LIGHTNOVELSTORY Chapter 124
<Chapter 124>
Carcel once again recalled the dream he’d had the previous night.
Just thinking about it made his chest ache, and tears welled up in his eyes. Yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about it—he felt he had to uncover the truth.
After hearing the name “Edgar,” he had searched the family records in the study. But no trace of the Edgar he had seen could be found.
There had been an Edgar listed in his great-grandfather’s time, but of course, the age and appearance didn’t match.
Was it just a meaningless dream, then?
Still, Carcel couldn’t let it go. He felt as though his subconscious was trying to tell him something.
Then, he remembered Randru erasing Theo’s memories not long ago. Along with that, he recalled Randru’s cryptic words.
“I’ve encountered such cases before—someone who didn’t recall sealed memories for over a decade.”
Randru had served under the previous Duke Heinst, who was supported by Carcel’s grandfather, the Duke before him. Randru had proven his loyalty early on by assisting the late Duke Heinst’s rise to power.
Someone like Randru wouldn’t have erased anyone’s memories on a whim. If he truly had erased someone’s memories, it must have been at the behest of the late Duke Heinst.
But why? Whose memories had the Duke ordered erased?
Carcel, plagued by persistent thoughts, decided to seek out Randru for answers.
When he found him, Randru was working on magical research with Ein. Carcel dismissed Ein, and Randru grew serious, sensing the gravity of the situation.
“What troubles you, Your Grace?”
“You once mentioned erasing someone’s memories, didn’t you?”
Randru feigned calmness, but Carcel noticed the faint twitch of his eyes.
“I’m not sure what you mean…”
“You said so when you erased Theo’s memories.”
“Ah, yes, I did say that.”
“Who was it whose memories you erased back then?”
“I cannot tell you that.”
“Was it on my father’s orders?”
Randru hesitated, then slowly nodded.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Then let me ask plainly: Have you erased my memories?”
This time, Randru answered without hesitation.
“No, I have not.”
Carcel scrutinized Randru, trying to discern the truth.
Even though Carcel was skilled at reading people, Randru’s age and experience made him difficult to read.
“Sir.”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever done anything to disgrace the Heinst family?”
Randru chuckled lightly as if the question amused him.
“If I had, do you think I’d still be standing here before you?”
“Indeed, a foolish question.”
As someone bound by a vow to his lord, Randru would have perished the moment he disobeyed his master.
“However,” Carcel began with a heavy heart, “did my father order you to conceal from me that you erased my memories?”
“Since I’ve never erased your memories, there’s nothing to hide.”
The overly straightforward answer only deepened Carcel’s suspicion.
Something was definitely there. Unable to shake his doubts, Carcel left Randru’s research lab and returned to his office. Once there, he discreetly summoned Chase.
“Chase.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Search the records for any mention of Edgar Heinst—quietly.”
“Edgar… Heinst?”
Chase repeated the name, his voice tinged with surprise.
“Who is this person, Your Grace?”
“I’m not sure myself.”
Carcel clasped his hands together and rested his chin on them, his expression thoughtful.
“But if he existed, he’d look very much like me. Likely around my age, too.”
“What do you mean…!”
Chase began to exclaim but quickly reined in his emotions, bowing respectfully.
“Understood, Your Grace. I’ll obey your command.”
As Chase left the office, Carcel watched him with a pensive expression before turning his attention back to his paperwork.
Yet the words on the documents blurred before his eyes, refusing to sink in.
“What did you discuss with His Grace, Master?”
“Nothing important.”
Randru gave a distracted reply to Ein’s question, sipping his steaming tea. His gaze wandered to the spot where Carcel had been standing moments ago.
Randru replayed their conversation in his mind.
“How could he know about Edgar’s erased memories?”
Edgar Heinst—once the late Duke’s eldest son and Carcel’s twin brother, a brilliant and kind-hearted boy.
