Living as a Butler to the Northern Duke chapter 32

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On Monday morning, the news about the Izar Tailor’s shop appeared in the Southern daily.

“Ed, I heard Izar’s tailor shop caught fire over the weekend.”

“Really?”

Ed was having tea with Ronen in a corner of the garden.

“Yeah, the flames were apparently really intense, but fortunately, they were quickly brought under control, according to the report.”

“Yes, that’s very fortunate.”

Ed gave a small shrug. It was good that the head of the southern central guard had discovered something suspicious about Izar’s shop and reported it to his superiors.

Sometimes, things worked out.

“Ah, young master Ronen! Ed!”

They were enjoying the spring sun when a boy came running towards them from the far end of the garden.

It was Gio, the gardener.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, I’m just bored.”

Gio, who had run up to Ed, answered sullenly.

“The northerners have taken all my work, so now I have nothing to do.”

“What kind of work do you usually do?”

Gio, with a block game tucked under his arm, exclaimed, “Ah! Young master, they’re tearing down the east garden because there isn’t a suitable training ground in Herins Count’s estate.”

“A training ground?”

“Yes, since they haven’t been able to train, their bodies must have been itching to move. The northern knights have been digging, leveling, and hauling dirt since yesterday, and today they set up a massive tent at the entrance. With the strength and speed they’ve shown so far, they could probably build a mountain in no time.”

It seemed they were gearing up to show Sener and his subordinates just how tough the north could be.

Gio had been a great help to Ronen ever since he started staying in the annex, even before Ed was hired by the Herins Count.

When Ronen was imprisoned, Gio would sneak a ladder up to the window and place water and food on the ledge.

When Ronen was scolded and feeling down, Gio would approach him first, greet him, and strike up a conversation.

If caught by Naisen or the butler, Gio would get in trouble.

But even after being scolded, he continued to look after Ronen in his own way.

That was Gio’s courage and conviction.

It was also Sena’s, Erin’s, and others’ courage and conviction that had allowed Ronen to be where he was today.

‘So I have to work harder too, in my own way.’

Ed thought as he sipped his tea.

Ronen placed a cream-filled choux pastry on Ed’s plate and handed Gio a glass of refreshing lemonade.

The warm sunlight caressed both Ronen’s and Gio’s faces.

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“Welcome! Welcome to Rock Weapons Shop.”

As a carriage emblazoned with the symbol of a black dragon pulled up in front of the shop, a staff member came out to greet it.

“Is this the largest weapons shop in the south?”

“Yes, it is.”

When Irtel, who had just stepped out of the carriage, asked, Sener, following close behind, answered.

This was the largest and oldest weapons shop in the south.

It carried a wide variety of items, from training wooden swords to rare weapons adorned with magic stones.

As Irtel moved inside, guided by the staff, Sener hurried after him.

Thanks to the Grand Duke’s influence, they were able to access the normally closed fourth floor of the weapons shop.

The fourth floor of Rock Weapons Shop was not easily accessible, even for nobles of high status or renowned knights.

It was strictly guarded, unlike the floors below, where anyone could browse.

Sener looked at the weapons displayed on the walls as his subordinates whispered in excitement behind him.

“Captain Sener, so this is what the fourth floor of Rock Weapons Shop looks like?”

“I’ve heard it’s hard to even catch a glimpse of the fourth floor’s door from the lower levels, but now we can actually come in and see the weapons! This is amazing!”

Sener smiled to himself.

Ever since he had joined the Herins Count’s knights, when the estate was clearly in decline, he hadn’t expected much.

He had watched the knights dwindle in numbers, the lack of funds reducing the group by half, then by half again, and he had simply laughed it off.

By the time he was appointed captain of the small remaining force, there was little he could do.

When the Count adopted a young boy instead of investing in the knights, Sener had furrowed his brow in disbelief.

The Count would rather waste money on something like this than save the knights. It was ridiculous.

A boy with ash-gray hair and dark purple eyes.

When Sener first saw Ronen, he thought he looked like a pile of ashes.

But despite that first impression, Ronen’s fair skin and lively eyes, untouched by the world’s harshness, were clear and pure.

His innocent nature lacked any malice and was soft to the point of being pliable.

Why hadn’t Naisen, the Baron’s son, taken a liking to him?

He started being petty the moment Ronen entered the Count’s manor.

Complaining that the filth on his head couldn’t be cleaned off, he shouted to take him to the bathhouse and wash and disinfect him.

No, come to think of it, is there anything he likes? Other than money, it seems like everything in the world bothers him.

At first, Sener had been indifferent to Naisen’s treatment of Ronen. But eventually, he started to go along with it.

The Count and Countess of Herins had no interest in Ronen and were clueless about the ways of the world.

They foolishly started by dismissing the highest-paid knights from their order.

The knights who remained were barely hanging on, lacking both strength and skill, leaving the protection of the Herins family in a precarious state.

Now, on top of that, they were ordering Sener to take charge of Ronen’s swordsmanship training, a task he wasn’t pleased with at all.

That’s why he did it.

He poured water on Ronen’s blanket while the boy was fast asleep and scolded him harshly for the smallest mistakes.

He wanted the boy to be so frightened that he trembled in fear and cried.

He hoped that Ronen would flinch at the slightest thing and live in a way that didn’t fit the Count’s standards.

That way, the Count—who had adopted Ronen only to look good in the eyes of others—would certainly reconsider the adoption.

Of course, Count Herins wouldn’t let himself be left out of something other nobles were doing, so it was obvious he’d try to adopt again.

This time, though, Sener planned to suggest they bring in a girl.

A girl would require less effort, and there’d be no need to teach her swordsmanship.

It wasn’t that Sener hadn’t thought about leaving his position after working for the unremarkable Herins family for several years.

Born as the illegitimate child of a low-ranking noble, he had once believed that when he left home, he would be able to make a name for himself and dominate the world with his sword.

But the world was vast, and there were many capable knights.

His swordsmanship wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good enough to stand out, as he had come to realize.

‘So I was just planning to work at the Herins household for a while and earn some money.’

Even that old captain, who always boasted about guarding the Herins estate without fail, earned his salary just by strolling around the garden, basking in the sun.

‘…Who would have thought Ronen was the younger brother of Asnel Linden, the Grand Duke of the North?’

The story of the Grand Duke searching for his long-lost brother was well-known.

They had been separated during a crisis in the North when his brother was still a child.

But the details were muddled—everyone had a different version of the name, the true name, the appearance, and any distinguishing features, making it impossible to figure out the truth.

‘…The name Ronen wasn’t exactly rare, and his hair and eye color were completely different from the Grand Duke’s, so who would have thought he was such a big catch?’

Even the Count and Countess of Herins, who had paid no attention to Ronen for years and still hadn’t formally registered him in the family records, had never seen it coming.

When the connection between Ronen and the Grand Duke was revealed, Sener had held his breath, watching the Grand Duke closely.

Since all he had done was vent his anger on Ronen without showing him any kindness, he felt uneasy.

However, as the days passed, Sener noticed that the Grand Duke’s gaze never wavered from him, and he smirked.

‘So pure and clueless, wasn’t he?’

It seemed like Ronen had even forgotten that Sener had tormented him.

Well, all of it was for his own good, anyway.

Living so innocently would only leave him vulnerable to being stabbed in the back by others.

Even if word of it reached the Grand Duke, Sener had a way to explain it.

The Grand Duke, who had built his foundation in the harsh North and solidified his power, surely understood the meaning and value of the strength exchanged among knights.

If Sener could spin the story that what he did was meant to teach Ronen a lesson, there wouldn’t be much of an issue.

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