Breakfast with the Duke
The head of the Winfred family, Belger Winfred, muttered to himself as he recalled his recent conversation with Kyle. The broken engagement...
“I wish to break off my engagement with Isabelle.”
Isabelle Ustia. The woman he had obsessed over and clung to for years. The boy had clearly stated his desire to end that very engagement.
“Hmm.”
He was the same wretch who had once dared to seek a marriage alliance with the esteemed daughter of a count house without knowing his place. The image of him crawling across the floor like an insect, too terrified to meet anyone’s eyes, still haunted the Duke’s vision. Yes, that was exactly it. A creature no better than a worm in both ability and character, yet swollen with arrogance, a scoundrel who rampaged without understanding his station. A complete weakling. Trash. A half-measure. That was the Kyle Winfred the Duke had known.
And then, at some point, the boy had changed completely.
“Do you want your family destroyed?”
The fierce gleam in those blue eyes as Kyle glared at him from up close still refused to fade. Even in a situation where his neck could be severed at any moment, the boy had never lost his composure.
“It’s astounding.”
Countless emotions flickered across the Duke’s face before sinking away again. The old butler, who had been watching him, spoke with careful restraint.
“What are your thoughts, Your Grace?”
“On what?”
“On Young Master Kyle, sir.”
The butler had already delivered his report about the disturbance from a few days earlier. The complete reversal in which Isabelle was now the one desperately clinging to Kyle.
The Duke felt no particular stir of emotion. The romantic entanglements of a bastard child held no interest for him, and besides, he was bound by the contract he had signed with Kyle to assist in dissolving the engagement.
“...”
The deliberately fabricated rumors surrounding Kyle. The secretive, persistent ostracism he endured within the mansion. The Duke had long known that misplaced fury and hatred were eating the boy alive. Yet he had allowed it. A half-wit incapable of overcoming even that much hardship had no right to bear the Winfred name. That was why.
The Duke clicked his tongue softly. “Tsk. There’s nothing to be done. We’ll simply have to observe for now.”
Observation. That was the conclusion he had reached. At first glance it might appear to be an empty decision devoid of substance, but the truth was different. Belger Winfred was a cold-blooded man who cared only for his own safety and the prosperity of his house. For such a man to choose observation meant Kyle had successfully captured his interest.
The old butler, reading the unspoken meaning, bowed his head in acknowledgment.
A moment later, the Duke issued a meaningful order in a casual tone.
“Include that boy Kyle in tomorrow’s breakfast.”
A full day had passed since the Duke’s return to the mansion. Nothing of note had occurred. Isabelle had remained completely silent since that day, offering no further response, while the Duke had faithfully carried out every condition he had promised in exchange for the Holy Blood.
The dissolution of the engagement with Isabelle was now all but official. With a blank check bearing the Winfred seal in hand, future operating funds were effectively secured.
Everything was proceeding smoothly according to plan. Except for one thing.
“What the hell is this? Why does it keep rising?”
It had gone up again. The progress rate that had been at three percent was now five—an increase of two full points. It had risen three percent the day he first mentioned breaking the engagement to Isabelle. After bombarding her with cold truths when she suddenly appeared at the mansion, it had climbed another two percent.
The common factor was Isabelle. The more their relationship deteriorated, the higher the progress rate rose in direct proportion. That was the conclusion I had reached after thinking about it all day.
“...Still, five percent isn’t too bad for now.”
The engagement was officially broken, and the day I would leave the Duke’s estate was drawing near. Of course, I couldn’t claim every obstacle had been cleared. The road ahead remained long and treacherous.
My ultimate goal was to obtain the Holy Relic and open the dimensional gate. Naturally, the process would be anything but easy.
“Lack of information, and above all else...”
Strength. The martial prowess this body currently possessed was beyond poor—it was downright pathetic. That didn’t mean there was no hope at all. As the game’s major villain, Kyle’s latent potential was set to surpass anyone else’s. Still, I needed a way to protect myself right now. Not in some distant future—immediately.
It didn’t take long to find a solution.
“...Diana.”
Diana. No family name followed hers. She was a commoner, after all, not a noble. A female knight of common birth. The title sounded utterly insignificant at first glance, but the reality was entirely different. After all, Diana was one of the game’s major characters. Anyone the world had marked as significant possessed at least one exceptional talent, and that talent would inevitably bloom when the time came.
