Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Even if that nephew is worthless and wicked.” “I understand.” Hestia nodded as if in complete agreement with Silas. In the end, Silas and Hestia shared the same thought. Was it because they were fond of Carlyle? …Hardly. There had been more than a few times they had wanted to beat him to within an inch of his life. Sometimes, just sometimes, they had even wanted to kill him in a fit of rage. The list of Carlyle’s misdeeds was so long it was exhausting even to think about, let alone recount. And yet, Hestia and Silas were risking it all to save this troublesome black sheep
They knew that once Carlyle disappeared, Grand Duke Guntram would be furious and would undoubtedly find the culprits and hold them severely accountable. It was a matter of love and hate, in a sense. They loathed and despised Carlyle, but at the same time, they couldn't bear to witness a family tragedy, the death of their own blood. “I feel truly sorry and guilty toward the families of the deceased villagers… but I just couldn’t stand by and do nothing.” “I feel the same way.” While Silas and Hestia found common ground
‘Huh?’ Carlyle realized that Silas and Hestia were not the only ones who had come to rescue him. ‘Selena and Frey are here too.’ Carlyle hadn't missed the fleeting glimpse of Selena’s and Frey’s faces appearing and disappearing in the window Hestia had come through. ‘Let’s go. The adults will handle it.’ ‘Okay, sis.’ Selena and Frey had also infiltrated the prison to break Carlyle out, but upon seeing they had been beaten to it, they quietly withdrew. ‘Is this turning into a family reunion?’ Carlyle thought it just might
At the same time, he felt a surge of anger toward the real Carlyle, the original owner of this body. ‘To have relatives like this and still live such a pathetic life… that idiot Carlyle.’ That wasn't his only thought. ‘Is this what a family is?’ The actions of his relatives felt utterly alien to Carlyle. To him, family was… “Your uncle is here now, too. Are you still not going to leave?” Hestia’s question broke Carlyle’s train of thought. “What are you talking about?” Silas’s face scrunched up, his expression screaming, *What kind of nonsense is that?* “Carlyle says he won’t go.” “He what?” “I don’t know if he can’t grasp the situation or if he’s simply given up on everything.” “What on earth is she talking about? Is what your aunt said true?” Silas whipped his head around to glare at Carlyle
“Yes, Uncle.” “What’s the reason?” “Ah, well…” “Why in the world are you being so ridiculously stubborn? If you truly wish to die…” Silas, his anger boiling over, strode forward before Carlyle could even finish his answer. He grabbed Carlyle by the collar and growled in a low voice. “Tell me now. And I, your uncle, will personally kill you.” “…” “It would be better to die by my hand than by your father’s.” “…” “Why aren’t you answering?” “…Let.” “What?” “L-Let. Go. Of me.” “...!” Seeing Carlyle’s deathly pale face, Silas realized he had gotten too carried away and his expression faltered
“You didn’t come here to choke him to death before hearing his answer, did you?” “…My apologies.” Embarrassed by Hestia’s sharp rebuke, Silas glanced away for a moment before turning his fearsome gaze back to Carlyle. “Why won’t you leave?” Carlyle coughed for a moment before answering Silas’s question. “Because I don’t want to live like that.” “What do you mean? Are you worried you won’t be able to live a life of luxury anymore?” “It would be a lie to say that’s not part of it.” “You little…!” “More importantly.” Carlyle cut Silas off
“If I run away now, I’ll lose my chance.” “W-What do you mean by that?” Silas was momentarily taken aback. The word ‘atonement’ coming from the mouth of the world’s greatest scoundrel? “I’m trying to find a way to live, and running away now would complicate things.” “Find a way to live?” “Yes.” He could, of course, prove his innocence after escaping. The problem was what would happen if it was revealed that Carlyle had, in fact, killed Alberto. His chance for atonement would be gone forever, and his plan to negotiate a lighter sentence through a plea bargain if things went south would be ruined
“How could you possibly find a way to live?” “That is…” As Carlyle hesitated, wondering how to explain it this time. “Might an old man ask what is going on here?” Maranello appeared at just the right moment. “...!” “...!” Hestia and Silas froze, looking troubled at the sight of Maranello. Because even for them, they could never take Carlyle away without the permission of Maranello, once known as the Grim Reaper of the North. *** “This will become a much bigger problem if there’s more of a commotion
