* * *
The Duke of Pantheon’s office was enveloped in an awkward silence.
The Duke’s face was tense, a rare sight.
The source of his tension sat across from him at the table—his son, Raizen Pantheon.
“You said you had something to ask of me.”
Though there was a purpose to the visit, the Duke was nonetheless pleased that his son had come to see him first.
Of course, outwardly, he gave no indication.
Pretending to sip his tea, the Duke cast subtle glances at his son’s expression.
Raizen, his gaze lowered, silently drank his tea before gently setting the cup down.
And then—
“Was that a smile?”
A soft chuckle escaped Raizen’s lips.
The Duke’s eyes widened slightly.
How long had it been since he last saw his son laugh?
For so long, his son had only ever worn faint, ambiguous smiles.
Yet now, he had actually laughed.
Wary of ruining the moment, the Duke spoke in the calmest tone he could muster, trying to sound casual.
“Have you found something amusing lately?”
Perhaps his voice was too subdued—it sounded flat, even to him.
Embarrassed, the Duke cleared his throat.
“This isn’t easy.”
Some had said it before: ‘Your son’s the spitting image of you, Your Grace. What’s so difficult about it?’
Especially those knights of the Phoenix Order who had served under him in war.
Having faced death together countless times, they addressed him more freely than others.
To the Duke, their words often felt like teasing.
Regardless of what anyone said, from the moment he held his newborn son in his arms, the Duke had always found him difficult.
His wife had tried to reassure him, telling him not to be so nervous, but it wasn’t easy.
As his wife had seen right through him, the Duke was afraid.
Afraid of passing on the wounds he had received from his own parents.
Could someone who had never known what it meant to be a good parent ever become one?
The previous Duke and Duchess of Pantheon had lived only as titles—Duke and Duchess—not as people, let alone parents.
As the only son and heir of a noble lineage known for its scarcity of children, the Duke had been forced to live as the future Duke from a young age.
He had never experienced the warmth people spoke of as parental love.
To him, his parents had been the ones who judged and punished him.
He feared their punishment.
If his academic or swordsmanship skills fell short, the former Duchess would lock him in a punishment room.
A room without windows, without light.
Curled up in the cramped darkness, all he could do was wait for forgiveness.
So, when it came to Raizen, the Duke chose to speak only the necessary words and take only the necessary actions.
Anything more might lead to mistakes.
Yet it seemed he had made another mistake this time.
As soon as he finished speaking, the smile vanished from Raizen’s face.
The Duke felt an urge to bite his tongue in frustration.
“…I didn’t mean to admonish you. I simply found it pleasant, that’s all.”
“Pleasant?”
Raizen mulled over his father’s words.
Normally, he would have interpreted them as, ‘You must be enjoying yourself with Sean. That’s good to see.’
And with that, he would have grown cold, rationalizing: ‘He adopted that boy to protect him, so it must weigh on him. Especially since I’m no longer the heir, he must worry that I’ll harm him.’
‘Or perhaps he fears my curse might consume him.’
But strangely, this time, those thoughts didn’t seem genuine.
Instead, his father, whom he had always thought of as stoic, now appeared slightly different.
‘He seems flustered… almost apologetic.’
Apologetic?
His father?
‘Who is my father, really?’
The strongest and wisest Pantheon in history.
That man’s son, cursed—was he ashamed of him?
‘Is that really true?’
He had believed so.
No, he wanted to believe so.
But the father he remembered was…
‘A man who, though reserved, cherished and trusted him.’
When had he forgotten that?
Raizen clenched his teeth.
‘Had I been so consumed by the curse?’
He had thought he was resisting the whispers of it, but somewhere along the way, he had unconsciously accepted its murmurs as truth.
There were reasons, of course.
The way his father suppressed all news when servants attending to him went missing due to his curse.
The refusal to let him visit the temple when he asked.
Yet even that seemed excessive now.
His old self might have felt hurt by those actions, but he wouldn’t have leapt to the conclusion that his parents were ashamed of or hiding him.
“Whatever the old me was like.”
Raizen decided to be a little more honest with himself.
“It’s because I have a younger sibling now. I think that’s why I’m happy.”
“…Is that so.”
Once he said it, an inexplicable warmth filled him.
Yes, he was happy.
Watching Sean, who acted as if he liked Raizen but always tried to escape at critical moments, was undeniably amusing.
‘He’s definitely hiding something.’
At first, it had annoyed him.
