Chapter 149: The Debt Nikolai Never Stopped Owing

"Do you honestly think you were the only one responsible for what happened tonight?" Mikhail asked, looking at his younger brother with a mixture of frustration and disbelief.

Nikolai frowned. "I didn’t say that."

"You don’t have to say it. You’re sitting there apologizing as though I was the only person who got embarrassed at the Red Lounge. What about you? Did you somehow escape the humiliation while I wasn’t looking?"

"That’s different."

"How?"

Nikolai opened his mouth, but no answer came.

Mikhail let out a quiet breath and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. "I don’t understand why you keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Acting as though my feelings matter more than yours. As though I’m the only one who’s allowed to be hurt, angry, or disappointed. You keep putting everything on yourself, even when it has nothing to do with you alone."

Nikolai’s expression changed, and Mikhail could practically see him preparing to argue. But, as usual, the younger prince swallowed whatever response had come to mind.

That only made Mikhail more frustrated.

He knew why Nikolai behaved this way. He had known for years, ever since they were children, and understanding the reason didn’t make it any easier to bear. When they were young, Mikhail had saved Nikolai from drowning.

The incident had happened because Nikolai refused to heed his warning when he told him the river was too dangerous to swim in. Stubborn and determined to prove his older brother wrong, Nikolai had jumped straight into the water, only to find himself struggling against the current. Mikhail hadn’t hesitated to jump in after him, even though he could barely swim well enough to save himself. In the end, his attempt to rescue Nikolai had nearly cost him his own life as well.

Fortunately, one of their guards had noticed their absence and come looking for them. Upon finding them struggling in the water, he immediately rushed to their aid and managed to pull them both out before it was too late.

It was an event neither of them had ever truly forgotten, although they had dealt with its consequences in very different ways.

For Mikhail, it had been something he had done because Nikolai was his brother, and he couldn’t stand by and watch him drown. He had never considered it a debt that needed to be repaid, nor had he expected Nikolai to spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it. Nikolai, however, had never seemed to see it discomfort. Ever since that day, his younger brother had treated him as though Mikhail could never be wrong and his happiness was a responsibility Nikolai could never afford to neglect. He rarely argued with him anymore, even over the most trivial things.

If Mikhail expressed a preference, Nikolai would immediately accommodate it, regardless of what he wanted himself. If they disagreed about something, Nikolai would often surrender before the argument had even begun. He would swallow his frustrations, hide his disappointment, and pretend that everything was fine as long as Mikhail wasn’t upset. Even when they were making decisions that affected both of them, Nikolai had a habit of placing his own wishes last. He would defend Mikhail without hesitation, take responsibility for mistakes they had made together, and quietly shoulder blame that wasn’t entirely his to carry. Sometimes, Mikhail suspected his brother would willingly make himself miserable if he believed doing so would spare Mikhail even the slightest discomfort.

And Mikhail hated it.

Not because he didn’t appreciate his brother’s love and concern, but because he missed the person Nikolai had been before that terrible incident had changed the way he saw their relationship.

He missed the little boy who used to argue with him over everything. The one who would snatch toys from his hands, insist that his own ideas were better, and refuse to back down even when Mikhail was certain he was right. They had fought over the most ridiculous things, from which game to play to who deserved the last piece of dessert. Nikolai had been stubborn, competitive, and completely unafraid to tell his elder twin when he thought he was being unreasonable.

Those arguments had sometimes driven Mikhail mad, but he would give almost anything to have them back.

He wanted his brother to disagree with him when he genuinely disagreed. He wanted Nikolai to tell him when he was angry instead of pretending that nothing bothered him. He wanted to hear his brother complain, argue, and demand things for himself without first considering whether doing so might inconvenience Mikhail.

Most of all, he wanted Nikolai to understand that saving his life had never meant he expected him to spend the rest of his own trying to repay the debt.

Yet every time Mikhail tried to make him understand, Nikolai seemed to interpret it as another reason to try harder.

And tonight, watching him apologize for what was supposed to be their shared humiliation, Mikhail couldn’t help wondering how much of his brother’s anger was directed at himself and how much came from the belief that he had failed to protect Mikhail from something unpleasant.

"Listen to me," Mikhail said, drawing Nikolai’s attention back to him. "You didn’t force me to agree to that corrective listening program. You didn’t make me participate in the arrangement. In fact, I thought it was a great idea and agreed to it too, remember? We decided to go ahead with it together, Nikolai. If Starlight made us look ridiculous, then we both have to accept that we misjudged her."

"But if I hadn’t suggested the program—"

"Stop it already."

Nikolai fell silent immediately.

Mikhail held his gaze. "Enough. I’m not interested in hearing you take responsibility for every single thing that goes wrong between us. I can make my own decisions, Nikolai. I can handle my own mistakes, and I can survive being embarrassed in public. You don’t have to carry the weight of every unpleasant thing that happens to me."

His brother looked down at his hands.

Mikhail thought he might argue again. Instead, Nikolai remained silent, his fingers twisting together as he struggled with whatever he wanted to say.

Mikhail’s frustration slowly gave way to something heavier. He loved his brother.

He would never deny that, and he had never regretted jumping into the river to save him. But sometimes, he wished Nikolai could love him a little less like a debt that could never be repaid and a little more like the brother he had once been. He wished he could convince him that Mikhail didn’t need to be protected from every disappointment, nor did he want a brother who would agree with him simply because he was afraid of upsetting him.

He wanted Nikolai to be himself again. He just didn’t know how to bring that version of him back.