Chapter 10: The Unjust Summons

“Young Master!”

The women standing behind him shrieked, rushing down after Roquel. They didn’t forget to glare at Heinzel, as if Roquel’s tumble down the stairs was entirely his fault.

Heinzel, who had merely been the target of Roquel’s tantrum, felt a surge of injustice. He stared blankly at Roquel, who had loudly tumbled far below.

He couldn’t understand why they were glaring at ‘him’, the victim, when he had done nothing but passively endure the assault.

He was, in fact, quite impressed by the incompetence of the four adults who, despite standing right behind the child, failed to catch him as he fell.

An inexplicable sense of dread washed over Heinzel, sensing this situation would lead to unfavorable consequences for him.

“This situation seems to be taking an odd turn…”

“…”

At Heinzel’s murmur, Rosie merely sighed softly, as if in lament.

‘No matter how you look at it, this is their fault,’ Heinzel thought. ‘I even swallowed my pride, lowered my gaze to a brother eleven years my junior, replied using honorifics, and simply took the beating. I’ve done nothing wrong.’

Burying his elaborate excuses deep within his heart, Heinzel quietly descended the stairs.

“Is Roquel all right?”

“We will report this incident to the Duchess.”

“…What incident?”

Despite his concern for his younger brother, the woman examining Roquel’s body shrieked, glaring venomously at Heinzel.

When he, dumbfounded, repeated his question, she merely snapped her head away, completely ignoring him.

“Young Master, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“I don’t know!”

Roquel, who had just shrieked, suddenly burst into loud sobs.

The woman examining Roquel’s body rose, ordering the man standing nearby to carry him.

She shot another furious glare at Heinzel, as if to vent her frustration on him, before urging the man and the other women up the stairs.

“No, seriously, what ‘incident’ are they talking about? They just left without answering. Rosie, do ‘you’ know?”

“It likely means they intend to place all the blame on you, Young Master.”

“What did I even do wrong? I endured that brat’s insolent remarks, tolerated his tantrums even after I used honorifics, and meekly took his baseless kicks. And they’re going to report ‘that’?”

Startled by Heinzel’s unfiltered language, Rosie glanced around, her eyes darting nervously. Only after confirming they were alone did a look of relief wash over her face.

“The incident where Young Master Roquel fell down the stairs.”

“He fell because he was throwing a tantrum all by himself. If there’s any fault, wouldn’t it be with those people who couldn’t even catch one child standing right behind him?”

“Exactly. That’s how it sounded to me—that they’re trying to shift the blame onto you, Young Master. The Madam, who dotes on Young Master Roquel, will undoubtedly be furious with you.”

“No, what kind of dog-shit situation is this…”

As Heinzel muttered, letting out a frustrated groan, Rosie, standing beside him, also sighed in unison.

“It was unfortunate you happened to meet him right on the stairs; there was no way to avoid it. I apologize, Young Master.”

“So, this brat’s tantrums towards me aren’t a new thing, are they?”

“…”

Rosie didn’t reply, yet Heinzel could roughly infer the answer even without her words.

“If I run into him like that, is he one hundred percent guaranteed to throw a fit? Or was my reaction earlier not good enough? I was trying so hard to appease him.”

“How did the usual Heinzel—no, how did ‘I’ usually react?”

“The Young Master would usually smile quietly and gently explain to Young Master Roquel that such behavior was inappropriate. That only made Young Master Roquel dislike you more.”

“Whenever you met, he would always find a way to say hurtful things or pick a fight, ensuring you would be scolded by the Madam.”

‘That brat is utterly rotten,’ Heinzel thought.

It seemed being summoned and scolded by the Duchess was a predetermined routine.

“Haa,” Heinzel sighed, looking up at the ceiling, then shook his head slowly.

“I think Young Master was a bit excessive earlier. Using honorifics—Young Master Roquel likely thought he was being mocked, which prompted his kicking.”

‘I went to such lengths, even swallowing my pride to use honorifics, and he perceived it as mockery?’ Heinzel lamented once more. ‘It seems a person’s pure intentions can be so easily misinterpreted.’

“Enough. Let’s just go out and see the sights. I feel stifled.”

‘Perhaps it’s also because I’m wearing too many layers.’

At Heinzel’s urging, Rosie once again took the lead, guiding the way. Just as Heinzel began to wonder if it would take an entire day to leave the house, they arrived at a grand hall.

The door positioned centrally on the opposite wall was large and ornate, unlike any they had passed through before. It looked incredibly heavy.

‘That must be the entrance.’

“Please come this way.”

Rosie opened the front door. Despite its imposing appearance, the large door swung open smoothly.

