such impressive magnanimity.

With the deliberate push of unseen forces, the ball gradually surged toward its climax.

...

“Heh, what a clumsy farce. Isn’t he afraid it’ll blow back on him soday?”

While all attention was fixed on the two princes, Celicia quietly diminished her own presence, drifting to the edge of the crowd and silently watching everything at the very center of the hall.

She knew that from this mont on, the ball had nothing more to do with her. She was content with that; after all, knowing her second imperial brother’s true nature, Andrew’s smug, pretentious expression was rather nauseating.

“Still... crude and forced as this display is, it doesn’t seem like sothing that Imperial Brother Andrew could think up on his own.”

Celicia’s beautiful eyes narrowed as her gaze swept across the group behind Andrew. Aside from the press and the attendants who had always followed him, she quickly spotted so familiar yet unfamiliar faces.

Familiar—because she knew all of them.

Unfamiliar—because in the past, these people had no business standing behind the second imperial prince.

“Viscount Com, Viscount Grant, and one who seems to be Count Neo’s eldest son—I’ve t him once before... heh, just small fry. Who knows who’s backing them.”

Celicia silently morized these nas.

Her mory was excellent; after a single glance, she lost interest and looked away.

“Beautiful lady, all alone?”

The mont she turned, a silver tray with a golden do appeared before her eyes.

Then an equally eye-catching, exquisitely beautiful face popped out from behind the tray, grinning at her with exaggerated winks.

“What would you like? Steak? Foie gras? Or perhaps... ?”

“Not hungry.” Celicia directly ignored Muen’s deliberate act.

“Is that so? Then what about fragrant, sweet cream cakes?”

Muen lifted the do. On the plate beneath, various delicately crafted little cakes were arranged into a heart shape, their sweet aroma filling the air and making one’s mouth water.

“......”

Celicia shot Muen a glance—one that seed dozens of degrees colder than usual—so sharp it made Muen’s bear-like body shudder, instinctively shrinking back a little.

But the next mont, with the sa speed she used when swinging a sword, Celicia picked up a fork and brought a cake to her cherry-red lips.

The instant her tongue pressed against it, the tense expression on her pretty face softened slightly, just like the cake itself.

“Is it good?”

“Average.”

“Then do you want more?”

“...Yes.”