The Affairs of Those Noble Brothers Chapter 10

He thought it might be Tibane—speak of the devil and he appears. Irodel moved aside the chair he’d stacked up for defense and opened the door. Ever since the ruckus last night, Tibane hadn’t shown any sign of barging in again, but being careful couldn’t hurt. The servant bowed politely, entered, set the food on the table arranged for dining, and retreated backward.

“When you’re finished eating, please call for me again. Just press the bell by the door.”

“Where is it?”

“Right here…”

As the servant was teaching Irodel, who wasn’t used to annex life, how to use the bell, he saw something and stopped mid-sentence. It was Irodel’s head. The servant’s gaze was deftly composed, but Irodel, who realized it too late, hurried to make an excuse.

“This is… I hit it while sleeping. Don’t tell my brother.”

For something he’d supposedly hit while sleeping, he’d wrapped quite a lot of bandages around it, but if Irodel insisted, the servant had no reply. He closed his mouth and obediently bowed his head. But Irodel knew he was probably already full of thoughts about going and reporting it immediately.

The servants of this household appeared to work like machines, but in unseen places, they had their own hierarchies and factional activities. He didn’t know much about factions, but the hierarchy was clear: servants who worked inside ranked higher than those who worked outside, and those in charge of the masters’ rooms ranked higher than those in the study.

They were also granted the authority to report all matters, big and small, that occurred within the household to the masters. This itself seemed to be a form of power, and there was competition among them over reporting. Once, while gazing at the sunset outside his window and making a sentimental remark, he nearly fainted when his brother mentioned it later. The servants in this household truly were a bunch who tattled on every little thing.

“Then, please call if you need anything.”

Having secured a piece of news to report to Logan, the servant carefully withdrew, and Irodel slumped into his chair without energy. Nothing was going right. Yesterday he’d gotten drunk and passed out, and today he was holed up in the annex with his head bandaged. How pathetic would his brother think he was upon hearing such news?

Irodel chewed on the cherries that came with his meal. They were his favorite fruit, but they felt like chewing on stones. Everything, all of this, was because of Tibane.

Why did that bastard keep meddling in his affairs? When going between home and the academy, he had to be accompanied by someone—that was indeed a household order. But that someone didn’t have to be Tibane. When that bastard was away on campaign or whatever, his parents’ or his brother’s subordinates would come to get him. That was far more comfortable for him, and surely for Tibane as well. So why on earth did he keep appearing so often and stirring up trouble?

His words about living as strangers were close to sincere. They were twins in name only; they weren’t that affectionate. When his other family members didn’t come home, he felt lonely, but when that bastard happened to be absent, he felt relieved. Not just relieved—everything felt at ease, as if returning to normal. But Tibane always returned like clockwork, stayed at home, followed him around the academy persistently, and tried to meddle in everything. He was a tiresome bastard.

Irodel finished his belated meal in small bites and called a servant to bring him a change of clothes and a hat. Come to think of it, this was the time when Tibane wasn’t at home. It would be a waste to spend such precious time holed up in the annex. Maybe he’d visit the study for the first time in a while and read a book. Pressing his hat down firmly to hide the bandages, Irodel stepped out the door with a light step.

Whether word had spread among the servants that he’d been moving between the annex and the main house, today there was no bustle even when he came out into the garden. At this rate, he could even walk around for a stroll. Irodel was thinking this as he walked past the servants greeting him calmly, when—

Near the main gate, not far from the annex, a small commotion broke out. Someone was arguing with the guards.

“Please, just once!”

“If you keep this up, we’ll have no choice but to report it to the military.”

“Then, please at least deliver a message! Just one word…”

“We have no authority to do that.”

As he drew closer, the silhouette became oddly familiar. That towering, gangly man was… Orbon? Startled, Irodel hid behind a hedge. A gardener nearby, who happened to be tending to the flowers, stared at Irodel with wide eyes. Paying him no mind, Irodel peered through the leaves at the main gate.

“Just one word, please. Tell him to give me just one more chance…”

Had he come looking for the glass bottle Irodel had stolen? At this point, it might be better to just hand it over, but his pride wouldn’t let him step forward. As Irodel clutched his anxious chest, torn between meager guilt and self-respect, the argument between the guard and Orbon continued.

“Stop it. If you don’t step back more than ten paces, we will use force.”

“Please, I’m begging you!”

This won’t do. Neither would this situation resolve itself, and he’d just have to close his eyes and apologize and return it. Just as Irodel straightened his crouched body, a large military vehicle approached and stopped at the main gate. The window rolled down, revealing a familiar face. The world seemed peaceful indeed. Today too, Tibane had come home before sunset.

“What’s this. What’s the commotion?”

Upon confirming who it was, the guards stopped the argument and saluted with discipline. Orbon’s face lit up.

“Irodel—! Ah, L-Lieutenant Tibane.”

Orbon, who had been clinging to the car window as if salvation had descended, faltered. Annoyingly… he’d mistaken him for Irodel because of their similar faces. Tibane scanned Orbon with a blank expression for a moment, then suddenly flung the car door open.

“Ugh!”

Struck by the door without warning, Orbon rolled on the ground. That bastard? Startled, Irodel ran out, but Tibane was a step faster. Without a word, he grabbed the collar of the coughing, rolling Orbon and shoved him under the front seat. Then he hopped into the car and vanished into the distance with a heavy engine roar.

“…”

What just happened. What had happened. It had all passed so quickly, it felt like a dream. The guards remaining at the main gate glanced sidelong at Irodel, left standing alone. Irodel, oblivious to the leaf stuck in his hat, just blinked, staring in the direction the car had disappeared.

∞ ∞ ∞

Afterward, he questioned the guards who had been wrestling with Orbon, but got no answers. As soldiers in charge of the mansion’s security, they were tight-lipped and rigid. Needless to say, they were especially tight-lipped with him. Forced to give up, he went into the study. As originally planned, he laid out dessert and tea beside him and opened a book. But even after staring at it for a long time, nothing sank in, so he just closed it. Before he knew it, the sunset was glowing red.

In all his life, he never thought he’d see the day he’d be waiting for Tibane. What was he doing with Orbon after abducting him that he wasn’t coming back? Were they acquaintances? It didn’t seem like it. If they were close enough to call each other acquaintances, he wouldn’t have grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into the car on the spot. No, he shouldn’t expect common sense from a savage like Tibane. There must be something between them. Maybe, a debtor-creditor relationship or something…

Irodel put down the book and stretched out on the sofa. He didn’t know. Had he ever expended this much mental energy on Tibane before? He could confidently say no. He wouldn’t waste even a thread of attention on a bastard who uses his mouth to hit people.

“…”

Let’s just forget about it. Irodel turned away from the sunset glow. Time passed even if he just ate, slept, and lazed around. It was comfortable, but more than that, it was boring.

Maybe he’d go to the academy tomorrow and return the bottle to Orbon. And when he got back, he’d order some dried herbs to fill the lab and start growing poison herbs too. He’d grow them well and give them to Tibane as a birthday present. He didn’t want to remember that bastard’s birthday, but since it was the same day as his own, he had no choice. So every year, he gave him a new poison herb.

“Yeah…”