Scandalous Wedding Chapter 8.1

The garden of the Chester Marquisate, stepping into the heart of summer, was brimming with vibrant green hues. Under the dazzling sunlight, Asha, who had been strolling through the familiar garden filled with yellow, red, and white flowers, soon exchanged greetings with the family members who came out to welcome him with warm faces.

“Asha, come here!”

As expected, Helena was the first to rush forward, embracing Asha with a greeting, and Asha returned the hug warmly.

“Yes. Did you get back safely yesterday?”

Concerned because their carriage had broken down, Asha asked if everything was alright, and Helena, releasing the embrace, responded.

“We hitched a ride on Joan’s carriage, so no need to worry. But what brings you here? You said you wouldn’t be back for a while.”

“There’s a book I urgently need to find in Uncle’s study.”

“A book?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then, go have a look.”

Rauel didn’t like others freely entering his study, but for one person alone—Asha—he opened it wide without hesitation. After all, the books in that study were all to be passed down to Asha, so he told him to look through them whenever he pleased.

“Welcome, young master.”

As Asha and his mother finished their conversation, Neira finally greeted him with a smile. At the warm greeting from his dear sister-in-law, Asha approached her with a bright smile.

“Sister-in-law, I’m sorry I couldn’t greet you properly yesterday.”

“Everyone was so hectic yesterday. I’m just glad to see you looking healthy.”

“Yes, I’ve been eating well, sleeping well, and staying healthy. But, are those Leo and Marcel behind you?”

Spotting a small child hiding behind Neira and a slightly older boy, Asha asked, and Neira introduced the child clinging to her skirt.

“Yes, that’s right. Leo, Marcel, this is your uncle. Leo, do you remember?”

“Yes. It’s been a while, Uncle.”

Asha warmly received the greeting from his nephew, who had grown so much in the past four years.

“Wow, you’ve grown so much. I wouldn’t recognize you on the street. Are you twelve now?”

“Yes. My birthday passed last month, so I’m twelve. You look the same, Uncle.”

“I’m all grown up now.”

Saying he couldn’t grow any more, Asha exchanged greetings with his older nephew before lowering his gaze to the small child clinging to Neira’s skirt.

“Nice to see you, Marcel. It’s the first time since you were a baby.”

Reaching out for a handshake with excitement, the small child hesitated, looking up at Neira. At the child’s glance, as if asking if it was okay to greet, Neira nodded, and the child cautiously extended a hand from behind her. Seeing that tiny, chubby hand, Asha couldn’t help but smile softly and gently took it.

It was at that moment.

The sound of hoofbeats echoed from afar.

Turning to the vigorous sound of someone riding swiftly, as if on urgent business, Asha saw three people approaching on horseback.

It was Allen and two knights from the imperial guard.

“Goodness, what’s he doing here at this hour? He said he wouldn’t be back for a while…”

As Neira muttered in confusion, Allen, who had already reached the front of the mansion, leapt off his horse. Without even catching his breath, he hurriedly spoke.

“Mother, you’re out here. Asha, you’re here too…”

Sweating profusely from riding so hard in the heat, Allen first greeted Helena before turning to Asha standing in front of him.

Allen had already heard from Kiel that Asha would return to the mansion today. He’d been told that, due to certain circumstances, he’d be sent back for now, but in three days, he had to be returned to the capital without fail. If he wasn’t sent back or was diverted elsewhere in the meantime, there’d be consequences.

“Allen, what’s going on? You’re sweating so much.”

“I have to leave for an urgent trip today. Neira, please help me prepare. I need to cross the Mason Empire’s border by midnight tomorrow.”

At Allen’s sudden words, Asha tilted his head.

“That’s a bit impossible…”

It took at least four days to travel from the capital to the Mason Empire’s border. Of course, it wasn’t entirely impossible if you rode through the night, but it was unrealistic. You could switch horses at relay stations, but people get exhausted. Pushing too hard could lead to falling off the horse.

And taking a carriage wasn’t an option either—the roads were too limited for shortcuts.

Having served at that border himself, Asha shook his head, saying it wouldn’t work, but Allen waved his hand dismissively, as if there was no time to argue.

“This isn’t the time to debate. I just have to go.”

“Why?”

“Why? That damned emper—”

Allen nearly spat out a curse but quickly shut his mouth. At the morning meeting, Kiel had assigned impossible tasks to the entire special audit team.

All for the sake of a royal marriage.

Fine, alright. That’s fine. A royal marriage—how wonderful. Especially since the protagonist of this marriage was none other than Rubin Paddington. It was so wonderful it was driving him mad.

And the idea of secretly “inviting” Rubin Paddington to his own wedding without him knowing? That was great too. Honestly, it was such a Kiel-like idea that it wasn’t even surprising.

The problem was why he had to be the one to deliver the news. According to Kiel, sending his closest confidant—Allen—and the bridegroom’s brother-in-law, Esael, would have the best effect. But this was clearly spite, revenge. It was a way to screw over Allen, who had opposed his relationship with Asha.

The proof? Being told to cover a four-day journey in two days. And to top it off, Kiel had pettily added that he’d check the exact time they crossed the border. What a ridiculous jerk.

Because of this, as soon as the meeting ended, Allen and Esael had to ride like mad to their respective estates, practically pulling their hair out. He’d wanted to leave right away, but he had to pack lightly and inform the household, so he’d rushed here.

Thinking it all through made his blood boil.

He was the eldest son of the Chester Marquisate, a progressive talent of the Grapa School, a next-generation leader meant to guide this country. The same went for his friends. If their mentors knew what Kiel was making them do, they’d faint in shock.