The talent Diana harbored was that of a knight. Specialized in protecting others—the exact ability I needed most right now.
“The knighting ceremony is coming up soon.”
To recruit her, I would need to attend the ceremony. Attendance itself posed no difficulty. The problem was...
“...Isabelle.”
The knighting ceremony would be held at the Grand Cathedral, which stood only a few steps from the Ustia count residence.
“Haa.”
It left a bad taste in my mouth, but there was no helping it. To secure Diana, I would simply have to accept that level of risk.
That was when it happened.
Knock, knock—
Someone rapped on the door.
“Come in.”
The door clicked open, and the old butler stepped inside.
“What is it?”
“His Grace has invited you to the breakfast that will be held shortly, Young Master.”
“...Breakfast?”
Of all things. Was he seriously suggesting we eat together right now?
“Why?”
“That is... I am not certain myself...”
“So he’s suddenly calling me over to sit face-to-face and share a meal. Is that what this is?”
The old butler nodded quickly.
The Duke had clearly lost his mind.
“I prefer to eat alone in my room.”
“However, it is a direct command from His Grace...”
I barely suppressed the frown that threatened to overtake my face.
“Who else will be attending this breakfast?”
“Only His Grace and yourself, Young Master. Just the two of you.”
“What? What about the others?”
“The Young Duke and the Lady are still residing at the Imperial Palace, and the Duchess departed for the palace several days ago to attend them.”
I let out a deep, inward sigh. A meal alone with the Duke already made my stomach turn. Yet refusing without good cause would be awkward. I could hardly tell the man to his face that the mere sight of him made me want to vomit.
...Perhaps this is for the best?
I would need the Duke’s permission to attend the knighting ceremony. Sooner or later, I would have to request another audience with him. In that case, it wouldn’t hurt to flatter him a little during the meal and casually bring up the subject.
After forcing myself through that rationalization, I gave a slow nod.
“Lead the way.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
With a creak, I followed the old butler out of the room.
By the time we reached the dining hall, breakfast was already fully prepared. The meal began without delay.
“...”
“...”
It was awkward. No exaggeration—it was excruciatingly awkward. I couldn’t even tell whether I was chewing food or a mouthful of sand. I never imagined sharing a table with an unwelcome person could be such torture. A solemn vow never to attend another breakfast swirled through my mind.
A heavy tension blanketed the room. I kept shoveling food into my mouth, desperate to finish and escape to my quarters, when the Duke—who had remained silent the entire time—finally spoke.
“Did you receive separate instruction in table etiquette? Most impressive.”
The proper order of utensils, the correct way to hold a fork and knife, impeccable table manners. The Duke gazed at my flawless execution with genuine admiration.
I stole a sideways glance at his expression. There wasn’t the slightest hint of suspicion—only pure astonishment. It revealed just how little attention he had ever paid to Kyle.
At least that’s fortunate.
I was not Kyle Winfred. My habits, speech patterns, preferences—none of them matched. I was an entirely different person wearing his skin. If the Duke had shown even the faintest interest in Kyle, he would have noticed immediately that something else was inhabiting his son’s body.
Yet astonishingly, I had encountered no one in this world who suspected me. The realization was almost shocking.
“Ha...”
An icy laugh escaped before I could stop it. I set down my utensils, turned to face the Duke, and spoke.
“I intend to attend the knighting ceremony.”
The Duke’s busy hands froze. After a moment, he asked in a flat voice.
“For what reason?”
“What other reason would there be for seeking a knight? To protect my own body, of course.”
I answered curtly. Yet the Duke still looked unconvinced.
“Have you never considered that the family’s own knights would suffice?”
A hollow chuckle slipped out. His question contained an obvious flaw.
“How could I possibly trust the family’s knights enough to entrust them with my life?”
“...”
“I need a knight who will guard me, not one sworn to the family.”
“What?”
“When even the servants whisper behind my back, I cannot bring myself to trust knights who have pledged loyalty to this house.”
At my sharp retort, the Duke’s mouth snapped shut. His expression darkened by the second. I continued, eyes raised.
“I will attend the knighting ceremony.”