Come to think of it, I wasn’t even getting paid an hourly wage for this.
Did I just voluntarily suffer a grueling shift just to survive?
A wave of mild injustice washed over me.
“No, it was a task I had to do regardless.”
“Young Master Luces… you are quite different from the rumors. I heard today was your very first time attending a council meeting.”
“Is that so? Well, I suppose I don’t possess a very social personality.”
People kept bringing up these ‘rumors,’ and it was starting to get on my nerves.
This guy Ian Luces—he wasn’t some notorious, unhinged profligate, was he?
The downside of being a minor, one-line extra was the severe lack of personal background information.
“Haha, you seem entirely social to me. None of the other young masters would ever dare to strike up a conversation with His Majesty first.”
“I see.”
“Yes, after all… his ascension to the throne wasn’t exactly ordinary. It hasn’t even been a full year since his coronation, so the Imperial Palace is perpetually busy. We are quite short on talented individuals volunteering to be officials, too.”
Good grief.
I knew I had arrived before Lucian’s entrance, but it looked like there were still a good five years left before the actual plot of the novel kicks off.
In the original story, the tyrant Emperor Leonel had already been ruling for well over five years.
“Does the Imperial Court offer good compensation and benefits for its officials?”
“Well, I hear the workload is immense, but they ensure everyone gets an appropriate amount of rest. Every year-end, they grant about a month of vacation to an island in the southern region of the Valquia Empire. Granted, it technically serves the purpose of inspecting the southern territories, but I heard it’s quite a wonderful perk.”
“Oh, that sounds excellent.”
“But Young Master, you could easily go to such places whenever you wish, couldn’t you?”
“I certainly hope so.”
A whole month of vacation… that sounds incredible.
If public servants back home heard about a ruler granting a one-month break, they’d probably weep tears of pure envy.
To think a tyrant in a fantasy realm cares more about workers’ rights than modern-day institutions. What an absolute paradox.
“Ah, we have arrived. This carriage will take you directly back to the Luces Ducal estate.”
“Thank you very much.”
“Oh, and… my name is Sion! I will be sure to greet you the next time we meet at the palace.”
“Ah, yes. Master Sion, thank you for guiding me today.”
Outside the carriage window, Sion waved with a faint blush coloring his cheeks.
His fluffy hair and bright eyes made him look quite endearing, like a younger brother I wouldn’t mind getting along with.
Growing up without any siblings always left me with a soft spot for younger folks, making me want to look out for them.
Shortly after the carriage set off, I arrived at the ducal estate while experiencing the joy of carriage motion sickness for the very first time in my life.
‘Ugh, I feel like throwing up.’
Thank goodness I wasn’t born in the actual 18th century.
A carriage without rubber tires in an alternate world offered a truly horrific riding experience—you could practically feel every single pebble the wheels rolled over.
Regardless, the reality that I was now a young master of a ducal family was finally beginning to sink in.
The sprawling mansion that unfolded before my eyes as I stepped out of the carriage boasted a square footage that a guy living in a 180-square-foot studio apartment could never even dream of.
To think this massive estate was the home I was returning to.
‘What a strange sensation.’
The majestic, ancient mansion sitting squarely on a plot of land the size of a football field was enough to make me lose all sense of reality.
I almost suspected it was a dream, but the crisp sensation of the wind blowing through my long bangs brought me firmly back to the present.
Yeah, maybe God was rewarding me for surviving such a brutal, relentless life in my past existence.
I took a confident step toward the main gates of the grand estate.
The House of Luces was one of the three founding pillar families of the Valquia Empire.
Fitting its immense prestige, a massive serpent crest—the symbol of the ducal house—was proudly engraved onto the main gates.
‘How intimidating.’
The main entrance was flanked by two guards standing at attention.
They maintained a rigid military discipline, looking entirely prepared to repel any uninvited guests.
“Open the gates.”
Usually, when a noble residing in a grand mansion arrives, the guards open the door right away.
This was the correct way to handle it, right?
However, the two soldiers standing before me didn’t budge an inch. Did they not hear me?
“I am heading inside, so open the gates.”
“Ah, well look who it is. If it isn’t the second young master.”
“Oh my, it’s dark out, so we failed to recognize you. Please, go right on in.”
The way they snickered among themselves while opening the gates felt incredibly displeasing for some reason.
Aren’t gatekeepers usually the lowest-ranking soldiers?
There shouldn’t be any benefit to offending a noble.
That lingering question, however, was bound to be answered very shortly.
The House of Luces was, without a doubt, an absolutely dysfunctional family.
The sneering attitude of the gatekeepers wasn’t born from simple carelessness; it was an exact reflection of my abysmal standing within this household.
As I walked through the grand foyer, the oppressive silence of the mansion felt less like a peaceful sanctuary and more like an empty, echoing tomb.
Before I could even locate my quarters to collapse from the exhausting day, a harsh, familiar voice shattered the quiet.
“So, the useless spare finally crawled back home after causing a scene at the palace.”
I turned to see the ‘Young Duke’—my supposed older brother—leaning against a marble pillar, his eyes practically bugging out with lingering fury.
He marched over and jabbed a finger directly into my chest, the amiable coward from the palace completely replaced by a domestic tyrant.
“What the hell were you thinking out there, Ian? Streamlining the Imperial budget? Volunteering to fix our house’s ‘mistake’? You basically admitted to the Emperor that we committed financial fraud! Father is going to strip you alive when he hears about this!”
With the muscle memory of a corporate worker dealing with a raging toxic manager, my face instinctively locked into a perfect, unbothered poker face.
I casually looked down at his finger, then met his maddened glare with a perfectly level gaze.
“Brother, if I hadn’t stepped in, the Emperor was about to draw his sword. If his blade left the scabbard, it wouldn’t have just been your head rolling on that white marble—it would have been the end of our entire clan. I didn’t expose a mistake; I bought us time to fix your catastrophic blunder.”
The Young Duke choked on his words, his face flushing a deep crimson as he struggled to find a comeback.
He clearly wasn’t used to the historically timid Ian talking back with the cold, structured logic of a seasoned administrative official.
“You… you crazy bastard…” he stammered, stepping back.
“Just wait until Father calls for you tomorrow morning!”
“I look forward to it,” I replied smoothly, bowing with flawless, empty etiquette before turning on my heel to find my room.
If this family was a nest of vipers, then I just needed to treat them like a highly dysfunctional corporate board of directors.
I had successfully managed egos, covered up massive organizational disasters, and balanced budgets under toxic leadership for three years at the Bureau.
Surviving a corrupt ducal household and an angsty novel’s tyrant Emperor was going to be an extreme test of my administrative skills, but I had a tropical retirement in Hawaii to catch.
I wasn’t going to let a single one of these fictional lunatics take my neck before then.
How do you think Ian’s father, the Duke, will react to my sudden change in demeanor during our confrontation tomorrow morning?
