Misunderstanding (3)

Evan doubted his own ears.

What did I supposedly do?

Get the young nobles addicted to drugs?

Have I gone insane?

Evan's face twisted with sheer absurdity—enough to crack even the expressionless mask he always maintained.

Leo snorted.

"Planning to deny it? I already know everything. To think you'd pin the crime on some innocent baron's son."

No—why would I?

Distributing drugs to noble heirs wasn't merely ignorant. It was downright stupid. It was the same as making enemies of the entire aristocracy. Not only the parents of the addicted children, but every other noble would become your foe. The principle was the same as with a serial killer. Perhaps even worse. A serial killer at least killed people. Drugs left them in a state worse than death. Who would look kindly on someone who might addict their child at any moment?

Evan knew this well. He had understood the dangers ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of drugs from his modern life. It wasn't for nothing that he despised both the underworld and every form of narcotic.

And yet they claimed he had gone out of his way to bring drugs and supply them? With the courage to be hated? Even if he were mad, he would never do that.

"Don't tell me you attended the ball for that plan? You've decided to completely destroy the Alcarte family's reputation."

"……There's been a misunderstanding."

Evan spoke in as calm a voice as he could manage, trying not to show his panic.

Ah, my throat feels a bit tight.

Putting force into his throat to keep it from cracking, his voice naturally dropped a little lower.

"I have never brought any drugs, nor have I given any to the young nobles."

"Then are you saying Lady Asella lied?"

The notorious villainess, Asella. At the familiar name, Evan understood.

No—that crazy woman!

What the hell? This is ridiculous.

Beyond exasperation, he was getting angry. Aargh! Should I just man up and charge in? Send a few golems after her?

Evan had his pride too. If she was going to come at him like this and shatter his pure heart, he had no choice but to become a bad man instead of a good one.

I need to deal with that first, though. What do I do?

While Evan fretted, the gazes grew even more murderous. At this rate, they looked ready to roast him alive with their eyes alone.

Why do they hate me so much?

"……Did she really say that I did it?"

Let's just move past this for now.

"Yes."

"Then bring me the evidence that I did it."

"What?"

Leonardo's face twisted into a frown. It wasn't particularly scary. Leonardo was relatively small in build. He preferred a sharp, swift blade over a heavy greatsword. His appearance did look a bit frail, truth be told.

I could probably win against him at this level?

A little confidence returned to Evan.

"Please prove that I brought and distributed the drugs. If you can, I'll admit it."

"How dare you……"

"What kind of drugs did I bring, and how did I supply them?"

Leonardo did not answer. Given his usual personality, Evan had expected him to stay quiet. But to come out so boldly and confidently?

……This is unexpected.

Leo also knew he wasn't the culprit. Mass addiction. All sorts of young nobles had become addicted to drugs. The known culprit was some baron's son—a frontier noble whose name he couldn't even remember. But those in the know all knew. The real culprit. Asella Fraus was the true perpetrator. Leo knew this fact as well.

Yet the reason he was still framing Evan—it was because of a proposal that had come from Asella not long ago.

Leonardo's position was unclear. He was closest to being the heir, but only so long as Evan remained inactive. If Evan continued to stand out like this, he might lose his place.

I am the one who will inherit this family.

No—I must be the one. He needed to check Evan even now. If Evan continued to act, became the heir, and seized power alone—Leo would surely be a dead man. He had to survive and seize power.

A fierce will. It would never break. Even with that strange little girl's threats—Lapis. His wrist still ached. The wrist ligaments that had barely recovered. A wound that would have crippled him for life if it had been just a little deeper. But that was all. In the end the wound had healed, and Leo had survived. Trials that couldn't kill him only made Leo stronger.

I must not yield even a little.

At first, when Duke Cabaro had told Evan to go to the ball, Leo had expected him to throw a fit. Evan had always hated and despised the Duke, after all. Surely he would rage, Are you trying to make me into a clown?!

The result was unexpected. He had calmly accepted the proposal. And that wasn't all. His attitude had grown more and more confident. It was the same now. Denying it was one thing, but pressuring him to bring evidence? Even lowering his voice?

