Chapter 9: The Duke’s Youngest Son

Heinzel, having meticulously smoothed out the pillow crumpled from his earlier outburst, asked with a feigned air of composure, “The Duke hasn’t improved, has he?”

“No. If he had woken up overnight, the ducal estate wouldn’t be this quiet.”

“Lyden, or rather, my brother—is there any news of his return?”

“It’s only been half a month, after all. He’ll likely return just when we’ve almost forgotten about him.”

Rosie’s half-resigned tone was so amusing that Heinzel burst into laughter.

Accepting the harsh reality had finally brought a measure of ease, even allowing him to laugh. As he calmly processed the situation and brought his emotions under control, the wild, aimless fury that had raged within his chest slowly began to subside.

When Heinzel, who had been so prickly and sharp he’d seemed almost delirious upon waking, finally displayed a more relaxed demeanor, Rosie visibly relaxed as well. Her attitude towards him became considerably more natural, as if a great weight had been lifted.

“This magic stone is truly fascinating.”

Heinzel repeatedly flicked the lamp on and off, marveling at the light it emitted without any electricity. There were no wires connected to an outlet, nor any batteries housed within.

Instead, the power source was a magic stone, said to be harvested from magical beasts.

“If you lose your memory, do you forget things like that too?” Rosie asked, her face a picture of bewilderment, as if Heinzel’s fascination was the more curious phenomenon.

‘Thinking about it differently, it would be akin to an amnesiac in Korea marveling at a fluorescent light. Surely, even with memory loss, one wouldn’t find a fluorescent light so novel, as if seeing it for the first time. Or perhaps… are there amnesiacs who do?’

“I don’t know,” he admitted. ‘I’ve never lost my memory in the first place. If I had, I would have given a clear answer.’

Despite Heinzel’s rather clumsy answer, Rosie nodded, lost in thought, and simply affirmed, “I suppose so.”

Regardless, the world of the novel, now brought to vivid life, was nothing short of astonishing. It was, after all, merely a run-of-the-mill romance novel, devoid of any particularly unique settings. Yet, to witness and experience it firsthand was an entirely different matter, replete with wonders and novelties at every turn.

It was a world where mages wielded magic, priests channeled divine power through their faith, and magical beasts roamed, harboring precious magic stones. With magic replacing engineering and divine power standing in for medical technology, this place was, remarkably, as free from inconvenience as any modern civilization.

‘Indeed,’ he mused, ‘if the novel were to truthfully depict the inconveniences of using pit toilets, or drawing water from a well, heating it, and filling a tub for every bath, the romantic atmosphere would surely be shattered.’

“If you were to consult the books, might you not discover more about the things that pique your curiosity, young master?” she suggested. “Duke Defensio’s study is so brimming with books it could easily be called a library. It’s also… where the young master spent most of his time before he fell ill.”

‘It sounded as though he had simply holed himself up in the study, reading books, because there was no one else to socialize with,’ Heinzel thought. He had, after all, woken from a coma after five days, yet no one save the Duchess and Vant had come to check on his well-being, which seemed to confirm his suspicion.

“Half a month feels like ample rest,” Heinzel declared. “How about I venture out and explore a bit? I haven’t moved much, and I feel as though my body is rusting.”

At Heinzel’s declaration of wanting to leave the confines of the bedroom, a flicker of tension registered in Rosie’s eyes. Puzzled, Heinzel tilted his head, unable to comprehend why Rosie was so nervous when he was the one embarking on this exploration of an unfamiliar place.

“Then you must first put on your attire, young master. And…”

“And?”

“If you have no particular business, do not speak to others. Should you require anything, simply tell me quietly. If you display a changed demeanor after waking, those unaware of the circumstances might spread rumors, so it would be wise to exercise caution.”

‘It’s human nature,’ Heinzel mused, ‘that even with just two people gathered, one can never predict what rumors might be spun and spread.’ While he found her concern a touch excessive, he knew it stemmed from a genuine worry for him, and so he nodded obediently.

Rummaging through the wardrobe, Rosie proceeded to layer three or four garments onto Heinzel’s body. ‘I’m merely planning to walk around a bit,’ he thought, ‘do I truly need to dress up this elaborately?’ Only after he was so thickly bundled that his arms floated slightly in the air did Rosie finally withdraw her hands, a look of satisfaction gracing her features.

“For now, please do go out,” she said. “In truth, you’ve seemed confined to your bedroom for too long, and I was just about to suggest you venture outside.”

This marked his first venture outside the bedroom since his visit to the Duchess on the second day of his awakening.

‘How grand could the home of a Duke, the highest of the five peerage ranks, truly be?’ Heinzel, familiar only with modern houses and apartments, knew absolutely nothing about medieval Western residences, so he felt a slight anticipation.

This wasn’t an expectation for historical accuracy, of course, as his Noona’s novels rarely delved deep into research. Rather, it was an anticipation of how vast and immense the Duke’s mansion would be, a pure testament to his Noona’s boundless imagination.

“Would you care to see the study first, young master? It’s where you often spent your time.”

“No, I intend to go outside the building,” Heinzel replied. “I want to see just how vast this house truly is.”

