KTD Chapter 3 (Part 3)
by BreeLONG CHAPTER AHEAD
But was Jaynie trying to take on more than he’d agreed to?
“Eliminating the servants is easy,” Jaynie said.
“…What?”
“They’re just property, as you said.”
Jaynie had long since given up on expecting any sort of etiquette from Joachim. He was a thief who lacked even the most basic attitude required of a servant. While Jaynie was trying to resolve matters, Joachim was entirely fixated on his own concerns.
Not that Jaynie had taken him in to turn him into a proper attendant anyway. He poured himself a drink, prompting Joachim to finally notice and fill Jaynie’s glass.
Jaynie studied Joachim. What intrigued him was how this vengeful thief could one day transform into a merciful cardinal.
But then again, Jaynie had never fully understood people. Not even Leandro, who had been by his side for so long.
However, he knew Vibil Neade well—at least, how he behaved.
Human behavior, after all, rarely changed.
“Vibil doesn’t trust people easily. He only keeps a select few close to him, people he relies on. Sending servants to burn down a house and kill an illegitimate child isn’t something he’d boast about. He would’ve entrusted that to his most loyal and trusted servants.”
“So, you’re saying…”
“Those servants are likely still in the capital.”
Joachim stared at Jaynie, wide-eyed, his heart pounding so loudly that Jaynie felt he could almost hear it.
“You’re going to send assassins after them? Kill them secretly?”
Was this really the thought process of someone destined to become a cardinal? Suggesting the use of assassins so casually?
Jaynie stifled a sigh.
“Why would I go through the trouble?”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“I just said the servants are in the capital. How do you think they managed to make it here unscathed?”
Vibil had sent the servants to kill Joachim. If they had failed their mission, there was no way they would still be enjoying Vibil’s favor.
‘They must have reported that the job was done.’
Jaynie had known Vibil for a long time. Not out of fondness, but familiarity.
He remembered an incident from years ago when one of Vibil’s most trusted servants lied to him about something trivial. Jaynie knew exactly how Vibil had dealt with that servant.
* * *
Vibil Neade arrived at the capital’s ducal mansion with his entourage.
The group was unremarkable—his lieutenant, who also served as his bodyguard, a coachman, and several servants.
“Are you sure this is wise? If Lord Blurwin has any ulterior motives…,” the lieutenant began cautiously.
“He’s not the type,” Vibil replied dismissively. Even if Jaynie tried something, Vibil was confident he could handle it. Every person he brought with him was large, strong, and skilled in physical combat. He had no use for weaklings.
As a member of the Blurwin collateral branch, Vibil had always believed that a person’s place in life was predetermined.
His position was clear—he was the heir to the Neade family. His siblings either had mothers of low status or were much younger than him, leaving him as the unchallenged successor.
Vibil was smart enough to know he didn’t need to try harder to secure his position. He indulged his passions and enjoyed life to the fullest.
That is, until he received startling news from the ducal family: Jaynie Blurwin was a Beta.
It wasn’t uncommon for noble children to manifest their secondary traits later than others. The collateral families of Blurwin had assumed Jaynie was simply a late bloomer. But this was not the case.
Jaynie wasn’t a carrier of any traits and had no chance of manifesting them in the future.
Young, intelligent, and healthy, yes—but the Blurwin Duke needed an heir.
And that heir was Vibil Neade. The Neade family was the most influential branch of the Blurwin collateral line.
Vibil realized his rightful place wasn’t as the head of Neade. His destiny was to become the ruler of the vast Blurwin duchy.
He abandoned his once passionate and carefree lifestyle, married, fathered children, and dedicated himself to expanding his influence through diligent participation in social circles.
But Jaynie Blurwin wasn’t someone who knew his place. He never said the words Vibil wanted to hear:
“Father, as a Beta, I am an unworthy son. You should pass your title to Vibil Neade.”
Jaynie never uttered such a thing.
The duke, despite not remarrying after the Grand Princess’s death, was still relatively young. The elder council held onto the hope that he might produce another heir.
“If only he’d been an Omega,” Vibil muttered, clicking his tongue.
Jaynie’s delicate, ethereal beauty was the kind often associated with Omegas. The collateral branches had always assumed that, if nothing else, he might manifest as an Omega.
