RODH Chapter 76

76.

He decided to seek out the Empire’s foremost romance expert, Marquis Silvano, a man said to even reunite separated lovers.

‘If I find the greatest romance expert in the Empire, he’ll surely come up with a way.’

Seor secretly instructed Peter to deliver a letter to House Silvano.

And a few days later—

Once all the uproar had subsided, Seor was able to meet privately with the marquis in the middle of the night.

“Well now, it seems the little sun of the Empire has found himself troubled.”

Contrary to Seor’s assumption that he was merely a lecher, Marquis Silvano was extremely courteous.

It felt different from the usual discrimination shown by rank and status, so Seor asked,

“You don’t stand much on ceremony, do you?”

“People often told me that since I was a child. My mother scolded me many times for it.”

“That’s not what I meant. What I mean is…”

The marquis winked.

“I understand. You find it unusual that I don’t treat people differently according to their birth and station, correct?”

“How did you know that?”

“By talking with someone only briefly, I can usually discern what they’re really trying to say.”

“Remarkable.”

“You flatter me.”

Seor folded his arms.

“Then guess what my trouble is.”

The marquis paused, humming thoughtfully, before giving his answer.

“Is it not that the one who resides in your heart remains beyond your reach, and that is why you have come?”

Seor was taken aback.

All anyone had said after the birthday celebration was that he and Ian seemed to be on good terms.

Had the marquis investigated him?

Sensing his suspicion, the marquis laughed.

“Your Highness the Crown Prince, you are a man of great pride. So I simply assumed you must have come because your romantic endeavors were not going smoothly.”

It was a plausible explanation, and Seor nodded.

He offered the marquis a large sum of money, but Silvano refused it.

“I do not take money from those who have not yet won love.”

“Then are you saying you won’t take on the commission?”

“Of course not. After all, the little sun of the Empire has come to me.”

“Then I’ll speak plainly.”

Seor told him about Ian.

How once his heart had closed, Seor could not find his way back inside.

Having listened to everything, the marquis sighed and nodded.

“It is always hardest to turn a heart once it has turned away.”

“Then is there a way?”

“First, I will need to meet with young Lord Ruben myself.”

“You will?”

“I can’t know the state of things unless I see for myself, can I?”

“Ian is bedridden now. I suspect he is avoiding meeting anyone at all.”

“My name is well known throughout the Empire. I’m sure, after some hesitation, the young lord will receive me.”

With that confident declaration, Marquis Silvano set out for House Ruben.

And then—

“My lord is unwell and will not receive guests.”

“Did you tell him my name? I am Marquis Silvano, the Empire’s most renowned romance expert.”

“I did, but my lord’s health is poor. Please return another time.”

“Tch.”

The marquis glanced once at the closed ducal gates, then had no choice but to turn his carriage around.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ian received a welcome guest.

It was Nevan.

“Nevan!”

“Ian.”

Once again, Nevan pulled Ian into a crushing embrace that felt as though it might break his bones.

The breath against his neck was hot and heavy.

‘Did he rush here because of me?’

Ian smiled faintly, but then noticed someone standing behind Nevan.

A woman with pigtails and horn-rimmed glasses stood there, her face flushed, unable to decide where to set her gaze.

Ian pushed Nevan away and said,

“Nevan, you have a guest.”

But Nevan held on for a long time, ignoring Ian’s repeated urging.

At last, he released him slowly and spoke.

“I was worried.”

“Nevan, your guest—”

“I worried greatly.”

His crimson eyes pierced Ian as though demanding answers.

For a moment, Ian could only blink in silence, feeling like he was being scolded.

The sharpness in Nevan’s eyes softened, and he explained,

“She is a doctor I brought from the North.”

The woman behind him hurriedly stepped forward to greet him.

“It… it is an honor to meet you, young Lord Ruben. My name is Chloe. As you’ve heard, I am a doctor.”

“Yes. May I call you Chloe?”

“Of course! That would be my family’s greatest honor—”

“Begin the examination.”

“Ah? Yes, of course.”

At Nevan’s words, Ian leaned comfortably back on his bed to be examined.

