RODH Chapter 3

3.

I sprang up, throwing myself off the wretched bed that was Seor.

The sudden movement made me stagger, but I gritted my teeth, determined not to fall again.

The dizziness that had scattered through my mind like dust finally began to subside.

Seor, left abandoned on the floor, rose, brushing himself off with a faintly amused expression.

“Lord Ruben, you’re remarkably swift.”

Yes, I’d danced circles around plenty of partners back in the day.

I wanted to smack him for that mocking tone, but I restrained myself—for now. After all, Peter El Hubert was right beside him.

If Seor gave the order, my head would part from my body in an instant, never to return. Naturally, this drew out a more polite tone from me.

Not that it stopped me from cursing him inwardly. Listen well, you pathetic little sun of the empire, you miserable…

“As Your Highness is certain to break off our engagement, I must apologize for any offense caused by this lowly body making contact.”

What I meant, of course, was that I had no desire to stay within a single inch of this mercy-lacking, ice-hearted fiancé of mine.

But for some reason, Seor’s expression turned oddly blank, as though he were listening to someone speak a foreign tongue.

The sight was so ridiculous that I allowed myself a small smile, which was promptly met by a piercing glare from those frosty golden eyes.

What are you looking at, you little—

I glared right back at him until I eventually lowered my gaze, realizing the pettiness of the standoff. But more than that, I really didn’t want to relive the experience of having my head sliced off.

“There will be no annulment.”

I’d been all ready to celebrate a swift breakup. Why?

“And why not, Your Highness?”

“It’s the Emperor’s decision.”

“But surely, I am entirely unsuited to be your match. Please reconsider.”

“Why did you change your mind so suddenly?”

“Pardon?”

I blurted out before I could stop myself.

“Ahem, my apologies. As you can see, I’ve never been one for perfect manners…”

I trailed off, gauging Seor’s reaction.

There was no way he could know I was living my fifth life.

Ah, I see it now.

He’s testing me.

Anyone would be suspicious of someone changing overnight. I could remember my own excitement just the other day, swept up in a naïve fantasy of marrying the Crown Prince.

If I hadn’t died four miserable times, I’d likely be here trying to close the distance between us, desperate to connect somehow.

But now, I found him as repulsive and loathsome as he clearly found me.

Seor was cold, emotionless, and brutally ruthless.

Why did he keep eyeing those neighboring nations across the borders when the Emperor himself was content with the status quo?

Because of that, the Grand Duke of Kirias had to endure constant battles to guard the northern borders.

Feigning the dedication of a loyal subject, I spoke.

“In time, people do change, Your Highness. I’m coming of age soon, and as the future head of House Ruben, I must fulfill my responsibilities and duties. But my abilities fall short of those required to serve the imperial family as well.”

I bowed, hoping this plea would end things once and for all.

“Request denied.”

Rejected. Damn it.

---

The journey to the palace might have been smooth, but the return was anything but.

For some reason, Seor had sent an attendant with instructions for me to ride back in a different, finer carriage. Bain, standing beside me, looked thrilled enough to burst, but I rejected the offer without hesitation.

“It’s a bit too much, riding in a palace carriage before I’m even married. Make sure you tell him that.”

I wondered if the attendant conveyed my words accurately.

Across from me, Bain muttered under his breath.

“They say the palace carriages are fitted with high-quality mana stones, making them incredibly light and fast, young master.”

“I’ve got plenty of time. There’s no rush to get home.”

“Off to another party, then?”

“Party?”

“Yes. Marchioness Dmitri is hosting one tonight. I heard the cousin of Grand Duke Kirias will be there, so it’s expected to be a large gathering.”

“Good. Lots of people. Great.”

Bain looked at me, confused by my lack of excitement at the mention of a party.

“Shall I turn the carriage around?”

“To where?”

“The Dmitri mansion, of course.”

“What? No, I’m going home to rest.”

“That’s…not like you at all, young master. Did something happen yesterday?”

Ah, here we go again.

It seemed like I’d need a prepared answer to explain why I’d suddenly changed to anyone who asked.

I repeated what I’d said on the way to the palace, like a parrot reciting a well-worn phrase. “I just want to change. To live life my own way. When I’m lost in a crowd, I forget who I really am.”

“Young master, you’ve really grown up. Sniff.”

Bain’s eyes turned pink, and he let out a heartfelt sniffle. Then he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose with an impressively loud “Paaah!”

A wild thought struck me.

What if Bain, in all his sincerity, was actually the spy?