"I have no evidence, but you must have some."

Leo put force into his voice.

"Open your laboratory and prove your innocence."

"……."

"You must prove the evidence that you didn't do it. How dare you damage our family's prestige and then demand that we prove the evidence?"

A subtle wordplay. It was also a war of words.

"Ridiculous. If you're truly so confident, then prove it."

Evidence of I didn't do it versus evidence of I did. A fight where even a slight loss of momentum meant defeat.

Evan stared at Leo. Eyes that showed no emotion whatsoever. Without realizing it, Leo's lips curled—an effort to stop the cold sweat flowing.

Then—

From beyond the door, Duke Cabaro's voice was heard.

"……Father."

Cold sweat beaded on Leo's forehead. Had he been listening to the entire conversation? The office had soundproofing magic. It blocked both internal and external noise. The only way to disable it was by the family head's will alone. The Duke, who normally never released it, claiming it interfered with his work—had he disabled it now?

A firm voice that permitted no refusal. Rebellion boiled deep in Leo's chest. Why was he protecting that scoundrel? Had he been protecting him all this time, anticipating this moment? What if that was a mask? But the rebellion only boiled. He couldn't refuse.

"……Yes. Father."

His greatest act of defiance was calling him "Father" instead of "Your Grace." It meant he would treat him as a father, not as a noble. Duke Cabaro did not scold him for this. He simply opened the door with mana—a threat that wasn't quite a threat—ordering him to enter.

"……We'll talk later. I will not permit anything that lowers our family's standing."

Leo strode confidently into the room.

What is that idiot's problem.

Left alone, Evan dug at his ear. Ugh, it itches so much I thought I'd die. I should just go sleep.

A strange silence hung in the Duke's office. Leo swallowed dryly. His mouth was parched, fingertips trembling. An oppressive pressure weighed down the entire air. Yet the Duke was simply examining documents with no expression at all. For a while, crushed by the presence, he maintained silence without saying a word.

"Leo."

Swish. Having neatly arranged his pen and documents, the Duke quietly closed his eyes, then opened them and spoke.

"Why did you try to frame Evan Alcarte? You should already know the truth of the matter."

"……It was to test him."

Leo somehow managed to open his mouth. His father's shadow was still vast and dark, but he must not be pushed back. A wall he must someday overcome. No matter the pressure, he would not yield.

"Evan Alcarte's ill repute is already widely known. I was worried about what schemes he might be plotting within—whether he would damage the family's reputation. Father, you must know this as well. So why have you summoned me like this?"

The question also ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠carried the implication of favoritism toward a child. Duke Cabaro was not flustered. As always, he slowly adjusted his posture and clasped his hands together. His nearly golden eyes locked onto Leo's body. Leo's complexion went slightly pale.

"I am not scolding you for bullying your younger brother."

The heavy voice pressed down on Leo.

"I simply disliked the sight of you being swayed by something so trivial."

"……."

"Leo. I know what proposal you received from Lady Asella."

He knew…… everything?

Leo's eyelids trembled. The contact. It had naturally been conducted in secret—outside the mansion, through a force he was raising separately with money, shadows that moved solely for Leo. How did he know the information exchanged through them?

"Asella Fraus. I know that young lady is eyeing our family. Do you truly think that joining hands with her to eliminate a rival will help you in the succession competition?"

"……."

Leo fell silent. Swish. Duke Cabaro slowly rose from his seat.

"Leonardo Alcarte. Do not be mistaken. A rival is not something to eliminate, but something to overcome."

"……."

"If a rival appears on the path you must walk forward, and you join hands with an enemy to borrow strength and push them aside—do you think you will be able to grow?"

"……Then what should I do if I meet an enemy I absolutely cannot defeat? Are you telling me to simply lose?"

"The moment you think that, you become a loser. Why do you think you cannot win?"

"……."

Leo could not refute him. A fundamentally wrong thought. Born as the master of the family, a noble, and a strong man, Cabaro had never even considered such a thing.

"Whether you become a defeated man or a conquering overlord—that is for you to decide. Leonardo."

