RODH Chapter 19

19.

I returned home completely exhausted.

Bain asked,

“Will you be having dinner in your room?”

“No, I don’t feel like eating.”

“You need to eat well, especially at times like this, Young Lord.”

Bain insisted on bringing me some Eggs Benedict, but I waved him off. I truly wasn’t hungry.

There was something far more important than hunger.

Delivering the Potion of Truth to my father.

With the potion in hand, along with the magical artifact Alvis had given me, I made my way to my father’s office.

I happened to run into the butler on the way.

“Is my father inside?”

“Yes, he was just about to head out for dinner.”

Right then, the door clicked open, and my father stepped halfway out, looking at me.

“Oh, Ian. I was just about to go eat.”

“Father, could you spare a moment?”

“Of course, of course.”

Once inside his office, I lowered my voice as much as possible and explained,

“This is the Potion of Truth. It lasts for three days. Tomorrow is the regular meeting—if you add it to Count Gillat’s food, it should work.”

“Understood. We’ve already made the necessary arrangements regarding Count Gillat. As for Marchioness Dmitri, I’ve handled things as discreetly as possible, just as you suggested.”

“You’ve worked hard.”

I hadn’t forgotten Lucian’s advice.

If Marchioness Dmitri were to lose the Emperor’s favor because of this, it was obvious where the backlash would land.

It was better to frame it as if we had simply uncovered some suspicious traces, and the matter naturally led to an investigation.

That way, if she ended up standing trial for treason before the imperial court, the Emperor would ensure a lenient ruling.

“This incident will make His Highness the Crown Prince see you in a new light, Ian.”

At the unexpected mention of Seor’s name, I frowned.

“Father. I have absolutely no intention of marrying the Crown Prince.”

“But His Highness seems rather fond of you… isn’t that so? You even take governance lessons together.”

“That was a decision made entirely without my consent. And more importantly, Seor does not truly love me.”

Neither do I.

Perhaps sensing my firm resolve, my father finally agreed to respect my wishes regarding the engagement.

If he hadn’t been on my side, I would have been forced into a political marriage without question.

Realizing how fortunate I was, I hugged him tightly.

When I was younger, he had seemed so tall. But now, I had grown taller than him.

“My, Ian. When did you grow up so much? I still remember how tiny you were as a child. You couldn’t even take up a quarter of your cradle—you were so small.”

A lump formed in my throat.

My father had always been hands-on, even insisting on making my wooden rocking horse himself despite the servants offering to do it.

That horse had been my second-favorite thing, right after the swing.

It was stored away in the warehouse now, but I would never throw it away.

Because my father was already old enough that it wouldn’t be strange if he passed away at any moment.

Spring had ripened, and even the night air was warm.

The Next Morning
From the early hours, both the direct and collateral relatives of House Ruben had gathered.

The conference room, normally used for meetings, had to be rearranged with four additional tables just to accommodate the sheer number of people.

“Oh, Ian!”

Count Gillat greeted me, his chameleon-like eyes darting around.

“I didn’t get the chance to properly greet you last time. Have you been well, Count?”

“But of course. Tristan mentioned that you’ve changed… and I can see that for myself.”

As expected of a shrewd man, he had clearly been keeping close tabs on me.

But this would be his last opportunity to do so.

Your time in prison is fast approaching, dear uncle.

“The meeting will now begin.”

My father rang a small bell, signaling everyone to take their seats.

The relatives paired off and sat down. Since my mother was feeling unwell today, I took the seat beside my father.

Given that they had already heard I was being groomed as House Ruben’s heir, no one objected.

As my father skimmed through the agenda, he raised his glass, proposing a toast.

“There are quite a few matters to discuss today, so let’s start with a toast.”

“Agreed.”

“To the prosperity of the Empire and House Ruben!”

“To prosperity!”

Clink.

The sound of glasses colliding echoed through the room.

I kept my eyes on Count Gillat, watching closely as he drank his wine.

He drank without hesitation but soon frowned as if something tasted off.

“This wine seems to have gone bad,” he muttered.

“Really? Mine tastes perfectly fine.”

“Are you sure you’re not feeling unwell?”

“Unwell? Nonsense. The only thing I have is a bit of hemorrho—… huh?”

“Hahaha! You sure know how to joke!”

Count Gillat’s expression twisted in confusion.

The Potion of Truth was taking effect.

As soon as I confirmed it, I signaled my father with a glance.

