* * *
Whatever was written in that letter, Joel was so absorbed in reading it that he didn’t even notice the Crown Prince’s gaze fixed on him.
Joel’s expression shifted dramatically as he read — first pale, then white as a sheet, and finally, bright red with fury.
The Crown Prince cautiously spoke.
“Are you… alright?”
But by that point, Joel was so stunned he couldn’t hear a thing. Instead, he quietly started sorting through the letter’s contents in his head.
‘So you’re telling me my dad got duped by some cult leader and blew the entire family fortune on him? And he missed his chance to flee overseas because he was too busy handing over money to that bastard?’
‘Then what about the escape plan I’ve been bleeding from my nose over to put together…? It’s all gone up in smoke, huh?’
Having come to a painfully clear understanding, Joel abruptly stood up and grabbed the nearest butter knife.
“I’m gonna kill them all!”
“Whoa, whoa! Calm down.”
Startled, the Crown Prince quickly followed suit and grabbed Joel before he could storm off.
“Joel, I understand you’re angry. But if you act on emotion, you’ll ruin everything. Calm down first. And also… you can’t kill anyone with a butter knife.”
He gently soothed Joel and guided him back to his seat.
Joel had feared something was wrong, especially after not hearing a word from Lord Bennet or the estate manager for over two months — but never had he imagined his father would pull something this insane.
He was dumbfounded.
To calm him down, the Crown Prince ordered a fresh spread of tea and cakes.
Only after devouring three thick slices of strawberry cake and downing two cups of milk tea — generously sweetened and with plenty of milk — did Joel finally begin to regain his composure.
“I owe you a debt,” the Crown Prince said.
“So I’ll personally go inspect the situation and resolve it. I promise you, I’ll retrieve both your father and the lost estate. It might take about a month at most… Joel, since this involves your father, wouldn’t you like to come along?”
“Me?”
Joel, still furious and shoveling cake into his mouth, looked up with cream all over his lips.
A flicker of hesitation appeared in Joel’s pale blue eyes.
His beloved father was in danger — of course he wanted to go.
‘But… he wasn’t alone anymore.’
And now that his father had lost everything, he needed to prepare escape funds as soon as possible.
Even if he started prepping now, there was no guarantee he’d be able to flee before his belly started showing.
He simply didn’t have time to accompany the Crown Prince on some inspection trip.
After a brief internal struggle, Joel made up his mind: he wouldn’t get involved.
But that decision was far from easy.
‘How could anyone easily choose between their beloved father and their beloved child?’
Joel was barely holding back tears.
Still, the Crown Prince was a man who always kept his word. Joel believed he would save his father.
And if his own escape succeeded, there would be plenty of chances to reunite with him later.
‘As long as he could flee successfully without anyone discovering he was pregnant with the Crown Prince’s child.’
Right now, escaping was Joel’s top priority.
His heart ached with worry for his father, but to protect the child growing inside him, he had to stay cold.
“I’m not going,” he said.
“Even though it’s about your own father?”
Joel had rejected him with such difficulty, and yet the Crown Prince — completely missing the emotional weight behind it — asked again.
Joel felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes.
But he held them back and responded in a clear voice.
“Yes. I’m not going. Your Highness is wise. I’m sure you’ll handle everything just fine. There’s no reason for me to go. Besides, I’d only be a burden.”
“But… you’ll have to go.”
The Crown Prince suddenly pulled a neatly folded sheet of paper from his robes and held it up for Joel to see.
Joel’s eyes instinctively skimmed the top of the document.
“…What is this… a servant contract?”
That’s exactly what it was — a personal servant contract.
“Your adoptive father sent it to me a month ago. According to this, you’re to serve by my side for the next six months — including at night. That means you’ll be coming with me on the inspection.”
“…Excuse me?!”
“Why so surprised? Count Lucas said you signed this yourself.”
The Crown Prince pointed to the bottom of the document, where a bright red fingerprint seal marked the page.
