RODH Chapter 28

28.

Lucian had asked Ian to invite Alvis as a guest to the May Festival.

Out of nowhere?

“Lord Lucian, aren’t you going to attend yourself?”

“Oh, I plan to be sick that day.”

Whatever that meant, it sounded shady.

Ian didn’t know what Lucian was scheming, but he refused the request for now.

Lucian then perched himself elegantly on the desk and said,

“Even though it’s a chance to go to the North?”

“What do you mean? I have to attend the May Festival that day. Don’t you see the imperial decree?”

Annoyed, Ian snapped at him, and Lucian raised both hands as if to calm him down.

“There’s a way. You’ve been too used to getting fooled, haven’t you?”

“I’ve never just blindly trusted anyone either.”

“No alpha alive could win an argument with you, Ian.”

If you’re going to compliment me, then compliment me. If you’re going to insult me, then insult me.

Ian was starting to feel his patience wear thin.

Leaving the irritated Ian behind, Lucian grabbed the door handle and added,

“If you want to go to the North, you have to invite Alvis as a guest to the May Festival.”

Lucian turned back with a sly grin.

His violet eyes were brimming with mischief.

“You’ll find out on the day, so don’t worry too much, Ian. When I make a promise, I always keep it. Unlike someone.”

Ian frowned.

“And who would that someone be?”

“Oh, just some unlucky bastard. Anyway, I’m off. Bye, Ian.”

“Lord Lucian!”

But before Ian could get any real explanation, Lucian had already left.

“Haa…”

All he’d done was deal with one person, and he already felt drained.

Stretching his legs out on the sofa, Ian sank into deep thought.

Why did he want Alvis invited?

The only people allowed to issue invitations were the Emperor, the Empress, the Crown Prince, and the ducal houses.

If the Rubens, the Empire’s top noble family, extended an invitation to the Tower Lord, it’d definitely stir up attention—but that alone wouldn’t get Ian to the North.

“What the hell is he up to?”

Deciding to just go along with it, Ian asked the butler to send an invitation to Alvis.

And on the morning of the festival—

Ian slapped his knee in shock at the sheer absurd brilliance of the plan.

---

The day of the May Festival.

Just as promised, Lucian showed up at the estate with Alvis in tow.

I hadn’t been expecting much, so I was already dressed and ready.

I wore a white suit, in line with the festival’s dress code, with a pink corsage about the size of a child’s fist pinned to it.

I had just followed the dress code, but maybe because my hair was neatly styled, Lucian made a huge fuss over it.

“You’re like a living flower, Ian! Don’t you agree, Tower Lord?”

“You look wonderful, Young Master Ruben.”

“Thank you for the compliment. So—what’s the method you talked about?”

Lucian nudged Alvis’s arm with his elbow.

Then, Alvis, who’d been blankly staring in my direction, pulled out a potion from his inner pocket.

And said,

“Please give me a strand of your hair, young master.”

“…Excuse me?”

“No need to talk. Just give me a little. Only a few strands will do.”

“Wait—ow!”

Without warning, Lucian yanked out three or four strands of my hair.

Then he dropped them into the potion, swirled it a few times, and—gulp—downed it.

“Ugh. Disgusting.”

“Transformation potions never taste good.”

“Did I ask you?”

“……”

I thought they were on good terms since they came together, but maybe not.

Then, Lucian’s face began to twist and morph—until it became mine.

“Ta-da. What do you think, Ian? Perfect, right?”

Lucian twirled lightly like a pinwheel.

He had become my spitting image.

I frowned.

“Is it possible for anyone to take on my appearance just by having a strand of my hair?”

Alvis looked a little flustered and shook his head.

“No, Young Master Ruben. Transformation potions are one of the most difficult Class 1 potions to make. You don’t have to worry.”

“Alright, that’s reassuring.”

“What about my praise? I’m the one who drank it, you know.”

I hadn’t expected Lucian to come up with this kind of scheme. My temples throbbed as I pressed my fingers against them.

“So this is the method you meant…”

“Yup. I’ll attend the festival in your place, so you can head to the North worry-free.”

But I shook my head.

“His Highness Seor will notice.”

Seor is incredibly perceptive.

He’s not someone who could be fooled by this kind of trick.

Lucian replied,

“Ian, seems like you don’t know—people say love makes you blind.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“Hahaha. What I mean is, Seor likes you so much that even if I act a little out of character, he won’t think anything’s strange. Want a demonstration?”

“…No, thank you.”

I instantly rejected him. I couldn’t stand the sight of Lucian imitating me.

I never expected these guys to use this much brainpower.

