Enough with Dying as an Extra chapter 26

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Just as Herel finally managed to string together some words to say, a knock echoed beyond the tightly shut door.

The palace attendant, noting Sia’s complete lack of energy, hesitated before carefully opening the door.

The visitor was none other than Viscount Yones, a messenger sent by the Grand Prince himself.

Unable to bear watching Sia’s suffering any longer, the Grand Prince had ordered Vivisian to be brought to the principality.

The palace attendant was about to send him away, believing that Sia wasn’t in any state to receive visitors.

But something about Viscount Yones’s expression made him step aside.

Yones strode in, pausing for a brief moment before signaling the attendant to announce his presence.

“Hesia, Your Highness,” the attendant spoke cautiously. “Viscountess Yones has come to see you.”

Unsurprisingly, Sia didn’t respond.

He didn’t even glance his way.

But Yones didn’t seem offended.

He simply observed the boy’s unmoving figure in silence.

When the attendant made to speak again, he held up a hand to stop him and instead took slow steps forward.

When there were about five steps between them, he finally spoke.

“Greetings, Your Grace. I am Iryn Yones, though I am unworthy, I serve under His Highness the Grand Prince. I apologize for the sudden visit without prior notice, but while I was in the Empire to escort Lord Vivisian back… I learned something that I felt I must tell you.”

The moment those words left his mouth, Sia shot up from the floor as if he had been struck by lightning.

His reaction was so quick, it was hard to believe this was the same boy who had refused food and sleep for four straight days.

The palace attendants, used to seeing Sia sulk and throw tantrums, were stunned to see him so lively.

Only Herel and Yones remained unfazed—Herel because he had already witnessed the extent of Sia’s attachment to Vivisian, and Yones because he had learned something in the Empire that prepared him for this reaction.

Sia practically rolled toward Yones, his face lighting up with anticipation.

“That’s right! The Grand Prince sent someone to the Empire! What did Vivi say? Is he coming? Of course he is! He wouldn’t have felt at ease sending me away like that. I should make sure he gets the best room when he arrives. Oh, but the principality’s cuisine is different from the Empire’s. What if he doesn’t like the food? Should I hire a personal chef for him?”

His excitement was obvious—his pale face had even gained a rosy tint.

The palace attendants, watching Sia act his age for the first time since arriving at the castle, exchanged uneasy glances.

Their young prince was practically glowing with joy, while Yones, on the other hand, remained eerily silent.

As Sia began fretting over how little he actually knew about Vivisian’s preferences, Yones took a deep breath and bowed deeply.

“…What’s wrong? Why are you acting like that?”

A sense of foreboding washed over Sia.

His body moved before his mind caught up, stepping backward on instinct.

The moment his back hit the cold wall, Yones finally spoke.

“I’m sorry. I was unable to bring Lord Vivisian back.”

The words Sia least wanted to hear slipped from her lips.

His body sagged against the wall, his eyes blinking in a daze.

Slowly, his head tilted to the side as the meaning sank in.

When he finally looked at her again, his eyes had darkened.

“Why. Why not? Did Vivi say he didn’t want to come? He doesn’t want to see me anymore? Is that it?”

Yones, clearly struggling, hesitated for a long moment before lowering her head in silent apology.

Then, as if she had made up her mind, she clenched her fists and inhaled deeply.

“No. That’s not it. To be precise, I never even had the chance to see Lord Vivisian. By the time I arrived in the Empire, he had already….”

“Already?”

She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Her expression wavered, unsure if she should even be saying this at all.

But Sia’s expectant gaze forced her to continue.

“…He had already passed away.”

A stunned silence followed.

The palace attendants, knowing just how desperately Sia had been waiting for Vivisian, gasped audibly.

Even Herel, who had been slumped on the sofa, jolted upright so violently that the sofa creaked beneath him.

But while the others barely managed to collect themselves, Sia didn’t react at all.

He simply stood there, unmoving, as if refusing to accept what he had just heard.

Then, as if the strength had been drained from his body, he collapsed onto the floor.

