Heyman’s ankle, belonging to the fussy pink prince, was quite sturdy.
“Show me your foot!”
“Hey!”
“Just take this off.”
“What, what are you doing!”
“Hold still! Why won’t this come off!”
I was desperate.
Building muscle takes too much time.
If there’s another way, I want to use it by any means necessary to return.
To the place where the bank and my 1.7 billion are.
My hands were weak from yesterday’s muscle pain, but fortunately, Heyman didn’t push me away forcefully.
He seemed quite concerned about Solea getting hurt, despite constantly mentioning the heir and successor.
Oh, this pitiful, clueless, and only-kind-when-he-feels-like-it insecure pink prince.
All he did was yell at the crazy person trying to take off his shoe.
“Why my foot! Oh, really! Solea!”
Heyman, who was staggering, eventually fell backward.
If it were me, I would have kicked with the other foot that wasn’t caught.
Even then, Heyman couldn’t kick me away with his foot and only pushed my shoulders with both hands.
“Are you crazy?! Get a grip! Is this another seizure?”
“Take it off! Let me see your foot!”
“Why my foot! Why are you acting like this all of a sudden!”
“Damn it, why won’t this come off!”
“You really…!”
“Ah, got it off!”
I finally took off Heyman’s shoe and wedged the pen between his toes.
“Now, quickly write your name here!”
I wanted to write ‘Return safely to the original world with the 1.7 billion winning paper’ right now, but I knew he’d pester me about what that meant.
First, I’ll have him write his name, and if it works, I’ll borrow his foot after giving him a sleeping pill.
Judging by his scarred foot, he must have gone through a lot, as I had heard, but that wasn’t important right now.
You have a lot of money. This is all I have.
“Please! Solea!”
“Not please, give me your foot! Write your name!”
I tried to bring the diary under his foot, but Heyman, with a flushed face, pushed me away and threw the pen from his toes.
Thinking I might grab him again, Heyman quickly stood up from the floor and took a step back.
“Why leave my name in that book! Solea! Get a grip!”
Shut up and give me your foot.
Holding the diary, I stood up and faced him, and Heyman’s pupils trembled slightly as if facing a madman.
He raised both hands, palms open, as if signaling a wild animal.
“…Calm down. After the magic lesson, I can’t use magic for a while, so I can’t put you to sleep. So please…”
“I also please. Give me your foot! Just write your name?”
“Why! What are you doing! Are you trying to publish a book with my name to disgrace me? If that’s your plan, you should give up. I don’t have a reputation to lose in the first place.”
Heyman’s voice, which had initially been loud with anger, gradually turned self-deprecating.
I took a deep breath and spoke calmly.
“Alright… Heyman.”
I am Solea.
I am Solea.
I am Solea.
I am the perfect Solea, combining intelligence and kindness.
After quietly self-hypnotizing, I smiled as benevolently as possible at Heyman.
“I just want to empathize with your pain.”
“…What are you talking about?”
Heyman retorted sharply, but compared to the loan sharks and debt collectors, this was nothing.
Even with a smooth face without scars or wrinkles, trying to intimidate me felt like a stray cat hissing.
Oh, you adorable pink meow prince.
“After losing my memory, I decided to rethink my life. I won’t lie in bed all day because I’m in pain, and I won’t avoid my brothers out of guilt.”
I was like a guest in the love room with Solea.
Having regained my composure, I cleared my throat and continued speaking.
“I want to embrace your difficult past, too. I want to be your comfort. I think that’s for the good of our family. Because protecting family is protecting the family name.”
I meant that we were family.
Gray liked it when I said this, but I wonder if it’ll work on Heyman.
I tried to smile as if sunlight was breaking through, pulling up the corners of my mouth.
I tried.
It just wasn’t enough.
“…Even if looking at my foot is one thing, why did you ask me to write my name?”
“Because it’s pretty.”
“What?”
Heyman’s brow, which had been listening intently to my nonsense until now, instantly crumpled. He strode towards me.
“Pretty? My foot?”
When I didn’t answer, Heyman quickly continued.
“I’ve never worn proper shoes in my life. Even though I’ve been in this house for almost 10 years, the scars are still there. My little toe that was torn healed strangely, making it look grotesque. And you’re saying that’s pretty?”
Heyman’s icy voice made me feel as if the room’s temperature had dropped.
“Don’t mock me too much.”
But I stood my ground and stuck to my earlier answer.
“I’m not mocking you. I really think it’s pretty.”
I looked straight into Heyman’s eyes as he threatened me up close.
“That foot shows how hard you’ve worked to get here. You’ve endured all those difficult situations and you’re here now.”
Heyman, who had been staring at me intently, turned his head away for a moment before looking back at me.
“Then why did you ask me to write? Wasn’t your goal to make me write something in that book?”
