Chapter 4
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Not a Bastard, Though (3)
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"Hmph."
Watching Karen's listless figure as she headed to the bathroom, I felt certain.
To think I'd get to see that impassive Karen looking flustered and contemptuous! This direction was definitely right!
This was a pretty good start. Of course, it was just the beginning. From here on, I'd need to get a bit more used to playing the scoundrel.
It wouldn't be easy, but having kicked off to a solid start gave me some confidence.
As I inwardly puffed up with pride, Karen returned from the bathroom and spoke in her usual dry tone.
"That aside, Young Lord Enoch. It's about time we added preparations for the succession ceremony to your schedule. Is that alright?"
"Succession ceremony?"
"Yes. The previous Patriarch's funeral is over, so you should start preparing for the succession. It'll be held about a month from now, so until then, you need to learn basic etiquette and get acquainted with the vassals."
"Hmm. I see."
Well, yeah. When the head of a grand ducal house changes, it wasn't going to end with just an announcement like, "This guy's the Patriarch now!"
Being called Young Lord was nice and all, but the days of doing nothing and just eating and playing were coming to an end, which was a bit regrettable... No, actually, it was a good thing.
Having things to do meant, in other words, that the stage was set for me to properly go wild as a scoundrel.
With a mix of anticipation and tension, I asked for more details.
"So, what's this succession ceremony about?"
"It's where you prove your qualifications and declare yourself the new Patriarch."
"No, I meant, what exactly do I have to do?"
"Ah, I see what you mean."
Karen cleared her throat lightly and straightened her posture—as if to make up for her earlier blunder—which only emphasized her flatness even more as she explained.
"You pour your blood into the magic tool called Blue Blood in front of the invited nobles. It's a rare artifact that measures the strength of one's Bloodline Ability. That proves your power."
"Hmm..."
I'm screwed.
In a noble society that valued Bloodline Abilities so highly, I figured there might be some way to verify it.
I thought I'd lucked out because my traits matched House Zahav's Bloodline Ability characteristics, but apparently not.
I knew who my mother was, but not my father.
But throughout my life, I'd never felt like I was born with any special powers.
My brother in this life—the real bastard son of House Zahav—was obvious at a glance. You could tell he wasn't ordinary.
Tall, big-built, and even at a young age, stronger than adults.
I never would have guessed he had noble blood, but you could immediately sense he was exceptional.
...Though that exceptional nature made him a target for the gangs around us, and he ended up losing his life.
Anyway, he had an unmistakable special quality.
If that was a Bloodline Ability... then it meant I didn't have one.
For other nobles, Blue Blood might be a convenient tool to see how potent their Bloodline Ability was.
But for me, it was basically an execution device proving I had none.
I forced down my trembling voice and spoke.
"Looks like an important event. So when does this succession ceremony start?"
"As you said, it's a crucial event, so we're planning it with full preparations."
"Oh!"
"It'll probably take about a month."
"Oh..."
Got it. Perfectly understood.
So the quest to get exiled for scoundrelly behavior now had a one-month time limit added?
It felt a bit tight, but not impossible.
A month is a long time if it's long, short if it's short.
For now, I'd try my best to get exiled. If that didn't work...
I'd steal something valuable and make a midnight escape.
Of course, that was a last resort. The Head Butler who came to find me in Calypso Territory with Karen.
Aaron Kesef didn't seem like your average old man.
For some reason, he hid his presence more stealthily than the assassins I'd faced in Calypso.
If he pursued me in earnest, shaking him off would be tricky.
A fugitive's life was far too distant from the peace I'd dreamed of.
So, midnight escape was the absolute last resort. For now, I had to do my best at what I could.
Scoundrelly behavior...!
I nodded inwardly and opened my mouth.
"Alright. So what's on the agenda for today?"
"First, meetings with the captains of the Golden Lion and Silver Lion Knights. Lunch is with Count Marlon, the tax collector. In the afternoon, Marquis Adelton is coming with his sons to pledge loyalty in advance. They probably have their own requests, of course. And no evening schedule, but... Lady Jevella has invited you. How should I respond?"
Karen listed off my tasks for the day in her flat tone. I listened blankly to the unexpectedly long schedule for a moment.
Then, a great idea popped into my head. I grinned and put it into action.
"Don't wanna."
"...Pardon? Ah, I'll inform Lady Jevella that you're declining the evening invitation."