He motioned to the butler, who then distributed a fresh stack of documents to the gathered relatives.

The sight of the attendants efficiently handing out papers was rather pleasing to watch.

“Before we move on to the general agenda, let’s address the most pressing matter first.”

The room buzzed with murmurs.

The documents contained evidence of double bookkeeping for tax evasion, smuggling of restricted goods to foreign nations, and unauthorized private military forces far beyond what was legally permitted.

“…Therefore, I propose we formally charge Count Gillat with these crimes.”

“T-This is absurd!”

Count Gillat shot up from his seat, slamming his palms onto the table.

Duke Ruben—my father—spoke, his tone calm yet commanding.

“Do you acknowledge that all these accusations are true?”

“I… I do. Huh?!”

“Did you conspire to frame House Ruben for treason and bring harm to our family?”

“That… I also admit to. Wh-what’s happening?! Why am I saying this?!”

The murmuring from the relatives only grew louder.

Then, the eldest among them stood up and roared in outrage.

“You wretched fool! How dare a mere brat like you covet the wealth of House Ruben, a family with over three hundred years of history?!”

His thick finger jabbed the air in Count Gillat’s direction, and soon, condemnation erupted from every corner of the room.

“There are no signs of forgery in these documents. Even the seal is Count Gillat’s own. This double bookkeeping was meticulously crafted!”

“He even had a private militia? What a dangerous man.”

“We must not allow such a disgrace to continue tarnishing House Ruben!”

“Agreed!”

“N-No, this can’t be! This is all a lie—wait, no, it’s the truth! I did it! It was all me! Ugh—!”

Count Gillat, realizing he could no longer control his mouth, desperately smacked his lips in vain as the knights dragged him away.

My father had already spoken with His Majesty the night before, so House Gillat was as good as finished.

Once the uproar settled, I quietly rose from my seat and left the chaotic conference hall.

Outside, Bain and Peter were waiting.

Bain, I could understand. But Peter?

“I bring a message from His Highness, the Crown Prince,” Peter said.

“Go ahead.”

“Before that…”

“What is it?”

“I heard that you have yet to appoint a Guardian Knight.”

An Alpha Supreme Omega who successfully completed their coming-of-age ceremony was given special status within the Empire.

Because of their exceptional ability to bear powerful Alpha heirs, they were granted the right to name a personal Guardian Knight for protection.

I replied indifferently,

“I’ll decide when the time is right.”

“I see…”

For some reason, Peter looked dispirited.

Did Seor mistreat him again?

Not that I cared, but seeing Peter run errands like some lowly servant because of Seor felt oddly… pitiful.

“A Guardian Knight…”

“…….”

“I’ll appoint one when the time comes.”

Not that it would ever be you.

Leaving him with that false hope, I accepted the letter he handed over.

[To My Dear Fiancé, Ian.]
From the very first line, I felt the urge to set the letter on fire.

I turned to Peter and said, “It seems rather long. I should take my time reading it over tea. You should have some as well, Sir Hubert.”

I had only said it because I knew he would take the letter back eventually, but Peter’s face brightened as he replied, “Thank you.”

“No need for thanks. Bain, prepare some tea and light refreshments. I’ll be in my room.”

“Yes, Young Lord.”

Bain glanced between me and Peter, quickly picking up on my mood before scurrying off to the kitchen.

Tea time with the very man who had once executed me. What a ridiculous situation.

Of course, compared to sending Count Gillat and Tristan to ruin, getting my head chopped off had become nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

I had just crushed countless lives beneath my feet.

My father had looked at me with sorrow, fully aware of that fact.

But House Ruben was just as precious as the lives lost.

The father who always seemed so gentle toward me was as sharp as a blade when it came to such matters.

“Ian, listen well. There is something far more terrifying than death—the guilt of failing to protect what is precious to you.”

That was the Duke of Ruben—the head of the Empire’s greatest noble house.

I sat down and unfolded the letter, reading it in front of Peter, who remained as unnoticeable as a shadow.

[To My Dear Fiancé, Ian.]

Spring has already begun to bloom. I assume you are doing just fine without me? Every time I realize that, I find myself at a loss. Do you know why?

Peter tells me it’s just a case of seasonal melancholy, but I don’t think so. After all, I have no allergies whatsoever.

(Omitted passage.)

Anyway, the Imperial Hunt will be held soon, and I expect you to attend.
Of course, as my fiancé.

I clicked my tongue.

What nonsense.