Chapter 29: Misunderstanding (3)

Evan doubted his ears.  

What did I do?  

Addicted the nobles’ sons to drugs?  

Am I crazy?  

Evan’s expression was one of utter disbelief.  

It was enough to crack even the emotionless mask he usually wore.  

Leo snorted.  

“Trying to play dumb? I already know everything. To think you’d pin it on an innocent baron’s son.”  

Why would I do that?  

Spreading drugs among noble sons wasn’t just reckless—it was outright stupid.  

It was tantamount to making enemies of the entire nobility.  

Not only would the parents of the addicted sons turn against him, but other nobles would as well.  

It was the same logic as being a serial killer.  

Maybe even worse.  

A serial killer at least kills; drugs trap people in a living hell.  

Who would like someone who might addict their children at any moment?  

Evan knew this all too well.  

He’d been aware of the dangers of drugs since his days in the modern world.  

It wasn’t for nothing that he despised the underworld and drugs.  

And yet, they’re saying he went out of his way to supply drugs?  

With the courage to be hated?  

He wouldn’t do something that insane even if he lost his mind.  

“To think you attended the ball for that scheme? You must be determined to ruin the Alkart family’s reputation.”  

“There’s a misunderstanding.”  

Evan spoke as calmly as possible, trying not to show his panic.  

Ugh, my throat feels tight.  

Forcing his voice not to crack, his tone naturally dropped lower.  

“I never brought drugs, nor did I give them to anyone.”  

“Are you saying Lady Asella is lying, then?”  

The notorious villainess, Asella.  

At the familiar name, Evan realized.  

That crazy woman!  

God, I’m speechless.  

He was beyond exasperated—borderline furious.  

Should I just go all out?  

Send a few golems her way?  

Evan had his pride too.  

If she was going to ruin his innocence like this, he’d have no choice but to go from a gentleman to a bad guy.  

First, I need to deal with this.  

What should he do?  

As Evan pondered, Leo’s gaze grew even more menacing.  

It felt like his stare alone could roast Evan alive.  

Why does he hate me so much?  

“…Did she really say I did it?”  

Let’s deflect for now.  

“Yes.”  

“Then bring proof that I did it.”  

“What?”  

Leo’s face contorted.  

It wasn’t particularly intimidating.  

Leo was relatively small in stature.  

His swordsmanship favored sharp, swift rapiers over heavy broadswords.  

He did look a bit frail on the outside.  

I could probably take him.  

Evan felt a slight boost of confidence.  

“Prove that I supplied and distributed drugs. If you do, I’ll admit it.”  

“Now you dare…”  

“What drugs did I bring, and how did I distribute them?”  

Leo didn’t respond.  

Evan had expected him to stay quiet, given his usual demeanor.  

But to come at him so boldly?  

This is unexpected.  

Leo knew Evan wasn’t the culprit.  

Mass addiction.  

All sorts of nobles’ sons hooked on drugs.  

The supposed culprit was a baron’s son from the boondocks, whose name wasn’t even worth remembering.  

But those in the know were aware.  

The real culprit.  

Asella Prous was the true mastermind.  

Leo knew this too.  

So why was he targeting Evan?  

Because of a proposal Asella had made not long ago.  

Don’t you want to tear off Evan Alkart’s smug “mask”?  

Leo’s position was precarious.  

He was the closest to being the heir, but only as long as Evan stayed out of the spotlight.  

If Evan kept standing out like this, he might lose his place.  

The one to inherit this family must be me.  

No, it had to be him.  

He needed to keep Evan in check now.  

If Evan kept rising and claimed the heir’s seat, monopolizing power, Leo would surely be a dead man.  

He had to survive and seize power.  

A fierce determination.  

One that would never waver.  

Even despite the threat from that strange kid, Lapis.  

His wrist still ached.  

The barely healed wrist ligament.  

A wound that, if any deeper, could’ve crippled him for life.  

But that was all.  

The injury healed, and Leo survived.  

A trial that didn’t kill him only made him stronger.  

I can’t yield even an inch.  

When Duke Cabaro first told Evan to attend the ball, Leo had expected him to throw a fit.  

Evan usually despised and resented the Duke.  

Surely, he’d rage, “Are you trying to make a clown out of me?!”  

The result was unexpected.  

Evan accepted the proposal obediently.  

