PT | Chapter 6.3

Aubrey sat in the warm bath for quite a long time. The butler, with a sense of timing, had added body products that helped with fatigue recovery and muscle relaxation, filling the water with a pleasant fragrance and making the temperature just right, which made it incredibly comfortable. After sitting there long enough for his body to fully relax from head to toe, he finally got up and headed back to the attic.

By the time Aubrey was done with his bath, he had felt quite good. But the moment he stepped into the attic, his face immediately stiffened. He made no effort to hide his distaste, and the butler spoke gently to calm him.

“If you stay here quietly for a while, I’m sure the marquis’s anger will subside.”

“But even if my father’s anger subsides, there’s no way I’ll be allowed to go back to the academy.”

“If you attend just half a semester, you’ll graduate, and he’ll probably let you finish… eventually.”

The butler trailed off, clearly uncertain about that.

With just half a semester until graduation, his father would make sure to break his spirit properly. With the whip in hand, it seemed that there was a good chance he wouldn’t be allowed to leave the attic anytime soon, and Aubrey muttered, almost as if throwing the words out.

“I’m hungry. Bring me something.”

“Yes, I’ll tell the kitchen to prepare more of what you like, young master.”

During his time in confinement, his meals had been restricted. The most he was given were dry bread, a few vegetables, and a small portion of meat.

Even though he was the son, he was being treated like a prisoner. If this had been Aubrey’s first time experiencing this, it would have caused a lot of stress, but now he felt numb to it. After all, in the past, there had been times when, during a regression, he couldn’t even get a glass of water.

“Get me a big piece of meat.”

At Aubrey’s request, the butler nodded repeatedly, answering, “Yes, yes,” before leaving to prepare it.

After returning to the attic, Aubrey couldn’t sleep easily, even though the butler had been massaging and applying hot compresses to the area of his neck for quite a while, and the stiffness had improved significantly.

The butler was always kind and considerate toward the young masters of the Marquis’s household. Perhaps because he had worked in the mansion for so long, even someone as difficult as Gray would occasionally listen to the butler, if only once in ten times. Aubrey had once been suspicious of the butler’s excessive kindness. He had thought that no one could be so genuinely caring, willing to go to such lengths.

However, through countless regressions, Aubrey came to understand that the butler was simply fulfilling his role. The Marquis’s estate was a place where he would be depending on until his last day, and the children of the family were precious beings to be carefully nurtured. If he took good care of the young masters and they grew into capable adults, it would be like a trophy for him.

If even the butler had such an attitude, what about his father?

To the Marquis, children were more than just trophies—they were the foundation for his business. He couldn’t afford to treat even one of them carelessly. Whether useful or not, he worked hard to get the maximum value out of each of them.

That was why Marquis Wiidin had sent each of his children to the families he wanted them to marry into, constantly pushing them to have children. In the early days of the regression, Aubrey had blindly followed his father’s wishes. Among the several marriages he had gone through, only one or two had been somewhat pleasant. The rest were so disastrous that he didn’t even want to remember them. To begin with, Aubrey wasn’t in a state to maintain a marriage.

Although he had occasionally shared a bed, he had never had a child. How fortunate that was. If he had gotten someone pregnant, surely the image of that child would have haunted him endlessly, even through all the repeated regressions.

Even after that, Marquis Wiidin had tried to marry Aubrey off to expand his influence, but Aubrey had refused and run away each time. Even if a wedding were arranged, he would refuse to consummate it.

As he avoided and rejected others, he naturally began to reject physical touch altogether. For Aubrey now, the idea of marriage or having any responsibilities was utterly impossible. If he ever had a child of his own, he felt certain he would end his life in that moment.

But even if that was how Aubrey thought, his situation wasn’t exactly following his plans.

As always.

***

Aubrey raised his head and glanced at the closed door, raising an eyebrow.

It was the sixth day of his attic confinement, and he was called down for breakfast with the family.

The leave of absence he had filed when leaving the academy had been for just four days, yet that time had long since passed. Aubrey had always kept his grades in good shape, but now, unexpectedly, it seemed he was about to get some unwanted attention. He let out a deep sigh.

“Then, young master, I will open the door.”

The butler, who had come down with him, spoke cautiously, but Aubrey hardly paid attention.

When the people in this house appeared to be in a bad mood like this, it was better not to repeat the same words. It was usually best to just let it go, assuming they had heard it even if they didn’t answer.

As the butler opened the door, Aubrey stepped into the dining room.

The spacious dining room had the marquis, Johan Wiidin, sitting at the head of the table, along with his three sons, each in their place. Aubrey headed to the empty seat on the right, next to Danvers, and greeted them brightly.

“Good morning, Father, and my brothers.”

At his cheerful greeting, Jill, who was sitting next to Gray, noticeably scowled and pushed his glasses up.

Of the three brothers, Gray resembled their father the most, while Jill took after their mother, the Duchess. With his fine, delicate features, typical of the Wiidin family, Jill was the smallest and most timid of the three. His obsession with alchemy added an air of gloom to his already pale and slender frame.

Unlike Gray, Jill felt uncomfortable around Aubrey. As soon as Aubrey sat down opposite him, Jill scowled and reached for his glass of water—only to start choking.

“Cough, cough, hack…!”

Jill’s loud coughing echoed through the quiet dining room just before the meal began. However, no one at the table paid attention to Jill, who was choking as if he were dying. Still, Jill, clearly flustered by his own coughing fit, stood up, clutching his throat.

“Father, cough cough! Just a moment… I—”

Even in the midst of his struggle, Jill tried to be polite. But the marquis didn’t even glance in his direction, and it was Gray who waved his hand dismissively, as if to tell Jill to get lost. The gesture, as if shooing away a rat, made Jill’s face flush even more. With tears welling up in his eyes, Jill shot Aubrey a glare before leaving the dining room.

Why was he taking his frustration out on me when he was the one choking? Aubrey thought inwardly, but said nothing, maintaining his calm demeanor.

“I thought we were called down to eat, but there’s nothing here. I’m not sure what you want to discuss, but can’t we at least have something to eat first?”

Aubrey played with his knife as he glanced at the marquis.

“I’ve been eating nothing but weeds for the past six days up in the attic, and my stomach feels like it’s stuck to my back, Father.”

“What kind of talk is that in front of your father?”

As the expected rebuke came, Aubrey shot Gray a sidelong glance.

“Well, if you were locked up in the attic like me and didn’t get proper meals, you’d be in the same state.”

Gray curled his lips, giving a mocking smile as if hearing something unworthy of response.

“I’m not like you, so I’ll never end up in that kind of place.”

“Don’t be so confident. You never know.”

At that moment, Gray’s eyes narrowed slightly. Aubrey had thought Gray might snap at him, but instead, Gray tilted his head toward their father.

“Father, look at this attitude. He still doesn’t seem to realize what he’s done wrong. It seems it would have been better to send him to my unit rather than the attic. If he had rolled around with the knights under me for a few days, he might have become more obedient.”

And no doubt, he would have enjoyed seeing me suffer. Aubrey clenched his teeth at the thought of how Gray probably imagined him gasping alone in the attic, likely using the image to satisfy his own twisted fantasies.

Suppressing the revulsion that rose within him, Aubrey forced a smile and turned back to the marquis.