Pale, cold moonlight pierced the lingering mist and fell upon Iver, as though congealing into frost.
After Oswald left, he remained standing where he was, gazing at old James. He neither spoke nor moved, like an ice sculpture.
"—This was my fault."
Old James suddenly spoke. "I never expected Mr. Oswald's reaction to be so intense after learning about that matter."
"Which matter?"
"Little Yulia. Where I came from, where I was going... none of that was a secret. I told him a long time ago. I never kept these boring secrets from the people around me, just as I didn't keep them from you. It's just that some people weren't qualified yet. Knowing the truth would only cause them pain, or leave them powerless... I've never told them anything they couldn't bear.
"Citizens from Avalon don't need to know how the slaves of the Southern Continent live, and the commoners from Iris don't need to worry about whether Avalon and Antimony will go to war. No matter what the outcome is, they can't change anything. Knowing would serve no purpose and only add to their suffering."
Knowing... was itself a form of suffering. Just as it was for him.
At this point, the old man's brows relaxed slightly, and a helpless smile appeared on his face. "I imagined he might lose his temper. I imagined he might berate me. I even imagined he might silently accept it—all for the sake of a greater good. After all, when I threatened Edward back then, he chose silence as well.
"But I never expected that truth to pierce his heart. He continued standing upright without saying a word, but blood began to flow from his eyes, and his back gradually stooped. In an instant, he seemed ten years older... I mean ten