Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 74
Chapter Title: Running Away
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“What’s going on!”
“Are you alright!”
Knights from the royal guard burst in to assess the situation.
They were already on edge, wondering when the mad dog would cause trouble again, so when Evangeline's scream rang out, their expressions were more ‘it finally happened’ than surprised.
“My lady! Was Young Master Carlyle trying to do something terrible to you!”
A knight asked Evangeline.
“No.”
Evangeline furrowed her brow as if to say, ‘What nonsense are you talking about?’ and pointed a trembling hand toward the window.
“The, the Young Master… The Young Master…”
“…?”
“He jumped.”
“…!”
The startled knight hurried to the window.
Fortunately, Carlyle's room wasn't very high, so the risk of falling to his death from the window was minimal.
“Ah! Over there!”
Another knight pointed to a distant rooftop.
Thump, thump, thump!
Carlyle was sprinting across the rooftops.
“Young Master, Young Master!”
“Young Master! Where are you going!”
The knights called out, but Carlyle sprinted at full speed without a single glance back.
“Damn it!”
“It's an emergency!”
The knights' faces turned pale.
“Damn it all! Issue an immediate alert! Report that the Young Master has escaped! Quickly!”
“Yes, sir!”
Meanwhile, Evangeline was relieved that Carlyle hadn't made some sudden, drastic choice, but had simply run away because he didn't want to meet Grand Duke Guntram.
‘Right. There's no way the Young Master would just jump like that.’
The knights, however, were in a frenzy, as if their feet were on fire.
“Mobilize the soldiers immediately to find the Young Master. But, make it absolutely clear that they are not to get close to him. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!”
The knights poured out of Carlyle's bedroom.
From their perspective, Carlyle's escape was a matter of grave importance.
In the past, whenever Carlyle had slipped out of the castle, a major incident would inevitably follow…
***
Carlyle quickly left the inner castle and headed for the bustling streets of the outer castle.
‘Not a chance. He's probably just going to give me another annoying task.’
Carlyle was prepared to do anything to escape the clutches of Grand Duke Guntram.
He already ground his teeth at being sent to a place of death—the battlefield—and he didn't want to face the Grand Duke, fearing he'd be burdened with more troublesome things.
‘I have to show some defiance so he'll bother me less. If I'm too obedient, he'll just order me around more.’
That was the reason for his escape.
‘I should hole up in some inn and get some sleep. Come to think of it, that's a good idea. I'll just stay cooped up for a few days.’
On his way to a nearby inn.
“Gasp!”
“I-It's Young Master Carlyle!”
“Everyone, run!”
“Aaaah!”
The citizens who spotted Carlyle fled for their lives as if a monster had appeared.
“Heh.”
Carlyle let out a dry laugh, seeing the once-crowded street empty in the blink of an eye.
It was a testament to how atrocious Carlyle van Sigmund's past behavior had been.
Of course, not everyone fled from Carlyle.
“S-So handsome.”
“How can he be so handsome? Haaah.”
Instead of running, a few young women stared at Carlyle, mesmerized.
They looked just like moths drawn to a flame.
Moths that fly into the fire, unaware they'll be burned to death.
“I think I can understand the minds of those who like men.”
Even a large, bald, middle-aged man admired Carlyle.
‘I guess I'll have to wear a hood. How does everyone know me?’
It was natural for the citizens to recognize the son of their lord, Grand Duke Guntram, but Carlyle stood out far too much.
Even without mentioning his past misdeeds, his extreme good looks had the side effect of naturally drawing everyone's attention.
“Gasp!”
The moment the clothing shop owner saw Carlyle, his face looked as if he'd seen a ghost.
“Give me a hooded cloak.”
“Y-Yes…?”
“Didn't you hear me? I said, give me a hooded cloak.”
“Ah, I understand. What color would you like?”
“Something that doesn't stand out.”
“The price range… I understand. I'll bring it right away.”
Seeing Carlyle's expression, the shop owner quickly brought out a black, hooded cloak.
“The state of this material.”
“I-Is it not to your liking? I can bring another…”
“Forget it. What can I expect from a trashy shop like this?”
Clink. Carlyle tossed a few coins onto the shop floor.
‘This disrespectful bastard! Throwing money on the floor? I gave him the best cloak in my shop!’
The shop owner cursed Carlyle inwardly and was about to pick up the fallen coins when he noticed something strange and flinched.
“Th-This is.”
Gleam, gleam!
What Carlyle had thrown on the floor were none other than gold coins.
He counted them—there were eleven.
“Y-Young Master?”
“What.”
“This is too much…”
“Why, is it not enough?”
“No, no!”
The shop owner waved his hands frantically.
“It's too much, Young Master. This cloak is only worth two gold coins. I'll give you the rest as cha—”
“Are you telling me to touch money that's been on the ground?”
“Th-That's.”
“Forget it. Just use it to supplement your meager living. Running a trashy shop like this, you'll probably go bankrupt soon enough.”
With those words, Carlyle left the shop without a hint of regret.
“That disrespectful bas—... no.”
The shop owner was about to curse Carlyle but shut his mouth when he saw the palm full of gold coins.
“Should I be offended by this, or happy…”
The shop owner didn't know what to do.
‘Ugh.’
