Chapter 94
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Translator: Prime Works
Chapter: 94
Chapter Title: Tattling and Three-Card Monte (2)
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“……That guy, really.”
Lloyd grinned.
A wry smile slipped out before he knew it.
Julian stood before him.
Just looking at the kid filled him with a warm, proud feeling.
But at the same time, his hands and feet shriveled up in embarrassment without mercy.
Especially when he replayed what the boy had just said.
“So, you’re saying you don’t hate me anymore?”
“……Yeah, sure.”
“That means you hated me a lot before, huh.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“So, how’re you gonna treat me now?”
“Uh, well…….”
“Like, all buddy-buddy?”
“Mm, not exactly.”
“Then? Friendly?”
“…….”
“Totally warm and fuzzy and sweet and soft?”
“……Ah, crap.”
Julian’s face crumpled.
A smug smile played on Lloyd’s lips.
“Now do you get what you just did?”
“Phew, yeah.”
“Hands and feet shriveling up, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I got goosebumps all the way to my toenails, you punk.”
“…….”
“Never say sappy crap like that again.”
“…….”
“Ugh, nearly gave me a duodenal spasm, for real.”
Lloyd patted his stomach with exaggerated thumps.
Sure, he’d said it to tease, but he didn’t feel bad.
No, honestly, he was overjoyed and gratified beyond words.
Just because he’d earned a ton of RP?
No.
The visible jackpot of RP was gratifying, of course, but the heartfelt warmth outweighed it by far.
It suddenly reminded him of his childhood.
*‘Back then, I thought it’d be nice to have a little brother.’*
Anyone with siblings would probably freak out and try to talk him out of it.
But he’d been sincere.
Being an only child, he couldn’t help it.
So he’d occasionally throw tantrums at his parents.
*I want a little brother too.*
*I wanna play with a sibling like the kids next door.*
Then around age eight, he remembered.
One day, he’d scribbled on the living room wall with crayons.
He’d drawn the Taekwon-V robot that every boy knew.
A bit shorter than himself at the time.
Complete with a dynamic victory pose.
He’d even colored it neatly.
That evening, beaming with pride, he’d declared to his stunned parents staring at the unexpected mural: *From today, that’s my little brother.*
Back then, his parents hadn’t scolded him—they’d just given awkward wry smiles.
So he hadn’t known.
That he himself had been born through IVF, barely making it.
*‘……Phew, don’t think about it.’*
Sometimes—no, occasionally.
Old memories like this would surge up out of nowhere.
Dragging him into pointless sentimentality without warning.
Lloyd let out a faint sigh, shoving the flickering tail-end of the memory deep into his chest.
Then he looked at Julian.
“Anyway, I’m heading back to the barony tomorrow. Ah, but first, gotta get through tonight’s dinner plans.”
“Dinner plans?”
“Yeah. His Majesty mentioned it earlier. Said there’s gonna be an awesome party tonight and I have to attend.”
“A party?”
“Yeah. A banquet. To celebrate the suspension bridge completion, hosted by the royals. Eh, it’ll be the usual. Orchestra playing, nobles networking while eyeing each other. Then some rude young noble acts up, I shout ‘Duel!’ and it’s on. Total cliché repertoire.”
“Bro, your imagination’s gotten richer.”
“I’ll take that as me getting smarter. Anyway, you’re coming with me.”
“Huh? Me too?”
Julian’s eyes went wide.
Lloyd chuckled.
“Of course. You’re the Master Craftsman’s brother. That alone qualifies you. Plus—”
His tone turned meaningful.
“Like I said earlier, at that banquet, you’ll run into a bunch of high nobles.”
“Mm, then…….”
“The guys from the families I tattled on this afternoon will be there too.”
“Won’t that be awkward?”
“Nah, you gotta show up bold as brass. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re the victim. Hiding? Ridiculous.”
He meant it.
The bolder, the better.
Face full of grit, titanium-thick skin.
“So let’s get you some shamelessness while we’re at it. Got it? That’s how you make life easier down the line.”
“Yeah, got it.”
Julian nodded, grasping the intent.
Smart kid, as expected.
Lloyd felt that warmth again.
And steeled himself for his own sake.
*‘This banquet tonight probably won’t just be a celebration.’*
The Queen wasn’t that sloppy.
She’d definitely try to keep him close.
Flashy titles, jaw-dropping rewards. All sorts of honey traps to pin him in the capital.
She’d summoned him here, tested his skills, to exploit him just like that.
*‘Of course, I’ve got no intention of sticking around easily.’*
His dream was still to be a jobless drone like a honeybee.
No more hardship.
He was done with overworking.
Time to return to the barony, pay off debts, and live sucking honey.
So now was the time for one last three-card monte to slip away clean.
♣
A languid, elegant melody tickled the marble floors.
Chandelier sparkles cascaded like starlight.
In the glorious hall of the lavish, grand royal palace banquet.
Lloyd stood dressed in his dress uniform.
As the Queen approached, he bowed.
Then struck first, preemptively.
“Long live the great Queen. I am deeply grateful for Your Majesty’s grace, but no thank you.”
“……No to what?”
Queen Alicia Termina Magentano’s eyebrow arched sharply. He never ceased to amaze with his brazenness.
She asked again.
“I haven’t asked anything yet. So what are you refusing so outright that you lead with ‘no’ to me?”
“You were about to offer me suitable lands and a title.”
“I was?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Why?”
“You were going to tell me to take a royal office.”
“Hmm, have you learned mind-reading?”