Joel stared at it, stunned.
A servant contract?
He had never heard of such a thing.
As he stood there in disbelief, a long-forgotten memory suddenly flickered to the front of his mind.
About a month ago, hadn’t his adoptive father randomly prepared a lavish dinner just for him?
Usually, the man watched Joel like a hawk, not even letting him sneak a piece of bread — but that day, he’d told Joel to eat as much as he wanted.
Count Lucas always used “weight control” as an excuse to practically starve Joel, while lavishing his own biological son with rich veal roasts and butter-fried mushrooms.
Back then — before Joel had regressed, when he still held some shred of trust in his adoptive father — he believed it when the man said it was all “training” to gain the Crown Prince’s favor.
But now, Joel understood.
That abuse wasn’t training. It was deliberate — a way to break him, make him more compliant.
His adoptive father had psychologically manipulated him with ruthless precision.
That’s why Joel had gone along with the fake pregnancy scheme, and later, taken all the blame on his own.
After returning in time, Joel had zero intention of obeying him anymore.
But all the staff in the count’s manor were basically the man’s limbs — so even post-regression, Joel continued to live half-starved.
At least back when he was still in the royal academy, balls and banquets gave him opportunities to sneak food.
But after graduating and returning to the manor, apples and potatoes were all he ever saw.
He was withering away.
So when he finally saw a proper meal after nearly a month — his mouth watered just looking at it.
His adoptive father had smiled benevolently and sliced off a juicy chunk of roast pig, placing it on Joel’s plate.
It was Joel’s favorite food.
And he lost all self-control.
For some reason, the man didn’t stop there.
After stuffing the table with a feast, he even offered Joel a piece of land.
He handed over some paper and asked Joel to seal it.
Joel had been too distracted by the food to read it — and so his adoptive father had taken Joel’s left hand, pressed it into an ink pad, and sealed the paper himself.
And now, Joel instinctively knew:
‘That was the contract.’
‘Not a land transfer agreement.’
He thought his adoptive father gave him that in order to look good in front of the Crown Prince—but it turned out to be a scam?
Joel had always known his adoptive father was a piece of garbage, but even so, this was beyond belief.
Joel immediately snatched the contract out of the Crown Prince’s hand, intending to rip it apart, but the prince was quicker in pulling it back.
Joel sprang to his feet and protested.
“This is fraud! It’s deception!”
“Fraud? But you personally sealed it with your own fingerprint.”
“But I wasn’t in my right mind when I did that!”
“Oh? If you weren’t in your right mind, were you drunk or something?”
“…Something like that.”
Joel replied in a less-than-confident voice.
Technically, he had been eating at the time, but mentally, he might as well have been completely drunk.
His mind had been that fogged up.
So in the end, it wasn’t much different from being intoxicated.
Fortunately, the Crown Prince seemed to accept this explanation.
“Hmm, then I can’t force you. That contract won’t hold any weight, then.”
“So you’re saying I don’t have to go?”
After a brief pause, the prince asked again, and Joel responded in a firm, resolute tone.
“Yes. Absolutely, definitely not going.”
“Understood. Then I’ll take it that you’re not coming.”
The Crown Prince nodded without much hesitation.
The fact that he gave up so easily left Joel with a strange sense of unease.
The Crown Prince was known for being stubborn—once he set his mind on something, he never backed down.
Joel was trying to gauge the prince’s intentions with a suspicious glare when the Crown Prince suddenly muttered, loud enough for him to hear:
“Well then, I suppose I’ll have to send the luggage your adoptive father sent back to the Count’s estate. That’s unfortunate. Benjamin seemed pretty pleased when he heard you’d be joining us…”
“W-Wait. Benjamin is going too?”
“Yes.”
For the past three years, the name “Benjamin” coming from the Crown Prince’s lips had been like a trigger that flipped Joel’s insides upside down—and this time was no different.
* * *