He and Esael had to race to the Mason Empire’s border until their bodies gave out. McGain and Luke had to sneak into the Paddington Duchy with sleeping pills and laxatives, drugging Rubin’s messengers with the former and slipping the latter to the duke himself.

Meanwhile, Krune had to sabotage every carriage in the Paddington estate, and the others had to quickly form a committee to prepare for the royal marriage. Since Rubin was to be married off as a son-in-law, the wedding was to take place in Freesdale, so they had to handle those preparations too.

No need to discuss it—the wedding was set for two weeks from now. For those two weeks, the country’s finest talents had to rack their brains to ensure Rubin walked into his wedding completely unaware.

The continent’s greatest minds, gathered under Kiel, were doing this. At this rate, Allen couldn’t tell if he was part of the emperor’s special audit team or some street thug.

In a fleeting moment of self-loathing, as Allen suddenly grappled with his identity, Asha asked.

“Emper—what?”

“Emper…”

Unable to contain the surge of emotions, Allen opened his mouth again but couldn’t bring himself to tell Asha’s innocent face that the emperor was trying to scam the entire country. He quickly changed the subject.

“…Nothing. It’s nothing.”

As he brushed it off, Neira asked him.

“Why are you suddenly going to the Mason Empire?”

“That, I can’t say.”

“What?”

“It’s a special order given only to the audit team. We were strictly told the details must not leak.”

Kiel had already made it clear that the reason for this trip must not be shared, even with family. Then he’d shaken a bottle of laxatives with a smile, implying that if word got out, he’d track them down to the ends of the earth and force-feed them laxatives for a year.

Realizing this, everyone vowed to keep their mouths shut. Especially Krune, known for his loose lips, had muttered about gluing his mouth shut.

“…Anyway, the details will be announced soon. Just know it’s about a royal marriage.”

Since he couldn’t say more, Allen told them to leave it at that, and everyone’s eyes widened in shock.

“A royal marriage?”

When Asha asked in surprise, Allen nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Are they really doing it?”

“Yep. Just know that much for now. I need to pack. Asha, you go rest.”

Hurriedly picking up Marcel, Allen strode into the building. Then, as if remembering something, he stopped and turned to Asha.

“Asha, be careful in your quarters. There are still a lot of traps and snares set up because of Kiel. When we cleaned the place knowing you were coming back, Eddie and Malin got caught—Eddie was stuck in a pit all day, and Malin was hanging from the ceiling for half a day.”

Just how many traps did Uncle and Father set? Allen shook his head. The various traps, installed to stop Kiel from sneaking over the walls at dawn, were still producing victims left and right.

Except Kiel had never once been caught in them. It was like he could fly.

Thinking about it, Kiel truly was the root of all evil.

Shaking his head in exasperation, Allen hurried into the mansion.

Following his urgent steps, Asha called out to Helena before entering the building.

“Mother.”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to Uncle’s study first.”

Rauel lived alone in the eastern annex, not the main building, and his study was there too.

Since it was a bit of a distance, when Asha said he’d head straight there, Helena grabbed him, sounding a little disappointed.

“Why? Have some tea first.”

“I’m in a hurry. Brother, have a safe trip. Oh, and don’t take the Alpen Mountains for the shortest route. There are a lot of bears there.”

Warning him not to get mauled in his rush, Asha shared an important detail, and Allen flinched.

“Bears?”

“Yeah. Be careful there. Take the valley route instead. If you cut through the valley, you can shave half a day’s travel down to about two hours.”

“Isn’t the valley dangerous?”

Isn’t it flooding season? he asked, but Asha shook his head.

“That area’s actually in the dry season now, so the water’s low. You’d need to be careful in autumn. Just follow the stream uphill.”

Having patrolled that border and explored the area with Kiel, he was certain. Plus, it was safe, he added. With that, Asha left the main building, crossed the garden, and headed for the eastern annex.

It seemed he needed to hurry with his wish application.

* * *

Having finished the afternoon’s schedule, Kiel sat alone in his office, rhythmically tapping the armrest of his chair with his fingertips.

If all went according to plan, Rubin would now be clutching his stomach, suffering from violent diarrhea courtesy of McGain’s laced drink, a condition that would persist for the next week. In the meantime, all his carriages would break down, and his messengers would either be fast asleep or suffering similar stomach issues, ensuring he wouldn’t dare attempt anything foolish for a while.

If he recovered too quickly, they could just dose him again.

Thus, the troublesome bachelor uncle was slated to be sold off to the Mason Empire for a bargain price.

Now, the issue was Alicia. Once Rubin was dragged off to the Mason Empire, he’d become a prince-consort there and receive a new title. That would leave the Paddington Dukedom vacant, meaning Alicia, the only daughter of the previous duke, would inherit all the family’s wealth and title.

The lands, riches, and military power of the Paddington Dukedom were not to be underestimated. If Alicia got her hands on all that, she’d undoubtedly pack it up and charge toward becoming empress.

“Empress…”

The moment he uttered the word, something zipped through his mind.

Like a pesky fly.

But he couldn’t quite catch what it was.

There was a brilliant solution, tantalizingly close yet just out of reach, and the frustration made Kiel’s fingers tap faster on the armrest.

Alicia’s obsession with becoming empress stemmed from the ambitions of the late former Duke Paddington and Rubin’s brainwashing. Growing up hearing nothing but “empress” since childhood, it had transcended a mere goal and become her reality, blurring the line between fact and fantasy.

The physician who examined Alicia had said there was no cure. The only treatment was to narrow the gap between reality and delusion.

But the problem was how to narrow that gap—there seemed to be no way to do it.

If her delusion was simply about entering the imperial palace, he could find some workaround. But her fixation was on being empress. That was something he absolutely couldn’t compromise on.

