* * *
Following behind the Marquis, the disguised knight swallowed nervously, thankful his identity hadn’t been exposed.
The Marquis didn’t bother memorizing every servant’s face.
“No one is to go up to the third floor.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Marquis gave the order at the entrance of the largest room, then descended the stairs.
‘I made it. I didn’t get caught!’
Fortunately, his strikingly average face worked in his favor.
The knight quickly moved to prepare for the arrival of the independence fighters.
‘Knock knock.’
Once the servant had gone, Karl deliberately knocked on the door.
He hoped Sylvian would be frightened by the noise and then feel relief upon seeing his face.
“You nutjob. Just come in.”
Julian muttered a quiet curse at the knock, following the Duke’s instructions to impersonate the Duchess.
He had already changed into the prearranged outfit.
The excuse was that the Marquis had never actually seen the Duchess’s altered appearance, so they’d sneakily added a little height to Julian.
Even if he retained his strength and ability, being too short would’ve put him at a disadvantage.
Tch.
Julian clamped his mouth shut, pulled a blanket over himself, and hid behind the curtain.
The thought of Karl being startled by what he saw made him scowl, but also smirk a little.
There was probably no one better suited to this mission than him.
With a sly grin, he pressed himself against the wall, trembling.
Knock. Knock knock.
Karl’s attempt to pressure the “Duchess” through psychological means had no effect on Julian, who was yawning under the blanket.
Listening carefully, Karl clicked his tongue when he heard nothing and finally opened the door.
“Lady Sylvian?”
The large room was cloaked in darkness.
The curtains were all drawn, and beams of afternoon light streamed faintly through the crack in the door.
In the dim, diffused light, Karl spotted a small figure curled up against the wall by the window.
“Huuuh…”
A faint whimper and trembling body confirmed that it was who he was looking for.
“Are you alright?”
Hidden in the next room through a small hole, Zeroth listened to Karl’s voice, which was as gently crafted as ever.
“I was so worried when you suddenly disappeared. Are you hurt anywhere?”
Despite the concern in his voice, Sylvian gave no response.
That was odd.
Karl scanned the room, on edge.
The eerie stillness was suspicious.
The curtain surrounding the small body swayed gently—clearly he was trembling in fear.
Click.
The lights came on.
Karl looked at the bundled blanket beneath the curtain and the small, bashfully exposed foot—and licked his dry lips unconsciously.
“Lady Sylvian, it’s me. Karl Rooster.”
Even when he called out in a voice tinged with desperation, there was no answer.
Had he really been scared into complete silence?
“I know you must be frightened. But now, we can go back to the Duke.”
Karl moved cautiously, trying to calm Sylvian with soft reassurances.
‘Ugh, this slimy bastard.’
Behind the curtain, Julian’s face twisted grotesquely under the blanket.
Karl’s syrupy voice, sickeningly sweet and soothing, made his stomach churn.
Sniffle, sniffle.
Realizing he couldn’t stay silent forever, Julian recalled the Duchess’s soft sobs.
He tried to mimic her voice, but couldn’t quite manage the delicate tone, which annoyed him.
“Lady Sylvian, we must hurry and escape. There’s no time.”
Unable to bear the silence any longer, Karl finally acted.
He stepped up to the curtain and cautiously reached out.
Before he could touch it, Julian shut his eyes and poked hard under them with his fingers.
‘Ow, damn.’
With tears welling in his eyes, he gently gripped the curtain’s edge—deliberately letting his hands tremble as a bonus.
Sniffle.
Karl nearly laughed seeing the trembling Sylvian peek out from the curtain.
The appearance was entirely different, yet the tearful eyes and frightened expression were exactly the same.
If only Zeroth could see this.
“You should return to the duke’s household, shouldn’t you?”
After completely falling apart, that is.
As Karl offered a gentle smile, Julian’s gaze—still pretending to be the frightened duchess—swept past him.
Karl’s hand softly grasped Julian’s wrist. Though Julian wanted to curse, he bit his tongue.
His body trembled with rage.
His small frame was swiftly lifted into the marquis’s arms.
‘Wow, I really want to kill this bastard.’
“I’ll escort you to the duke shortly.”
“Hrk…”
“There, there. Don’t cry. I came for you, didn’t I?”
The marquis’s gentle demeanor was suspicious.
He had clearly been the one who kidnapped the duchess, yet he was acting like he hadn’t done a thing.
“R-Really?”
“Yes. I no longer have any business with you.”
There was a dagger in Karl’s hand.
He’d been thinking about it the entire ride in the carriage.
It wasn’t right to defile Sylvian any further.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to die together, so no one would ever learn the truth.
He couldn’t go on being haunted by Hailey’s ghost forever.
Karl, gazing at Sylvian nestled in his arms, gave a faint smile.
“Maybe dying together wouldn’t be so bad.”
“What did you just say, you son of a bitch? You’re killing an innocent person now?”
Julian exploded with a vicious curse, having overheard Karl’s quiet murmur.
He had planned to wait and see what Karl would do for the sake of the plan, but he couldn’t hold back anymore.
“What… What did you say?”
“I called you a son of a bitch, you pathetic bastard.”
Karl thought Sylvian had gone mad.
Even a mouse will bite when cornered, after all.
But when he looked into those cold, fearless eyes, he realized that wasn’t it.
“Who are you?”
“Who else? Sylvian Graham.”
Even as he cursed under his breath, Julian didn’t reveal his true identity.
“What’s wrong? You scared just because I suddenly started cursing? Weren’t you the one saying we should die together?”
His tone was grating.
Karl, with a hardened face, raised his blade to the other’s neck.
“You wretched bastard. You’re not even worthy of licking the duke’s boots.”
“You’ve gone insane.”
This wasn’t Sylvian.
The duchess Karl knew wouldn’t curse like this, no matter how furious.
And that voice—it was vaguely familiar.
Which meant the real Sylvian probably hadn’t collapsed into his arms from the start.
“What now, going to kill me?”
“You’re not Sylvian, so it doesn’t matter. Die looking like that. It’ll make it easier to fake Sylvian’s death.”
Karl, somewhat relieved he didn’t have to kill the real Sylvian, swung his sword at Julian.
Clang!
The sword aimed for his throat was blocked by a short dagger.
Julian broke free from Karl’s grip.
So his tail’s been stepped on.
Clicking his tongue, Karl stepped back and opened the door—
Wham!
“Ugh!”
* * *
Julian should have more lines in the story, the few chapters that he has appeared is so funny. Thank you translator-nim!