And that wasn’t all.  

He was growing bolder by the day.  

Even now, not only did he deny the accusations, but he demanded proof?  

With a lowered voice, no less?  

“I have no proof, but you do.”  

Leo spoke with force.  

“Open your lab and prove your innocence.”  

“You need to prove you didn’t do it. You dare tarnish our family’s honor and demand proof from us?”  

A subtle wordplay.  

A battle of wits.  

“Funny. If you’re so confident, prove it.”  

Proof of “not doing it” versus proof of “doing it.”  

A fight where the slightest loss of momentum meant defeat.  

Evan stared at Leo.  

Eyes devoid of emotion.  

Unconsciously, his lips curled into a smirk.  

An effort to hide the cold sweat.  

At that moment—  

Leonardo Alkart.  

Duke Cabaro’s voice came from beyond the door.  

Observe propriety.  

“…”  

“Father.”  

Cold sweat beaded on Leo’s forehead.  

Was he listening to everything?  

The study was soundproofed with magic.  

It blocked both internal and external noise.  

The only way to deactivate it was by the family head’s will.  

The Duke, who usually kept it active to avoid disturbances, had turned it off?  

Come into the study.  

A firm voice that allowed no refusal.  

Rebellion surged deep in Leo’s chest.  

Why was he protecting that scoundrel?  

Had he been shielding him all along, anticipating this?  

What if that was his true face?  

But the rebellion was just that—rebellion.  

He couldn’t refuse.  

“…Yes, Father.”  

The most defiance he could muster was calling him “Father” instead of “Your Grace.”  

A sign he was addressing him as a father, not a noble.  

Duke Cabaro didn’t reprimand him.  

He merely opened the door with magic, a subtle threat to come in.  

“…”  

“Let’s talk later. I won’t allow our family’s prestige to be tarnished.”  

Leo strode confidently into the room.  

What’s with that idiot?  

Left alone, Evan scratched his ear.  

Ugh, so itchy I could die.  

Time to go sleep.  

***

A strange silence hung in the Duke’s study.  

Leo swallowed dryly.  

His mouth felt parched, his fingertips trembling.  

An oppressive aura weighed down the entire room.  

Yet the Duke was merely reviewing documents, his expression blank.  

Overwhelmed by the atmosphere, Leo remained silent for a while.  

“Leo.”  

Swish.  

The Duke neatly organized his pen and documents, closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and spoke.  

“Why did you corner Evan Alkart? You already know the truth.”  

“…I was testing him.”  

Leo forced his mouth to move.  

His father’s shadow was vast and dark, but he couldn’t back down.  

A wall he’d have to overcome someday.  

No matter the pressure, he wouldn’t yield.  

“Evan Alkart’s infamy is already well-known. I was worried he might be scheming something that could harm the family’s reputation. You know this, Father. So why did you summon me like this?”  

A question laced with the implication of favoritism.  

Duke Cabaro wasn’t fazed.  

As always, he adjusted his posture slowly, clasping his hands.  

His near-golden eyes pinned Leo in place.  

Leo’s face paled slightly.  

“I’m not scolding you for bullying your brother.”  

A heavy voice pressed down on Leo.  

“I simply dislike seeing you swayed by trivial matters.”  

“…”  

“Leo. I know what proposal Lady Asella made to you.”  

He knew… everything?  

Leo’s eyes twitched.  

The communication.  

It was done in secret, of course.  

Outside the mansion.  

Through a force he’d paid to raise, one that moved solely for Leo.  

How did he know about the information exchanged through them?  

“…”  

“Asella Prous. I know that young lady is eyeing our family. Do you really think joining hands with her to eliminate a rival will help you in the succession race?”  

Leo fell silent.  

Rustle.  

Duke Cabaro slowly rose from his seat.  

“Leonardo Alkart. Don’t misunderstand. You don’t eliminate competitors—you surpass them.”  

“…”  

“If you borrow strength from an enemy to push out a rival on the path ahead, do you think you’ll grow?”  

“…”  

“Then what should I do if I face an unbeatable enemy? Just lose?”  

“The moment you think that, you become a loser. Why assume you can’t win?”  

“…”  

Leo couldn’t argue back.  

It was a flawed mindset from the start.  

Born as the family head, a noble, and a strongman, Cabaro never even entertained such thoughts.  

