RODH Chapter 4

4.

Why is he here?

I stared blankly at Peter, completely forgetting that he was waiting for an answer.

Seeing the very person who had beheaded me in my first life made my heart pound, and my vision wavered once again. I had no idea how many deep breaths I took just to block out the memory of that pain.

Noticing my paleness, Peter spoke up.

“If His Highness hears that Lord Ruben is unwell, he will be concerned.”

The moment Seor’s name was mentioned, my nervous heartbeat settled, and my mind cleared with a startling sharpness.

Concerned, my foot. He’d laugh and carry on even if I died four times over. You wouldn’t understand.

“I am perfectly healthy.”

“But you mentioned an illness…”

“Oh, that? It’s an illness of the heart. A doubt, wondering if I’d truly be able to avoid bringing shame to the imperial family if I can’t even secure a breakup.”

“…”

“It’s the truth.”

“I did not say it was a lie.”

Peter’s perfectly handsome brow furrowed slightly as he replied.

Not one to back down easily—Seor’s loyal man through and through.

The House of Hubert had traditionally produced the captains of the imperial guard for generations. Peter was said to be an exceptional talent, worthy of being recorded in the Hubert family history.

He’d achieved the rank of Sword Master by the age of seventeen.

But even he was little more than a toy soldier compared to the Iron-Blooded Grand Duke, Nevan Nic Kirias.

The Iron-Blooded Duke had become a Sword Master at fourteen and protected House Kirias from a monster wave by the time he was eighteen.

The reason I knew all these details about others was because I, too, once dreamt of becoming a knight. Of course, that dream was promptly quashed by my parents and sisters, but I still loved everything about swords and knights.

“So, what brings you to the duke’s estate?”

“There is a joint training exercise between the imperial guard and the household guard here today. It seems you were not informed.”

“No, I wasn’t. I was bedridden with my heartache yesterday, so today is my first time outside.”

I could see suspicion clouding Peter’s eyes.

Suspicion was the perfect tool for concealing my intentions.

Real or not, you can decide that for yourself.

“Well then, I’ll be off to start my training.”

“Lord Ruben.”

As I was about to leave, Peter pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to me.

I didn’t take it immediately, and he added, sounding slightly exasperated.

“A letter from His Highness the Crown Prince.”

“From His Highness Seor?”

“Yes.”

Reluctantly, I took the letter from him. Just as I was about to read whatever nonsense Seor had written, I caught Peter’s gaze on me.

Noticing, Peter said.

“You may read it now if you wish.”

So I broke the seal and skimmed the contents.

To summarize, the message was clear: the breakup would require a formal discussion with the Emperor, the Duke, Seor, and myself all present.

“Why go this far?”

I scowled deeply, my irritation plain.

He could die fawning over that omega he was clinging to in my first life, for all I care. What’s so appealing about keeping someone like me around?

Yes, Marchioness Dmitri is draining the treasury, but it’s not as if the imperial finances are that dire. Honestly, the wealthy are always the greediest.

I mentally cursed “Seor, that bastard” at least ten times as I finished reading the postscript at the end of the letter.

[There’s a party at the Dragon’s Lair tonight. Be sure to attend. – Seor von Sain]

It was essentially a command to appear as his partner. I wanted to shred the letter into pieces right then, but I couldn’t—not with Peter watching. Clenching it tightly was the best I could do.

Peter noticed my sour expression and asked, “Did His Highness approve of the annulment?”

“If he had, I would be hosting a party tonight myself.”

“….”

What’s with that look?

I gave a casual nod and brushed past Peter in his silver armor, heading off on my own. Not wanting to hold onto Seor’s cursed letter for another second, I tossed it to Bain, who caught it like it was a pouch of gold coins.

“Young master, wait for me!”

* * *

Peter watched Ian dash off on his own, having casually tossed the letter to his attendant like it was nothing.

House Ruben was the most esteemed family in the empire.

If only it weren’t for Ian Pearl Ruben.

The party enthusiast, the wastrel of House Ruben… Peter recalled a slew of nicknames people used to describe him, along with the events of the previous day.

“Please grant me a break from this engagement.”

“Marriage is… what?”

It was the first time Peter had ever seen Seor look so caught off guard.

He had been just as stunned.

Who was Ian Pearl Ruben, after all? Wasn’t he the notorious rascal who treated the imperial palace like his personal ballroom, barging in with absurdly large bouquets every time? And now, he’d suddenly changed his mind?

At first, Peter had thought Ian was joking. But after seeing how adamantly he stood his ground, it was clear he meant every word.