He’d had his sights set on Asha for that role for seventeen years—there was no way he’d let some latecomer snatch it away.

“There isn’t exactly a spare empress position lying around…”

With a sigh, he muttered the words, and once again, something zipped through his mind. This time, he caught it.

“…Right… Why shouldn’t there be another one?”

The solution slipped out naturally, and like fireworks, plans to make it happen exploded into his mind.

“I really am too brilliant.”

Sometimes even I get tired of my own perfection, Kiel thought, indulging in self-praise, when a knock came from outside the office.

“Your Majesty, Sir McGain Hammington has arrived.”

At the arrival of McGain, tasked with today’s most critical mission, Kiel greeted him with a rare warmth in his voice.

“Come in.”

The door opened at his prompt reply, and McGain stepped inside, approaching the desk and offering a courteous bow.

“McGain Hammington, at Your Majesty’s service.”

“Enough with the formalities. So?”

We’re not strangers, so there’s no need to waste time on pleasantries—just get to the point, Kiel chided, and McGain delivered the news he’d been waiting for.

“Everything was handled perfectly, as ordered.”

Kiel looked at McGain, whose eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, with satisfaction. Trained since childhood, McGain had become an expert at slipping drugs into drinks. He was a good liar, too.

Well raised.

But there was one issue…

“What about Luke?”

McGain was supposed to dose Rubin’s drink with laxatives while Luke slipped sleeping pills to Rubin’s messengers and steward. So where was he, and what was he doing? Kiel asked, and McGain’s face darkened.

“He accidentally took the sleeping pills while dosing the messengers and collapsed. We sent him home for now.”

“Why the hell would he take them?”

Not knowing the drink was drugged was one thing, but knowingly taking the pills was plain stupidity, no matter how you looked at it.

What kind of idiot is he? Kiel snapped, and McGain mumbled uncertainly.

“Well… yeah…”

He agreed verbally, but having once accidentally ingested laxatives meant for an enemy, suffering diarrhea for a week, McGain couldn’t fully blame Luke’s foolishness.

He just felt sorry for him.

“None of you can do anything right.”

McGain wanted to say normal people don’t go around drugging others with laxatives or sleeping pills, but that was pointless now. As he hung his head, Kiel, clicking his tongue in frustration, changed the subject.

“So, what’s the state of Duke Paddington?”

“The last I saw, his face was yellow, and he was sprinting to the bathroom. He won’t step foot outside his mansion for a while.”

“Good. But he needs to recover before the wedding, so check on him occasionally. I’ve prepared an antidote just in case—if he’s still like that by the wedding, give it to him.”

Give him the disease and then the cure? The words nearly slipped out, but McGain, as always, calmly swallowed them.

“I’ll monitor him carefully.”

These guys could handle that much, so Kiel didn’t interfere further and issued his next order.

“The Mason Empire wedding will be handled by Allen and Esael. From now on, you have three days to thoroughly investigate the Valpen Empire’s royal family, gather information on their emperor, and get me his portrait. Exactly three days.”

At Kiel’s command to dig into the royal family of the Valpen Empire—a tiny nation on the far side of the continent, barely worthy of the name “empire”—McGain furrowed his brow.

Information on foreign royals was standard. It was expected, just as other nations routinely gathered intelligence on Freesdale’s imperial family.

It was essential for diplomacy, so there was nothing odd about it. The problem was that Kiel didn’t want normal information.

“If I may ask, what exactly are you looking for?”

Don’t beat around the bush—just say what you want, McGain pressed, and Kiel sighed, as if annoyed he had to spell it out.

“Exactly what I said. Information on the Valpen royal family.”

“Not, say, the name of the dog the Valpen emperor had as a kid or tracking down its descendants?”

Was he planning to kidnap one of those descendants and send it as a “gift”? McGain’s logical suspicion, based on experience, made Kiel’s eyes glint.

“Could you find that out if I asked?”

“Well…”

McGain started to protest—it’d take half a month to reach Valpen—when Kiel cut him off.

“No need, I already know. The dog Emperor Felipe III had from age three to ten was named Balmang, and he’s currently raising seventeen of its descendants. They’re not exactly loose enough to be kidnapped, so I don’t need that info. Besides, the emperor’s favorite animal is actually horses.”

He only keeps dogs because he’s allergic to hay, Kiel explained with excessive detail, and McGain genuinely recoiled.

“Where do you even get that kind of information?”

“Want to know?”

“…No.”

“Good choice.”

Don’t waste your curiosity on useless things, Kiel said with a sly smile, and McGain felt a sudden wave of unease.

Kiel hadn’t been in a great mood during the meeting, but now he was practically giddy. And when Kiel was happy, it usually meant someone else was suffering.

“But why the sudden interest in Valpen’s royal family?”

They’re not exactly close allies with Freesdale, so what’s this about? McGain asked, and Kiel leaned forward, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“I realized something important recently.”

“What’s that?”

“Royal marriages are a wonderful thing.”

At Kiel’s soft whisper, McGain instantly grasped the implication.

It seemed Kiel had found a new way to dispose of annoyances. Starting with Rubin, he was set to ship off any bothersome relatives to foreign lands under the guise of royal marriages.

When you thought about it, royalty had it rough.

But that was their problem, and from this side, it was a fine strategy. Sending troublesome, scandal-prone royals into exile abroad was a decent plan.

“I’ll do my best to gather everything I can.”

With a grim determination to uncover every detail, McGain vowed, and Kiel flashed a dazzling smile.

It was the face of a man who’d just cleared a decade’s worth of indigestion. That smile was also a harbinger of wails to come from various quarters.

And it meant a rough road ahead for McGain, too.

“Oh, one more thing. Stop that rumor and spread a new one.”

