The Beloved Bastard (2)
“Take a seat.”
“….”
“Nox.”
“Ah, yes. My lord! Forgive me. I was so nervous that…”
“It’s fine. Sit down.”
I took a seat as the Count of Rubrum instructed.
With his short hair and the rough, bristly beard that always made him look like a battle-hardened soldier, Balak Rubrum sat across from me.
Did that old man actually put his wives in their place?
No, that wasn’t it. As a count who had fathered a bastard through an affair, Balak Rubrum had lived almost entirely under his wives’ thumbs.
“As you all know, this is still our first official gathering, so I’ll keep the introductions brief. This is… Nox.”
“A pleasure to meet you all!”
I decided to set my thoughts aside for later and simply play along with the count’s lead for now.
“The lady seated across from me must be Lady Jane, and the one to my right, Lady Fran.”
“Correct. Did Susan tell you that?”
“No, my lord. I simply guessed. The first lady radiates such refined dignity, while the second lady possesses a gentle charm. Ah! If I’m wrong, please forgive me!”
Just as I had done every previous time, I flattened myself into the most humble posture and heaped praise on both wives.
Until now, that approach had always drawn some reaction. This time, there was only silence.
An awkward, almost embarrassing silence.
“Hm.”
The Count of Rubrum, on the other hand, looked as satisfied as ever. For a ten-year-old who had spent his life locked in a back room, my eloquence must have sounded remarkably polished.
“Did Susan happen to explain what a tenth birthday means?”
“I heard the general idea.”
“Then I won’t waste words. Today, in this very room, I will decide whether to grant you the Rubrum name.”
“As I expected.”
Most noble bastards never received a family name. With legitimate wives watching with hawk-like eyes, no one was about to invite an illegitimate child into the succession race.
But this man always dropped the bombshell right here.
“To put it simply: as Count of Rubrum, I intend to grant you the Rubrum name.”
“I-Is that truly so?”
The first wife’s reaction felt a little off, but up to this point everything had followed the usual script. I prepared to spring up from my seat like a coiled spring and feign shock—
“W-Wow! Th-That’s wonderful news! Nox!”
Jane’s palms clapped together in an awkward, forced applause.
A chill raced straight down my spine.
This… should never have happened.
“Th-Th-Thank… you.”
Across ninety-four regressions I had met every kind of person. If I had to name one lunatic who could rival the Demon King himself, her face appeared instantly.
Jane Rubrum had a single goal: one of her sons must become the heir. It was a petty ambition, really, yet she would do anything—literally anything—to achieve it.
Strangling the bastard’s birth mother. Poisoning the third daughter who stood in a relatively weak position in the succession. She never so much as blinked. Once, when both her sons died in an accident, she locked every servant of the count’s household inside and set the place on fire. The image of that madwoman burning alive amid the ashes of House Rubrum was still burned into my memory.
And now that same Jane Rubrum—whose entire philosophy boiled down to “If I can’t have it, I’ll destroy it”—was clapping for the bastard who had just been invited into the succession race?
Of course my skin crawled.
I wanted to put a blade to her throat right then and force the truth out of her, but this absurd situation demanded a little more observation.
“Oh my, how lovely. Nox… or should I call you Nox Rubrum now?”
The second wife seated beside me, Fran Rubrum, also welcomed me. She was cracked in the head too.
Not quite on Jane’s level, but Fran was a hardcore classist who treated commoners as disposable tools rather than people. Outwardly, though, she looked as if she were sincerely celebrating my good fortune.
“Ah… thank you.”
Shock and confusion kept slamming into me one after another.
“I apologize for not informing my wives in advance. But I have wanted, for a very long time, to accept Nox as a full member of House Rubrum.”
The count’s unilateral announcement of such a major decision felt almost like a child’s game.
“I-I’m fine with it.”
“Our Nox must have felt so left out all these years. We’ll just pretend it never happened.”
I’m fine with it? We’ll pretend it never happened?
Oh, for heaven’s sake. Tomorrow the sun really might rise in the west.