“Then put on your cloak.”

‘The clothes I’m wearing now seem more than enough for a mid-winter mountain hike,’ Heinzel thought. Nevertheless, Rosie produced a massive, fur-lined cloak and settled it with a weighty thud onto his shoulders. For a fleeting moment, Heinzel’s knees buckled under the sudden burden, as if he’d been saddled with a sack of rice.

He was suddenly reminded of the wool coat his mother had bought him as a university entrance gift. He had carefully saved it, intending to wear it for special outings, but in the end, he had never once put it on. If only he had that coat now, he wouldn’t have to endure this crushing weight, like carrying a sack of rice.

‘I’ll never understand the appeal for those who wear fur coats,’ Heinzel thought, shaking his head in resolute disbelief.

“Let’s go out now, young master.”

Rosie, having settled the ponderous, sack-like cloak onto Heinzel’s shoulders, opened the bedroom door with a look of utter satisfaction.

Sweat beaded on Heinzel’s forehead; each step felt as arduous as a session of weight training. He made a new, rather uncomfortable discovery: perhaps the true effect of a fur coat wasn’t insulation at all, but rather to induce profuse sweating and make one feel suffocatingly hot.

“Outside. Quickly, outside…” Heinzel gasped, feeling breathless and desperate for a breath of fresh air. He urged Rosie to hasten their departure.

This outdoor excursion was an attempt to confirm the ducal mansion’s scale with his own eyes, but he could roughly guess its size even before stepping outside. Heinzel grew increasingly tired as the entrance never appeared, no matter how much they walked. They walked the corridors, descended stairs, and walked again, feeling as though he was traversing a passage with no exit.

“How much further do we have to go?”

“Just one more floor down.”

“…”

A dejected Heinzel glumly let his shoulders slump, trailing behind Rosie. Just as they reached what Rosie had called the final staircase, they encountered a group ascending from below.

Trailing behind a child, inexplicably clad in rich, ostentatious attire, were one man and three women. The child, walking with an arrogant tilt of his head, suddenly spotted Heinzel. His eyes gleamed, and he stopped squarely in the middle of the stairs, as if deliberately blocking their path.

“They said you were on the verge of death, but you look perfectly fine?”

Letting the shrill voice wash over him, Heinzel quietly asked Rosie, who had inexplicably moved behind him, “Who is that?” ‘I could roughly guess without asking,’ he mused, ‘but I needed to confirm whether that child was the Duke’s grandson or the youngest son, rumored to have been born late.’

“That’s Young Master Roquel.”

“The youngest?”

“Yes.”

The child, whose insolent tone and apparent lack of proper upbringing suggested a rather lax home education, was, in fact, the Duke’s youngest son.

“How dare you whisper with a maid when I’m addressing you?” the child spat. “A lowly fellow associating with another of his kind—how perfectly fitting.”

‘When I first met the Duchess, I’d already surmised she wasn’t an easy personality,’ Heinzel thought, ‘but I never imagined her son’s disposition would be quite so atrocious.’ Even if his personality was insolent, he was still the Duchess’s child, making him Heinzel’s brother by the same mother. Heinzel seriously pondered why his manner of speech was so utterly crude.

‘Should I display the dignity of an elder brother here?’

‘Even if we shared the same mother, Roquel was the Duke’s youngest son. As for Heinzel’s father… he didn’t know who he was, but he certainly wouldn’t be higher in standing than the Duke. Moreover, within this household, Heinzel was merely an adopted son, taken in by the Duke’s generous heart, putting him in a less advantageous position than Roquel.’

‘Perhaps it would be better to humbly prostrate myself as the weaker party in this class-based society, rather than asserting the dignity of an elder brother.’ Assuring himself that he was merely demonstrating flexibility and an ability to compromise with reality, Heinzel quietly lowered his gaze.

“Can you not hear me? How dare you ignore my words?”

‘He’s pressing me so hard, I have to answer,’ Heinzel thought. ‘But should I answer informally, like a close brother, or use honorifics? Still, I’m not a servant or a maid, and we share the same mother, so do I really need to use honorifics?’ After a brief moment of deliberation, Heinzel wisely decided to use honorifics.

“My health has greatly improved. Thanks to the concern of the young master and the Duchess, I was able to recover like this.”

As he spoke with a gentle smile, Roquel’s face twisted into a harsh scowl.

“How dare you mock me? You lowly wretch, how dare you mock me, the future Duke?”

‘Dream on, youngest son. Lyden will be the Duke.’

Hainzel clicked his tongue in pity, observing Roquel, who was clearly deluding himself, wondering how much the Duchess had filled his head with such baseless hopes. Unaware of Heinzel’s inner thoughts, Roquel inexplicably flew into a rage and started kicking Heinzel’s leg.

The child seemed to have anger management issues. This sort of thing should be treated in childhood. He couldn’t understand why they let the child be like this, especially with Vant as their personal physician.

While Heinzel was momentarily lost in thought, Roquel, who had been venting his anger by kicking Heinzel’s leg to his heart’s content, misstepped and tumbled down the stairs.

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