[Translator - Pot]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
Chapter 73: He Has A Place To Be Tonight
Allenvert led Peter toward the library.
“I’ll go pay my respects to the Head Butler then.”
“Sure, go and see if you can snag so refreshnts while you're at it.”
Once even Olivier had left to deliver his report, the annex quickly fell silent.
“...”
anwhile, a pair of eyes quietly observed Julia’s narrow shoulders as she carried cleaning tools toward the bedroom to tidy up.
‘Is this my chance?’
The spy planted by Verdzig didn’t have much ti left.
Once the royal guards were stationed at the annex, the security would beco far tighter.
‘No, I need to act before Olivier returns. There’s no ti to waste.’
Olivier had perfect control over the newly hired staff, which made the annex a structure designed to filter out any suspicious activity.
Though the spy had blended in for now, any careless move would easily get them caught.
‘...I’ll have to be more cautious.’
The spy quietly returned to their position. Opportunities didn’t co twice, and for soone answering Verdzig’s orders, the outco could only be success—or death.
***
As I made my way to the library, I took in the view of the coastline stretching beneath the castle.
The gazes of the staff who watched felt entirely different from before.
“Why are they staring so intently? Being too good-looking can be exhausting.”
“Or maybe it’s because you’re the center of so much attention right now?”
“Silence. I don’t care for the jealous ramblings of an unattractive man.”
I sternly reprimanded Peter.
“Just because your face isn’t much to look at doesn’t an your heart should be equally ugly. Reflect on yourself, you pathetic fool.”
“To think I’d be berated so harshly for saying a single word…”
“Enough.”
After briefly switching places with Peter and living as Karzan last night, I’d gained a renewed appreciation for just how handso Allenvert’s face truly was.
‘How foolish of , to nearly forget the value of such a gift simply because I’ve grown used to it.’
“But do you think the librarian has ever eaten sothing like this?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Isn’t this the sort of thing commoners like usually eat?”
“You really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I smirked.
“Nobles enjoy snacks just as much as anyone else.”
“Do they really?”
“Your younger sister seems to like them too.”
“What?”
“I gave her one.”
“You—you really did?”
Peter looked deeply moved.
“To think you’d even care for the likes of my sister…”
“She’s much sharper than you, probably because she doesn’t take after you. If she’s interested, I’m even considering hiring her as staff in the future.”
“W-what?”
“Maybe I should replace my current attendant.”
“T-that’s not fair!”
I briefly reflected on the poverty Peter’s family had endured.
“I’ll make sure your salary is raised. Tell your sister to save it wisely.”
It’s not wise to give too much money all at once. If word spreads that they’ve suddenly co into wealth, the kindness of those around them can quickly turn cold.
‘But still, young children should at least be able to enjoy a good snack every now and then.’
I suddenly recalled a mory of my grandfather.
[PR/n - Grandfather: An old man who adopted MC in his previous life for a brief part.]
On those freezing winter nights, when we endured by huddling together for warmth in an icy room, my grandfather would hold close, full of countless regrets.
Among those regrets was the fact that he had never been able to buy a simple treat.
‘But back then, I was a child with no desire for snacks at all.’
Living in a situation where we couldn’t even light a fire or ensure regular als, I didn’t have the luxury of wanting more.
Years later, when I found myself alone and had stepped into the underworld—
For the first ti, I bought the very snack my grandfather had so wanted to give .
‘I rember thinking, why did he feel so guilty about this?’
The snack was so sweet it made my head ache.
‘It was a flavor my grandfather would’ve enjoyed far more than .’
Perhaps he had known the taste, which is why he felt so remorseful. To him, it must’ve been pitiful that his unrelated grandson was growing up without knowing even the smallest joys of life.
So, when I’d achieved a little success, I went to his grave, replaced the worn-out shovel I had left there with a proper headstone, and placed that overly sweet snack beside it before leaving.
‘By now, even that grave must’ve been abandoned.’
Who else but would tend to my grandfather’s resting place?
But even Karzan, who had road the underworld, had died 17 years ago.
That grave of a forgotten villager, without kin to visit, must now have beco part of nature, overgrown with grass and trees.
‘And Zamuel… He must’ve been too busy trying to survive himself.’
There had been a ti when I thought of returning to my grandfather’s grave, pouring a drink, and confessing that Karzan had co back.
‘But now I’m in no position to even visit.’
Even though my grandfather’s spirit had returned to the heavens, his body lay quietly in a faraway foreign land, across an endless sea.
“…”
As my thoughts spiraled endlessly—
“Young Master, are you alright?”