Busted, damn it. But listen to this.
“No. It’s… toe exercise. They say training the muscles in your toes helps develop the brain.”
“…Are you saying my brain is underdeveloped?”
Of course not, princess.
“No. I was worried because I heard you were lying down all day yesterday. Toe exercises are easy… And honestly, your foot is pretty. I thought it was a shame to keep it hidden.”
I glanced down at Heyman’s foot, still unshod.
The shape of his foot really is pretty. There are many small scars, but it’s not unsightly.
What’s wrong with having a few scars? My real body has even more scars than this.
…Not that it makes what I said any less of a sophistry.
Anne used to say, ‘The young lady was kind and smart!’
Well, that’s ruined now.
I should leave before this gets more complicated.
“…I really do think your foot is pretty. As pretty as your face. But you might need time. I’m sorry for being so pushy. I’ll be going now.”
I carefully picked up the pen that had fallen in the corner and left the room, avoiding Heyman’s still wary gaze.
*** *** *** *** ***
That evening, Heyman stood in front of the mirror and slowly took off his shoes.
No matter how he looked at it, his feet were covered in scars and looked unsightly.
Feet that bore the indelible memories of the past.
Heyman nervously crumpled his shoes back on and turned his back to the mirror.
“Seems like losing your memory made you a half-wit.”
…When he said that, Heyman was joking.
Until he saw the scene of the painter, whom Solea had called, drawing Gray’s foot in the garden.
“Hey! Heyman! Hello!”
“What is this.”
Gray, with his pants rolled up to mid-calf, was sitting on a table with his legs crossed.
The painter, maintaining his professional demeanor, was calmly capturing Gray’s foot on the canvas.
“Gray. Why are you showing your foot…”
I asked Gray, but the answer came from Solea, who was standing next to him.
“Since brother Heyman didn’t want to, I asked Gray to show his foot. He took off his shoes as if he’d been waiting for it. It’s a shame because brother Heyman’s foot is prettier, but it can’t be helped.”
“Hey! When did I take them off as if I’d been waiting! You asked to see my foot first!”
“Well, if someone passing by asks to see your chest, would you show it too?”
“Ch-chest… You crazy! Why bring up the chest here! And why do you call Heyman ‘brother’ and me ‘you’? Aren’t I your brother too!”
As the two began to argue, the painter, as if accustomed to such things, covered one ear with his left hand and continued his delicate touches.
“Sir, please don’t move your foot.”
At the painter’s quiet murmur, Gray, with his innate physical ability, turned only his upper body towards Solea to express his anger, leaving his lower body still.
The bizarre contrast between his capitalist lower body and his anger-stained upper body made Heyman feel like his mind was in chaos.
“You asked to see my foot! You said you wanted to see a pretty foot, but Heyman wouldn’t show his, so you asked to see mine!”
“Ugh! You took them off when I asked, and now you’re blaming me!”
Solea’s voice was full of mischief, but Gray, feeling truly wronged, flailed about before turning his ire towards Heyman.
“You should have just shown your foot!”
“…What?”
“You should have shown your foot! She called a painter, and you were going to just send him back? Do you know how much it costs a person working for a daily wage to lose a day’s work? She told me to take them off, so I did! I was your stand-in! If you’d taken them off, I wouldn’t have had to!”
A confused Heyman stammered.
“Why, why do you need my foot?”
Gray, as if frustrated, pounded his chest and said.
“She said your foot is prettier. Solea did.”
Is my foot really pretty?
What’s pretty about these feet?
Was she sincere about wanting to comfort the place I most wanted to hide?
…Wait a minute. Did she call a painter just because my foot is pretty?
Is she in her right mind?
The many questions floating in Heyman’s small head found no answers and continued to drift aimlessly.
At that moment, a sigh of regret escaped from the painter, who was touching the canvas with his brush.
“Hmm…”
Feeling guilty for flailing about while modeling, Gray quickly asked the reason.
“Is my posture wrong? My foot stayed still.”
“It’s not that. It’s just that, perhaps because you’ve received knight training, the shape of your foot is slightly off. It doesn’t seem to be the perfect foot Lady Solea is looking for.”
Like a prince searching for Cinderella, Solea showed clear signs of disappointment.
“Sigh… I wanted to see a beautiful foot with perfect balance, capable of freely moving the small muscles in the toes, while also telling a heartwarming story with each scar.”
Feeling guilty about his sister’s disappointment, Gray glanced at Heyman with a look of reproach.
‘You should have shown your foot earlier.’
The painter looked up at Solea and asked.
“Shall I continue?”
“Yes. I will love the past that Gray’s foot has treaded. We may not share blood, but we are siblings.”
Gray closed his mouth, seemingly moved, and the painter, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye, focused again on his painting.
Heyman couldn’t tell who was less crazy and who was more crazy among them.
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