“No, Your Majesty.”
“Then?”
“It’s just intuition.”
“Ha.”
Clink.
The Queen chuckled shortly, setting down her crystal glass.
She took a fresh one from the steward’s tray.
Over the rim as she tilted it slightly.
Her lowered gaze held Lloyd.
“At this point, I can’t help but acknowledge it. Your guess is correct. Tonight, I planned to grant you fitting lands, a title, vast gold. And an office befitting you.”
“To announce that to all, you held this banquet.”
“Indeed.”
The second glass tilted.
Dry sparkling with high acidity first.
Then reds with subtle flavors, step by step.
That was Queen Alicia’s drinking routine.
She stuck to it faithfully as she spoke.
“So I wonder. I offer title, lands, gold, an office—why say no?”
“No grand reason, Your Majesty. Simply—”
“Simply?”
“I prefer a quiet life in the countryside.”
“……That’s it? That’s your only reason?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Lloyd bowed deeper.
The Queen, tilting her third glass, fell silent.
Watching her reaction, he thought.
*‘Good. Going just as planned.’*
He recalled the earlier dilemma.
Up to attending this evening’s banquet, he’d agonized nonstop.
The inevitable recruitment offer from the Queen.
How to turn it down best.
Dressed, hair groomed, in the carriage—he’d pondered relentlessly.
And reached a conclusion.
Straight-up honesty was the way.
*‘Half-baked excuses could backfire into a trap.’*
Plenty of excuses possible.
Ill health, family troubles.
Busy, not ready mentally.
Anything could be an excuse.
Like lying for sickbay, early leave, or advancing vacation.
But someone once said.
In Korea, the only one who succeeded with excuses was Kim Gun×.
Lloyd figured it applied here too.
*‘The moment you excuse, you’re caught in your own web.’*
Health excuse? Get healthy.
Family woes or busyness? Same deal.
All vanish once the cause is gone—no follow-up.
Especially against the Queen.
A flimsy excuse to dodge office? Later, no escape—she’d hook him as her vassal.
*‘Just like Prime Minister Hwang Hee.’*
Late Goryeo era.
Hwang Hee, exam buddy of King Taejong Lee Bangwon.
But later?
Picked by his son, King Sejong, slaved till death—no rest.
Begged to retire—fell on deaf ears.
Health, family—nothing worked.
Worked to the bone till he dropped dead.
*‘Ugh, chills.’*
Lloyd shuddered.
No thanks to an unasked-for lifetime of slavery.
Better to go straight, no excuses. Higher odds.
That’s what he judged. Acted on. Executed.
And got the expected response.
“I see. You refuse me so bluntly—you must really hate it.”
“My apologies, Your Majesty.”
“No. Forcing the unwilling beside me benefits no one. A body without heart won’t serve faithfully.”
A wry smile tugged the Queen’s lips.
“I’m no tyrant. You’re a meritorious servant, feats in the capital and Creemo alike. I respect your will. Return home, live your days in peace as you wish.”
“Your grace overwhelms me, Your Majesty.”
“Truly?”
“…….”
“You must feel relieved inside. I know. So I ask: if your heart changes, come to the capital anytime.”
“……The door to office always open, Your Majesty?”
“Naturally.”
Clink.
Fourth glass in hand, Queen Alicia said.
“On my name, I promise: lands, title, office for you—ready anytime.”
“Your grace overwhelms me, Your Majesty.”
“May you truly feel it later. Dismissed.”
Her turning footsteps.
Clicking heels faded.
Only then did Lloyd slowly raise his bowed head.
“Phew.”
The held breath finally whooshed out.
Fist stroking chest clenched suddenly.
*‘Success!’*
Lloyd cheered inwardly.
Straight talk worked, thankfully.
*‘Even a queen can’t force the unwilling into office.’*
Suddenly recalled the famous Three Kingdoms tale: Three Visits to the Thatched Hut.
Liu Bei’s desperate sales pitch for Zhuge Liang.
This world had people too—similar.
His hunch hit perfectly.
*‘Plus, promise of title and lands later if needed. Perfect retirement safety net.’*
A gratified smile crept out.
Everything set.
Debts paid.
Just live sucking honey forever.
Like owning a debt-free 34-pyeong newbuild in Gangnam, cash German luxury car, kids’ tuition, college, weddings, pension—all covered.
*‘Phew. Can’t wait to get back to the barony.’*
So tonight, relax easy.
Enjoy the palace banquet grub.
He stepped forward.
Starving man entering a buffet.
Approached servers with trays.
But then.
An utterly unexpected line halted him cold.
“The banquet will continue until the moon sets.”
*‘Huh?’*
A mundane line from somewhere.
Zero suspicious vibe.
But hearing it, Lloyd felt doused in ice water.
Swallowed dryly without thinking.
Simple reason.
*‘Why that line now?’*
Suddenly, plot from the novel *Iron-Blooded Knight* flashed.
Two and a half years from now.
Disaster hits the capital.
The Queen assassination attempt.
That day, the culprits who poisoned Queen Alicia and took her arm—they’d used a code.
Utterly mundane line.
Zero suspicious vibe.
*‘It was exactly: “The banquet will continue until the moon sets.”*
Shouldn’t hear it now.
Not for two and a half years.
But he’d heard it.
Lloyd turned toward the voice.
Eyes met Captain of the Guard Sir Cherni, laughing with the steward.
Chills ran down his spine.
In that instant, Lloyd was certain.
The assassination perpetrators, never fully revealed in the novel—he might’ve just found them.