RODH Chapter 30

30.

“Sir Luke, please stand up. Come on, you don’t need to go this far in front of me!”

“To show respect before the one who brings spring is only proper!”

A brief struggle broke out between them.

If he was the one who brings spring, that must mean it was about the Kirias family curse his mother once told him about.

But what did that have to do with him?

Ian was completely confused.

But Luke seemed to place great significance on not only the herd’s enthusiastic welcome but also on the fact that Ian had communicated with the deer.

“It’s been said that the one who brings spring can speak with the deer.”

“Wait—no, Sir Luke. I didn’t speak to them, I just—”

The more Ian tried to clear up the misunderstanding, the deeper it seemed to go.

And eventually—

“I heard that you desperately wanted to break off your engagement, so you intentionally stirred a scandal with the Dragon Crown Prince. If you truly want to end the engagement…”

“Sir Luke.”

“Please become our Grand Duke’s partner.”

Ian had never expected it to go this far.

He first tried to calm Sir Luke, who was now worked up like a charging bull.

“Sir Luke, listen carefully. What happened at the hunting grounds was purely coincidence. And unless His Majesty the Emperor gives permission, I can’t break off the engagement. So becoming His Grace’s partner—that’s too hasty a conclusion.”

“But—”

“I appreciate your sincerity. I’m one of many who also wish for the curse on House Kirias to be broken soon.”

“But our Grand Duke is just as remarkable as His Highness Seor! He may not look like a typical Northern man, but his spirit is as vast as Ferost itself!”

Why was he saying all this to me?

Ian was stunned that Seor and Nevan were suddenly being compared like this.

And if he had to pick between the two… well, maybe the Grand Duke—no, what was he thinking?!

“Sir Luke, today’s conversation could easily cause misunderstanding, so please don’t go repeating this to anyone…”

Just as Ian was trying to get Luke to keep his mouth shut, the door creaked open.

Startled, Ian turned around—and there stood Grand Duke Nevan of Kirias.

Who knew how long he’d been standing there?

With an expression Ian had never seen before, Nevan asked,

“You said… the one who brings spring?”

---

Meanwhile, on the way to the May Festival—

Unlike the laid-back Lucian, Bain was stiff with tension, nervously biting his nails.

“Hey, Bain.”

“Y-Yes? Yes, yes!”

“For today, I’m your young master. Just act like you normally do. Right now, anyone can tell something’s off.”

Lucian’s eyes gleamed dangerously.

Alvis, sitting silently beside him with a stiff expression, wasn’t much better.

‘Uwahh… Young master!’

Bain missed Ian terribly already.

Soon, the carriage came to a stop, and they arrived at the May Festival, thick with the scent of roses.

Lucian took a pill from Alvis and swallowed it.

Bain, already shaking from doing something this bold, eyed the scene suspiciously.

That’s when Ian’s words came back to him.

‘What if Lucian does something weird while looking like me? If anything happens, you have to knock him out and drag him back to the estate.’

What kind of pill was that?

Instead of speaking recklessly, Bain quietly raised his hand.

Crown Prince of the Dragon Clan Lucian gave him permission to speak.

“What is it?”

“C-Can I ask what that pill you just took was?”

Lucian responded with a sharp question of his own.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Well, the young master—I mean, the young master told me that if Lord Lucian tried anything strange, I should keep an eye on you… or knock you out, so…”

Only then did Lucian’s expression soften.

“Ahh, don’t worry. That pill just dulls my sense of smell.”

“…Excuse me?”

Bain, genuinely confused, looked adorably clueless. Lucian decided to explain a bit of his dragonkin traits.

“We dragonkin have very sensitive senses. On a day like this, where the rose scent is overwhelming, there’s no guarantee I won’t get irritable.”

Ian’s a feisty little cat, not a wildcat, you know?

Lucian joked casually, but Bain felt oddly offended.

A feisty little cat? What kind of disrespectful thing was that to say?

Our young master is so well-mannered!

Without sparing Bain a glance, Lucian stepped down from the carriage with Alvis offering his arm in escort.

Left behind, Bain hurriedly shouted,

“Wait for me! Crown Pr—no, young master!”

The May Festival, as befitted the Empire’s grandest celebration, was overflowing with sights to see.

Pink roses bloomed in full, not a single petal wilted, and everywhere were ribbons and ornaments that would surely delight the young noble ladies.

Though Bain flinched at every pop of fireworks going off intermittently, he stuck close behind Lucian and Alvis.

The place was packed so tightly with people there was barely room to move.

He had heard that only the Emperor, Empress, Crown Prince, and ducal houses could issue invitations—so how were there this many people?

Bain began to understand why the young master had been so upset about not being invited to the May Festival.

