Passion: Diaphonic Symphonia Novel - Chapter 17

For two months.

That meant he had been here ever since he left home.

He should have checked what kind of request Ilay had made of Richard from the moment he saw him here.

“…Why are you here?”

“Because the succession decision date is approaching.”

Jeong Taeui looked up. He glared at the undeserving—though if he delved deep, not entirely undeserving—Christoph and asked grumpily, “What’s that again?”

“The elders are stepping down soon, so it’s time for the next successor to Tarten to emerge. When choosing a successor from among candidates who have competed for over twenty years, it’s customary to hear the opinion of someone from the Riegrow side, our long-time ally. It’s largely nominal, but a custom is a custom.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That cumbersome and annoying task, that guy diligently takes it upon himself to help with family matters?!”

“Indeed, I also expected Kyle to come, or if necessary, even Helena from America, but that guy came. It was quite unexpected…”

Christoph said that, then fell silent and stared into space for a moment. He bit his fingers as if deep in thought, then suddenly glanced at Jeong Taeui.

“?”

“…”

He met that silent gaze with puzzlement. Christoph soon quietly averted his eyes.

Something felt suspicious. Jeong Taeui narrowed his eyes and leaned towards Christoph. And he silently urged him with an arrow-like gaze to speak quickly if he had something to say.

Christoph thought for a moment, then opened his mouth.

“By the way.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you commit some crime against that guy? Why are you making such a fuss? You didn’t know he was here and then you ran into him, is there any reason to turn so pale?”

This time, Jeong Taeui fell silent. Christoph, looking down at Jeong Taeui, bent deeply at the waist while still seated. He brought his face close to Jeong Taeui’s and stared intently, continuing, “Did you steal a book he values?”

“Am I you?!”

“Or… ah.”

Suddenly, Christoph muttered briefly as if something had occurred to him. Jeong Taeui nervously watched his lips, wondering what he would say. His lips suddenly formed a very loose curve and then stopped. As if smiling an unfamiliar smile.

“Right. Come to think of it, he did say something like that. Past life karma. …Did you try to escape your karma only to be caught by the ankle…”

“I didn’t run away.”

Jeong Taeui retorted grumpily. Christoph then hummed, as if understanding. His eyes, along with the corners of his lips, curved slightly again.

Jeong Taeui looked at that subtle face and suddenly thought of something else.

This man really can’t laugh. Even a sneer is this hard for him.

“…You…”

Jeong Taeui stared blankly at his mouth. He wanted to extend his index finger and press the corner of his mouth to lift it up, but as soon as Jeong Taeui extended his finger, Christoph frowned and straightened his back again.

Jeong Taeui withdrew his finger and clicked his tongue.

Christoph, his smile gone, rose from the chair. He took out a book that had been horizontally placed on the bookshelf beside him, glanced at the title, then walked to the opposite bookshelf and shelved it, shrugging slightly.

“You don’t have to worry so much. Well, I don’t know about after he returns to Berlin, but at least while he’s here, he won’t be able to harm you.”

Christoph took out the book right next to the one he had just shelved and frowned. He grumbled coldly, “You shelved it wrong, this is philosophy,” and put it in the bookshelf in front.

Jeong Taeui stuttered for a moment. His tongue was momentarily tied, wondering whether to say that it would be much faster and more efficient if Christoph just organized it himself, or that “I don’t know about after he returns to Berlin” effectively meant he should worry, or why he couldn’t be harmed while he was here.

Christoph looked at Jeong Taeui, who was stammering “that, Ber, why,” with a serious face. He looked at him as if he were looking at someone who was lacking.

Jeong Taeui closed his mouth, took a deep breath, and then slowly opened it again. He decided to address the most puzzling thing first.

“Why while he’s here? Is there a watchful eye or something?”

But he wasn’t the kind of person who would be careful just because someone was watching.