If that had been the case, Vibil could have married Jaynie himself. The issue of Blurwin’s succession would have been resolved neatly.
But now, such a thing was out of the question. Jaynie was incapable of fulfilling the obligations of producing heirs, and even setting that aside, there was another problem.
Vibil Neade was a traditionalist Alpha who expected his Omega spouse to embody propriety and modesty. His mindset was so archaic that it would have been considered outdated even a century ago. He didn’t voice these views openly, knowing how they might be received. But every time he saw Omegas clinging shamelessly to others at parties, he couldn’t suppress his contempt. He couldn’t help but pity the Alphas destined to marry such people.
‘At least, unlike his scandalous mother, he’s managed to keep his chastity intact,’ Vibil thought grudgingly.
Vibil Neade visited the capital’s ducal estate, his entourage consisting of the usual—a lieutenant who doubled as his bodyguard, a coachman, and several servants.
“Do you think this is wise? What if Lord Blurwin has ulterior motives?” the lieutenant asked, his tone cautious.
“He’s not capable of anything too clever,” Vibil replied with a scoff. Even if Jaynie tried something, Vibil was confident he could escape unscathed. Everyone in his entourage was handpicked for their physical prowess, from the towering servants to the burly coachman. Vibil surrounded himself with only the strongest.
As a collateral member of the Blurwin family, Vibil believed firmly that everyone’s position in life was predestined.
His position was clear: heir to the Neade family. His siblings were unfit competitors due to their mothers’ low status or wide age gaps. His succession was secure.
Vibil, knowing he didn’t need to fight for his place, had once indulged in life’s pleasures freely. But that all changed when a fateful piece of news reached him: Jaynie Blurwin was a Beta.
In noble circles, it wasn’t unusual for children to manifest their secondary traits late. The collateral branches of the Blurwin family had assumed Jaynie was simply a late bloomer. But the truth was undeniable—Jaynie would never manifest.
This left the duke without a proper heir, and Vibil knew what that meant: his rightful place wasn’t as head of Neade but as the ruler of the vast Blurwin duchy.
He gave up his carefree lifestyle, married strategically, had children, and worked tirelessly to expand his influence within the social sphere.
But Jaynie Blurwin wasn’t someone who knew when to step aside. He hadn’t once said the words Vibil longed to hear:
“Father, as a Beta, I’m unworthy of the position. You should pass the title to Vibil Neade.”
Instead, Jaynie continued to act as if he were the rightful heir, bolstered by the duke’s refusal to remarry after the Grand Princess’s death. The elder council still clung to the hope that the duke might produce another heir.
“If only he had been an Omega,” Vibil muttered with a click of his tongue.
Jaynie’s delicate, ethereal beauty was something more commonly associated with Omegas. The collateral branches had all but assumed that, if nothing else, Jaynie would manifest as one.
Had that been the case, Vibil would have simply married Jaynie, neatly solving the issue of succession.
But things didn’t turn out that way. Jaynie, as a Beta, was incapable of fulfilling the duties of producing heirs, and even if he could, there was another problem.
Vibil was a traditionalist Alpha who believed in strict propriety. His views were so outdated that they would have been considered archaic even a century ago. Though he didn’t openly voice such opinions, he couldn’t help but feel contempt for the scandalously uninhibited Omegas at social gatherings.
‘At least, unlike his mother, he’s managed to preserve his chastity,’ Vibil thought begrudgingly.
Yet the rumors about Jaynie’s newfound attachment to a “cherished attendant” suggested otherwise. To bring such a companion to a royal ball? It spoke volumes.
“What do you think Lord Blurwin wants from you?” the lieutenant asked.
“We’re not on friendly terms, so I doubt it’s a casual chat. What could he possibly have to say to me?” Vibil replied with a smirk.
“Perhaps he’s ready to give up,” the lieutenant suggested.
“And why would you think that?”
“It’s possible the duke’s favoritism has pushed him to his limits. If he’s under that much pressure, he might have decided to act on his own.”
