“My lady, a letter has arrived from the capital.”

The butler brought an envelope sealed with wax. It had the seal of the Artenbach ducal family stamped on it.

“Is it from Father? I want to see it too.”

Rublion, who was studying for an exam nearby, put down his pen and scurried over. I carefully opened the envelope with a knife and took out the letter.

Rublion rested his chin on my shoulder, peeking at the letter, and said:

“Father is being awfully affectionate, isn’t he?”

“Indeed.”

My face flushed slightly. The letter contained a tenderness that didn’t match his nickname of the cold ruler. Half of it was expressing concern for my health, and the other half inquiring after Rublion.

After reading his letter, I immediately took out stationery from the drawer to write a reply.

“I want to write a reply too.”

At the child’s request, I took out another sheet of paper and handed it to him. Rublion received it politely with both hands, then pushed his textbook aside and began writing his reply earnestly.

‘…Why are there only good things?’

Is everything really going well?

‘What urgent matters need to be handled?’

He was originally someone who showed no mercy or forgiveness to those who touched what was his. Because he was the kind of person who could make someone disappear without a trace… Having such power and wealth made me more concerned.

“Mother, I’m done writing.”

While I was lost in thought, Rublion had folded his letter and brought it over. Then, with a face resembling Askal’s, he said solemnly:

“You absolutely must not read it.”

“Oh? When you say that, it makes me very curious.”

I chuckled, fidgeting with the letter the child had written. Rublion shook his head.

“You may say that, but I believe you won’t look without my permission.”

“You know too much about me. I might have to take measures?”

I narrowed my eyes playfully and glared at the child. Rublion laughed and said:

“Mother, you’re cute.”

To maintain this feeling of having the world at his feet for longer, Aron made his way to the underground world of the capital.

Believing he could repay everything once he received his title, he borrowed money from a loan shark as soon as he left the imperial palace. His steps were truly as light as a feather as he entered the lavish and massive gambling hall.

The manager warmly welcomed the new mark. Aron’s mood improved from the flattering attitude, and he enjoyed himself by tossing bundles of chips.

The atmosphere grew increasingly heated. Aron kissed the cheek of a woman wearing a dress so precariously low it would fall at the slightest touch, and said:

“If I put my mind to it, securing a position is nothing!”

“My, really?”

He slowly turned over the cards in his hand. Then he laughed uproariously and shouted:

“Straight flush!”

“Kyaa, young master, you’re so cool!”

The others at the table cursed under their breath. Aron felt an exhilarating thrill as he took out chips and tucked them into the woman’s cleavage.

“Hahaha!”

He was genuinely happy. So much so that he failed to notice that those enjoying the game with him were shills planted by the gambling hall.

The game continued. Food never ceased to enter his mouth, and chips disappeared as quickly as his glass was refilled.

The stakes kept rising. After forcing one player all-in, he couldn’t control the surge of adrenaline.

But even that was part of the house’s scheme. As the unfavorable hands piled up, Aron grew increasingly anxious.

His mind screamed for the thrill of victory again, but as things didn’t go his way, his frustration mounted.

He had lost most of his winnings and over half of the borrowed money.

Aron stood up, saying he was going to get some fresh air. Even then, not wanting to lose his seat, he took off his fedora and placed it on the chair.

Stepping outside the building, he lit a cigar. It was already past midnight, a gloomy night. Aron briefly considered seeking the company of a courtesan with heavy makeup and a pretty smile.

That’s when it happened.

Someone walked out from the alley between the gambling hall and the next building. It was already dark and hard to see, but with black clothes and a hood, it was impossible to make out who it was.

‘Huh…?’

He dropped his cigar at the familiar chill. Having committed many crimes, he had often been on the run and had his life threatened.

While he hadn’t been unprepared for such a situation, he hadn’t expected it to come so soon.

Aron hurriedly stubbed out the cigar with his foot. Then he turned around to enter the gambling hall. It was a naive thought that if he was far enough, they couldn’t chase him once the doorkeeper closed the door.

“Open the door.”

Aron called out to the doorkeeper. He didn’t have enough presence of mind to notice it was a different person from the one he had seen hours ago.