“…Rumor?”

Which one? McGain asked, and Kiel looked at him with a pitying gaze.

“The one about Duke Paddington being impotent and, well, small. Say it’s all false. The Mason Empire would be offended if they heard it.”

Only then did McGain recall the rumor they’d spread about five years ago.

The real reason Rubin, with his fine family and decent looks, remained unmarried at his age was Kiel’s sabotage. Sure, Rubin’s abrasive and domineering personality turned off most women, but there were always a few with peculiar tastes who liked that sort of thing. He’d nearly married a few times, but whenever he got close, Kiel spread rumors—“He’s impotent,” “It’s really small”—completely blocking Rubin’s path to marriage.

Thanks to those whispers, which spread nationwide without Rubin’s knowledge, he faced inexplicable broken engagements or rejections before he could even propose. Eventually, he declared he’d never marry.

Of course, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to—he couldn’t. But for pride’s sake, he’d reinvented himself as a dashing bachelor.

But that was over now.

“Send word through the Grapa School’s emergency network to spread the new rumor within days. Say Duke Paddington is perfectly healthy, chaste, and… well, well-endowed.”

“…Have you seen it?”

Despite the age gap being small, they’d grown up like uncle and nephew, so McGain asked out of curiosity, and Kiel grimaced.

“Why would I look at that hideous thing?”

Then why say it’s big? McGain almost asked but stopped, realizing the answer.

If they could spread a rumor it was small, why not one saying it was big?

“…I’ll handle it immediately.”

“Good.”

With a gentle smile, Kiel leaned back in his chair, humming a tune.

His face radiated joy at having ruined his uncle’s life.

In that moment, McGain silently repeated the vow he’d held for twenty years.

Even if I fall out with my parents, I’ll never cross Kiel.

* * *

The sun set in an instant.

Despite the longer summer days, it had gone down while Asha was rummaging through the study.

After Kiel’s kidnapping incident, Asha had been staying in the southern annex for seventeen years. Returning with an armful of necessary books and old documents, he hurriedly lit a lamp as the sky darkened.

Eating a simple meal of bread, he continued working on his wish application, but progress was slower than expected.

He knew exactly which book and page contained the information he needed and what to excerpt, but somehow, it was dragging.

Too many stray thoughts.

“Hmm…”

Pausing his busy hand, Asha chewed on the end of his pen.

A “royal marriage” surely meant a union between the royalty or nobility of two nations. And the only direct member of Freesdale’s imperial family right now was Kiel…

“Ah…”

Thinking of a royal marriage made his chest sting, as if pricked.

It definitely hurt more than it had with Alicia. The physician had said that if there was nothing physically wrong, it was psychological, and removing the psychological cause would stop the pain.

“A royal marriage…”

If it wasn’t a domestic marriage but one with a foreign royal family, it wouldn’t be easy to overturn. A royal marriage was exactly that—a union between nations, utterly detached from personal desires.

Chewing the pen tip, Asha began to ponder his situation.

He’d paused these thoughts because he was busy and annoyed, but if he didn’t resolve them, no matter how well-prepared his materials were, he’d struggle to finish the wish application.

So, he went back to the beginning and started organizing his thoughts.

He didn’t like Alicia. He liked the idea of a royal marriage even less. Logically, that meant he didn’t want Kiel to marry.

But why didn’t he want Kiel to marry?

Reaching that point, Asha looked down at the wish application he’d been writing, pen still in his mouth.

Calmly recalling why he’d started this, he let out a sudden gasp.

“Ah!”

Sorting it out coldly and logically, the answer came instantly.

The reason he was so determined to change marriage laws and hated hearing about Kiel’s potential marriages could only be explained one way.

“…I want to marry His Majesty.”

When he was very young, Kiel would sometimes grab him and urge him to marry him. He’d bring piles of sweet, crunchy treats made by Guiness, the head chef of the imperial palace—his favorite—and tempt him, saying if he married him, he could eat them forever. When Asha nodded in agreement, Kiel would hand him one treat at a time, extracting promise after promise.

Now that he thought about it, he must’ve made that promise thousands of times. By age five, he’d already mastered ancient languages, and his uncle, recognizing his talent, began teaching him law and philosophy. He knew about marriage laws, but he didn’t yet grasp the concept of gender. He’d thought that if either he or Kiel wore a dress, they could just get married.

He realized that wasn’t possible at seven. Right after the infamous steamed bun theft incident that shook the nation, his father and uncle had sat together, saying, “If he’d been a girl, we’d have just betrothed him to Kiel. Being a boy, I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse.” That’s when Asha understood he couldn’t marry Kiel.

And only then did he understand. It wasn’t that wearing a dress made someone a woman or wearing trousers made someone a man—it was that men and women differed in their reproductive functions.

Until now, even though he knew Kiel had to marry, he hadn’t really minded because he’d never thought about it in detail. Honestly, with that prickly personality, marriage wouldn’t come easily for Kiel. And both Kiel and he were far too late to the game to be thinking about marriage now—maybe he’d been too complacent, assuming it wouldn’t happen at this point.

But when concrete talk of marriage arose and Alicia appeared, the issue started to hit home as a reality.

That’s why he felt it was wrong.

So, there was only one conclusion.

“I’ll just change the law.”

With a sudden surge of determination, Asha picked up the pen he’d chewed to bits and began moving his eyes and hands diligently again. He had to get the wish application approved as soon as possible. To do that, he’d have to resort to a workaround.

He’d skip all the intermediate steps, complete the wish application by tonight, and submit it directly to his uncle, the high priest.

Normally, that wouldn’t be allowed, but as a high-ranking member of the Holy Knights and the son of the Chester Marquisate, it was entirely feasible.