Jeong Taeui tilted his head slightly. Seeing Jeong Taeui’s puzzled expression, Christoph, like a ghost, found the book Jeong Taeui had ambiguously classified and shelved, and put it in its correct place. That is, all the books he had vaguely put away were misplaced.

“Because you’re next to me now, and he’s next to Richard now.”

“…Huh?”

Christoph clicked his tongue, annoyed. He put force into his hand as he shelved the book.

“Whether you like it or not, you’re under my authority here. Don’t you think so?”

With his last words, Christoph glanced at him. Jeong Taeui muttered self-deprecatingly, “I told you I don’t like taking sides,” and shrugged.

However, as he said, Jeong Taeui was realistically on Christoph’s side in this house. Jeong Taeui himself wanted to believe he was standing in the middle, but others didn’t see it that way.

“Then, is Ilay on Richard’s side?”

Jeong Taeui recalled Ilay talking quite intimately with Richard and added, bewildered.

“He wouldn’t be the type to take anyone’s side, would he?”

As far as Jeong Taeui knew, Ilay Riegrow was always on his own side. He moved for himself, according to his own judgment.

“Rick is neutral. As long as he’s here to judge the successor, he can’t take anyone’s side.”

Christoph shook his head and said flatly.

“You said he was next to Richard.”

“That’s right. In the position of observing Richard, who is a succession candidate. …That means he must be fair to all succession candidates and their associates.”

Christoph took out a book buried deep in the furthest, least noticeable part of the bookshelf, and tapped his other hand with its spine, finishing his sentence. Meeting his steady gaze, Jeong Taeui slowly nodded.

“Indeed… then he certainly can’t harm me, who is clearly under your authority.”

Jeong Taeui nodded, thinking to himself, “I wonder if that guy will really not do anything,” and then quickly looked up.

“But to judge the successor, that’s too much, no matter how deep the friendship is, Tarten and Riegrow.”

“Hmm? Ah—no, it’s not. Ten people are asked for their opinion. This is a small yet enormous kingdom to be inherited, so one person alone cannot decide. Of course, not all ten have equal say.”

Christoph waved his hand. More precisely, the book in his hand.

“Only two of those ten are not our blood relatives, so their actual decision-making power can be considered non-existent. I told you, bringing someone from the Riegrow family is a custom. That person didn’t necessarily have to be Rick. Kyle, Helena, or the adults of that house, anyone from the direct line would have been fine.”

Jeong Taeui laughed with a mere breath, adding, “No one expected Rick to come, though.”

“Anyway, for that reason, given his position, Rick can’t harm you while he’s here. Of course, he can’t help you either.”

“Help, you say… What would I need his help for here?”

“Perhaps something trivial, like collecting books that need to be returned from someone in Tarten.”

“…Ah.”

Jeong Taeui nodded blankly, only then recalling that fact.

He didn’t know if this man would readily return the books if Ilay stepped in—and it was highly unlikely that Ilay would bother if it was Kyle’s books—but Jeong Taeui still clicked his tongue, regretting the loss of such a possibility.

Then, suddenly recalling a fact, he glared at Christoph.

“But what is this? There are no books here.”

He had rummaged through this study all afternoon, drenched in sweat, looking for Kyle’s books, but couldn’t find a trace.

“No books, you say? What do you think all these things filling this room are?”

Christoph let out a short sigh and pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the numerous bookshelves holding a vast collection of books.

“Kyle’s books aren’t here.”

“Kyle’s books? Those are somewhere else. Those books need to be carefully stored. The temperature and humidity must be just right, and you even have to be careful about light, so I can’t put those books here. …Are you really confident you can take good care of the books and return them?”

Christoph looked at Jeong Taeui with genuine concern.

No, this guy makes him suffer endlessly and now he’s talking nonsense…

“Stop talking nonsense and just give me the books back quickly. I need to get home as soon as possible…!”

Jeong Taeui tried to shout, but stopped mid-sentence with his mouth open.