Then, it piqued his curiosity.
Even accounting for amnesia or mental regression from trauma, his overly childish behavior was suspicious.
If Sean had been worthless, Raizen might have fabricated a reason to drive him out of the Pantheon household.
If that wasn’t an option, he would have at least made sure Sean couldn’t live comfortably there.
But now, whatever Sean was hiding no longer mattered.
Raizen needed him—or rather, his divine power.
He had considered the possibility that Sean might be a fraud.
But his parents were meticulous, almost terrifyingly so.
They had even verified Sean’s magic using an artifact they’d personally received from the late Marquis Kreveta and his wife.
‘Perhaps it’s related to the Krevetas’ deaths.’
Had Sean truly lost his memories?
Raizen suspected otherwise.
Those fleeting moments when Sean’s expression was incongruous with his usual demeanor—they weren’t the face of someone who had forgotten everything.
At those times, Sean seemed like someone who had lost something precious, someone who hid unfathomable sorrow deep within.
Of course, those moments were brief.
‘Not to mention when he slapped me out of nowhere.’
In general, Raizen’s feelings toward Sean could be summed up as ‘infuriatingly unpredictable.’
He always acted in ways Raizen didn’t anticipate.
“Ah, never mind! It’s just….”
Even seeing Sean’s awkwardly embarrassed face, unable to feign amusement, was strangely enjoyable.
Raizen smiled faintly again.
“Yes, truly.”
At last, the boy brought up the reason for his visit to the Duke’s office.
“Which brings me to this—I was wondering if we could send my former tutor to Sean.”
“Arthur Sothes? But Arthur is…”
“That child will need to return to the Kreveta household to take over the family when he comes of age. And I’ve learned all I need to.”
Arthur Sothes.
The illegitimate second son of a minor baron.
He was forcibly taken from his birth mother, ostensibly to handle troublesome tasks on behalf of the family’s heir.
However, their plans never came to fruition.
Arthur Sothes left the family of his own accord.
Under the patronage of Duke Pantheon, he graduated as the top student of Noir Academy, renowned as the continent’s most prestigious institution.
He solved parts of an ancient ruin’s mystery—a riddle unsolved for centuries—and was honored with a noble title by the Emperor.
It was then he acquired the surname “Sothes” and became a quasi-noble.
A prodigy among prodigies.
Until he was assigned to a research project at Noir Academy by imperial decree, he had been the sole tutor of Raizen.
In hindsight, it was rather ironic that among the new tutors hired after Arthur’s departure, there happened to be a spy from an external faction.
Though the culprit vanished without a trace before they could uncover the mastermind, it was almost certainly an operative of the Ruaavis Duchy.
In any case, Raizen decided to temporarily leave Arthur Sothes in charge of Sean.
Arthur’s loyalty to the Pantheon Duchy was unwavering, so he would undoubtedly monitor Sean’s condition meticulously.
Perhaps he might even uncover Sean’s hidden secret.
Above all, Raizen simply didn’t want Arthur Sothes near him for the time being.
Despite being an excellent tutor, Raizen couldn’t shake the suspicion that Arthur had been placed by his parents to act as a spy.
Though Raizen had dismissed most of the Crows his parents sent, he was well aware that a select few continued to monitor him from a distance.
His parents likely knew of his condition through them, yet they remained silent.
Arthur Sothes might know the reason for that silence.
During his time at Noir Academy, Arthur was so brilliant that he scored perfect marks in all subjects, reportedly even surpassing the professors in theology and history.
He would quickly grasp the nature of Sean’s power, too.
‘I’d kind of like to see the troubled look on his face.’
As Raizen thought about Sean attending Arthur Sothes’ lessons, a small smile crept across his face.
Just then, a knock at the door interrupted his musings.
When Duke Pantheon gave permission to enter, a maid under Mila’s command stepped in to report.
“What is it?”
“Excuse me, Your Grace, but Young Master Shane wishes to request your permission to miss tonight’s dinner.”
In the duchy, breakfast and dinner were always taken together—a strict family rule.
“And why is that?”
A proud smile spread across the maid’s face.
“Well…he is currently immersed in study in the library. He’s so engrossed that he’s reluctant to leave, and he humbly asks for permission to skip dinner just this once.”
“Studying?”
The question came from Raizen, who looked incredulous.
“That child…studying?”
Reciting the genealogies of noble families was tedious enough, but Sean had always made it abundantly clear that he loathed studying.
* * *