The thought that he would lose. Duke Cabaro spoke calmly.

"Remember this."

"……I will keep it in mind."

"You may leave."

"……Yes, Your Grace."

Perhaps the words had gotten through a little—at the end, it was "Your Grace" rather than "Father." Having paid proper respects to the Duke, Leonardo left the room.

Alone in the room, the Duke pressed his thumb and index finger against the corners of his eyes.

Knock knock. Someone knocked on the door. Even without Cabaro saying to open it, the door opened on its own. The one who entered was Nataliya. When Nataliya entered, Cabaro's expression softened for the first time.

"……My lady."

"……I saw Leo leaving. Did you speak with that child?"

"It was merely my one-sided lecturing."

"Lecturing? Who would think of it that way."

Cabaro and Nataliya were a rare case of a love marriage after courtship. They were a couple who could share their hearts and comfort each other. When Nataliya naturally sat on his lap and gave him a small embrace, Duke Cabaro closed his eyes and savored the warmth.

"……Today, Evan came as well."

"!"

Nataliya's eyes widened.

"That child too?"

"……Yes."

"……I thought he would never come again after Lyla died."

Lyla. She had been a "concubine" due to the difference in status, but a wife he had loved as sincerely as Nataliya. She was also Evan's deceased mother.

"Does that child still hate you?"

"……He must."

Duke Cabaro leaned back in his chair from fatigue. Nataliya placed her hand over the back of his and layered them together.

"How could he not hate me. Such a worthless father."

Cabaro had been a born noble, but he had not been a born father. The duties and responsibilities he had to bear were far too heavy, and made it impossible for him to be an excellent father. When Lyla began suffering from an incurable disease, and even when Evan cried out begging him to somehow save her, the reason he could only coldly tell him to observe proper etiquette—that was the duty and responsibility a noble must have. Because there could be no favoritism toward one child. Because a fair succession competition had to take place. Even watching Evan slowly go mad, he could not intervene. Quietly, without drawing attention, looking after him was the best he could do.

"Evan. That child…… I hear his talent is outstanding. The rumors are already widespread."

Nataliya asked in a worried voice.

"If Evan truly commits the Taboo……"

"……Fortunately, I hear he has given up on that."

"Truly?"

Joy filled Nataliya's voice.

"That's truly a relief……!"

If Evan were to commit the Taboo, regardless of success or failure, he would have to be killed. Not by anyone else, but by the family head, Cabaro. Fortunately, Evan had given up on that dream. That fact made him feel so sorry, and so proud. Though it didn't show at all.

"Has he forgotten Lyla?"

"……Or perhaps he has changed direction. Toward resenting me."

"Darling……"

Nataliya looked at him with sad eyes and quietly held his hand.

"……There's a rumor going around these days. That Evan, that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠child, distributed drugs."

"I know."

"Will you step in?"

If the Duke stepped in, the rumor would be suppressed within a week. That was the weight the name of Duke Alcarte carried. But Cabaro shook his head.

"It wouldn't look good for me to step in."

Directly managing and securing influence in high society was the responsibility of the young nobles themselves. Even when bearing an unfair accusation. The moment a parent intervened, the young noble lost their independence. That also meant losing the power a noble must possess. Even if Evan stepped forward himself, it would be the same. Considering the moniker he was called by in the underworld, it would rather be a disaster.

"Then……"

"I heard he sent a letter to the Saintess before coming."

Perhaps he anticipated such rumors. A child who had become extremely sensitive after Lyla's death. Though he had changed somewhat these days.

"Really……"

The way he anticipated so much and prepared solutions in advance. It was just like……

"He resembles you."

Lyla. He resembled his deceased mother.

Meanwhile.

The Grand Temple of the Sun God. The Saintess looked at the letter Arthur ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had personally delivered and let out a laugh.

"……Heh, heheh."

Cold sweat trickled down her forehead. The Saintess wiped it away and forced a leisurely smile.

"What has our little young master taken issue with this time?"

The bishop who led the heretics worshipping a forgotten god. Bishop Blake had been delivered in the form of a heart.

Along with a single letter.