“It would explain his behavior in the capital,” Vibil mused. “Back when he was more active here, he cared about maintaining his reputation. Now he’s shut himself in his estate, playing around with an attendant. That’s not the behavior of someone who wants to secure his position as heir.”
The lieutenant nodded, convinced. Political intricacies weren’t his strength, and Vibil didn’t hold that against him. He didn’t need a strategist—he needed someone capable of fighting for him.
“Don’t get too comfortable. It’s just speculation,” Vibil added.
Vibil Neade was a knight in name only. His skills were poor, but he relished being addressed as “Sir Neade.” The Blurwin Duke’s title as the Empire’s Shield, the guardian against the monsters of the Kallios Mountains, carried weight, and Vibil enjoyed basking in its reflected glory.
As they entered the estate’s gardens, Vibil remarked, “The grounds are stunning.”
“Thank you,” Jaynie replied politely.
If Jaynie intended to bow to Vibil, there was no reason to antagonize him. For once, Jaynie’s expression lacked its usual barbs, and they entered the dining room in a surprisingly cordial atmosphere.
Inside, Jaynie’s veiled attendant was already seated—a bold display for a servant.
“Your attendant must be very dear to you. Do you always dine together?” Vibil asked.
“Indeed. Isn’t the child lovely? The summer heat has dulled my appetite, but this one insists on dining with me. Such a considerate and caring child,” Jaynie replied, his face unreadable.
Vibil couldn’t tell if Jaynie was serious or mocking him.
“Not just thoughtful, but talented too, I assume. Eating while wearing a veil must require extraordinary skill,” Vibil remarked dryly.
“A guest deserves proper courtesy. The veil will be removed during the meal. Please don’t stare too much—it would make me uncomfortable,” Jaynie replied.
Vibil internally scoffed.
‘He’s completely smitten.’
When the servants brought out the dishes, the attendant removed his veil.
Naturally, Vibil’s eyes flicked toward him—only to snap away immediately.
Staring intently at his plate, Vibil clenched his teeth.
‘That bastard is alive.’
The illegitimate child hadn’t died. His servants had lied.
If that boy continued to live, he would become a significant problem for Vibil. His political marriage was the foundation of his claim to the Blurwin duchy.
Vibil’s wife came from an ancient noble lineage that traced back to the imperial family. This connection bolstered his position as a contender for the dukedom. Their marriage contract, however, included a strict clause: neither party was allowed to father or bear illegitimate children.
If the child’s existence were exposed, it would jeopardize the union between their houses.
Vibil forced himself to smile. Jaynie’s tone, his invitation, and the veiled attendant—it all made sense now.
Jaynie hadn’t invited him to mend ties. This was a display of power—a declaration that he held Vibil’s weakness in his hands.
There was only one solution.
‘That illegitimate child must die.’
And before that, Vibil would deal with the traitorous servants who had disobeyed his orders.
* * *
A few days after the dinner with Vibil, several large crates were discreetly removed from his estate.
Upon hearing the news, Jaynie turned to Joachim and said, “I’ll send someone with you. Go take a look.”
Joachim was accompanied by a knight and several servants as he made his way to the riverside. The area reeked, a neighborhood inhabited by the impoverished and powerless. The further downstream they traveled, the stronger and more putrid the stench became.
At the riverbank, Joachim found the bodies. They were not buried but left discarded in the open.
The men who had once terrified him that night now lay lifeless, their bloodied and dirtied faces frozen in death, their vacant eyes staring upward. Flies swarmed over them, and Joachim stood silently, staring at the gruesome sight.
Returning to the estate, he asked Jaynie, “Did you know this would happen?”
“Yes,” Jaynie replied without even glancing up.
Joachim didn’t look away, studying Jaynie’s indifferent expression. The future cardinal couldn’t tell what emotions Jaynie might have felt—if any at all—but he sensed Jaynie was genuinely curious about something.
“And? How does it feel to have your revenge?” Jaynie asked, finally looking up from the document he had been reading. It was filled with equations that Joachim couldn’t make sense of, but he could tell Jaynie was genuinely awaiting his answer.
What is he curious about? Joachim wondered.
“It feels… hollow.”
These men, who had stolen his family from him, had now been discarded as corpses by their master for failing to kill him.
Was this what vengeance looked like?
