* * *
“She had the emperor’s protection. That’s the only reason a baron’s house would even consider forming ties with her. You didn’t seriously think that greedy old man married beneath his station for love, did you?”
Ranshel had never thought about love or any of this that deeply.
As he stared blankly at Zavad, the latter let out a quiet chuckle and generously continued.
“It was the same with Baron Veliche. All he did was give a title to a woman favored by the emperor. Even if she was his mistress, a commoner couldn’t just come and go from the palace, so they gave her a brass crown, at least.”
So the Duke of Pomel never loved Charlotte but strategically married her for prestige?
And she stayed the emperor’s mistress even after becoming the duchess?
Ranshel worked to piece together the sudden lore dump.
“But then… why does the Duke hate you? He married her knowing she’d bear someone else’s child. They were basically just married in name.”
“Who knows? Think about it.”
Ranshel flinched at Zavad’s expression.
His eyes, unlike before, now stared coldly into the distance.
“Maybe love is stupid. Or maybe people are. I think it’s both. Why else would a man fall for the woman he used as a political tool? I’d never do something that dumb. Love is nonsense. A pathetic delusion.”
“……”
“And whatever twisted revenge fantasy he had, he ended up taking as his second wife the very woman who used to serve my mother. The man’s completely lost it.”
“Wait, second wife… you mean the current lady?”
“Yeah. The woman sitting pretty in this castle, claiming to be the duchess. The duke’s third wife.”
What a mess. Ranshel rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.
‘Now that I think about it, Zavad’s the second son, so there must’ve been a first wife if there’s a firstborn son.’
Then came the second wife, Charlotte, and the third—the evil stepmother Laruca.
No kids yet…
No, not ‘yet.’
There never were.
Even by the time Zavad slit his throat, Laruca had never borne a third son.
The duke wasn’t exactly young, so the absence of an heir hadn’t struck Ranshel as strange before…
‘Wait, does the duke… still love Charlotte?’
He went and married the noble lady who used to be Charlotte’s subordinate just to get back at her?
Meanwhile, he locked up her bastard son at the top of the tower?
Ranshel was genuinely impressed by the man’s petty and pathetic spite.
To live so shamelessly with such twisted motivations—wasn’t that remarkable in its own way?
“…You don’t seem to like the current lady much.”
“Of course not. The moment she moved into the castle, she started erasing all traces of my mother. Petro told me she even tore up the flower garden my mother loved.”
Come to think of it, Petro hadn’t seemed too fond of Laruca either.
Something about how the lady of the house had no interest in the estate.
They must’ve shared a bond through their mutual reverence for Charlotte.
Honestly, Ranshel hadn’t even met the woman yet, so he had no feelings either way.
Still, she was definitely someone to be cautious of.
‘She might steal my contribution points.’
Granted, with no affection from Zavad, she probably wouldn’t earn high numbers, but her presence alone was a threat.
People like her tried to drive sane folks mad—worse than outright killers.
There were two still-unrevealed titles on the contribution list.
One of them had to belong to Laruca.
While Ranshel was lost in thought, Zavad murmured softly under his breath.
“I was planning to stay in the castle since I don’t know when Mother will return… but I guess there’s no helping it.”
“……”
“Actually, this might be for the best. Better to do something useful than just wait around empty-handed.”
“…?”
Ranshel, who had been quietly listening, suddenly sensed something was off.
“Um… Young Master?”
“Hm? What is it?”
“…Your mother… Is she alive?”
“Yeah.”
Zavad answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Ranshel was thrown into confusion.
‘Wait, Charlotte’s alive?’
According to the game story he knew, Zavad’s revenge against the Pomel family was deeply rooted in the loss of his mother.
Startled, Ranshel leaned in close to Zavad and asked urgently,
“Why?!”
“…What?”
“Why is she… why is she still alive? Didn’t she die?!”
“Why don’t you just curse her already?”
Zavad frowned at how close Ranshel had gotten—close enough for their breaths to mingle.
But he didn’t push him away.
For some reason, he found the expression on Ranshel’s wide-eyed, flustered face amusing.
Just by looking at his ever-changing expressions, Ranshel seemed obedient, but his tongue was a different story—always full of lies.
Up close, Zavad noticed how Ranshel’s green eyes sparkled beneath his long lashes, clear like little beads.
‘…He looks like a dog.’
If he had the space to raise a pet, he probably would’ve picked a dog that looked just like this.
That fluffy red hair would be a mess from running through mud all day.
An unruly mutt with not a shred of dignity, but one that would’ve made him laugh.
Even if he tried to train it, it would just play dumb and get out of it—but when those bright eyes looked up at him, he wouldn’t be able to stay mad.
He’d probably give in and hand over a treat.
‘But he belongs to someone else now…’
Even though Ranshel was technically his assigned servant, it was just a title.
Ranshel already had a master.
Then why was he going so far to help him?
‘…Don’t tell me he’s planning to take money from me and give it to his real master?’
Zavad felt something hot rise in his chest.
He didn’t know what it was, but it sparked a wave of irritation, and his hand tensed on instinct.
[Event Contribution Rate has changed.]
[Event Contribution Rate]
- (The Most Vicious One): 5% → 8%
‘…Why?’
Why did my contribution rate suddenly go up?
By three percent, no less?
‘I could at least guess before, but this time, I have no clue. It’s a complete mystery.’
Ranshel was confused, but decided to hold off on making any judgments for now.
There was something more urgent.
“So you’re saying… my mother is actually alive?”
“Yes. At the castle, she’s considered dead, but…”
“Why? Why is that?”
Ranshel began to doubt whether this was really the same game he knew.
Wasn’t his mother’s death the reason behind all his rage and hatred?
If the story branched off here, how would the revenge arc even kick in?
While Ranshel was lost in confusion, Zavad continued nonchalantly.
“Might as well tell you now. Your mother didn’t die—she only pretended to. She abandoned the castle and ran away for love.”
“W-what… what did you just say?”
“She’s probably crossed the continent by now. Once things settle down, we might get a letter from the west.”
Zavad was as calm as ever, but Ranshel felt like he was going to lose it.
All this time, he had been waiting for his mother to return—and now this?
If there had been even a chance she’d come back, would the Pomel family have fallen to ruin under Zavad?
Would anyone have dared to burn everything to the ground and bathe the place in blood not knowing when she might show up?
‘Then what happens to my quest?’
* * *
The dlc must be something else