Peter’s voice pulled back from the past.
“I’m fine.”
I quickly regained my composure, masking my emotions.
“I’m just feeling sleepy.”
“You could rest a bit longer.”
“I’ve had enough sleep for seven years.”
Technically, it was seventeen years.
Before I realized it, my steps quickened toward the library in front of .
‘If Ludan is there, he might know about the city’s history and its key figures.’
Nobles, rchants, and even the influential figures of the underworld—I wanted to gather whatever stories I could about them.
‘From the outside, it might look like I’m heading for an important discussion.’
Fine by . Let them assu what they want.
‘No one truly understands .’
That gap in information leads to misjudgnts. And those misjudgnts? They’ll only work in my favor.
***
“Young Master, welco.”
“It’s been a while.”
I pulled out so wafers to accompany the tea Ludan had prepared.
“As promised, I’ve brought sothing sweet enough to rot your teeth.”
“Ah, a street snack, is it?”
“You recognize it right away?”
“I’ve never tasted it myself, but I’ve seen it in books before.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his response. It was exactly what one would expect from a man who had spent his life growing old among books.
“Thank you for the treat, Young Master.”
Ludan closed his eyes and savored the snack.
“Ah, how peculiar. There’s not a single expensive ingredient in it, yet it’s remarkably sweet and has a charm of its own.”
He seed to like it enough to take another piece.
“You’re enjoying it, I see?”
“Sotis, a cheap snack pairs surprisingly well with fine tea.”
I nodded in agreent, appreciating his insight.
“As expected, you understand the art of tea.”
“Thanks to you, Young Master, I’m having quite the enjoyable experience.”
The warm smile on Ludan’s wrinkled face was comforting, and I found myself relaxing in his presence.
“With all the snacks I’ve taken from you, it’s only right I repay the favor, don’t you think?”
“Haha, if you plan to repay everything, you’ll have to visit often.”
“Well, I suppose that gives a good excuse to co by.”
Strangely, we both set down our teacups at the sa ti. A brief silence followed, but in that mont, I caught the flicker of hesitation in the old man’s expression.
‘He’s mulling over sothing.’
Soon enough, a glimr of resolve appeared on Ludan’s face.
“...Young Master.”
“Speak freely.”
“This morning, soone ca to see .”
Feigning surprise, I raised an eyebrow.
“Ca to see you? Who was it?”
“They claid to be the person who will serve as your swordsmanship instructor.”
“Hm?”
Now that was genuinely surprising. Blinking in confusion, I asked.
“This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
“It was apparently decided by the head of the Clan.”
“Ah! Is that so?”
“Yes. However...”
Ludan lowered his voice.
“They went out of their way to ask questions about you. Strangely persistent, almost unnervingly so.”
Well, now. That didn’t sit right with .
“What exactly did they ask?”
“They wanted to know if your amnesia was real.”
“Wow, now that’s a little unfair.”
If they’d known everything from the start, I wouldn’t have had to go through all that trouble.
“They acted as though confirming that point was of utmost importance.”
“Hm.”
I crossed my arms and fell into thought. Could my father have assigned yet another suspicious character to ?
“Regardless, knowing soone is snooping around in the shadows doesn’t feel great. How am I supposed to trust such a person to teach ?”
“What’s important is that he’s both suspicious and dangerous in many ways.”
“Do you know him well?”
“I don’t.”
Ludan’s gaze grew heavy, his expression somber.
“...And that’s exactly why he’s dangerous. Although I’ve been acquainted with him for a long ti, I still don’t know his na or rank.”
The words carried a significant weight.
“A man who’s like a shadow, then.”
“Ah, that’s the perfect description. He was, quite literally, like a shadow.”
“And such a man is supposed to be my swordsmanship instructor?”
“Not just an instructor. He’ll act as a representative of the Duke and the Council of Elders, as well as your examiner.”
I tilted my head in confusion.
“Is that a usual arrangent?”
“Yes. The other young masters underwent a similar process during their coming-of-age ceremonies.”
“Ah, I see.”
This was an entirely unexpected developnt.
“Seems I’ve been taking things too lightly.”
Setting aside the questions I’d planned to ask Ludan, I stood from my seat.
“Are you leaving already?”
“I need so ti to organize my thoughts.”
Ludan, his expression heavy with concern, offered a word of caution.
“Please be careful. I sensed sothing profoundly dangerous about him—like an abyss without a bottom.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
As thoughts of this mysterious swordsmanship instructor filled my mind, another figure surfaced—my father, Duke Georg Grunewald.