Though he didn’t enjoy parties much these days, an event on this scale… back then, he would’ve loved it like a child.

But his wistful thoughts were cut short by the shrill, bashful squeals of noble ladies.

“It’s His Highness Seor!”

“And look, Lord Ruben is here too! He dressed up so beautifully!”

“I’m going to ask him later where he got that corsage—it’s gorgeous.”

The chatter, as lively as a flock of sparrows, died down when Seor made his grand entrance.

He wore a white formal uniform like Lucian’s, with a pink rose that looked like a fresh bloom pinned to his left.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Ian.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Thankfully, Lucian acted just like the real Ian.

Even their playful back-and-forth banter felt so genuine that Bain’s jaw dropped slightly.

Just when did he learn that much about the young master?

Could it be… those rumors about the two of them really are true…?

As if to chastise Bain’s blasphemous train of thought, the stiff-as-a-board Alvis finally opened his mouth for the first time.

“What you’re imagining right now is wrong.”

“W-What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I’m a mana master. I can read people’s thoughts to some degree.”

“Hiiik.”

Just the thought that Alvis had read his mind made Bain feel utterly humiliated.

He quickly tried to explain himself.

“N-No, it’s just… His Highness the Crown Prince is really good at pretending to be the young master, so it just crossed my mind, that’s all…”

But Alvis’s expression only darkened further.

“Of course. A crown prince, a dragon prince… Too many rivals. Which only means Lord Ruben must be quite the catch.”

“Well, of course! Our young master is really popular—wait, wait, Lord Alvis, don’t tell me you…?!”

Alvis stared at Bain like he was about to kill him.

“If what I said reaches the young master’s ears, I’ll use you as my next test subject.”

“Uwahhh!”

Bain frantically nodded, clapping both hands over his ears.

“I heard nothing. I heard absolutely nothing…”

“We’re moving.”

At Alvis’s signal, Bain quickly straightened up.

“W-Wait, take me with you!”

• * *

Lucian found Seor pitiful—staggering drunk after only three glasses of Ceriju.

Feigning a toast, Seor had downed glass after glass of wine, then, as if he’d been waiting for the moment, dragged Lucian off to a hidden room in the inner palace.

Typical trick.

At first, Lucian had found the situation amusing. But the moment he realized Seor had intended to do this to Ian, his amusement froze over.

If he were Ian, he’d have kneed this two-faced bastard straight in the groin.

But he couldn’t go maiming the imperial crown prince’s reproductive organs.

More importantly, Lucian didn’t want Ian getting dragged into trouble because of his actions.

After all, Ian Pearl Ruben was destined to be a future candidate for Dragon Crown Princess.

“Ian Pearl Ruben.”

Seor murmured, his red eyes hazy with drunken lust.

This atmosphere… it was revolting.

Should he knock him out cold?

Lucian was contemplating just that when Seor suddenly pressed his lips against his.

“Ugh!”

Lucian, filled with a surge of rage, raised his fist.

At that moment, he saw Bain flailing frantically outside the door.

He was mouthing “No!” with all his might.

Right. If he hit him with full force, he might crack the crown prince’s skull.

But that didn’t mean he could just take this humiliation.

Lucian slowly unclenched his fist and opened his palm instead.

Again, Bain shook his head vigorously and mouthed another desperate “Don’t!”

Then what the hell do you expect me to do?!

Bain mouthed again: Hold it in.

Hold it in?

You want me to just endure this kiss from this obnoxious bastard?

Do you idiots have any idea how badly I want to throw up right now?!

As Lucian began to release a wave of hostile pheromones, Seor paused mid-kiss and muttered,

“What alpha… put this kind of pheromone on you? Tell me. I’ll cut him down myself.”

Lucian stayed silent.

The one I want to kill… is you.

He shoved Seor away with both hands.

Unfortunately, the push landed Seor right onto a sofa, which made the situation look… suggestive.

Seor gave a bitter laugh and said,

“I’m not a germaphobe, Ian Pearl Ruben. At least not when it comes to you.”

Lucian caught a faint musk scent at the tip of his nose.

Was Seor… releasing pheromones?

The imperial crown prince, famous for his so-called aversion to touch?

Lucian scrubbed his lips with the back of his hand and turned to leave.

But Seor, sprawled on the couch, grabbed his wrist.

With a somber expression, he said,

“Do you really want to end the engagement that badly? Even after everything I’ve done?”

“You’re very drunk.”

“Drunk… on the green of your eyes, perhaps.”

“……”

“Why won’t you answer, Ian Pearl Ruben?”

Lucian’s patience hit its limit.

He punched him.

Smack—!

Bain and Alvis, peeking through the door, gaped with their mouths wide open.