I had experienced a prophetic dream. I was a madman for ignoring it when the dream had warned me so kindly.
I looked out the window.
The weather was far too nice for me to die.
Returning him… was probably out of the question. For now, I expressed my gratitude to the Emperor’s servant.
“I merely did what was natural as a noble of the empire, so I am overwhelmed to receive such a gift. I accept this present with gratitude. I, Count Pation, will treat His Majesty’s gift with great care.”
It was a vow never to treat him recklessly like in the novel and get utterly screwed, but the servant laughed and waved his hand.
“Not at all. Please use him to your heart’s content. Doesn’t he look sturdy? No matter how much you use him as you please, Count, he won’t break.”
“As much as… I please.”
“Yes. As much as you please, My Lord. It might even be entertaining to throw the slave into a cage with a bear and see who wins.”
I shuddered. If I did something like that, I would end up locked in a bear cage exactly like him.
This was the guy who would be reinstated as a duke a year from now and exact the exact same revenge on me for everything I did to him.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Well, that does sound entertaining. However, I prefer to enjoy things slowly and for a long time.”
It was a declaration that I would not do anything violent, but the servant, completely lacking tact, brought up another topic.
“Ah, so you are of that persuasion. Taming a wild wolf into a bedroom lapdog is quite entertaining as well.”
Then I would end up crawling around the bedroom on all fours and acting cute exactly like him.
“Haha… Is that so.”
I laughed awkwardly and played along loosely.
After offering another long, soulless expression of gratitude, I handed the servant some gold coins as a tip for his trouble, and he departed with a bright smile.
Once they left, only the man still kneeling on the floor, myself, and a few servants remained in the drawing-room.
I observed Lucas, the protagonist of the novel.
The man who had been glaring at me with a murderous gaze was now staring only at the floor as if he had resigned himself to his fate.
Because his figure appeared somewhat sorrowful, my gaze kept lingering on him.
Should I say a protagonist is truly a protagonist? He looked a bit pitiful, making me feel like I wanted to take care of him.
…No. Let’s not let my guard down.
If I show sympathy, he might use it to kill me and escape.
Didn’t he try to escape every chance he got in the novel?
Of course, he failed every time he tried and suffered all sorts of terrible things.
It was the first time I realized I was a person capable of doing such horrific things.
“My Lord, what should we do with him?”
A servant asked me since I remained silent.
First of all… his state looked as though he had just been dragged out of the slums, so he needed to be washed.
Washing him should be fine.
Oh, and feed him too. If I starve him, I’ll end up starving later.
He was wearing something akin to rags, leaving his body fully exposed, but fortunately, he didn’t appear to have any visible injuries.
“Wash him and feed him, then move him to my room.”
First, I needed to have a serious, private conversation with him in my room.
The servant nodded.
“Understood.”
“He is His Majesty’s gift, so make sure to handle him with care.”
“Understood.”
I said it just in case a servant dragged the protagonist along like a dog and ended up suffering a disaster later.
Fortunately, the servant grabbed his arm, helped him up, and let him walk on his own two feet. I felt relieved to see him treated at least like a human being.
With every step he took, the chains attached to his handcuffs and shackles clanked against each other. The sound of metal clashing sounded rather sorrowful.
It was a relief that his false charges would be cleared later, but… how did he end up framed for treason in the first place? How pitiful.
Before he stepped outside, he turned his head, and our eyes met. His red eyes stared at me with an unreadable gaze before he dropped his eyes first.
It was a brief moment, but it was chilling enough to give me goosebumps.
Now, let’s return to the dream.
In the novel from my dream, after enduring all kinds of hardships as a slave, he clears his name of treason and becomes a duke again.
As soon as he becomes a duke, he drags me in first and subjects me to the exact same treatment he suffered.
Then, here is a question: what should I do to survive?
The answer is to treat him well. Of course, that is only if this really is the novel from my dream.
‘But I still have to pretend to treat him like a slave while keeping an eye on His Majesty’s reactions.’
If His Majesty found out that I was treating a slave who committed treason in another country with high regard, his blood pressure would skyrocket.
Even I would suspect that the person was plotting treason themselves and trying to ask for pointers.
At the very least, I would suspect they were planning something to secure a position in the neighboring country.
Therefore, my goal was not to wish for a reward by being good to him, but simply to keep a proper boundary so I would not face retaliation.
In the novel, I think it took about a year for him to clear his name.
So, I just need to be careful for one year.
Then, to treat him like he is not a slave while he is technically a slave for a year…
Is that really the only option?
A bedroom slave.
If he is a bedroom slave, no one will say anything even if he eats, plays, and sleeps comfortably during the day.
Because his job is to serve at night.
He does not have to do forced labor while sweating profusely in the hot daylight.
His honor might drop a bit, but he would also think a bedroom slave is much better than hard labor like logging or mining.
Besides, no one knows what happens in the bedroom in the middle of the night.
We can just pretend.
‘Right. Let’s go with the bedroom slave setup.’
Some people might be shocked that I called someone to my bedroom, but it cannot be helped.
I wanted to save my first experience carefully and share it with someone I love, but… it cannot be helped.
I am not actually going to do it, but if a situation arises where I have to, I have no choice.
‘I have no choice if I want to live.’
Anyway, I have to survive. I need to make this fief a good place to live, raise my nephew well, and pass down the title of count to him. Because that is my duty.
The servant informed me that preparations were finished. I stopped what I was doing and went to the bedroom.
The man was sitting on his knees on the bed, completely naked and beautifully groomed.
“…….”
“…….”
Where did this go wrong?