Meanwhile, Carlyle shuddered, finding this first attempt at playing the part of a scoundrel completely unsuited to his nature.
But he needed to show that his temper hadn't died down.
That way, Grand Duke Guntram would treat him with the mindset of ‘please just don't cause trouble,’ without bothering him or holding any expectations.
“A room. Give me one.”
“How long will you be staying, sir?”
“Even I don't know that.”
“I'm sorry to say, but lodging is paid in advance. If you wish to stay indefinitely, you'll need to leave a deposit…”
Thud. Carlyle placed a few gold coins on the table, and the innkeeper's attitude changed 180 degrees.
“My goodness, welcome. I'll show you to our finest room.”
He called it the finest room, but it was utterly shabby.
But Carlyle made no complaints whatsoever.
He had deliberately chosen the shabbiest inn in case Grand Duke Guntram came looking for him.
The innkeeper's words were likely true.
This room was probably the ‘cleanest’ and most spacious one they had.
“Bring my meals to the room when it's time.”
“Yes, sir. Of course. Haha.”
The innkeeper, who seemed not to have held gold coins in a long time, looked ready to bend over backward for him.
Flop. Carlyle collapsed onto the hard, smelly bed.
Suddenly, a smirk escaped him.
“This place is more comfortable than my own room.”
Carlyle muttered this and closed his eyes to catch up on much-needed sleep.
Before long, he fell into a deep sleep.
Just as Maranello had said, it seemed the battlefield had become more familiar to him in just two short months.
***
“…So.”
Grand Duke Guntram looked at Maranello in disbelief.
“You're saying he escaped? The moment he received my summons?”
“I regret to inform you, but yes.”
Maranello squeezed his eyes shut, as if the words were difficult to say.
“What do you think is the reason?”
“Hmm.”
“It's alright, speak your mind.”
“It seems your second son finds Your Grace's presence… burdensome.”
“Burdensome?”
“To be precise, it's closer to him refusing to accept any expectations from you, Your Grace.”
“Refusing expectations…”
Grand Duke Guntram frowned.
“Have I ever placed a burden on him?”
“How could that be?”
Maranello replied as if the idea was absurd.
“Your Grace has never placed any expectations on your second son. You merely wished for him to fulfill his minimum responsibilities and duties as a Sigmund. However, it seems your second son thinks differently.”
“Do you have any idea why he might think that way?”
“Well.”
Maranello thought for a moment before speaking.
“As you have already been briefed, your second son has achieved great growth in just two months.”
“Frankly, I find it hard to believe.”
As he spoke, Grand Duke Guntram's eyes showed strong disbelief.
It was unbelievable.
That mad dog, the problem child who nearly cut off his own father's arm, achieved outstanding military merit on the battlefield?
And on top of that, he achieved Blood Seal Awakening?
For anyone who knew Carlyle's past, it was an absolutely incredible story.
“I'll admit he seems to have changed a little. But Blood Seal Awakening? You know as well as I do that it is not something just anyone can achieve. Until I see it with my own eyes, I will never belie—”
“That is not what's important right now, Your Grace.”
“Hm.”
“It seems the Young Master is concerned that your stance toward him will change along with his growth.”
“…!”
“After all, isn't it human nature to have expectations for someone who shows ability?”
“I suppose so. I won't deny it.”
Grand Duke Guntram revealed his complex feelings.
“As a father, I want nothing from him, nor do I expect anything. I simply wish for him to live a healthy, happy life. But the Lord of Decaron is different. I have no choice but to demand the minimum responsibilities and duties of a Sigmund.”
“How could I not understand?”
“It's a terrible thing. Being the head of the Sigmund family, the Lord of Decaron. To think a father can't even freely see his son's face when he's home on his first leave.”
“Your Grace…”
“I understand what you're saying. I'll leave him be for a few days. He must need his own time.”
Maranello felt he could understand the Grand Duke's feelings and couldn't bring himself to say anything.
Perhaps it was impossible for a good lord and a good father to coexist.
And that was the weight a lord was destined to bear.
“Your Grace.”
“Speak.”
“If you wish to ask something of the Young Master, try making a proposal instead of giving a command.”
“A proposal…?”
“As you know, the Young Master has a personality that despises coercion.”
“That's certainly true. He's a contrarian like no other.”
“But if you coax him by promising some tempting reward instead of ordering him, he might be surprisingly compliant.”
“A tempting reward, you say. But even if I wanted to offer one, the only things he enjoys are wine, women, and gambling, are they not? As a father, I cannot provide such vices for my son.”
Grand Duke Guntram said, looking displeased at the very thought.
“Heh heh.”
Maranello let out a dry laugh.
“From what I've observed, the Young Master seems to have lost interest in such pursuits.”
“That is indeed welcome news. But if he's lost interest in wine and women, doesn't that mean he no longer has anything he likes? How, then, can I make a tempting proposal to someone who desires nothing?”
“Well, isn't that a matter for Your Grace to ponder yourself?”
“Ahem.”
Grand Duke Guntram's expression suggested he was getting a headache just thinking about it.
“Then, this old man shall take his leave.”
“You may go.”
After Maranello left.
“A tempting reward…”
For a long time after, Grand Duke Guntram pondered what could possibly entice Carlyle.