“Whether you become a loser or a conqueror is up to you, Leonardo.”  

The thought of losing.  

Duke Cabaro spoke calmly.  

“Keep that in mind.”  

“I will, Your Grace.”  

“You may leave.”  

“Yes, Your Grace.”  

Perhaps his words had some effect, as Leo addressed him as “Your Grace” instead of “Father.”  

Showing respect as a noble, Leo left the room.  

Left alone, the Duke pressed his thumb and forefinger to his eyes.  

Knock, knock.  

Someone knocked on the door.  

Despite no instruction to open it, the door swung open on its own.  

It was Nataliya.  

When she entered, Cabaro’s expression softened for the first time.  

“My lady.”  

“I saw Leo leaving. Did you talk with him?”  

“It was just my one-sided nagging.”  

“Nagging? Who would think that?”  

Cabaro and Nataliya were a rare case of marrying for love.  

They could share their hearts and comfort each other.  

As Nataliya naturally sat on his lap and gave him a small hug, Duke Cabaro closed his eyes, savoring the moment.  

“…Evan came by today as well.”  

“!”  

Nataliya’s eyes widened.  

“Him too?”  

“Yes.”  

…I thought he’d never come back after Laila’s death.  

Laila.  

A concubine due to her lower status, but a woman Cabaro loved as sincerely as Nataliya.  

Evan’s late mother.  

“Does he still hate you?”  

“Most likely.”  

Duke Cabaro leaned back in his chair, exhausted.  

Nataliya placed her hand over his, intertwining their fingers.  

“He wouldn’t hate you. Not such a foolish father.”  

Cabaro was a born noble, but not a born father.  

The duties and responsibilities he bore were too heavy to make him a good father.  

When Laila began suffering from an incurable illness,  

When Evan begged him to save her somehow,  

All he could say was to maintain propriety.  

That was the duty and responsibility of a noble.  

Favoritism toward one child was unacceptable.  

A fair competition for succession had to take place.  

Even as he watched Evan slowly lose himself to madness, he couldn’t intervene.  

All he could do was quietly, discreetly look after him.  

“Evan… I heard he’s quite talented. His reputation is already widespread.”  

Nataliya spoke with a worried tone.  

“What if Evan really does commit [taboo]…?”  

“Fortunately, he said he’s given up on it.”  

“Really?”  

Joy filled Nataliya’s voice.  

“That’s such a relief…!”  

If Evan committed a [taboo],  

Regardless of success, he’d have to be killed.  

By none other than the family head, Cabaro.  

Thankfully, Evan had abandoned that dream.  

It made him feel both guilty and proud.  

Though he didn’t show it.  

“Has he forgotten Laila?”  

“…Or perhaps he’s turned his resentment toward me.”  

“You…”  

Nataliya looked at him with sad eyes, quietly holding his hand.  

“There’s a rumor going around lately. That Evan is spreading drugs.”  

“I know.”  

“Are you going to step in?”  

If the Duke intervened, the rumor would be quashed in less than a week.  

Such was the weight of the name Duke Alkart.  

But Cabaro shook his head.  

“My involvement wouldn’t look good.”  

In high society, nobles managed their own influence.  

Even when falsely accused, it was the same.  

The moment a parent stepped in, the child lost independence.  

That meant losing the power expected of a noble.  

Even if Evan acted directly, it would be a misstep, given the nickname he bore in the underworld.  

“Then…”  

“I heard he sent a letter to the Saintess before coming here.”  

Perhaps he’d anticipated such rumors.  

A child who’d grown sensitive since Laila’s death.  

Though he’d changed lately.  

“Really…”  

Anticipating so much and preparing solutions in advance.  

It was almost like…  

“He takes after you.”  

Laila.  

His late mother.  

***

Meanwhile, at the Main Temple of the Sun Church.  

The Saintess looked at the letter Arthur had personally delivered, letting out a laugh.  

“Hehehe.”  

Cold sweat trickled down her forehead.  

The Saintess wiped it away, forcing a relaxed smile.  

“What has our little Young Master taken issue with this time?”  

The bishop leading the heretics who worshipped a forgotten god.  

Bishop Blake had been delivered, bound and gagged.  

[Mmph, mmph!]  

You’ll like it. 

Use it where needed.  

Along with a single letter.