* * *
Ranshel would leave as soon as the evening bell rang—skipping a free meal was unthinkable.
But Zavad, who had no way of knowing that, hesitated for a long time before finally loosening the grip on his leg and slowly extending his hand.
‘He’s got that look that screams, “Hurry up and get lost.”’
He probably hoped Ranshel would quit like the other servants had.
Too bad.
This rude little servant was going to stick around until the young master reached adulthood and found his destined partner—whether either of them wanted it or not.
Grow up quickly and come cut off my head already.
Ranshel smirked unconsciously as he examined the wound.
Fortunately, although it was bleeding, it wasn’t too deep.
He pressed the cloth firmly against the cut to stop the bleeding.
It must have hurt like hell, but aside from a slight furrowing of his brows, Zavad didn’t make a sound.
For a kid his age, he sure had a lot of patience.
Once the bleeding showed signs of slowing, Ranshel wrapped the remaining cloth around Zavad’s hand.
‘He needs proper treatment.’
Stopping the bleeding was one thing, but it wasn’t real medical care.
That wasn’t Ranshel’s job.
“If you leave it like this, it’ll get infected. I’ll go call a physician. If you get sick, what do you think will happen to me?”
“……”
“And don’t touch any more glass. Just sit still. I’ll be back soon.”
Ranshel folded up his tattered sleeve and spoke coldly.
That should be enough to avoid looking like he actually cared.
Just in case, he kicked the shards of glass under his shoe, shoving them farther into the corner before leaving the room.
He didn’t feel comfortable cleaning up while leaving the injured boy alone.
‘What if the wound gets infected?’
Ranshel hurried down the stairs, practically running, when he ran into a familiar face at the end of the hallway—Gary.
“Oh, you’re hurt?”
Gary’s eyes widened at the sight of blood on Ranshel’s hands.
“No, it’s not mine. The young master—”
“Oh my god. It’s gotten that bad now?”
Gary cut him off with a near scream and started stomping his feet in distress.
“Oh no, this is terrifying. Lord above, please don’t let any evil spirits come after me!”
He even threw his arms up toward the heavens, his eyes welling up with tears.
Ranshel was now certain—this bastard was definitely possessed by something.
“No, I mean the young master got hurt—”
“Please, I don’t want to be possessed and start spilling blood like him!”
“It’s not some evil spirit—”
Gary wasn’t even listening.
He kept muttering some sort of prayer, then suddenly snapped his head up.
“Has the young master finally lost his mind for real?”
“Well… he did seem a bit out of it. He suddenly sliced his own hand on the glass, so I was going to get a physician—”
“Oh, dear Lord! Please, have mercy on this humble servant!”
“I SAID I WAS GOING TO GET A PHYSICIAN!”
Ranshel finally snapped and raised his voice.
That, at last, made Gary fall silent.
Looking pale as a ghost, Gary anxiously glanced around before lowering his voice to a whisper.
“No, you can’t. Keep your voice down. You can’t say that out loud.”
“…What? What are you talking about?”
“You said you were going to call a physician. You can’t just say that so carelessly!”
“What do you mean? He’s injured. Of course, I have to call one.”
“Oh my god. No. Please, don’t involve me in this. If rumors spread that he got hurt because of me, I’m dead. Seriously.”
Gary shook his head frantically.
Ranshel pressed his lips together.
If he opened his mouth now, he might start cursing before he could stop himself.
‘What the hell am I supposed to do with this guy?’
Ranshel had a pretty good idea why Gary was acting crazy.
It was the same reason Zavad suffered constant emotional abuse but was never physically harmed.
It wasn’t just because he was a noble.
Zavad had imperial blood running through his veins—blood directly linked to the highest throne.
His mother, Sharot Veliche, had been the emperor’s most beloved mistress.
His so-called father, Benjet Pomel, despised him but never dared to raise a hand against him.
Instead, he simply pretended Zavad didn’t exist.
That was the price of his sacred lineage.
Zavad had survived to this day solely because of that lineage.
He had to live until he grew up.
People wanted him to suffer but never to die.
But that was a separate issue.
Right now, the kid was injured.
Ranshel let out a slow sigh and spoke in the most pitiful voice he could muster.
“I swear I won’t mention you. Just get a physician. Do you think I’ll be fine if he’s left like that? I’m his assigned servant.”
Gary made a face full of sympathy, as if he truly felt bad for Ranshel.
Then he said the stupidest thing imaginable.
“Well… that’s just how it is. It’s divine punishment. You must’ve done something to anger the gods. Don’t worry too much. With the power of prayer, you’ll get through this.”
…This bastard.
Ranshel gave Gary the sweetest smile he could manage and grabbed his shoulder.
“I’m not going down alone. If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”
“Huh?!”
“No, actually—I’ll say you ordered it. I’ll testify that you told me to kill the young master.”
“Gasp—!”
“We’re in the same boat now. If I die, you’re coming with me. We were born in the same year, so let’s die in the same year too. Headstones are expensive anyway, so let’s just share a grave.”
Ranshel grinned darkly, spewing nonsense without hesitation.
For the first time, Gary, who had been trembling uncontrollably, finally started talking sense.
“O-okay! You don’t have to do that. The physician visits every week anyway. He’ll be here tomorrow. Just wait until then and pretend you don’t know anything.”
“What if something happens before then?”
“It’s just a hand wound, not a stab to the stomach! He’ll be fine. Just—please, don’t drag me into this anymore. Got it?”
Oh, dear god!
Gerry flailed his arms dramatically as he fled.
Ranshel wanted nothing more than to smack the back of his head as he ran off, but he held himself back.
Was it even possible for him to become the biggest villain here?
Considering these demonic bastards, it didn’t seem likely.
Panting, Ranshel placed his foot on the final step.
He really needed to work on his stamina.
Sure, there were a lot of stairs, but getting this exhausted was ridiculous.
‘It’s just part of the character traits… but still.’
Upon reaching the top floor, he noticed something new next to Zavad’s door—a tray covered with a cloth.
Lifting the cover cautiously, Ranshel took one look at the contents and smacked his forehead.
From what he had gathered so far, the duties of Zavad’s assigned servant included maintaining the cleanliness of the room and managing the young master’s health.
And now, there was one more responsibility added to the list.
‘So no one’s been feeding him this whole time?!’
The servant was supposed to ensure that the young master ate.
There was someone responsible for delivering the meals to the door, but actually bringing them inside and setting them before Zavad was his job.
Of course, he hadn’t known that until now.
‘Whoever did it before doesn’t matter. It’s my job now.’
It was obvious in hindsight, but there had been too many other distractions for him to think about it.
For the first time, Ranshel genuinely felt sorry for Zavad.
A kid his age shouldn’t be skipping meals.
Carrying the tray, he stepped into the room.
He knocked again, but there was no response, so he just opened the door.
Unlike before, the young master was not curled up in the chair.
“Young master?”
* * *
