Chapter 3: The Intention Behind the Paper

“Now that I’ve shown my face, all that’s left is to get closer to him.”

Rohan walked out of the records archive with a pleased smile on his face.

If he tried to approach too aggressively from the start, he might arouse strange suspicions, so he’d chosen to assign work as a pretense, naturally breaking the ice.

Seeing Zenon look at him with a baffled expression made Rohan truly realize he’d returned to the past.

‘I will not repeat the same mistakes.’

If only he’d had a bit more courage then, the future would surely have changed.

Rohan recalled the countless loyal subjects executed in blood and the commoners who starved to death amidst the wars.

The bitter past was carved deep in his heart and would remain there for life.

“Now I can change it. No, I must change it.”

Rohan clenched his fists and made a vow to himself.

As long as he had returned to the past, there would be no more innocent victims sacrificed to the Fabian Marquis’ lust for power.

At that moment, someone came running toward Rohan, out of breath.

“Your Highness, you’re here!”

Rohan recognized the man standing before him and called out his name with delight.

“Martin!”

“Your Highness…?”

Martin flinched at Rohan’s warm welcome.

But Rohan continued, unfazed.

“Where have you been? I was wondering why I hadn’t seen you around.”

“You said you wanted to be alone yesterday, so you gave me leave.”

“Ah, that’s right.”

Hearing that, the memory came back at once.

It must have been the time when he’d been depressed after hearing people say even the cats ignored the Second Prince—this was exactly that period.

He still vividly remembered hiding in his room until the scar on his chin had fully healed.

Rohan let out a small laugh.

“I’ve changed my mind. A man needs to get some fresh air now and then to feel better, don’t you think?”

Martin’s expression grew curious at Rohan’s words.

The prince had changed suddenly.

Was it possible he’d been shocked by yesterday’s rumors?

His eyes became complicated.

‘So easy to read.’

It was obvious what Martin was probably thinking, and Rohan smiled inwardly.

He was the one who had stayed by Rohan’s side the longest.

He might look like a wild horse, but he never scorned or belittled others; he was upright, fiercely loyal.

Even when Rohan was nothing more than a puppet emperor suffering unjust treatment, or when he moved secretly against the Marquis, Martin had been silently at his side.

‘After I died… what happened to you?’

No doubt, being one of his close aides, the Fabian Marquis wouldn’t have let him go.

Did Martin die too?

Thinking about it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Martin, was it this year you became my royal guard?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Rohan recalled that Martin had been newly knighted and immediately assigned as a guard to the Second Prince.

The reason he’d ended up at Rohan’s side, of all possible posts.

That was because, among the knightly houses, Martin was from a powerless branch family.

A Second Prince with only a single knight for formality, shunned by all, and the knight who was assigned to guard such a prince after being rejected from many other places.

Looking at it now, their circumstances were truly pitiful.

Rohan cleared his throat and spoke up.

“So, are you still training alone in the mornings these days?”

“How did you know?”

Martin stared at Rohan with wide eyes.

Martin knew his own position well, but if there was something different about Martin at this time compared to Rohan’s fourteen-year-old self, it was this.

Martin was fully aware of the limits of rank that a branch family knight could rise to.

Yet he never neglected his training, and when Rohan became emperor, Martin had confidently passed the imperial guard examination and remained by his side.

Imperial guards were a prestigious position reserved for only the elite among knights. Rohan could easily imagine how much effort Martin must have put in over the years to reach that height.

‘Honestly, he was an amazing guy.’

With that skill, he could have gone anywhere else.

Yet, he’d stayed by Rohan’s side, walking a thorny path to the end.

Now that he’d returned to the past, he could finally see all these things.

Rohan smiled softly and asked,

“Have you eaten?”

“…?”

Martin narrowed his eyes.

He looked as if he wondered if he’d misheard.

“Why are you looking at me like that? If you haven’t eaten, let’s go together.”

“…”

Rohan had always found his presence burdensome.

For Rohan to suggest eating together—

Martin felt odd at his lord’s sudden change overnight.

“…Yes, Your Highness.”

Martin reluctantly nodded, unable to hide his strange expression.

Thus, Rohan and Martin headed to their quarters.

The Boronia Palace—a small palace in the farthest corner of the vast imperial city.

---

That day happened to be a day for lessons.

After eating, the two of them squabbled a bit in front of the study.

“You don’t have anything to do anyway, so why not go take care of your own business?”

“This is my business, Your Highness.”

Martin answered, firmly taking his place in front of the study door.

“Come on, no one ever comes here. You know how unpopular Boronia Palace is.”

“You are a prince of the Empire, Your Highness.”

“Only in name. Who would bother trying to harm me?”

“Complacency is the most dangerous thing.”

“…”

Rohan smacked his lips.

Stubborn as ever.

Just looking at him, you could almost see the word “unyielding” written on his face.

His shaggy hair down to his shoulders and his firm lips—unusual for a knight.

Maybe his exile to this place wasn’t just because of his background.

“Ah, right.”

A sudden idea made Rohan’s eyes gleam.

“Wait here. I might need you in a minute.”

Rohan grabbed the door handle.

Click.

Entering the study, he found the assigned tutor already waiting.

“You’re here.”

The tutor greeted him with a perfunctory nod.

“Yeah.”

Rohan decided to match the tutor’s nonchalance.

The teacher raised an eyebrow and pushed over a sheet of paper and a pen.