“Hm.”
Whether he failed to sense the strangeness or was simply too dense to notice, the Count of Rubrum merely nodded in contentment.
“You must have been surprised and unsettled, yet you understood. I am grateful. And you, Nox Rubrum.”
“Ah, yes.”
“From now on you will attend breakfast every morning. I did not summon your siblings today, but starting tomorrow they will join us as well.”
“Understood. I will do my best to get along with my older brothers and sister.”
“Your daily life will change as well. Now that you are Nox Rubrum, you must cultivate the refinement and culture befitting the name.”
In other words: study hard.
“I will do everything in my power not to bring shame upon the family.”
“A fine attitude. I have already informed the head maid of your duties. From now on she will attend you in Susan’s place.”
At least the broad framework the count was driving remained on the original track. For now I would simply ride the current.
“Um… Father.”
“…Speak.”
“Would it be possible to keep Susan as my personal maid?”
“I know you are close to her, but that may be difficult.”
“I need Susan. If you grant me this, I will ask for nothing else.”
Because the head maid was an absolute stickler. Susan, who always caved to my requests no matter how reluctantly, was far more convenient—especially if I wanted to freeload.
“Hmm…”
“I understand your concern. You’re worried I won’t properly learn noble conduct. I will prove myself with results.”
“If you insist that strongly, how can a father refuse? Very well. Do as you wish.”
“Thank you.”
By this point even I was starting to doubt myself. Maybe the worldline hadn’t shifted after all. Once I thought that, the wives’ strange behavior became a little more understandable. Maybe they were simply having an off day, or maybe they were hatching some new scheme I had never witnessed before. I had only lived through ninety-four regressions; I hadn’t seen every possible branch.
With those thoughts circling, I continued the meal at a leisurely pace. The food the count’s family ate was undeniably excellent—tender meat, fresh vegetables.
I was eating with single-minded focus when—
“Ah, that’s right!”
The first wife spoke up. Her face twitched as she forced the words out.
“C-Count, shouldn’t we throw a birthday party for our son Nox?”
“Cough—cough!”
Our son? A birthday party? This woman has completely lost it.
“I was already planning something modest.”
“No. Let’s invite guests and make it grand. Honestly, whether Nox received the name or not, I always wanted to give him a proper birthday celebration. I’ve been preparing little by little for some time.”
Whew. This was why you always listened to the end of a person’s sentence.
After hearing Jane out, I felt a wave of relief. This was the classic “Icarus” pattern: elevate me to the heavens in front of distinguished guests, then smash my social standing into the dirt right before their eyes. All the praise and affectionate nicknames at today’s table had been gritted-teeth acting.
No wonder her speech had been so stilted and the corners of her mouth had been trembling.
“Nox, what do you think?”
“When the First Mother wishes to give me a gift, what could I possibly say? I will simply accept it with gratitude.”
In fact, this was perfect. People I normally wouldn’t meet until next year would appear at the birthday party—an enormous boost to my freeloading plans.
“Hm. Then I’ll leave everything to you, my lady.”
“Yes. I’ll throw the finest birthday party imaginable for our Nox.”
“If we’re doing it, we might as well make it magnificent, don’t you think? I’ll invite a few of my own acquaintances as well.”
The two wives, who usually looked ready to tear each other’s throats out, were suddenly in perfect harmony. That settled it. They had temporarily allied to destroy their common enemy—me.
The count smiled warmly at the picture of ideal family harmony.
I smiled inwardly right along with him.
It had all been a misunderstanding. Jane was still Jane, and Fran was still Fran. Both wives remained exactly as they had always been, and every one of their behavioral patterns still fit snugly in the palm of my hand.
If things continued like this, my freeloading plan was guaranteed success.
But that conviction shattered the moment the meal ended.
“You disgusting, lowborn bastard—where do you think you’re walking? I’ll snap your ankles! On your knees, now!”
While I was walking down the corridor, the eldest son appeared out of nowhere and cracked me across the back of the head.