"No. I mean I don't like the schedule itself."
"What do you...?"
Karen tilted her head, her expression still blank.
I explained again for her sake.
"In summary, since I've become Young Lord, I have to greet the key vassals before the succession ceremony. And end with dinner with my new sister."
"You were listening properly. Yes."
"Yeah. But I don't wanna."
"I understand it's inconvenient and bothersome, but you must. No one objects to your succession itself, but there are more than a few who covet the Patriarch's favor or scraps of power the master might overlook. You need to build reliable allies..."
"Didn't you hear? I said I don't wanna."
"..."
Silence emanated a sense of confusion from behind her stoic expression.
I chuckled at Karen's reaction and nodded.
"Think about it, Karen. I'm not the official Patriarch yet, but I will be, and right now, I'm undeniably the Young Lord. Right?"
"Yes. The previous Patriarch named you Young Lord before passing, so no one can deny it."
"Exactly. So does the Young Lord have to go around meeting his future subordinates personally? Or is it because I grew up in Calypso Territory and don't understand House Zahav's rules?"
"...That wasn't my intent. So what would you like to do?"
"What do you mean, what?"
I smirked and jutted my chin. A calculated pose to look as arrogant and cocky as possible.
These little details could change the future.
"Call them all here. Whether they're the ones who support me or just scheming to leech off me, have every single one assemble before me."
"Are you serious?"
Karen's eyes widened—she clearly hadn't expected this.
A rare emotional expression from someone whose face barely changed. Curious, I cupped her cheeks with my palms and kneaded them like dough.
Her expression was stiff, but her cheeks were soft.
I pulled on both sides of her cheeks. No resistance. Just a slight frown.
Resistance-free, expressionless maid... no, butler.
Anyway, she had the perfect traits to be a scoundrel's target.
...Still, it was kinda amazing.
Her cheeks stretched and squished under my hands, then snapped right back.
With cheeks that moved so well, why did she live with such a blank face?
I hooked my index finger under her slightly dissatisfied-looking lips and lifted them into an awkward smile, then grinned back.
"Dead serious. We need to make it crystal clear who's servant and who's master, don't we?"
"...As you wish, Young Lord."
She flinched for a moment but soon replied.
Yeah. It'd be troublesome. Vassals important enough for me to meet personally would have deep ties to House Zahav and significant roles.
Me, the sudden intruder, snapping my fingers to summon them like this.
Even by Calypso standards, where I'd ground my teeth in frustration, this was rude and stupid.
There was that mercenary captain who tried to assassinate me and got killed instead. His son once rallied the others for revenge...
Surprisingly, the plan fell apart before it began. Blinded by rage over his father's death, he was rude to the subordinates.
Some mercenaries didn't like it, killed the son, took the loot, and left the group.
I wasn't directly involved, but I'd seen plenty of thriving organizations crumble during successions.
Of course. Even Earth corporations staggered or collapsed during inheritance—let alone in this far more cutthroat and rigid world.
The lesson was simple: People aren't gold coins.
Push them around however you want, and you'll get backlash. Scratching their pride like this would make anything I do later look objectionable.
"Kuhuhu."
This was a good first step toward a gentle exile.
Laughter bubbled up naturally. Amid it came Karen's voice, somehow colder than usual.
"You seem amused, but pardon the interruption, Young Lord."
"Huh?"
"When will you let go of my cheeks?"
"Hm. Does that mean you'd rather I touch somewhere else?"
"...As I said before, you're not yet the master of House Zahav. You have no authority to force me, so prepare yourself accordingly when you do."
I smirked at her resolute attitude and released her cheeks. Drawing this much reaction was enough.
If I wanted to go further... I'd do it where lots of people could see.
...Of course, ending it like this felt a bit lame, so I added one more line.
"Fine. I'll save the real fun for after I become Patriarch."
"..."
"In other words, the cheeks are fair game. I'll settle for that now."
"...I never permitted the cheeks either."
Faint handprints lingered on Karen's cheeks. The soft skin was only subtly swollen—barely noticeable unless you looked closely.
The vassals all dropped to one knee and bowed their heads in unison, leaving me inwardly flustered.
No way—no one was rebelling? If I came out this strong, at least one should step up, right?
My 15 minutes of scoundrel manual brainstorming—half of it was wasted in an instant.