He couldn’t even remember this teacher’s name.

‘He slacked off so much that I remember his face, but not his name.’

“Here, Your Highness. Let’s write this today.”

“Alright, let’s give it a try.”

What the teacher was instructing wasn’t special imperial studies or high-level knowledge for a prince.

Dictation, reading, writing, and a bit of arithmetic.

Normally, Rohan should have received formal royal education.

But this trash of a teacher, sent by the Imperial Household Department, endlessly repeated only the most basic lessons suitable for children.

‘I found out later this was also linked to the Fabian Marquis.’

The Marquis had made his move as soon as Rohan entered the imperial palace.

So that he would remain blind, even with eyes.

So that he would remain deaf, even with ears.

‘Thanks to him, I spent my years as a prince known as a fool.’

The Marquis’ schemes had started this far back, and by the time Rohan learned the truth, it was already too late.

“…Your Highness.”

“…”

“…Your Highness?”

“What is it?”

Lost in thought, Rohan finally looked up at the call.

“Are you finished?”

“…”

Rohan looked down at the dictation paper.

He’d scribbled aimlessly while distracted, so the handwriting was utterly illegible.

The teacher looked at it in dismay.

“Uh… were you practicing cursive or something?”

“Who knows.”

The teacher scratched his chin, looking at the paper in distress, then spoke.

“Well… how should I put this…! Yes! This is the most unique cursive I’ve ever seen. It’s so lively, it looks as if worms are crawling across the page. Let’s finish today’s lesson here.”

After that came a soulless evaluation—he just wanted to finish quickly.

Rohan stood up, nodding.

“Fine, let’s stop here. In fact, today’s lesson is the last.”

“What do you mean…?”

“You.”

“…?”

Rohan made a slicing motion across his neck, smiling at the teacher hurriedly gathering his things.

“You’re fired as of today.”

“What?”

The teacher’s rat-like mustache twitched.

Rohan spoke quietly but firmly.

“I’m heading straight to the Imperial Household Department. What do you think about that?”

“W-what? Why? Today’s lesson went fine, and…”

Bang!

Rohan slapped the teaching materials onto the desk.

“Really? Even after seeing this?”

“It’s just like always…”

“That’s the problem.”

Rohan grabbed the papers and left the study with a smile, the startled teacher stumbling after him.

Passing by Martin, Rohan said,

“Keep that man in the study.”

“Understood.”

Though he didn’t know what was going on, Martin bowed and grabbed the teacher by the collar as he followed after Rohan.

“You’re not leaving this room.”

“Ugh! H-hey! What are you doing? Your Highness! Your Highness! Are you some thug? S-stop it! Let go at once!”

“I can’t.”

Leaving behind the teacher’s red-faced protests and Martin’s firm tone,

Rohan headed straight for the Imperial Household Department.

Boronia Palace was remote, but it had one advantage.

“Oh, I can see it right there.”

That was its proximity to ‘Eastern Palace’, where all the management departments were clustered.

Like a charging beast, Rohan entered the Eastern Palace and climbed the stairs.

‘I know this place inside out.’

After walking down the wide corridor a bit, he saw a sign reading ‘Imperial Household Department.’

Crash!

Rohan kicked open the door. Everyone inside jumped up in surprise.

“What’s going on?”

“What happened?”

“Who is that?”

Rohan wore plain clothes, and few knew his face, so nobody here recognized him.

Naturally, the department was thrown into chaos.

After a moment, the department head came out, fuming at the commotion.

“What’s all this noise?”

“Well… someone barged in all of a sudden.”

“Who?”

The department head turned, furious, and saw Rohan’s face.

“Huh, just some kid…”

But then his eyes widened.

“…Gasp!”

“What’s wrong, Chief? Do you know this kid?”

“Your son, perhaps…?”

“E-e-everyone be quiet!”

At the chief’s shout, the room fell silent.

With a pale face, he bowed and asked,

“Second Prince, wh-what brings you here…?”

“…!”

“That’s the Second Prince?”

“That’s the one from the rumors…”

Their reactions were so predictable, Rohan almost laughed.

“Do you have any business with our department, Your Highness?”

At least the chief knew Rohan’s face.

Responding to the chief, Rohan threw the teaching materials to the floor.

With a slap, expensive paper scattered everywhere.

The air in the department turned frigid at the sight.

They now realized something was seriously wrong.

Rohan, arms crossed, spoke up.

“What’s your name?”

“Hobbs Brizner, Your Highness!”

The chief introduced himself stoutly.

“Good, Hobbs.”

Rohan lifted his chin as he spoke.

“I came here myself because I have a question.”

“A question…? About what, exactly…?”

Rohan flicked his finger, pointing to the floor.

Specifically, at the scattered teaching materials.

“I thought, as the department chief, you’d know this. Are these really the proper materials for a prince’s education?”

“Excuse me? Well, that’s…”

Was the question unexpected?

Hobbs stiffened in that moment.

‘So, he does know.’

Seeing his reaction, Rohan grew certain. He stepped close, grinding the papers under his heel, and whispered near the chief.

“Don’t you think it’s strange? The teaching materials for a prince are just dictation sheets for little children. I think there’s an ‘intention’ behind this. How about we have a little chat about it?”

“…!”

Smile.

Rohan grinned, and Hobbs’ face turned so pale, it looked almost blue.