The two of you should return for now.” Maranello, having quickly grasped the situation, politely advised Hestia and Silas. “I cannot do that, Sir Maranello.” Hestia confronted Maranello with a firm tone. To her, Carlyle was like a son, and she couldn't back down so easily, even against Maranello. “Carlyle is one of my few remaining blood relatives. Besides, I swore to my sister that I would protect my nephews.” “How could I not understand?” Maranello offered a smile. “However, the Young Master has his own thoughts on the matter
It would be troublesome if you failed to recognize that, would it not?” “You are too naive, Sir Maranello.” “Pardon?” “Do you truly believe Carlyle has anything resembling a plan?” “…” Maranello was momentarily speechless and couldn't muster a reply. “Now that I think about it, it is strange. There’s no way that boy has a plausible plan. Has he ever had a single thought in his entire life?” Silas, his eyes filled with disbelief, strongly supported Hestia’s opinion. “Ahem.” Maranello tried to cover his embarrassment with a deliberate cough
Truth be told, considering Carlyle’s past behavior, it was impossible to imagine him having a plan. ‘…These people.’ Carlyle, the subject of their discussion, squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. But what could he do? This was the cross he had to bear for possessing the body of a scoundrel. With his credibility not at zero but deep in the negatives, what could he expect? “Ahem, I’m still here.” Unable to listen any longer, Carlyle spoke up, reminding them of his presence. “If you’re going to badmouth me, please do it when I’m not around.” At his words, Hestia, Silas, and Maranello subtly averted their gazes and feigned indifference
“Maranello.” “Yes, Young Master.” “See these two out. I’m going to sleep, so be as quiet as possible.” With that, Carlyle trudged over to his bed and slipped under the covers. “Carlyle!” Hestia shouted in anger, but Carlyle simply rolled himself up in the blanket and didn't respond. “Please, calm yourself and listen to this old man.” Maranello soothed Hestia. “I know full well how the Young Master’s words might sound. But from what I’ve heard, his story isn’t entirely without basis.” “Is that really true?” “Since the Young Master wishes to sleep, let us move elsewhere
Sir Silas, please come this way as well. Let us talk together.” “Ah, yes.” After Maranello persuaded Hestia and Silas to leave with him. ‘Why are they doing this?’ Carlyle thought to himself with his eyes closed. Why, just why. Carlyle couldn't understand at all why the people of the Sigmund family would risk so much to save this good-for-nothing scoundrel. It wasn’t that he didn’t know. His head could grasp it, but his heart couldn't accept it. ‘Is it because I’m a noble? Or because we’re related by blood?’ His thoughts didn't linger for long
‘There’s no need to try and understand what I can’t.’ Carlyle pushed the questions from his mind and tried to sleep. *** The next day. And the day after that. Carlyle found it nearly impossible to get any sleep. His joking concern about a family reunion had turned out to be anything but a joke. “Carlyle, Carlyle. Wake up, quickly.” “Young Master Carlyle, please wake up.” Just as he was about to drift off, relatives and vassals of the Sigmund family would appear and attempt a rescue, constantly interrupting his sleep
‘Should I post a notice?’ Carlyle seriously considered putting up a sign that read, Maranello was the one who suffered the most because of it. He brought a chair and stood guard all night, quietly turning away the unwelcome visitors to help Carlyle get some rest. In the midst of all this, some welcome news arrived. It was the night before the trial, two days away. “Young Master, we’ve received word that Miss Evangeline has successfully performed the ritual.” “Oh?” “Yes, Young Master.” “Good.” That was the extent of Carlyle’s reaction
“Are you not pleased?” “It’s too soon. We won’t know for sure until I check for myself.” “That is true, but…” “Can we slip out for a bit later, at dawn, to check?” “That should be possible.” A few hours later. Carlyle, along with Maranello, slipped out of the castle and met with Evangeline. “You said it was a success?” “Yes! I tried it with my siblings, and it really worked! How did you know about such a ritual…?” “That’s none of your business.” “…Yes.” Evangeline’s expression fell at his cold reply
‘I’ll just have to bulldoze through like this whenever things get tricky.’ Carlyle decided this was one of the perks of being a scoundrel and resolved to make good use of it. Not having to provide a reason for his actions was a rather convenient way to communicate. Sure, he might get an earful, but it didn't matter. They would just think it was the scoundrel being a scoundrel. He was also pleased that having curbed her excitement had calmed Evangeline down. It would surely help her focus her mind before the ritual
“Then…” Evangeline cautiously extended her hand. Carlyle took the hand she offered. It was time to confirm the truth of that night.