He thought the man would immediately open the door with a bow, but for some reason, the doorkeeper didn’t move an inch. Feeling the blood drain from his body, Aron shouted:

“I said open the door! Hurry!”

Glaring at the man who didn’t move a finger even at his shout, he reached out to open the door himself. However, the doorkeeper grabbed the handle as if to stop him.

Only then did Aron realize something was wrong. He noticed the doorkeeper had changed.

“Th-this…”

His legs began to tremble at the eerie presence approaching. Clutching tightly to the bundle of chips hidden in his clothes, he kicked wildly at the gambling hall door.

Finally, the man in black from the alley came close enough to reach out and touch him. Aron couldn’t even scream. The man stuffed a wad of cotton in his mouth and put a hood on him like one used for condemned prisoners.

“The Crown Prince’s side has made a move.”

Rimon urgently reported to Askal, who was still awake despite the late hour.

“How many?”

“Two imperial knights are with them.”

“Good. Proceed as planned.”

“Any further instructions?”

“While I’m diverting Aron, collect all evidence that the Crown Prince instigated the assassination.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Askal rose from his seat and grabbed his sword. Seeing this, Rimon hesitated before speaking.

“Be careful. The Crown Prince might be watching our side too.”

“You be careful too. If anything happens, I’ll have you admitted to the military hospital. You won’t be able to go to Artenbach.”

Rimon waved his hands in dismay.

“Oh no, anything but that. I can’t leave my lovely wife alone here.”

Then he smiled and said:

“Askal, take the revolver too. Just in case.”

He hesitated for a moment before approaching the desk drawer. Though unfamiliar with guns, he decided to bring it along as per his friend’s advice, just in case.

Aron followed the men in black, not knowing where he was being taken. The iron chains around his wrists were heavy, making his arms ache.

How long had they walked?

From the feel of the ground, he realized they were walking on a mountain path, not the well-paved sidewalks of the city. He tried to make some noise, but the cotton in his mouth prevented him from pronouncing properly.

Just when he felt like collapsing from exhaustion. Finally, as if they had reached their destination, the man removed the hood from Aron’s head. And took out the cotton from his mouth.

‘I-I’m going to die!’

He couldn’t even raise his head properly out of fear. What would happen here was clear as day.

Shing.

The sound of a sword being drawn was heard. Startled, Aron prostrated himself on the spot.

“P-please spare me! I was wrong!”

He pleaded, rubbing his hands together.

“If you need money, I’ll give you everything. If you just let me live, I’ll live as if I’m dead… Please.”

But the man showed no hesitation. His raised arm came down swiftly.

“Aaaaargh!”

In the face of death, Aron screamed with his eyes tightly shut.

Clang.

Contrary to his expectation that the blade would mercilessly cut his neck, he was still alive.

Opening his eyes, he saw a knight who had appeared out of nowhere blocking the man’s sword.

“What… is this?”

Confused and bewildered, Aron spotted the emblem of the Artenbach Knight Order and broke into a wide smile.

“My brother… Askal came to save me!”

Aron twisted his bound wrists vigorously. Then he shouted with all his might.

“Kill them all! Eliminate them!”

He yelled as if he were the commander. The knights faced off against the assassins who were trying to kill Aron by any means, and he didn’t miss this opportunity.

Aron, who had been slowly backing away while watching the situation, started to run away with all his might. He could probably get the iron chains on his wrists removed by slipping some money to a blacksmith.

Too happy to have survived to notice his breathlessness, he ran down the mountain path and found a gap between trees perfect for hiding. His only thought was to go straight down to the village when day broke and flee to a foreign country.

Rustle.

As he squeezed himself into the gap and was catching his breath, he heard someone approaching.

Aron cursed inwardly and hid deeper. Then the iron chains on his hands clinked against the tree, making a sound.

Click.

Simultaneously, the sound of a gun being loaded was heard. Even though his head was turning white from lack of oxygen, Aron couldn’t breathe.

“Come out.”

A low, familiar voice. Finally discovered, Aron stood up, aware of the voice’s owner.

His brother with golden eyes identical to his own and jet-black hair.

Askal Modesto Artenbach was aiming a gun at him with a terrible expression.