I asked Lucian, who was now demanding a change of clothes,

“And why, exactly, are you doing me this favor?”

Lucian’s lips curled up.

“Knew you’d catch on quick.”

“Just tell me what you want in return.”

At the word “return,” both Lucian and Alvis opened their mouths like they were going to speak—then fell silent.

Ah. They’re not on the same side.

Damn it. I got played.

“One at a time. I’m not in a rush.”

“Then I’ll go first. I want to go on three dates with you.”

“Why three?”

“Because I’m suffering on your behalf.”

“……”

That wasn’t convincing in the slightest.

“Next, Lord Alvis?”

“I… well…”

Alvis hesitated for a while, then spoke in a timid voice.

“There’s the Samhain Festival coming up at the Mage Tower. I was hoping you’d accept an invitation to it.”

Samhain—I’d read about that in Berkisto’s journal.

No one knows exactly when it began, but it’s a festival for mages.

It seemed like there’d be a lot to see, so I didn’t reject Alvis’s proposal.

Bain would probably enjoy it too.

Lucian, having been turned down, looked sulky in my face and muttered,

“Why is my request the one you won’t accept?”

“If we go on three dates, what kind of rumors do you think would spread?”

“Hmm, maybe that we’re close friends?”

Does he know or is he pretending not to?

At his shamelessness, I clicked my tongue.

“Gossip about secret rendezvous is already going around the social circles. You want to give them more credibility?”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

Lucian stayed cheeky and unfazed.

“Anyway, three times is out of the question.”

“Then two.”

“Still too many.”

“Okay, once—and one wish!”

“What wish?”

Alvis seemed just as fed up as I was. His blue eyes were full of pity.

But Lucian stayed firm.

“It won’t be anything outrageous. Just grant me one small request when the time is right.”

“If it’s anything weird, I’m not doing it.”

“Deal.”

Lucian agreed too easily—it was suspicious enough to make me wary again.

At this rate, I might develop trust issues.

Just then, there was a knock, and Bain stepped into the room.

“Young master, are you rea—what the!”

Bain looked back and forth between me and Lucian, who looked identical except for our outfits, and gasped in shock, practically foaming at the mouth.

“Bain, Bain!”

To avoid Seor’s suspicion, I had decided to send Bain along with Lucian to the May Festival.

Bain, recovering quickly, teared up and begged me to let him go to the North too.

“No, Bain. Think about it. What if Lucian does something weird while looking like me? If it comes to that, you have to knock him out and drag him back to the estate.”

“Y-You want me to knock out the Crown Prince of the Dragon Clan?”

Bain turned pale as he looked at Lucian, who gave a big smile from a distance.

Had something happened between them without my knowing?

Just in case, I gave Lucian a firm warning.

“Bain is my precious servant and friend. If you treat him carelessly just because he’s a servant, there won’t be any dates or deals. Understood?”

“Oh, don’t worry. Bain and I are super close. Right, Bain?”

Lucian slung an arm around Bain’s shoulder.

Bain trembled like a rabbit cornered by an eagle.

I’m sorry, Bain.

But right now, I really need to get to the North.

---

After Lucian’s group left, I went downstairs to pick a suitable carriage.

I expected only plain ones to be left, but besides the one my father had used, there was also a carriage fitted with a magic stone.

When I asked why, they told me it was a birthday gift from my father.

I had the butler send a message bird in a fur coat to announce my visit before setting off.

It felt more polite to give a heads-up before showing up at the Grand Duke’s estate.

“We’re departing, young master.”

With the coachman’s words, I leaned back against the plush interior of the carriage.

I had tossed aside the extravagant May Festival outfit and changed into something simple, wearing the rabbit-fur cloak my mother had made for me.

With warm boots and gloves firmly in place, I entered the northern route—where small snowflakes had begun to fall.

The snow melted the moment it touched the carriage.

That was the advantage of a magic stone carriage.

It gave off just enough warmth and didn’t slip, even in permafrost.

Its downside, of course, was the outrageous cost.

A single magic-stone-fitted carriage could buy nearly a third of the ducal estate.

As I idly dwelled on the steep price, I straightened my back at the sound of rhythmic rumbling—du-du-du-du.

In the distance, a herd of deer was running in circles.

These must be the ones Grand Duke Kirias had mentioned.

They were twice the size of southern deer, and the thick fur on their necks gave them a lion-like appearance.

I locked eyes with the alpha leading the herd.

Memories of a deer lying dead when I was ambushed by assassins flashed in my mind, and I instinctively looked away.

Then the coachman shouted,

“Th-The deer herd’s coming this way, young master!”