Joachim didn’t feel any sense of satisfaction.
He fell silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.
Jaynie, however, was displeased. Joachim had avenged his parents—at least partially. The ones who had directly killed them had been punished. The servants had suffered fates akin to what they had inflicted on his family. While they hadn’t been burned alive, justice had been served.
Jaynie thought of Leandro. He intended to make those who wronged Leandro suffer the same way Leandro had. But what if it ended like this—with the same emptiness Joachim was now feeling?
Jaynie spoke firmly, giving Joachim direction.
“You should be glad. The people who killed your parents were dealt with by your enemy’s hand. That’s poetic justice.”
Joachim gave a hollow laugh.
“Ha.”
It was unclear if the sound was meant to mock himself, Jaynie, or perhaps both.
Jaynie couldn’t believe his ears—Joachim was laughing.
‘Has he gone mad?’
“That just proves it. There really is no God in this world,” Joachim muttered, his gaze fixed on the floor of the carriage.
A chill ran down Jaynie’s spine.
“The servants… they were just following orders. They didn’t kill my parents of their own will. I know that. But knowing doesn’t make me forgive them. I’m glad they’re dead. Guess I’m not a good person, huh?”
“…”
“But the one who killed them wasn’t really them, was it? It was my true enemy, wasn’t it? That guy’s the real villain, right? But if he killed the servants, then… was it really him?”
“It was,” Jaynie said flatly.
Joachim shook his head.
“No, it wasn’t. What are you saying? It was you. You’re not a good person either, are you? God may not have mercy, but He seems to answer the prayers of people who treat human lives like bugs. My parents were good people, and they died.”
Joachim clenched his fists and slammed them against his thighs.
“They were devout, kind people. They took in a suspicious, abandoned baby with nothing but a swaddle, and they raised me as their own, despite how little they had!”
“Stop blaspheming,” Jaynie warned.
Joachim gave a hollow laugh.
“There’s no God. I’m sure of it now. How am I supposed to enter the temple? Me, a priest? Praying to God? I can’t fulfill this deal. I can’t keep my end of the bargain. You got the short end of this deal.”
“Shut up,” Jaynie said threateningly, his pulse quickening.
But Joachim didn’t stop.
“Even if you kill that man, I can’t give you what you want. I knew it from the start. Didn’t you? Why did you even make this pact? Did you not realize you were being swindled? You’re not that stupid. You should’ve just killed me instead.”
Too late.
The arcane markings of the pact began to glow around Joachim’s neck, tightening with a mystical force. The moment the words of “pact-breaking” were completed, he would die.
But Joachim, consumed by his rage, hadn’t even noticed.
‘Damn it….’
Jaynie had felt uneasy about this pact from the start. How could this reckless, vengeful boy ever become a cardinal?
He hadn’t worried much because he believed Joachim was destined to become a cardinal.
But now, something had gone terribly wrong.
Jaynie pressed his fingers against his temples, the pain in his head growing unbearable. His vision blurred, and his temples throbbed as if someone were squeezing his skull.
But he couldn’t lose control. His nails dug into his palms, grounding him in the pain and helping him stay focused.
“Pull yourself together, Joachim. Don’t be stupid. Whether you can fulfill the conditions or not doesn’t matter right now. Saying that now is reckless. Finish your revenge first, then talk. Keep your mouth shut…. Did you stake your life just to kill a few servants?”
“Why do you even care about my life? Wouldn’t it be better for you if I died? Oh, maybe you’re annoyed that you did all that work for nothing. Sure, you’d lose out a bit. But who lives their life without any losses?” Joachim sneered.
Jaynie forced his voice to remain calm.
“Don’t throw it all away. Finish your revenge. Your enemy is still out there.”
“I can’t enter the temple. Me? A priest? It’s impossible,” Joachim finally said, the words that Jaynie had feared slipping out.
Jaynie shut his eyes tightly as blood splattered across his face.
When he opened them, Joachim’s face was a gruesome sight—blood pouring from every orifice.
Without thinking, Jaynie shouted, “Heal yourself, Joachim! Don’t die! Are you going to waste the life your parents saved?”
If Joachim died, Leandro would follow.