He’d even collapsed, staring at Peter like he’d seen a ghost… though that was unexpected.

But Ian had seemed genuine in his plea, claiming he was a poor fit for the imperial family and begging for the engagement to be called off.

Ever since yesterday, Seor’s mood had been sour.

“How dare he ask me to annul the engagement?”

When Peter had suggested that this might be for the best, that finding a more suitable partner than Ian would be a wise decision, Seor had only snapped at him in return.

“I’ll teach that insolent omega a lesson.”

But exactly how he intended to do that was unclear.

It was the first time Peter had seen Seor this ruffled, which naturally made him glance in Ian’s direction.

Ian was now making his fifth lap around the mansion.

He’d started by running with all his might, then slowed to a walk before shifting to a brisk pace. Watching him find his own way to exercise, a fitting routine for someone with low stamina, was unexpectedly clever.

“It’s as if he’s a different person overnight.”

Peter didn’t trust Ian, but he couldn’t deny that something was different about him.

After a while, Ian disappeared from view, and Peter turned toward the resting knights.

Just then, Ian’s attendant approached, handing him a letter.

“Lord Ruben asked me to deliver a response, Sir Hubert.”

When Seor received that letter, he erupted with fury.

“Why the outburst, Your Highness?”

Peter used formal language, hoping to soothe him, but to no avail. Seor clutched the letter as if he would tear it to pieces and yelled,

“Why on earth is he refusing to attend the party!”

* * *

“You sent a reply saying you won’t attend the party?!”

“Yep.”

“But…why? His Highness the Crown Prince requested you as his partner, and refusing him would….”

“I’ll handle it. I have no desire to go with that bastard—I mean, that guy, Seor. Besides, I told you I’m quitting drinking, remember?”

I took a bitter swig of medicine, then popped a chocolate with a bit of alcohol in it. The doctor advised that cutting out alcohol completely might cause another shock, so I had no choice but to prepare something like this.

“Young master, it’s still not too late to reconsider.”

“Be quiet, Bain. Can’t you see I’m working here?”

“Sorry.”

“As long as you understand.”

The training to become the Ruben heir was more exhausting than I’d expected.

History, imperial studies, journals passed down exclusively within House Ruben, royal etiquette… the list of things to learn felt endless.

No, that’s not it. It’s that I had been too ignorant up to now.

Clutching my head with one hand, I continued scribbling with my quill in the other.

If something’s wrong, correct it. If there’s a mistake, set it right.

As my thoughts progressed, I began mulling over ways to catch the spy.

After narrowing down the attendants who had access to the innermost parts of the estate, I counted around thirty people. Including relatives, that brought the number to roughly seventy.

Was there no way to uncover the secrets these people were hiding?

If only I had some sort of magical artifact…

“Oh!”

“Young master?”

There was ‘Dragon’s Tear!’

“Dragon’s Tear” was a treasure, a stalactite growing from the ceiling of the Dragon’s Lair, known for its rare qualities. Its difficult acquisition requirements made it a high-grade treasure among adventurers.

The requirements: a top-tier Dragon’s Lair, and the timing must be night.

I glanced out the window and saw that darkness had already fallen.

“Bain, wasn’t there a party at the Dragon’s Lair tonight?”

“Yes. Should I prepare things right away?”

“Yeah, we have to go quickly.”

“So you’re finally going to see His Highness!”

“Don’t even mention that bastard.”

“Gasp!”

Bain gasped as if his innocent image of me had just shattered.

“Stop overreacting and help me get ready. There’s something I need to bring back from there.”

Recovering himself, Bain muttered.

“I must have misheard just now.”

And hurried to prepare my outfit and bracelet.

It would take at least an hour to get to the Dragon’s Lair, so I had no choice but to borrow my father’s carriage.

With the mana-powered carriage, we’d be there in about twenty minutes.

In no time, we arrived in front of the grand venue.

It seemed to be a masquerade theme, as everyone wore masks upon entry.

The manager, recognizing me, looked ready to announce my arrival with flair, but I stepped on his foot and whispered, “Tonight, I’d like to be as inconspicuous as possible. Understood?”

“Y-yes, of course, Lord Ruben. Here, please take a mask.”

Why did it have to be a cat mask?

Covering my face with the mask, I ventured into the depths of the Dragon’s Lair.

I wasn’t the only one here without a partner; plenty of people wandered around alone.

I looked up at the ceiling, scanning for any stalactites I could collect. Harvesting from the center of the hall would be too conspicuous…

Leaving the revelers behind, I quietly made my way toward the terrace.