The spy had to be someone who could freely roam around the entire estate without raising suspicion. Someone like Bain.

“Bain.”

“Yes, sniff, young master, sniff.”

“Are you sure you don’t have any secrets you’re hiding from me?”

Bain’s eyes went round as coins at the word “secret.”

Gotcha.

“Well? Out with it.”

“H-how did you know?”

“I have my ways.”

“Well…actually…”

Bain looked up at me like a dog checking for permission, then glanced away, speaking so quickly he almost stumbled over his words.

“I…may have snuck a few of your snacks! I’m sorry, young master!”

“That’s it?”

“Pardon?”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all, really….”

Given Bain’s innocent reaction, he was clearly not the spy.

This guy’s courage was the size of a pea; a little pressure and he’d spill every secret he knew. As a result, it was always me who bore the brunt of scolding from my third and fourth sisters because of him.

The memory irritated me, so I raised a fist and gave Bain a light bop on the head—a soft thunk sound.

“Ouch!”

“That’s for stealing your master’s snacks.”

“I’m sorry, young master…. Perhaps I’m not worthy to serve you.”

“If you quit, I’ll hit you harder than before.”

I raised my fist again, and Bain quickly corrected himself.

“N-no, no! I suddenly feel perfectly suited for the job again!”

“Good, that’s settled.”

I lowered my raised fist, but suddenly, my hand began to tremble.

I grabbed my shaking hand with the other, trying to steady it. But that hand, too, was unsteady.

Soon, my entire body started trembling, as if I were a barren tree being battered by winter winds. An intense chill swept over me.

“Young master!”

“B-Bain… I’m so cold…”

“But, young master, it’s spring! Young master? Young master!”

Just as I thought this might be the fifth death approaching, my vision blurred, and we arrived back at the ducal estate.

Bain carried me on his back up to the third floor of the mansion, to my room, which had the best view in the house.

I could hear his heart pounding, almost like a drum, and for some reason, it made me want to cry. In my past life, Bain had died trying to protect me, yet here I was, suspecting him. I was truly trash.

Still, a part of me clung to the belief that this suspicion, this cynicism toward others, would one day save my life. If not, then I’d only be fated to endure a fifth miserable death.

Soon, I was laid on a soft bed.

“Young master, the doctor’s here. Just hold on a bit longer.”

Oddly enough, the trembling subsided after a bit of alcohol.

The doctor, who was staying at the estate to treat my mother’s chronic illness, observed me with a faintly judgmental look and clicked his tongue.

“It’s alcohol withdrawal, young master. If you suddenly stop drinking after indulging for so long, you’ll experience chills like this. You’ll need to detox gradually.”

I saw a hint of pity in his gaze, but as soon as I gripped his wrist tightly, he flinched and dropped to his knees.

“So, how long will it take?”

“Well… it depends on how long you’ve been drinking, but in your case…”

“In my case?”

“Two to three months, young master.”

“Damn it. Get out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“One more thing—don’t say a word about my condition to my mother.”

“But, young master, the Duchess—”

“If she finds out, her illness will only worsen. Say nothing. It can wait until I’m fully recovered.”

Both the doctor and Bain looked taken aback.

Once the doctor left, I downed the bitter medicine he’d prescribed.

Bain, ever supportive, showered me with praise, but it did little to lift my spirits.

“Please rest well, young master.”

He knew me well enough to quietly slip away, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I sat up and started punching my pillow in frustration.

How pathetic I had been, a reckless, foolish version of myself who could never stop drinking.

“Why couldn’t you just control yourself, Ian?”

Those endless drinks, whether in sadness or joy, had all been poison.

The next morning, I joined my parents for breakfast.

Assuming I’d been worn out from my visit to the palace, my mother asked me with concern, “Ian, are you feeling better now?”

“I’m fine. But, Father…”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to officially begin my training as the heir.”

Both of my parents looked shocked. And why wouldn’t they? I’d spent my life doing nothing but wasting time and partying.

My father set his utensils down and wiped a tear away with his sleeve.

“Thank you, Ian. Thank you.”

“Please, don’t cry. I’ll work hard so as not to tarnish the Ruben name.”

After reassuring my parents, I made my way to the training grounds.

Bain, who had quietly followed behind, looked at my modest outfit and asked, “Young master, what are you planning to do now?”

“I need to build some stamina. Exercise will help me recover faster, won’t it?”

Just then, I heard a familiar voice that I hadn’t expected in this place.

“An illness? Are you unwell, my lord?”

It was Peter El Hubert, the ever-loyal captain of the imperial guard.