The next moment, everything happened too quickly for Jaynie to comprehend.
The room filled with light, a warmth enveloping him as though he were submerged in water. The oppressive sounds of the world faded, replaced by an ethereal stillness.
For a brief time, even Jaynie’s pounding headache ceased to exist.
When the light dimmed, Joachim lay there, his bleeding stopped. He coughed violently, spitting out clotted blood.
But the mystical force of the pact hadn’t fully released its grip on his neck. Healing alone wouldn’t save him—no priest, not even the Pope, could sustain such a miracle indefinitely.
Joachim had to uphold the pact.
“Honor the pact, Joachim. Swear to become a priest,” Jaynie urged.
“Yes,” Joachim rasped, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth.
Jaynie noticed that a faint glow still lingered in the room. The divine power hadn’t entirely dissipated, but it was receding.
When the light finally vanished, the arcane force relinquished its hold on Joachim.
Only the evidence of the ordeal remained—bloodied, exhausted, and trembling, Joachim stared at Jaynie, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“How…”
Joachim’s voice trailed off, his expression one of complete bewilderment. He had no idea how he had wielded divine power.
Jaynie didn’t care.
With the last of his strength, Jaynie grabbed Joachim by the collar.
“If you ever talk about breaking the pact again, I’ll kill you myself before the magic has a chance to,” Jaynie hissed.
Joachim, still in shock, didn’t respond.
A scream came from behind them. One of the servants, drawn by Jaynie’s shouting, had entered the room and was now shrieking at the sight of the bloodied Joachim and the chaotic aftermath.
Jaynie sighed, utterly drained.
“Clean this up and get him washed,” he ordered, collapsing into his chair.
One problem had been dealt with.
The pact’s magic was indeed formidable—a powerful tool whose cost was life itself. If simple healing could counteract it, no one would trust such contracts.
But Joachim had delayed its execution, however briefly.
Though it hadn’t been as dramatic as the miracles Joachim would one day perform, it was still a divine act.
Without training or experience, Joachim had invoked divine power to save his own life.
Anyone capable of such a feat was destined to become a high-ranking priest.
In Jaynie’s study, Joachim had performed a miracle.
He would become the cardinal.
Jaynie had secured the cleric for his hero’s party.
* * *
The priest from the Mawin temple, having been hosted at the ducal estate for over two weeks, finally boarded the carriage to depart.
Mawin was not a wealthy, grand temple of a major city. The priest, who had been raised in such modest surroundings, found the splendor of the capital and the intricacies of noble households utterly foreign.
He had no idea why the “child under the Duke’s patronage” had taken so long to appear, nor why he was being so generously hosted. All he could take with him was the impression that the young lord of the ducal family was extraordinarily benevolent.
“Please take care of him,” Jaynie said as the carriage prepared to leave.
“Of course. He seems like a clever, devout child just from looking at him. Don’t worry, I’ll help him adjust to the temple,” the priest replied, reassured.
Jaynie watched the carriage roll away. At the window, Joachim, now dressed in the plain robes of an acolyte, smiled angelically and waved. His appearance was as radiant as a cherub, and the humble priestly garb suited him remarkably well.
He would adapt quickly—Jaynie had no doubt about that. With Joachim’s personality, it was hard to imagine him failing to charm his way into any situation once he set his mind to it.
Still, their final conversation before Joachim left had been troubling.
Just before departing, Joachim had given Jaynie his signature mischievous smile.
“By the way, Lord Jaynie, I don’t believe in God,” Joachim said. “Isn’t it strange that He would lend me His power? Do people just stay quiet about stuff like this so they don’t get their heads chopped off for heresy?”
“There’s probably a good reason people keep their mouths shut. You might want to try it sometime,” Jaynie retorted dryly.
“I’m always quiet,” Joachim replied with mock innocence.
Jaynie didn’t dignify that with a response.
“What were you thinking about when you used divine power?”
“Hmm.” Joachim tilted his head thoughtfully.
“That I didn’t want to die,” he said finally, stroking his chin.
“Really, I just didn’t want to die.”
A surge of desperation, strong enough to invoke divine intervention.
It sounded eerily similar to magic in its essence. But magic wasn’t tied to belief in an omnipotent being.