‘I’d really like to see him face-to-face at this point. What exactly is he planning?’
Just as others couldn’t discern my intentions, I, too, was far from understanding my father’s.
***
“I greet you, Uncle.”
The Head Butler greeted him warmly with a smile.
“Olivier, it’s been a while.”
“...It’s only been three days.”
“To a mayfly, even three days must feel like an eternity. Co, have a seat.”
The butler gazed at his nephew, Olivier Borgart, with pride. Olivier was the Clan’s brightest talent, a man the Borgart na could boast of.
“You look like you haven’t been getting enough rest.”
“Yes, there’s been a lot to do lately.”
Olivier barely swallowed the sigh that threatened to escape him. At this rate, he half-expected to find himself with white hair like his uncle within ten years.
“I’m here to report on any noteworthy incidents involving the young master and Young Lady Ulbhild over the past couple of days.”
Olivier carefully avoided ntioning two critical matters: Ulbhild’s discussion of Angantyr and the fact that Allenvert had visited the underworld the previous day. Instead, he reported on all the other events.
“...That concludes my report.”
“Understood. Nothing unusual, then.”
Looking at his uncle’s impassive expression, Olivier suppressed the uneasy feeling gnawing at him.
‘Is this truly the right thing to do?’
His duty was, by definition, to report every detail of his Young Master’s activities to both the Clan Head and the Head Butler. Yet, to preserve trust with Allenvert, he had chosen to conceal ‘last night’s truths.’
The vague discomfort arising from that choice was an entirely new sensation for Olivier—one he had never experienced before.
Ultimately, it was a question of priorities.
‘What should take precedence?’
Had his uncle ever wrestled with such dilemmas?
Between ‘duty’ and ‘loyalty’ what should prevail?
If loyalty to the Clan conflicted with loyalty to the one he served, which was more important?
“Uncle.”
“Speak.”
"May I ask you a personal question, Uncle?"
"A personal question, not a formal one? That’s a much more welco request to this old man."
"..."
Olivier closed his eyes.
‘No, this isn’t right.’
He felt a strong sense of foreboding—that speaking too hastily, without first organizing his own thoughts, would surely lead to regret.
"...I’m sorry. It’s too personal of a matter, after all."
"Ah, I see."
Despite the clear disappointnt on his uncle’s face, Olivier couldn’t bring himself to say more.
***
Head Butler Aiden silently observed the seat his nephew had just vacated, his thoughts drifting.
‘It seems he’s caught up in sothing quite dangerous.’
Aiden could vaguely guess the nature of the ‘personal matter’ troubling Olivier. As a fellow butler, he had wrestled with such concerns himself, long ago.
‘Think and reflect, Olivier. Inner turmoil is the hamr and fire that tempers the human spirit.’
Aiden hoped to witness the masterpiece of the Borgart Clan unfurl its wings alongside the masterpiece of the Grunewald Clan.
‘But the young master truly is remarkable.’
What had Allenvert done in such a short span of ti to so captivate Olivier’s heart?
That rigid, principle-driven man was now caught in the throes of such deep contemplation.
‘Perhaps the young master’s greatest talent isn’t martial skill but his ability to win hearts.’
Indeed, even Aiden himself found it difficult not to harbor a quiet admiration for Allenvert.
‘Still, young master, you’ll need to tread very carefully this ti.’
His thoughts turned to the swordsmanship instructor personally appointed by Duke Georg.
‘Even I don’t know everything about that man.’
The shroud concealing him was dense and impenetrable.
‘The one thing that’s certain is that he answers only to the Duke.’
As the Head Butler of the Grunewald Clan, Aiden was among the Duke’s closest confidants.
Yet even he, who oversaw the internal affairs of the Ducal Estate, was not privy to all that transpired in the other departnts of governance or the military.
Only the Duke held the threads to all the scattered fragnts of information, orchestrating the governance of the duchy with unerring precision from its pinnacle.
Naturally, even Aiden was curious about the Duke’s intentions.
"...For him to suddenly seek an audience with Young Master Allenvert."
Aiden rang a bell, summoning another servant.
"You called for , Head Butler?"
"Send soone to Young Master Allenvert’s residence."
"Yes, sir. What shall I tell him?"
"Inform him that he has a place to be tonight—quietly."
The eting between Duke Georg Grunewald and Allenvert, the fourth son of the Clan, was no ordinary father-son encounter.
It was so secretive and delicate that no one in the Clan could know of it, nor could the slightest disturbance mar its quiet execution.
[Translator - Pot]
[Proofreader - Kawaii]
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