“The family physician said it was merely fatigue, nothing else of concern.”

Ian tried to emphasize how fine he was, but Nevan paid him no heed.

Chloe closed her eyes for a moment, took his pulse, and said,

“The flow of mana is somewhat unstable.”

“Ah, Alvis explained that part already…”

Chloe’s eyes flew open, her voice rising.

“Are you speaking of the Blue Mage?!”

“Yes… that’s right.”

“Young lord, you truly are remarkable. It has been my life’s dream to behold a Blue Mage.”

Was Alvis really such a rare figure to meet?

Ian thought absently of the Mage Tower, which he could visit whenever he wished.

Soon Chloe released his hand.

“The examination is complete. As for treatment…”

She dug into her enormous bag, shaped like a turtle’s shell, and pulled out three or four potions.

They resembled those Alvis had once offered.

“Drink one each day. It will prevent the flow of mana from backfiring.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. For the future grand duch—”

“Chloe.”

At Nevan’s sharp tone, Chloe coughed awkwardly and fled the room.

Ian was puzzled, but since Nevan had taken her place beside him, he didn’t dwell on it.

Nevan took Ian’s hand as though it were something precious.

The warmth that passed through their joined hands was comforting.

Ian asked,

“How did you know to come, Nevan?”

“I sent Ruby, but there was no reply. So I sent another.”

The man Nevan had dispatched must have been very quick-footed.

Perhaps this was why northern intelligence was so formidable.

Before Ian could marvel at it, Nevan’s face drew close.

Chloe, flustered, excused herself hastily with, “I’ll be going now!” and vanished.

“……”

“……”

The moment grew awkward, until Nevan broke it with a kiss on the cheek.

It was brief, leaving behind only the faintest trace of warmth.

“Ian.”

“Yes.”

“Your wounds still haven’t healed, have they?”

The injuries on his hands would take time to close.

Even Alvis’s magic could not fully mend them; only natural healing would.

Still, there was good news—his dependence on alcohol had improved significantly.

‘Not cured completely, but better.’

As long as he didn’t push himself to drink excessively, he would be fine. But the memory of his death brought a shiver down his back.

Nevan gently laid him down, pulling the blanket up to his neck.

When he showed no sign of leaving, Ian laughed softly and asked,

“Will you read me a fairy tale, then?”

Nevan’s long lashes flickered.

“Not a fairy tale. But may I tell you a northern legend?”

Ian shifted to the side and patted the bed.

“Lie here.”

“But—”

“Stories are best when told lying down.”

After much hesitation, Nevan carefully lay beside him.

Even lying down, his beauty shone dazzlingly.

Ian thought to himself that he was far too weak to Nevan’s looks.

“So, what will you tell me?”

“A tale of the northern spirits.”

And so Ian heard the story of the spirits, after the tales of the Stag and the Winstoll Tree.

Stories beginning with “Once upon a time” never grew dull.

* * *

Nevan brushed Ian’s cheek once as he slept soundly, then left the room.

Outside stood Bain, hovering nervously, waiting for his master’s call.

“Nevan said, “He’s asleep.”

“The young master?”

“Yes.”

Bain carefully opened the door and slipped inside.

Nevan passed him and walked to a familiar guest room.

Inside, Chloe sat on the sofa, waiting with a serious expression.

“What were the results of the examination?”

“As I said—the flow of mana is unstable.”

“And?”

“…As expected, he has received the blessing of Anna Tuatla.”

Nevan let out a short sigh and sat opposite her.

“No one must know this.”

“But the Emperor is watching, is he not?”

“The eyes watching him have vanished. I don’t know why.”

Chloe’s lips twitched, as though holding back words.

At last she said,

“You must take young Lord Ian as your duchess, Your Grace.”

“……”

“You know what the blessing of Anna Tuatla means.”

Anna Tuatla.

Known to most as merely a spirit guarding Ferost, but in the North, she was closer to a god.

The unique mana that appeared in one chosen by the divine was proof of her blessing.

Yet neither of them seemed to regard it as a blessing.

Chloe murmured, her face clouded with concern.

“If he does not come North, then the young lord will—”

“That’s enough.”