Jaynie had long found it strange that priests, even the most money-hungry ones, could wield divine power so effortlessly.
Perhaps the two forces weren’t so different—maybe divine power was just another branch of magic.
Jaynie quickly dismissed the thought. Such speculation, if discovered, would make people like Vibil or the Church ecstatic. In the Empire, life was much easier if one was seen as a devout believer.
“Do you really think I can become a priest, even like this?” Joachim asked.
“Yes.”
Jaynie thought for a moment before adding, “You’ll become a cardinal.”
“Wow, amazing. Of course I will,” Joachim replied with mock enthusiasm.
“Try to behave like it,” Jaynie said pointedly.
“Ha. I’ll be good. Really, I will.”
“What’s good?”
“That you want me to rise high. You need a high-ranking priest, right? Fine, I’ll work hard, do my best, and climb the ranks. I don’t want to die either, after all.”
Jaynie didn’t bother to correct him. Not just a high-ranking priest, you’ll become the cardinal. There was no need to kick Joachim on his way out.
As the carriage prepared to leave, Joachim turned back to Jaynie with a cheeky grin.
“Make sure you catch that relative of yours soon. And ease up on the drinking, would you? I know you drink to sleep, but even a little every day leads to addiction. Do you know how many homeless people die from alcoholism? You need to stay healthy—we’re in this together, after all.”
“Watch your tongue. Unless you want to be strung up and kicked out of the temple,” Jaynie warned.
“With you as my patron, who’d dare touch me? Even you didn’t kill me. You’re a strange noble, you know that?”
Jaynie refrained from pointing out that Joachim would have been long dead if he weren’t so crucial.
As the carriage rolled away, Joachim waved from the window, heading toward the temple. Jaynie watched until it disappeared from sight, then turned back toward the estate.
* * *
Jaynie stood before the magic communication orb. Light filled the crystal sphere, and soon the image of a tall, lean man materialized within it.
It was the Duke of Blurwin.
“Father,” Jaynie greeted.
“You seem to have arrived safely in the capital,” the Duke observed, looking him over. “How is His Majesty?”
Jaynie stared at the Duke’s face, which he hadn’t seen in years. Their relationship had never been particularly affectionate. To the Duke, Jaynie was merely the product of a strategic marriage meant to solidify the family’s influence—just as it was with all nobles.
Still, seeing his father stirred something unexpected in him. There was a time when Jaynie had lived solely to meet the Duke’s expectations.
“The Emperor seemed the same as always,” Jaynie replied evenly.
“The man never changes,” the Duke remarked with thinly veiled disapproval.
Jaynie knew his father harbored no love for the Emperor.
“What of the First and Second Princes?”
“They are well.”
“They still think highly of you?”
“Three years is a long time to be apart. It’s unrealistic to expect things to remain the same.”
“It’s not as if a duke’s heir can stay away from the duchy forever,” the Duke said. “You should make an effort to maintain those relationships.”
“I am doing my best.”
Jaynie answered obediently. Despite his distaste for the capital, the Duke had allowed Jaynie to flee there to avoid his late mother, the Grand Princess. Jaynie had later realized it was to foster closer ties with the two princes.
“The Emperor’s health is reportedly poor. I hear even here that the First Prince has taken on more than half of His Majesty’s duties. In the end, it’s the Emperor who bestows titles, but who knows how long he’ll remain in that position?”
Jaynie bit back a retort. He knew better than anyone that the Emperor would likely outlive him, even if the throne was officially promised to Leandro.
“It would be wise for you to support the First Prince wholeheartedly. He’s always been fond of you.”
It was clear what the Duke was implying. If the Emperor were to pass suddenly and the First Prince ascended the throne, Jaynie’s position as heir to the dukedom would depend on the strength of their relationship.
‘This is exactly how he’s always been,’ Jaynie thought grimly.
The Duke hadn’t asked about Jaynie’s wellbeing once during their conversation. It was all strategy and politics.
Jaynie hadn’t heard his father’s voice in years, not since the Duke had isolated himself following his injury. No one had been allowed to visit—not even Jaynie.
He pushed the irrelevant thoughts aside.