Everyone in the room rushed toward him in a panic.

For the first time since leaving the Teian Ducal House, Sia was treated with the utmost gentleness—careful hands supporting him as they helped him up.

But Sia shook them all off.

Standing stiffly, he stepped toward Yones, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re lying.”

“…Your Grace, I have no reason to lie to you. I only speak the truth—”

“No! It’s a lie! There’s no way Vivi is dead. That’s not something that can be true.”

His voice rang through the room, Sharp enough to cut.

The others flinched at the sheer force of his denial, but Yones held firm.

“It’s true. Your Grace, I would never lie to you.”

“No… Just say it was a lie. Say that I was a foolish prince who never listened, so you had to lie. Just… just tell me it was a lie. If you tell me the truth even now, I won’t say anything. Please, Viscount….”

With a trembling voice, Sia clutched desperately at her collar.

Iryn, who had been watching his quivering hands with a sorrowful gaze, lowered her eyes.

“I confirmed the body myself. Lord Vivisian… has truly passed.”

Her voice carried only the weight of truth.

As someone adept at gathering information, Iryn could discern fact from fiction with ease, but Herel, who had stood frozen in indecision, finally broke down in sobs.

Sia, staring blankly at the boy who had burst into tears, looked as pale as someone drowning underwater.

A commoner’s son, then a slave, then a cherished ward of a duke.

And at the end, unknowingly reclaiming his lost title as a prince of the principality.

Despite ascending to the highest position, Sia wore the expression of one who wandered the lowest depths.

“…What was the cause of death?”

At the question from the deathly pale boy, Iryn responded in a subdued voice.

“After Your Grace was sent to the principality, his abilities went out of control. I heard that he took his own life. Considering that he remained calm even during his outburst, it’s likely he anticipated his end. So please, don’t burden yourself with unnecessary guilt….”

Strangely, her voice sounded distant—so very distant.

Sia remained silent long after Iryn finished speaking.

Then, suddenly, he burst into laughter.

A clear, inappropriate laugh for the situation.

But not long after, he started dry heaving.

Unable to suppress the nausea, he convulsed several times before pressing his forehead against the thick rug and mumbling.

“He’s dead. He’s really dead. Just like Mother and Father, Vivi is gone too… I’ll never see him again. Never again….”

As Herel’s sobs filled the air, Sia repeated the words, trying to grasp the weight of losing someone who had loved him.

He repeated it over and over, until his mind could finally accept it.

Tears, neither warm nor cold, streamed down his pale cheeks without end.

Losing someone you love is not something you can simply accept with composure.

And even if you could, Sia knew he could never—never—remain indifferent to Vivisian’s death.

Of course not.

Because Sia had loved Vivisian so, so much…

✽ ✽ ✽

Sia cried until he collapsed from exhaustion.

He couldn’t accept the death and lost consciousness, choosing instead to shut out reality.

Even after waking, he remained dazed for a long time.

The palace servants whispered among themselves, wondering if they should bring Vivisian’s body back to the principality and hold a funeral there.

Herel, who had stayed by Sia’s side until he woke, spoke to him once the boy had calmed down—his eyes still swollen from endless tears.

“Lord Hesia, I’m returning to the Empire. I plan to clear Lord Vivisian’s name.”

He was going back to reveal the truth about Vivisian’s innocence.

At first, Sia insisted he would go too.

But the idea was dismissed outright—people were in an uproar, saying it was nonsense.

More than anyone, Herel was firm in his refusal.

“Think of Lord Vivisian. Do you truly believe he would have wanted you to return?”

“……”

Faced with Herel’s unwavering words, Sia couldn’t bring himself to say no.

He only wept.

Until the day Herel left for the Empire, he continued to make a solemn promise to the grieving boy.

That everyone who had treated Vivisian unjustly would regret it.

That he would turn them into ghosts, forever tormented by the guilt of what they had done.

…Just like him—unable to let go of the one who died too easily, dreaming of him every night.

Like him—left to replay Vivisian’s final words over and over, chasing after thoughts of what the man must have felt.

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