There was no time now. He had to submit the wish application before the Mason Empire sent a response about the royal marriage.

With his thoughts organized, Asha’s hand began moving swiftly again.

So, he didn’t hear it.

The thudding sound from outside the door and the muffled scream of a gruff man.

* * *

As soon as the sun set, the moon rose, and now even the moon was beginning to tilt.

Asha, who had been sitting at his desk with the window open, a lamp lit, and poring over books, felt the humid heat and fanned his neck with his hand.

It was swelteringly unbearable, even at night. He hadn’t noticed it in the marble-built imperial palace, but back at the Chester Marquisate, the heat was palpable on his skin.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead roughly with his sleeve, Asha kept moving his pen busily until he noticed the nib was dry. Lifting his gaze, he looked at the ink bottle in front of him.

The small glass bottle of ink was already showing its bottom.

“Damn.”

He must’ve grabbed a nearly empty bottle from his uncle’s study. He rummaged through the desk drawers for fresh ink, but, as expected, the desk was completely empty.

Of course. He’d taken everything with him when he left four years ago. And right now, his belongings were still tied up in the capital.

“Maybe there’s some in the storeroom…”

Now that he thought about it, his throat felt dry, too. Setting the pen down, he stood and crossed the study. Planning to grab a glass of water from the kitchen and head to the first-floor storeroom, he opened the door. In the hallway, something was dangling.

The corridor was dark, so he couldn’t tell what it was at first. Going back inside to grab his lamp and holding it up, he confirmed it was a man in black clothing hanging from the high ceiling.

“Who’s that?”

Asha tilted his head and asked, noticing the man’s masked face and suspicious attire, but the man, still hanging, kept his mouth firmly shut.

Definitely not a servant. He didn’t know every servant’s face, but the Chester Marquisate provided specific uniforms for its staff. This was to prevent outsiders from sneaking in disguised as servants and causing trouble.

But the clothes the dangling man wore weren’t those of the Chester Marquisate’s servants.

Convinced he wasn’t a servant, Asha stared at him, but as the man continued his silence, Asha passed by as if he had no time for this.

“Well, if you don’t want to talk, just keep hanging there.”

It wasn’t his business anyway. Avoiding the side where the man dangled, Asha crossed the hallway toward the storeroom where miscellaneous items were kept.

The corridor, somewhat cluttered from years of disuse, led him toward the storeroom when a strange groan came from below.

Stopping to check, he saw a section of the floor ahead had caved in.

It seemed someone had fallen into one of the pits his father had set up.

Allen had warned him to watch out for traps in the annex, so Asha approached the hole and looked down. Another man, dressed similarly to the dangling one, reached up toward him but stopped.

“Lots of guests tonight.”

Definitely not a servant this time either, Asha tilted his head and asked.

“What’s going on? This is the most remote corner of the Chester Marquisate—hardly a place people stumble into.”

Despite Asha’s polite question, the man below didn’t answer either.

“Well… if you want to stay down there, I can’t help you.”

Since he wasn’t a household servant, there was no reason to rescue him. Asha moved to step around the pit when the man below called out.

“Get me out, and I’ll talk.”

Even in this moment, trying to negotiate. Asha squatted by the pit, aiming his lamp downward, and tilted his head.

“Not that curious, actually.”

He wasn’t in a rush. The one in a hurry was the guy down there.

Seeming to realize Asha had no intention of pulling him out, whether he talked or not, the man softened his tone slightly.

“…Just had some business here.”

“At this hour? What kind?”

“…”

“Call me when you feel like talking. I’ll leave the door open.”

Good luck, Asha said, and calmly continued on his way.

Those traps were set by his father to catch Kiel, so they wouldn’t be easy to escape. Left until morning, the servants coming to work would handle it.

More precisely, Nob, who was used to this sort of thing, would take care of it. Up until four years ago, he’d often pulled servants out of traps.

Leaving the rest to others, Asha headed to the storeroom at the corner of the second floor and slowly turned the doorknob. Without hesitation, he pushed the door open, and something moved swiftly inside.

A shadow rushed toward him at high speed. Instinctively, Asha raised his right elbow, striking the attacker’s solar plexus.

A short scream followed. Stepping back, he spun and kicked the staggering figure in the neck. A dull thud echoed as the figure collapsed to the floor.

Confirming the attacker was down, Asha held up his lamp and peered into the storeroom. Empty for four years, the bare floor held only a man in black, sprawled out flat.

“What’s been going on here while I was gone?”

This was unusual.

This annex, tucked away in the southernmost corner of the estate, had nothing worth stealing. Especially since he’d been away for four years.

Valuable items in the household were kept in the main building’s storeroom, and rare books were in his uncle’s study in the eastern annex. If someone wanted to steal, they’d go there—not to this isolated building.

In fact, aside from cleaning, even servants rarely came here. They called it creepy.

For people to sneak in dressed like this, they’d have prepared thoroughly, but there was no reason for them to target this building. Which meant they definitely weren’t thieves…

To disarm the fallen man, Asha took the sword from his waist, sheath and all. Feeling the sword’s familiar weight, he held the lamp to check the crest on the sheath.

“Paddington…”

The emblem of two red roses and two black horses was unmistakably the Paddington Dukedom’s.

“Hmm.”

Even if relations were strained, why would the Paddington Dukedom attack the Chester Marquisate? Puzzled, Asha looked at the man, deciding he couldn’t leave this be. Sword in hand, he stepped back into the corridor.

Raising the lamp to illuminate the hallway, he saw a shabby corridor that looked like a ghost might pop out any moment.

Come to think of it, he’d adapted quickly to the spooky vibe of Baikan’s mansion because it felt similar to this annex.