Appealing for the Emperor’s blessing to inherit the title was a family matter. However, no heir lacking his family’s full support could dare petition the Emperor—it would only spark civil unrest.
Jaynie wondered if the Duke had forgotten this simple truth.
Of course, he hadn’t. If he had, he wouldn’t have bothered to summon Jaynie at all.
“I hear Vibil Neade supports you?” the Duke said abruptly, cutting to the chase. He must have already heard about Jaynie’s dinner with Vibil, though his assumption was overly optimistic.
“That’s highly unlikely,” Jaynie replied.
“But you invited him, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And why would you do such a thing? Don’t tell me you’re entertaining those rumors about you acknowledging and honoring him!”
The Duke’s voice was tinged with exasperation.
The Duke of Blurwin had been born the only legitimate son of the previous duke and an Alpha at that, inheriting the title without any opposition. Though he wasn’t an exceptional knight, the knights swore unwavering loyalty to him, as did his vassals.
Having been born with everything, the Duke believed his son Jaynie should naturally follow the same path. Jaynie was expected to grow into a duke who commanded absolute authority and united all under his banner.
The fact that Jaynie had failed to meet those expectations was something the Duke simply couldn’t comprehend.
Jaynie, however, had once wanted to follow his father’s will. The Grand Princess may have abandoned him, but the Duke hadn’t.
In his own way, the Duke had expectations of Jaynie and paid him attention. Jaynie had convinced himself that this was affection. He believed he needed to become a noble like his father—one who fulfilled his duties.
And as the Duke’s legitimate heir, it was Jaynie’s duty to become the next Duke. Recognition as the heir was non-negotiable.
Even if his father’s drunken habit of mistaking him for the Grand Princess when intoxicated was infuriating.
Before his injury at the hands of Berner and subsequent seclusion, the Duke had been a model noble, always fulfilling his responsibilities.
Though he had an infuriatingly aristocratic tendency to see every situation in a light favorable to himself.
“Are you making efforts to earn loyalty?” the Duke asked.
“I have been. That’s why I invited him,” Jaynie replied.
“‘That’s why,’ you say?”
“Yes. It’s still difficult to deal with him in social settings.”
Jaynie answered respectfully. Before his disappointment in his father had solidified, Jaynie had yearned for his approval. Perhaps there had even been a time when he respected the Duke.
The Duke pushed back his disheveled hair, gazing at Jaynie with a faint frown.
Jaynie saw a flicker of something complex in his father’s expression. He knew the Duke often felt conflicted about how to treat his son, who bore such a strong resemblance to the Grand Princess.
Finally, the Duke sighed as if resigning himself.
“You have a tendency to keep only those who speak favorably to you close by. Vibil Neade is wealthy and well-regarded. He would be useful as one of your subordinates. Continue your efforts to win him over.”
“I’ll try. I plan to stay in the capital and work on it,” Jaynie said.
He didn’t mention that he had deliberately provoked Vibil, nor that Vibil was likely more cautious of him than ever.
“Well, you look healthy. That’s good to see,” the Duke finally said, offering Jaynie a rare comment that wasn’t purely strategic.
“You too, Father,” Jaynie replied.
The light of the communication orb faded as the Duke’s image vanished.
Now, Jaynie had a reason to remain in the capital. He had bought more time to nurture Leandro’s growth.
Vibil Neade had been Jaynie’s enemy until the day he died. Even when Jaynie had swallowed his pride and reached out, Vibil had done nothing but scorn him, refusing even the pretense of acknowledging his efforts.
In Vibil’s mind, the position of Duke was already his, and Jaynie was an unworthy claimant.
But for now, it didn’t matter if Jaynie and Vibil’s relationship soured further. Though Vibil was the closest collateral member to the heir’s seat, he had yet to rally the support of the other branches.
It would take five more years before Vibil made a serious attempt to oust Jaynie.
By then, Leandro would be the Empire’s greatest knight. Jaynie already knew of the event that would bring Leandro immense fame and glory in five years—a moment that would become a pivotal topic in the succession conflict.
And with Leandro by his side, Jaynie wouldn’t lose that conflict.
Not that Jaynie had any intention of waiting five years to resolve it.