* * *
“Does it hurt when I do this?”
As the physician gently pressed Eren’s ankle, a faint groan slipped through his clenched teeth.
At the sound, the physician quickly glanced at Ashard.
It was just a routine examination, yet the intense stare Ashard gave every time Eren winced made it difficult to continue.
“Of course it hurts if you press that hard. He’s precious—treat him gently.”
“…Yes, of course.”
The physician continued the check-up.
Even the slightest touch caused pain, and sweat began to bead on Eren’s forehead.
Seeing this, Ashard’s voice rang out again.
“Is it really necessary to press like that? Can’t you tell just by looking?”
As if anyone could diagnose with just a glance.
Letting out a sigh at Ashard’s unreasonable complaint, Eren quickly intervened.
“Lord Ashard. Please, step outside for a moment.”
“….”
He looked displeased.
But since it was Eren’s request, Ashard obediently left the room.
Once Eren confirmed he was gone, he turned to the physician.
“How long until I’m fully healed…?”
“It looks like the bone is completely fractured. Just who—”
“I fell.”
“…This level of break doesn’t happen just from a fall.”
Even a tumble down stairs wouldn’t normally cause this much damage.
Especially not to the ankle.
Eren might’ve fooled Ashard, but not a physician.
With a sheepish smile, Eren asked again.
“How long until I’m better?”
“Usually about three months… but that’s for people from the Trovien Empire. You may take longer.”
Unlike the healthy bodies the physician typically treated in House Fridit, Eren’s was remarkably frail.
That made it difficult to estimate recovery time.
“For now, you must avoid any strenuous movement. Definitely no running—and ideally, no walking either.”
Not even walking?
Eren wasn’t sure he could stay still for that long.
But hearing that it would help him heal faster, he nodded silently.
It was all that bastard Hellid’s fault.
Who breaks someone’s ankle so brutally?
As Eren silently cursed Hellid, Ashard stopped the physician at the door.
“How is he?”
“…He didn’t say it outright, but I believe it was done intentionally. A fall wouldn’t break the bone like that.”
As expected. Ashard clenched his jaw.
“…I’ll be stepping out for a bit. Look after Eren while I’m gone.”
Ashard’s twisted expression didn’t ease as he made his way to the palace.
He hadn’t simply let Eren go alone—he had known full well that he was in the palace, and yet had been complacent.
“Who was it?”
A blunt question, stripped of all pretense.
“…Baron Yulta.”
Ashard’s face crumpled instantly.
Rage surged—he wanted nothing more than to rip Hellid apart.
The moment his body turned, Melody grabbed his arm.
“Uncle, wait.”
Hellid was now a baron of the Trovien Empire.
Even if Ashard was a duke, he couldn’t attack a fellow noble out of personal anger.
That was likely why Melody stopped him.
Rational as always, she didn’t let emotions cloud her judgment.
“Don’t stop me. I’ll take responsibility for the consequences.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
Ashard’s eyes changed, caught off guard by the unexpected answer.
Melody handed him a stack of papers.
“Baron Yulta’s disciplinary action and his medical leave forms. I’ve already processed them.”
“…What?”
“When the Count first encountered Viscount Yulta, he wasn’t a noble of the Empire—he was the commander of my knight order. Therefore, the authority to discipline him lies with me.”
“What are you trying to say, Melody?”
“What I’m saying is, from this moment on, everything you do to him is sanctioned disciplinary action under my approval.”
A formal disciplinary order from the commander of the Black Knights—bearing the unmistakable seal of the Imperial Princess.
In other words, whatever he did to Helid from here on out would be legally untouchable.
“Are you serious?”
There wasn’t a trace of a smile in Melody’s eyes as she met Ashard’s gaze.
“The viscount should be in the commander’s office.”
It wasn’t a direct answer to his question, but it was more than enough.
She was just as furious about Helid’s actions as Ashard was.
Everything she gave him was expressed in her own, unmistakably “Melody” way.
“I’ve also filed your medical leave. So please, do take full advantage of it, Uncle.”
Telling him, in the most dignified way possible, to beat the man half to death and not worry about showing up tomorrow.
Ashard’s lips twitched upward at his niece’s elegant phrasing.
“Even without all that, I was planning to.”
Ashard headed straight to Helid’s office.
On the way there, he noticed—eerily—no knights, no servants.
Not a soul in sight.
‘Melody’s doing?’
He hadn’t expected her to handle things to this extent.
Just as he confirmed the coast was clear and was about to enter, someone suddenly grabbed his arm.
“…Elyrion.”
“This will help.”
Without warning, Elyrion shoved something into his hands.
Caught off guard, Ashard accepted it instinctively—then glanced down and narrowed his eyes at the object.
A soundproofing artifact.
Melody had a reason, being tied to Eren—but Elyrion?
There was no reason for him to step in too.
“It was Melody’s request.”
Ever since learning that the one they rescued earlier was Eren Nefendis, Elyrion had been unsettled.
Although the misunderstanding hadn’t lasted long, Eren was still, to Elyrion, someone from a hostile nation.
Unlike the other royals who, thanks to Ashard, had shown him kindness from the start—Elyrion’s response was, ironically, the most normal one.
Eren’s small, fragile frame—barely that of an adult—and his powerless body weren’t threatening in the least.
Plus, given the strategies he taught Melody, there really was no need to remain wary.
Still, resentment boiled up involuntarily.
And yet, whenever he thought of Eren’s physical condition, his feelings became a tangled mess.
What kind of bastards had he been surrounded by for his body to be left in such a depleted state?
‘Damn it. I don’t know anymore. Everyone’s acting like this, so why should I care?’
“He should avoid magic and artifacts as much as possible for now. That kid—no, that Count—won’t be able to handle it. Someone deliberately erased all the mana from his body.”
Elyrion hated complex situations.
He decided, simply, that there must be a reason Ashard, Melody, and even the Empress trusted Eren.
Leaving behind those final words, he vanished.
“Every last one of these bastards—I want to kill them all.”
Ashard muttered once he confirmed Elyrion had disappeared.
To think someone had intentionally drained another’s mana.
Until now, there had only been one person capable of such a thing.
His grip tightened.
Veins bulged across the back of his hand. But for now, Helid came first.
He placed the soundproofing artifact Elyrion had given him on the door and stepped inside.
Without even knocking, he flung the door open.
Helid, lounging in his chair with feet propped on the desk, glanced up and smirked when he saw who it was.
“Well, look who it is. The thief who stole my precious Eren.”
The mocking tone in Helid’s voice made Ashard’s mood grow darker.
On the nearby sofa sat the obscene artifact Helid had tried to use on Eren earlier—still left there, untouched.
Seeing Ashard’s eyes fix on it, Helid chuckled.
“Oh, that? Take one if you want. Just be sure to stretch that tight little hole properly first. I’d rather not end up with a broken dick.”
He waved his hand dismissively, as if telling Ashard to take it and get lost.
Ashard’s gaze froze on that hand—the same one that had fractured Eren’s ankle.
He wanted nothing more than to snap that wrist in half.
“Then again, if it’s Eren, even a broken dick might be worth it.”
…Fucking disgusting.
* * *