Randru tried to summon Edgar’s cheerful face from memory but found it blurry. Still, the thought of him made Randru’s face harden.
If he were honest, Randru had favored Edgar over Carcel. Edgar was capable and amiable, unlike the timid Carcel.
Everyone had been certain Edgar would become the next head of the family without dispute.
That was why the tragedy of that day had shaken Randru deeply. Guilt over failing to save the child, grief at losing the heir—it had been unbearable.
But while Randru had wallowed in sorrow, the late Duke Heinst had moved on quickly, forced to prioritize Carcel, whose mana had begun to spiral out of control.
“You can’t bring back the dead. But the living must be saved.”
The Duke had said this as he pressed Randru to find a solution. Ultimately, Randru had sealed both Carcel’s mana and his memories. He erased the memories of everyone else involved, save for a trusted few.
Since Carcel had been unable to control his mana when it was sealed, there was always the risk of another outburst if the seal broke.
This was why the late Duke had ordered Randru and Robert to prevent Carcel from ever regaining his memories.
Even on his deathbed, the Duke had worried about Carcel.
Thus, Randru and Robert had kept watch over Carcel, ensuring his memories remained buried.
If not for Charlotte Lannia, everything might have gone smoothly.
“She’s such a nuisance.”
“What did you say, Master?”
“Nothing.”
Randru smiled crookedly as Charlotte’s bright face crossed his mind.
From the beginning, he had found her irritating.
That night, long after Theo and Carcel had fallen asleep, Charlotte lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.
“Is this really the right thing to do?”
Logically, she knew Carcel needed to regain his memories of Edgar. Carcel was strong; he might struggle at first but would eventually come to terms with it.
And yet, doubts kept holding her back.
Carcel appeared strong but was truly a sensitive and delicate person. Even as a child, hadn’t he been timid and shy?
His reputation as a cold-hearted man was solely the result of the late Duke’s harsh upbringing.
In the original story, Carcel had spiraled into grief after losing Theo, ultimately giving up on himself. It was Penelope who had resolved his mana issues.
Charlotte had already resolved not to follow the original plot. No matter how much Carcel’s mana raged, she was determined to calm it.
Even if Priestess Teresa had advised against using her power recklessly, Charlotte was willing to take the risk if it meant restoring Carcel’s happiness.
But what about Edgar’s memories? Charlotte had read only halfway through the book, and even at that point, Carcel hadn’t regained his memories.
She didn’t even know if he ever remembered Edgar by the end.
Without knowing how he would react, how could she predict the outcome?
“The late Duke and Duchess must have had their reasons for keeping it a secret.”
In the past, she had resented them for not giving Carcel a choice. But now, she could somewhat understand.
They had loved Carcel too much to risk his well-being.
Wouldn’t it be better for Carcel to live without such painful memories?
And yet, she couldn’t shake the guilt toward Edgar. How lonely must he have been, forgotten by the family who had once cherished him?
He had been only seven. His final moments must have been filled with fear and loneliness.
Charlotte’s tears stung as she recalled the boy’s youthful face from the portrait.
She wiped her damp eyes, then rose from bed to retrieve the pendant from her drawer—the one she and Carcel had shared.
Since the enchantment revealing Edgar’s name had broken, she had kept it hidden away, unable to erase the name or ask Ein to do it.
Running her thumb gently over the engraved name “Edgar,” Charlotte felt a sudden, inexplicable pull.
She left her room and wandered through the dark, empty halls, eventually reaching the greenhouse at the back of the estate.
Illuminating the space with her candle, she began picking flowers—the very yellow blossoms Carcel had brought from Lannia.
Charlotte gazed at the flowers piling up in her basket with a sorrowful expression before sitting down to weave them.
Her fingertips stung as if she’d touched needles, and tears threatened to spill again.
Sniffling quietly, she fought back her tears and continued working.
Soon, a floral crown identical to the one she had once made for Carcel was complete. But she didn’t stop there and kept weaving.
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