Last wish of the Guide chapter 5

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“So this is the guy, huh? The guide the Duke brought in?”

“…Mr. Harrison, that sort of language is not appropriate when speaking to His Grace’s guide.”

“Yeah, yeah, enough with the nagging.”

Striding toward them was a young man, probably in his early twenties.

Jet-black hair, sharp, cold features, and vivid pink eyes that looked nearly red under the sunlight…

“And calling him a ‘guide’? Please. He’ll just get thrown out in a month like the rest.”

In other words—he looked exactly like the deceased Euston Rosendale.

‘Why…’

Euston was so stunned he couldn’t say a word.

The youth, looking so impossibly like his former self, walked right up to him and stopped.

He was decked out in expensive accessories and fine clothing, yet his conduct was anything but noble.

It was unbelievable.

For someone like this to appear in a place like this…

As Euston stood frozen, doubting his own eyes, the young man—Harrison—leaned in close and spoke in a tone utterly lacking in refinement.

“You’re real pretty. Prettiest guide I’ve seen around the estate, honestly.”

Euston clenched his teeth in silence.

The Euston of the past would have put such an impudent brat in his place without hesitation—but the shock was too great for any response.

Perhaps seeing his silence as weakness, the black-haired youth grinned and lightly tapped Euston on the shoulder, whispering close to his ear.

“Let’s get along for the next month, yeah?”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away with a lazy wave.

Arrogant, rude—absolutely insufferable.

Even after that young man disappeared, Euston remained in a daze for quite some time.

His frozen mind couldn’t begin to process what had just occurred before his eyes.

By the time he finally came to his senses, the first words out of his mouth were, unsurprisingly, about the mysterious young man who had just vanished.

“Who was that?”

Euston managed to force the words out, his voice barely holding.

It was difficult for him to believe that Arhan—of all people—would keep someone like that near.

Someone so insolent.

Someone who looked disturbingly similar to him, the very person Arhan despised with every fiber of his being: Euston Rosendale.

“Who is he, that His Grace would allow such an arrogant man into the ducal estate?”

“Mind your words, Mr. Rael.”

Euston’s expression twisted further.

Then came something even more incomprehensible to his ears.

“He’s called Enoch Harrison. A young man His Grace holds in very high regard. It would be wise not to offend him. You’ll likely run into each other often during your stay.”

Enoch Harrison.

The name was unfamiliar, but what truly stunned him was the notion that Arhan cherished this man.

“Is he a Guide? Or perhaps an Arete?”

“Neither.”

“Then is he some distant relative of the Evernell duchy?”

As far as Euston knew, there was no noble family by the name Harrison.

As expected, Renfield shook his head in response.

And when that answer came, it hit Euston like a bolt from the heavens.

“No, he’s not. If anything… you might call him His Grace’s lover.”

Lover.

Arhan’s lover.

The moment those two inconceivable words reached him, Euston felt his heart drop with a loud thud.

It was as if something had crushed his chest.

A sharp pain bloomed slowly from deep within.

“His Grace’s… lover?”

“That’s right.”

No matter how many times he turned it over in his mind, the truth didn’t change.

Unfortunately, his ears were functioning all too well.

His stomach churned from the unexpected blow.

That man—how could someone like that possibly be Arhan’s lover?

It was already unbearable that Arhan had taken a lover, but what made it worse—far worse—was the face of that man, Enoch Harrison.

A lover. Fine. It could happen.

In recent years, their relationship had been little more than one-sided hatred and cold, unreciprocated affection.

As sad as it was, it wasn’t exactly shocking.

But that face…

‘Why? Why would he…’

Why would the Duke of Evernell keep someone so eerily similar to his past self?

His eyelids trembled. Euston clenched his fists, trying to suppress the shaking in his fingers.

Then, struggling to speak, he forced out the question.

“How could His Grace… take someone like that as his lover…?”

“There’s no way for us to know what’s in His Grace’s heart. And to be exact, they’re not officially lovers. His Grace merely treats Mr. Harrison as if he were.”

“…”

“Still, His Grace treasures him deeply. So it would be best to avoid any unnecessary conflict.”

‘Treasures him,’ he said.

The Duke of Evernell… that man…

Even as confusion threatened to pull the ground out from beneath him, Euston’s thoughts scrambled forward.

Enoch Harrison was crude—rude beyond belief—and his manners, his speech, everything about him was low and base.

He couldn’t imagine Arhan being charmed by such a character.

Then… was it his appearance that matched Arhan’s tastes?

At first, he’d thought no, absolutely not—but now, it might make a terrifying kind of sense.

The Arhan he knew never hesitated to strip him down, mock him, and violate him with cruelty, even as he scorned and looked down on him.

‘…I always thought it was just because he hated me.’

But maybe Arhan had been drawn to his body, after all.

A hollow, bitter conclusion.

The pain in his chest throbbed.

Was it just my appearance that stirred his lust?

Is that why… even while cursing me, you still came back to hold me, again and again?

‘Was I… nothing more than a tool to satisfy your desire?’

Despite the roughness, the cruelty Arhan inflicted each time they met, Euston had clung to those moments, treasuring them as if they were the warmth of someone he loved.

Even the scars left by Arhan’s violence—he couldn’t bring himself to heal them.

He had kissed them in secret, holding them dear.

That man who had been so cruel and merciless to him—how did he treat Enoch?

Did he smile at him kindly? Hold him gently? Whisper sweet nothings in his ear?

The questions gnawed at him, and eventually, Euston forced himself to stop imagining it.

It was too painful.

And honestly, he had no right to feel this way in the first place.

His personality, his behavior, his past—none of it was deserving of love.

Worse still, he had murdered Arhan’s Guide in cold blood.

How Arhan chose to treat him now… Euston had no right to protest.

“…Anyway, Mr. Rael. I trust you understand why I’m telling you all this?”

Renfield’s voice snapped him out of the endless spiral of thoughts.

Of course Euston understood the meaning behind those words.

It was a warning.

A clear attempt to keep him quiet.

To make sure no word of Arhan and Enoch Harrison’s relationship leaked beyond these walls.

And clearly, the silence had been well maintained.

Euston hadn’t heard a single whisper of Enoch before entering the mansion.

Were they trying to protect Enoch Harrison? Or Arhan’s reputation?

Foolishly, pathetically, Euston found himself hoping it was the latter.

“…Of course.”

“Then please, follow me.”

Renfield resumed walking, and Euston followed.

The soft sound of footsteps echoed as they climbed the stairs, eventually stopping at one of the many doors lining the corridor.

When Renfield opened it, a comfortably furnished room came into view—spacious, with its own bath, study, and bedroom.

It was clean, well-appointed—fit for a member of the noble family.

More than generous for a Guide of common birth, but to Euston, who had lived as the head of a ducal house for years, it left little impression.

What mattered more to him than the room he would stay in for the next month… was the fact that Arhan’s bedroom lay just a few floors above.

“While His Grace is in residence, you’ll take your meals together. Guiding sessions will take place once daily, barring special circumstances.”

These were all details he had already been informed of when signing the contract.

Daily guiding. Shared mealtimes.

Back then, that alone had made his heart flutter.

Outside of formal events or banquets, he and Arhan never dined together.

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