He hadn’t always lived in this remote building. As a child, he’d stayed in a small, cozy house right next to the main building. Everything there was tiny—the house, the furniture, the bed.

All tailored to a child of about ten, it was barely navigable for average adults, and tall people had to hunch over to move around.

That house, built with exorbitant care down to every piece of furniture, was a gift from Kiel. He’d heard much later that no one had wanted it, but Kiel had insisted on giving it to him. It was filled with Kiel’s less-than-innocent desire to play alone with him in a place adults couldn’t easily enter.

Still, Asha had loved that house. When friends his age visited, it was the thing they envied and adored most. For a while, it sparked a trend among noble families to build small houses sized for children, but none were as intricate or beautiful as his. He’d loved it so much that even as he grew, he’d wished he could keep living there.

But after the kidnapping incident on his seventh birthday, he could no longer stay there. To avoid Kiel, he was moved to this secretive building, the hardest for Kiel to find, and his father set up all sorts of traps around it.

Yet Asha liked this place, too. It was quiet, perfect for reading, with few people around. Nob called it rundown and hated it, but even after the kidnapping risk faded, Asha had no desire to move. Above all, it held fond memories of Kiel sneaking over the wall to sleep with him as a child, making him all the more attached.

But his affection didn’t mean there was anything special here. As Nob put it, this was no proper marquisate annex—it was a genuinely shabby, dilapidated building that looked impoverished. Honestly, it was only slightly better than Baikan’s haunted mansion.

So remote and still rigged with Kiel-specific traps that hadn’t been disarmed, even the knights didn’t patrol nearby. They kept getting caught in garden traps during early morning rounds.

In fact, his father had fallen into them a few times, too.

“Still, getting this far deserves some credit.”

Whatever their goal, it was impressive, Asha thought, praising them as he stepped outside, sword in his right hand, lamp in his left, stretching broadly.

After sitting and reading all day, his body felt creaky. He considered just going to bed, but the black-masked figures on the floor, ceiling, and storeroom were a problem.

“Ugh, what a hassle…”

They could’ve come tomorrow, he muttered, moving again.

If they were simple thieves, fine, but with swords involved, he’d have to call the knights to handle it.

Annoying as it was, he needed ink anyway, so he hurried toward the main building when a rustling sound caught his ear.

Grass. He wasn’t particularly sharp-eared, but it was unmistakable.

No breeze stirred this early morning, so the grass shouldn’t be moving.

With a strange feeling, Asha slowly raised his lamp toward the sound. As light spilled into the dark garden, shapes of black figures hiding in the shadows began to emerge.

Once, during a thief crackdown in the capital, they’d rounded up a gang of robbers, and it turned out several noble families were involved, causing a stir.

The nobles hadn’t formed the gang but backed them, taking half the stolen goods or pilfering letters and documents from rivals.

He recalled that priests were implicated, too, and the Holy Knights had handled the case, so he remembered it clearly. This group seemed to be tied to the Paddington Dukedom.

“Hmm…”

Wondering if the Paddington Dukedom had fallen on hard times, Asha set the lamp safely on the ground. Then he gripped the sword’s handle tightly.

He didn’t want to spill blood after coming home after so long, so he debated striking with the sheathed sword or drawing it. As he hesitated, the lurking black figures surged forward all at once.

Reacting to their swift movements, Asha instinctively swung the sheathed sword, striking one man’s face. The sheer force sent him crashing down with a tremendous noise, and Asha winced.

He hadn’t meant to hit that hard.

That’s gotta hurt, he thought, worrying, when another man charged from the right. As the shadowy figure lunged, Asha reflexively spun and kicked, but oddly, a scream came from the left.

Turning, he saw a man on the left, caught in a net, dangling in the air.

“Oh, if you get caught there, you’re not getting out…”

Recalling six years ago when Allen got stuck in one, needing five men to free him, Asha looked at the netted man with concern when another figure charged from the left.

Dodging the sudden attack by twisting right, he drew his sword and swung, forcing the man to leap back in surprise.

He hadn’t trained much lately, so his body felt heavy, but his time as a commander in Freesdale’s elite Holy Knights and imperial guard wasn’t just thanks to his family’s influence.

If nothing else, he was confident in his swordsmanship. And not just that—barehanded combat, too. There was a half-joking rumor, but he’d definitely taken down a bear with his fists once.

A small cub, sure, but still.

The opponents weren’t exactly top-tier, either. Despite their numbers, with the annex’s traps helping, he could probably clear a path.

Resolved, Asha moved with uncharacteristic agility, swinging his sword at the attackers. His precise, fluid movements briefly threw them off, but they soon regained composure and rushed him.

Dodging their faster, more coordinated attacks, Asha found himself unintentionally moving toward the garden wall lined with trees.

With summer leaves thick on the towering trees, he kept sidestepping toward them when a bad feeling hit.

The ground felt wrong.

He knew this sensation.

The sinking feeling of the earth giving way.

He’d stepped on something.

The question was whether it was a net, a rope, or a stone. Drawing on experience to quickly identify it, the ground sank further.

In that instant, Asha knew. It was a stone.

As he realized it, a massive net came crashing down. And Asha calmly assessed his situation.

“I’m screwed.”

* * *

As the moon slowly set, Kiel, awake early at dawn, sat at a small desk in his bedroom, scribbling furiously with the darkness and silence as company.

In a neat, flowing script that belied his personality yet reflected his flamboyant self-assurance, he filled three pages before setting down his pen and picking up the papers.

He read through them calmly.

“Fine prose.”

With characteristic self-praise and a satisfied smile, he folded the papers, slipped them into an envelope, and wrote the recipient and sender on it.