“Need to get home quickly? Why?”

Christoph asked, tilting his head. Jeong Taeui just blinked with his mouth open.

That’s right. Come to think of it, the reason to get home quickly was gone now. Since he had directly run into the very person he wanted to avoid the most, he was already a lost cause.

“…”

Christoph tilted his head repeatedly, asking “Why? Why?” in front of him, as if he couldn’t figure out the reason, but the sound didn’t reach Jeong Taeui’s ears.

Jeong Taeui completely collapsed onto the floor.

Perhaps the problem wasn’t past life karma. There might be some fundamental problem with this situation, where hardship constantly arose. To solve that fundamental problem—

“I think I need to go back to Korea for a bit…”

Jeong Taeui muttered like a groan. Christoph, somehow understanding that small voice, bent down and leaned towards Jeong Taeui.

“Are you homesick because you’re mentally and physically exhausted?”

“…I need to look into a shamanistic ritual…”

“A shamanistic ritual? What’s that?”

“…”

As he had been told on the day he arrived at this mansion, Jeong Taeui rarely had reason to go to the main building. He had never been to the East Wing.

He generally knew the layout.

Most functions dealing with external affairs—ranging from welcoming guests to business—or overall internal management of the household were handled in the main building. Almost everything in the mansion, except for the private spaces where residents slept and rested, could be said to be in the main building.

In contrast, the East and West Wings were where blood relatives, both direct and collateral, resided and rested. They were living spaces for sleeping, resting, and washing. The only difference between the East and West Wings was that the former was used by older generations and the latter by younger ones, but their functions were similar.

When a long-term guest visited, precious guests were given rooms in the East Wing, and others in the West Wing. Jeong Taeui had grumbled for a moment upon hearing this, but the guest room in the West Wing where he stayed was comfortable enough that he had no intention of complaining.

“Even so, to think that people who lived mixed together in the same house until recently, one stays in the East Wing as a distinguished guest and the other in the West Wing as an errand boy, that’s a bit offensive.”

Jeong Taeui muttered to himself, sitting on a bench in front of the West Wing, with the main building and East Wing visible in the distance.

Just then, a few men in suits came out of the main building’s central entrance. Seeing them walk towards the car waiting at the bottom of the stairs, talking about something, Jeong Taeui leaned sideways and half-hid behind the ornamental plants that came up to his hip height.

There was no reason to hide, but one of the men was tall and well-built, vaguely resembling Ilay from a distance. Even though he knew it wasn’t, his body instinctively sank lower.

“No, it’s good I stayed in the West Wing. If I had gotten a room in the East Wing, how would I even be able to properly move around in the same building?”

Jeong Taeui grumbled again.

Christoph’s words were right.

The day I encountered that nightmare-like reality in broad daylight, I was huddled in my room, ready to face whatever terrible fate awaited me, but Ilay never came to see Jeong Taeui that day. Nor the next day, nor the day after that.

No, to be precise, it was rare for them to even cross paths. After that, Jeong Taeui only saw him a couple of times from a distance, and they never brushed past each other close enough to exchange words.

As if he were truly, completely neutral, observing without leaning towards either side, Ilay didn’t approach Jeong Taeui, nor any of the other people in the West Wing. The same went for Christoph, who wasn’t a succession candidate.

In such a situation, it was practically impossible for Ilay, who stayed in the East Wing and mainly moved between the East Wing and the main building, and Jeong Taeui, who roamed the West Wing, to meet.

Even though it was due to anxiety, Jeong Taeui had been waiting with a pounding heart, wondering if Ilay would burst in today or tomorrow, but instead, he felt deflated.

“Well, I guess there’s not much good that would come from us meeting, huh?”

Jeong Taeui leaned back on the bench, his arms stretched out, and looked up at the sky.

Indeed, there might not be much good that would come from them meeting. Not just for Jeong Taeui, but for Ilay too.