Prologue
Year N, Month N, Day N / Weather: Clear / Mood: Suspicious
Something is off about the youngest in our house.
I’m sure of it—he’s hiding his true nature.
I saw it with my own eyes. He secretly dropped the roasted bell pepper that was served for dinner.
And that wasn’t all.
As if stepping on it and crushing it flat wasn’t enough, he even covered it with a napkin to stage the perfect crime. (Still gives me chills when I think about it.)
That poor bell pepper will probably be discovered by the maids while cleaning the dining room—found in a miserably mangled state… …
What’s even creepier is that when I was about to tell Father what I’d seen, he looked straight at me and slid a finger across his own throat.
Of course, as a brave man of House Gevert, I wasn’t scared at all.
But since the youngest is clearly a demon hiding a terribly wicked nature, I decided to… …
Let it slide. Just this once.
You don’t want to wake a demon at the dinner table!
And besides… …
As an older brother, it’s only natural to cover for a younger sibling’s faults, right?
Anyway, that’s how it is.
I mean, I’m grateful he freed me from being the youngest.
But still.
He’s suspicious.
Year N, Month N, Day N / Weather: Cloudy / Mood: Gloomy
I sparred with the youngest today.
Father said,
“Since House Gevert is the greatest knightly family on the continent, we must never neglect our training—not for a single moment!”
I’ll train hard and become a magnificent knight who protects the Empire!
Ah, of course, that applies to the youngest too.
Even though he was suddenly brought into our house by Father, he’s still a man of House Gevert, after all!
Naturally, the youngest collapsed today as well, unable to properly swing the practice sword even once.
Hmph. Seriously, what is he going to do like that?
But now that I think about it, something’s strange.
The youngest looks so scrawny he couldn’t even lift a tree branch… …
Yet when we actually spar,
I just can’t beat him.
Why?
Year N, Month N, Day N / Weather: Sunny / Mood: Great
I got a new sword! Yahoo!
I’ll brag about it when Brother Liam comes back!
It’s a super awesome-looking sword that Father and Grandfather personally commissioned from a blacksmith. (According to Uncle Obrone, anyway.) I need to hurry up and become a knight worthy of wielding such an awesome sword.
Oh, the youngest got a sword too.
Since he’s so small—his body’s small, his hands are small, everything about him is tiny—Father seemed to agonize over it for several days.
In the end, after discussing it with Grandfather, they decided to give him one of the family’s swords or something like that.
Whatever.
My sword is cooler!
Hehe… …
.
.
.
Year N, Month N, Day N / Weather: / Mood:
Rubian.
I’m warning you—
Don’t steal my diary. Seriously.
Year N, Month N, Day N / Weather: Snow / Mood: Absolutely Great
Because the evil youngest kept stealing my diary, I bought one with a lock.
You really can’t let your guard down around him!
He keeps grumbling, asking why I write about him so much.
… …Do I write about him that often?
Then what am I supposed to write in my diary?
Hmm.
More importantly, tomorrow is the day Mother returns from recuperating in the south.
So—ex—ci—ted!
Year N, Month N, Day N / Weather: / Mood:
The whole household was thrown into chaos.
Because the youngest in our family—
Rubian—
Was a girl.