The recipient was Gura, a monthly tabloid summarizing the capital’s miscellaneous events. True to its name—believe it or not, as you please—it mostly carried sensational, unverified stories, a true gutter rag of high society.

Originally an illegal magazine focused on supernatural phenomena and superstitions, it gained traction among nobles, becoming a hotbed for unconfirmed scandals and fabricated stories.

From “So-and-so was secretly meeting someone” to “Someone’s gambling away their fortune and will soon go bankrupt” or “So-and-so’s having an affair,” the paper thrived on society gossip. After correctly predicting a few scandals, it drew attention, and many nobles began submitting pieces. Kiel was one of them.

Of course, he couldn’t use his real name in such a rag, so, like others, he used a pen name.

Bloodbath.

As one of Gura’s popular contributors, Bloodbath penned bold exposés mocking high society’s scandals, making him a target for nobles desperate to uncover his identity.

Some had even stormed Gura’s offices, and petitions to the palace demanding Bloodbath’s punishment poured in steadily, but Kiel ignored them all.

Because Bloodbath was him.

Petitioning him to punish himself—what a thrill. Only those who’d experienced it could understand. Even more delightful was imagining their reactions when they learned who he was.

What would they do when they found out it was him? Would they still call Bloodbath a depraved, antisocial lunatic?

Imagining that scene, Kiel grinned brightly, sealed the envelope with the recipient’s name, and placed it in a thicker leather envelope, sealing that, too. He opened his desk drawer and tucked it inside.

Woken by a sudden inspiration, he’d spent the dawn writing a piece unlike his usual articles—a beautiful, moving love story.

Ten years ago, at twenty-seven, Duke Paddington had visited the Mason Empire over a tariff issue. At a festival in their capital, he fell in love at first sight with a girl, but had to return to Freesdale the next day. Stricken with lovesickness, he’d remained unmarried for a decade, pining only for her.

Unable to imagine marrying anyone else, he’d even spread rumors about himself to stay single. Recently, seeing a portrait of the Mason Empire’s princess, he realized she was that girl from ten years ago. Overcome with emotion, he fell ill with diarrhea.

Learning the cause of his uncle’s ailment, the love-obsessed emperor sent word to the Mason Empire, earnestly requesting a royal marriage between her and his uncle. Moved by his sincerity, the Mason Empire gladly agreed.

That was the gist of the piece.

Of course, true to Gura’s style, it was entirely fabricated.

But if people believed it, great. If not, oh well.

The marriage would happen anyway, and if even one person bought the story, he’d be even more adored and praised. Plus, it’d lend legitimacy to his own marriage with Asha.

Truly, love was the best.

Everything was falling into place so perfectly, almost unintentionally, that Kiel stood up, thoroughly pleased.

The sun was just beginning to rise.

Heading to the window with a lighter step than usual to greet the rising sun, Kiel frowned at the sound of heavy footsteps echoing from afar. Such noise in the palace at this hour was a bad omen.

Clicking his tongue, wondering who’d caused trouble now, Kiel crossed his arms, looking displeased as he turned toward the door. As if on cue, a knock came.

“Your Majesty, a messenger from the Chester Marquisate has arrived.”

From the Chester Marquisate of all places—what now, at this hour? Kiel replied curtly.

“Let him in.”

Uncrossing his arms, he sat in a chair in the room. Moments later, the door opened, and a familiar face slipped through.

“Sorry to disturb you so early, Your Majesty.”

Bowing hastily without proper etiquette was Nob, Asha’s servant. Having seen him since Asha was a baby, Kiel remembered him clearly.

A very bad feeling crept in.

For the Chester Marquisate to send Asha’s attendant at this hour, it couldn’t be good news.

“What’s happened to Asha?”

Heart racing, Kiel cut straight to the point, and Nob answered immediately.

“Last night, men in black masks invaded the young master’s quarters.”

At Nob’s sudden words, Kiel thought he’d misheard and asked again.

“…What?”

“This morning, men carrying Paddington Dukedom swords were found hanging in the building’s basement and ceiling. Some were caught in the garden, too. They’ve all just been brought to the palace.”

With Nob’s detailed explanation, Kiel finally grasped the situation and leapt to his feet.

“Asha?”

His voice rose with agitation, and Nob shrank, shoulders hunching.

“Well…”

“Well, what?”

“When I got to his quarters, he was already gone.”

“Gone? Where?”

“I don’t know. He vanished without a trace.”

The dizzying answer made Kiel collapse back into his chair, head spinning.

His steamed bun, gone…

Though they’d been apart for four years, he’d always known where Asha was, so he hadn’t worried much. But to lose track of him entirely?

What if he was out there in this heat, spoiling? What if that soft, plump boy was being tortured somewhere? The thought made him feel like vomiting.

Fighting nausea and a faint dizziness, Kiel pressed a hand to his forehead and asked quickly.

“Did you search the entire estate? He’s so small, he could be tucked away somewhere hard to find.”

Nob wanted to say Asha wasn’t that small, but provoking an already tense Kiel was unwise, so he explained the situation thoroughly.

“We searched every corner of the estate, but he’s nowhere. Given the number of men down, it seems there was a scuffle at dawn… but when we asked where the young master was, they claimed they didn’t know and insisted they were the victims…”

“They’re the victims?”

“Well… some had twisted necks, others broken noses, some knocked out by stones, others caught in nets or traps—fractures everywhere, a total mess. Only two were conscious enough to talk.”

Kiel knew those “traps” well. They were set by the Chester Marquis to catch him sneaking into Asha’s room. Seems those thieves got caught in them.

He was dumbfounded that the marquis hadn’t removed them, but they’d saved the day. Even Asha would’ve struggled against so many, so the traps were a blessing.

“What did the two who could talk say?”