A gust of wind, entering through the widening gap, brushed against Heinzel’s face.

“Ugh, f*ck!”

The passing breeze was so piercingly cold that Heinzel swore involuntarily.

‘My cheeks feel like they’re about to fall off,’ he thought. Even a slight breeze made his face feel frozen.

The cold wind made his eyes sting, so Heinzel quickly covered them with his palms. Then, his hands immediately felt frozen too.

“What the hell? Is the weather insane?”

“It’s a bit windy, but it’s not actually cold weather. Winter hasn’t even arrived yet.”

Just stepping through one door, the temperature plummeted dramatically. As Heinzel’s feet touched the frozen ground, he finally understood why Rosie had draped him in a fur cloak resembling a rice sack.

“Ah… it was the Duke.”

He belatedly remembered Defensio, ‘the Duke’.

The Duke who lives in the cold North. At this point, Heinzel wondered if an unbreakable curse existed between the Duke and the North.

It was a day that sparked deep contemplation about the connection between the Northern region and its Duke.

****

‘Outside is dangerous. This Duke’s house, in particular, is even more perilous.’

Standing rooted, Heinzel spun around once before meekly retreating back inside the entrance. He vowed never to step outside the building again.

Even now, just thinking about that brief moment he spent outside the entrance, his bones felt chilled to the core. He never imagined he’d experience such a deep, bone-penetrating cold before even turning twenty.

The fact that it wasn’t even winter weather made it all the more alarming.

Forgetting all about house sightseeing, Heinzel returned to his bedroom and burrowed into the bed. He flung off his frozen cloak, pulled the covers over himself, and Rosie handed him a squishy, liquid-filled cushion, which she called a “heat pouch.”

Rosie kindly explained that it was made from the hide of a fire-breathing magical beast, filled with its magic stones and fat.

Hainzel was horrified to learn that this warm, soft, and soothing item, which made him feel as if he could easily drift off to sleep, was made entirely from magical beast byproducts.

However, he quickly compromised with the reality of potentially freezing to death, and his survival instincts transformed the object in his arms into a gigantic hot pack.

‘They really didn’t need to tell me that,’ Heinzel thought. He felt both admiration for humans who could so thoroughly utilize a magical beast and gratitude towards the creature that, even in death, provided such warmth.

“Are you feeling a bit warmer?”

“Ah, no…”

“I’ll bring you a warm drink.”

Leaving Heinzel shivering and deeply buried under the covers, Rosie exited the bedroom. ‘I wish she’d bring something warm and sweet,’ he thought.

Imagining hot chocolate or cocoa, Heinzel kneaded the giant hot pack in his arms.

‘Will my body get warm first, or will this hot pack cool down first?’ While Heinzel pondered the lingering effects of the North’s biting wind, Rosie returned to the bedroom.

She had promised a warm drink, but her hands were empty.

‘Why?’

Under Heinzel’s steady gaze, Rosie opened her mouth with a tone that suggested ‘this was inevitable.’

“Young Master. The Madam is calling for you.”

Whether the little brat had reported him, or the people nearby, Heinzel was mildly impressed by their swiftness.

“She wants me?”

“Yes. Please get up quickly. If you’re late, she might get even angrier.”

‘The perpetrator is her son, and the victim is ‘this’ son,’ Heinzel thought. ‘Why would she be angry with ‘me’?’

Feeling indignant and righteous, Heinzel flung off the covers and climbed out of bed.

“…I’m still cold. Can’t I just go wrapped in the blanket?”

“No, you cannot.”

Rosie snatched the blanket from Heinzel’s hands, which he had so bravely thrown off only to try and pull back over himself. She then hastily helped him change his attire, claiming his clothes had gotten wrinkled.

‘These are clothes I just changed into,’ Heinzel thought. They might have been slightly creased from his brief time in bed, but was there truly a need to change again?

Ignoring Heinzel’s somewhat flimsy excuses, Rosie urged him to change his clothes and then led him out of the bedroom.

“No matter what the Madam says, even if you’re upset, just remain silent. If you talk back, she’ll only get angrier. Just bear with it for a little while, and she’ll send you away.”

“The Young Master before you always endured it well.”

Rosie advised Heinzel with a voice full of regret, as if offering comfort. It seemed this wasn’t a new occurrence, as Rosie’s demeanor while cautioning Heinzel appeared practiced.

Nodding in understanding, Heinzel reluctantly followed Rosie with slow, unwilling steps towards the Duchess.

“You called for me?”

The Duchess, seated with the full skirt of her voluminous dress spread wide, shifted her gaze to Heinzel. Her eyes, looking down from a raised chin, were exceedingly imperious.

“So, you pushed Roquel down the stairs, did you?”

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