* * *
A long time had passed.
Both the advocates and opponents of the land tax increase wore tired expressions.
Their heads felt ready to explode from the endless debate.
‘I’m going to die like this.’
The one silently suffering was Jacob, the eldest son of the Fetchwig family.
After hours of relentless arguments, he felt like he was going to vomit.
But more than anything, what he found hardest to bear was his own helplessness.
‘I can’t win. Not a chance.’
The moment he tried to say something, a rebuttal came flying at him.
Sharp, precise points that left him utterly speechless.
Every time it happened, he found himself glancing toward his father without realizing it.
“Tsk.”
His father openly clicked his tongue, his expression full of disapproval.
In those cold, lifeless eyes was nothing but disappointment.
Then Jacob would glance toward his younger brother.
“Ha ha.”
His brother grinned openly, a smirk so smug Jacob wanted to kill him on the spot.
That bastard whose only skill was peddling medicine!
‘This is bad—they’re winning. Just look at His Majesty’s face. Anyone can tell he’s siding with the opposition.’
His mind churned.
The situation was clearly unfavorable for the Fetchwig family.
Even his once-proud father’s face was now dark and grim.
At this rate, they would suffer a complete defeat—then become the butt of every insult imaginable.
“The parasites who tried to bleed the commoners dry and failed.”
“This is maddening,” his father muttered lowly beside him.
“All the prestige I built up… why do you think I went as far as to found a seminary? And yet they dare—”
Jacob heard every word of his father’s muttering.
He felt an overwhelming pressure to do something—anything.
Holding his breath, he studied his father’s face in detail.
Gordon rubbed his face roughly with both hands.
Across from them, the opposing nobles chuckled.
“Ha! Even the mighty Duke can’t get out of this one.”
What?
Jacob snapped his head toward them and glared.
His sharp gaze made no one flinch—in fact, some even smiled back.
“Our representative speaks so well, you can’t help but nod along, don’t you think?”
“The representative” referred to Chester, the second son of the Carlisle family.
Somehow, Chester had become the leader of the opposition.
Despite his youth, he had earned the King’s trust, enjoyed a wide reputation, and possessed a silver tongue.
‘Not even the firstborn… How dare these nobodies not know their place.’
Do something—anything…
The pressure was suffocating.
Jacob bit his lip hard, then stepped out of the room.
He felt like he would suffocate unless he got some fresh air.
So Jacob didn’t see it—how his father, who had been ruffling his hair in apparent frustration, was actually curling his lips into a faint, meaningful smile.
“Haa…”
Outside in the garden, Jacob exhaled deeply.
As he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, someone spoke to him.
“Lord Jacob Fetchwig, isn’t it? What are you doing out here?”
Startled, he turned around.
Not far away stood the Carlisle brothers.
In the sunlight, they radiated a bright, intense energy unlike anyone else.
“My, you don’t look well. Should we call for a physician?”
Chester’s voice was gentle, almost tender.
The moment Jacob heard it, his stomach churned like he was about to throw up.
‘’That insufferable bastard!’
“No need for a doctor. All I need is for you people to disappear from my sight.”
“‘You people’ meaning us?”
Chester blinked a few times, then put on an exaggeratedly hurt expression.
“My word, how cruel. You’ve wounded poor Chester Carlisle’s heart.”
Jacob almost swore aloud.
He averted his gaze, swallowing down his disgust.
Beside Chester stood Isaac, silently observing.
Even with his younger brother flaunting himself so flamboyantly, Isaac seemed entirely unbothered.
‘You don’t even mind when your own brother steals your spotlight, Isaac Carlisle? Oh, I get it—you’re just that confident in yourself, aren’t you?’
Fury boiled inside him, but there was nothing he could do.
The only option now was to pretend he hadn’t heard a thing and walk away.
“Why not ask your father to let you rest? Say you’re feeling too unwell to stay.”
Chester let the next words drop slowly.
“Honestly, what’s the point of you being in there? You look like you can’t do a thing.”
Jacob’s brow furrowed.
“What did you just say?”
“I said I pity you, my lord.”
Chester’s eyes curved into a smile.
“Lacking ability is a miserable thing. Even more so when you’re born into a fine family. The better the family, the higher the expectations. Such a shame.”
‘That son of a—!’
Feigning friendliness while twisting the knife—Jacob clenched his fists so tightly his whole body trembled with rage.
“Enough,” Isaac murmured.
Chester shrugged and started walking. Isaac matched his stride.
“Why provoke him? He’s not worth it.”
“I needed a target to vent on. Gordon—damn old man—he’s clearly lost, and yet he keeps arguing. It’s a waste of everyone’s time, and it’s irritating.”
Chester shook his head.
“Haah… I just want to hurry back and see Adam’s face.”
Isaac frowned at his brother’s flippant remark.
Just then, they sensed someone approaching from behind. Isaac didn’t even flinch.
Instead, he reached out and twisted the wrist of the man rushing toward them.
“Urk!”
A pitiful cry rang out.
Isaac slammed the man to the ground, his body lifting into the air for a moment before hitting hard.
The attacker lay sprawled, limbs stiff.
“Well, well, isn’t this the young lord? Please understand—my brother didn’t mean to startle you. But really, why rush at us like that…”
Chester’s voice was calm.
He had realized long ago that the man’s charge had been aimed at him.
Foolish and reckless—no wonder his father found him disappointing.
“You’re laughing at me, aren’t you?”
A low voice rang through the air.
The two brothers exchanged glances.
“Did he hit his head?”
“We should check.”
“Ha, hahahahahaha!”
Suddenly, the fallen man burst into loud laughter—sharp and grating, like a crow’s cry.
“Acting all high and mighty! And you don’t even know what trap you’ve fallen into!”
It was a shout steeped in self-satisfaction.
Chester tilted his head in confusion.
A trap?
What nonsense was this?
“…”
Isaac’s brows slowly drew together.
He had been ready to ignore the man’s ravings, but then a certain image flashed in his mind.
‘He smiled at us.’
Gordon Fetchwig’s face—smiling mysteriously despite the unfavorable situation.
A smile that clearly hid some scheme.
Isaac had already found it suspicious at the time.
Now, hearing this son’s words, he couldn’t dismiss it.
“You’re saying you’ve set a trap for us?”
Isaac added the next words very slowly.
“You don’t have the ability.”
“Ha!”
Jacob gave a short, sharp laugh.
His face was a tangled mess of rage and twisted amusement.
“You think you’re the only clever ones? That arrogance of yours is disgusting.”
“I’m sure it is.”
Chester nodded, a calm ease glinting in eyes that seemed to say, ‘I understand.’
“Of course you’d hate it, seeing your peers all doing well. While you—hidden in your father’s shadow—can’t do a damn thing.”
The inferiority complex he’d been suppressing since childhood was triggered.
The humiliation of being toyed with by Chester made Jacob so furious he couldn’t bear it.
His temper surged, and before he could stop himself, he said something he shouldn’t have.
“Like you can even keep your lover.”
A cold silence fell.
* * *