“From questioning those who could speak, the young master took them all down and left the building. All the intruders were caught.”

That meant kidnapping was unlikely. How much to trust their words was unclear, but with their lives on the line, they probably weren’t lying.

So, he could relax for now. If it wasn’t a kidnapping, Asha was likely fine. Even if he was kidnapped, he’d probably escape.

The only worry was whether he’d get hurt in the meantime.

So soft and squishy, even a graze could harm him—Kiel was beside himself with concern.

“No idea where Asha disappeared from?”

“No. They just said he left the building.”

At first, his heart sank at the thought of a kidnapping, but now the question was where Asha had gone.

“Any signs he left the estate?”

“The gatekeepers said he didn’t go out.”

“Then he’s still on the estate, isn’t he?”

“If he was, he wouldn’t have stayed hidden with all that chaos.”

At Nob’s firm statement, Kiel shook his head.

“No. With him, it’s possible.”

Kiel knew Asha well. Nob did, too, but Kiel knew him better. When Asha was focused, he wouldn’t notice if the house caught fire.

Where’d he wander off to now?

“It’s certain he left that building?”

“Yes. But we can’t rule out a kidnapping entirely. If others came…”

Of course, that possibility couldn’t be dismissed. All scenarios had to be considered.

But Kiel was certain. If the intruders ended up like that, Asha was fine.

He was a steamed bun, but no ordinary one. Emotionally obtuse, but physically sharp. Especially his reflexes—they were extraordinary. He was skilled with a sword, but even better barehanded. One tap from those cute, pretty paws, and you’d go flying. So, no need to worry too much.

Above all, his detector was telling him Asha was fine. The steamed-bun detector, honed since childhood to sense Asha, was whirring, saying he was still on the estate.

He needed to stay calm. Reassuring himself, Kiel began thinking clearly.

The intruders were all caught, and Asha walked out of the building, so dealing with Paddington came first.

“Go to the Chester Marquis. Tell him Asha Jester was kidnapped by the Paddington Dukedom, announce it publicly, and start searching their estate. Tell him to move accordingly.”

Assuming the marquis would take the hint and play along, Kiel ordered and stood quickly. He told the attendants outside to prepare for an outing.

It was time to fire up the steamed-bun detector he hadn’t used in a while.

* * *

At that moment, Asha stood in a dark corridor, scratching his head and looking around.

But in the pitch-black darkness, there was little to see. So, he waited for his eyes to adjust and began piecing together why he was here.

“Uh… so…”

While fighting the black figures and being pushed toward the wall, the ground seemed to give way, and a net came flying.

Instinctively, he ducked to avoid it, but the figures didn’t.

Two men charging from his left got caught, dangling from a tree two stories high. Seeing them struggle, he quickly took down the others with his sword, threw the sheath at the head of one fleeing, and headbutted the last one grabbing him from behind, knocking him out.

Judging by the sound, that guy’s nose was probably broken. His brother had told him not to headbutt since his head was like a rock, but he had no choice then.

Anyway, after the chaos, silence fell. No further noise suggested no more were coming, so he grabbed the sword as evidence and stuck to the wall, moving through the bushes to avoid traps.

So far, so good.

Really, up to that point, it was fine, but then he stepped on something in the bushes again.

The texture wasn’t a net or a stone. It was… different.

Normally, traps sank with a soft whoosh, but this clicked, like something unlocking.

“Huh?”

Realizing he’d triggered something bad, the ground collapsed, and his body was sucked downward, falling as if diving off a waterfall.

He must’ve passed out for a while. When he woke, his head throbbing, he was in darkness.

And that’s why he was here.

“Hmm…”

As he sorted his memory, his eyes adjusted to the dark, and the surroundings faintly came into view.

Built of solid brick, it was a long corridor. Seeing paths branching off like a maze in the distance, it seemed to be an underground passage.

“Ah!”

Realizing it was an underground escape route, Asha let out a gasp.

This was designed for safe evacuation during war, fire, or natural disasters. Largely unused in peaceful times and neglected, the presence of oil lamps and flint on the walls confirmed it.

And that meant there’d be an exit somewhere along this path.

With that simple logic, Asha lit a lamp with flint and started walking.

But he’d been too optimistic. He’d forgotten that such escape routes were often complex mazes to throw off pursuers.

Not far from where he started, forks kept appearing, and having already lost his sense of direction, he picked paths at random, feeling like he was circling.

No, he was definitely circling. The empty lamp holder on the wall after walking for ages proved he’d returned to the same spot.

“A maze…”

Without a map—or even with one—getting out seemed tough.

The simplest solution was to go back the way he came…

Just in case, he looked up with his lamp. Far above, he saw the small hole he’d fallen through. A bit of light suggested it was an air vent for emergencies. His father must’ve widened it to make a Kiel-specific trap.

“This is bad…”

It was too high. Climbing that without a rope was impossible.

In a pretty dire situation, Asha plopped onto the floor, staring at the ceiling. The light through the hole confirmed it was morning. By now, everyone probably knew he was missing.

They’d start searching soon. With that thought, he put out the lamp, kept the flint nearby, and lay down.

He hadn’t slept properly, so he needed rest. Plus, he was hungry. He’d only had bread last night, so his stomach was growling.

If he wasn’t starving, he could wander forever, but rather than collapsing from hunger, sleeping and then searching seemed smarter.

He’d gone right earlier, so if no help came after a nap, he’d try left.

By now, word would’ve reached the palace, and Kiel would come looking for him.

That was enough. From childhood, Kiel had always found him, no matter where he was. He’d find him this time, too.

With baseless faith that Kiel would rescue him, Asha closed his eyes.

Just a little nap.

Just a tiny one…