Chapter 7: The First Act of Rebellion

BANG!

Dalton burst through the bedroom door as if he intended to break it off its hinges.

Dalton Grayan.

He was Simon’s guardian and uncle. He was also Simon’s only remaining blood relative, aside from a cousin whose whereabouts were unknown. Dalton had his salt-and-pepper brown hair slicked back stylishly and wore an expensive-looking suit. Tall, broad-shouldered, and stout, he possessed a commanding presence that overwhelmed any room he entered. Despite reaching middle age, his entrance was like a charging tank.

“What is the meaning of this—firing the butler!”

Dalton’s roar made the air in the room vibrate. Simon stood up, bracing himself. He had expected Dalton to be angry, but facing the man in person still sapped his courage.

Simon’s feelings for Dalton were complex. As his only kin, Simon felt a sense of affection for him, and it was true he owed Dalton a great debt. When Simon suddenly inherited everything upon his father’s death, distant relatives and business associates had circled like hyenas. If Dalton hadn’t stepped in to protect him, the family fortune would have been torn apart. Since then, Dalton had managed the estate and businesses under Simon’s delegated authority. While the final legal power remained with Simon, he had never once disobeyed his uncle, allowing Dalton to rule as he pleased.

By entrusting everything to Dalton, Simon bought peace. In exchange, Dalton enjoyed the wealth and prestige he never would have had as a second son. It was a complementary relationship, but far from an equal one.

Dalton’s fiery temper always kept Simon subdued. He pitied Simon’s frailty while simultaneously appearing disgusted by it—a silent judgment that tormented Simon. How could someone as pathetic as me feel uncomfortable around the uncle I should only be grateful to? This duality left Simon riddled with guilt, making him feel infinitely small in Dalton’s presence.

Logically, Dalton couldn’t do anything if Simon truly exerted his will, but personal fear and a crushing sense of obligation had always forced Simon to yield.

“I’m sorry, Uncle. But I really had no choice.”

Simon began to explain the dismissal, emphasizing the butler’s misconduct. He wanted Dalton to understand, but his words came out long and rambling, sounding like a desperate excuse.

“I couldn’t just let him act that way anymore…”

THUD!

Dalton slammed his hand onto the table. Simon winced, his eyes squeezing shut before slowly fluttering open.

“Enough with the excuses! In the end, you just did whatever you wanted, didn’t you?”

“T-that’s…” Simon stammered.

“Do you have any idea what this does to my reputation? I’m the one who recommended him! I’ve told you time and again: if you don’t know how the world works and have no education, you should just stay still!”

“…”

“Are you ignoring me? Or can you just not remember anything? If you had a brain in your head, you wouldn’t act out like this!”

As Dalton’s verbal abuse escalated, Simon’s face turned a deathly pale. He stood paralyzed, his hands shaking. A frantic urge to kneel and beg for forgiveness dominated his mind. Just then, Rut entered the room carrying a tea tray. The atmosphere was clearly not one for refreshments; it was a deliberate move to interrupt Dalton and shield Simon.

Dalton stopped mid-sentence when he saw her.

“Rut? Why is that woman here? Simon?”

“I have been rehired by the Master, Lord Dalton,” Rut replied calmly.

She set down the tea and guided Simon toward the sofa, lightly squeezing his shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort. Simon regained a fraction of his composure. He was still anxious, but the touch reminded him that he wasn’t the one in the wrong. It had always been this way: Rut healing the wounds Dalton inflicted. With her by his side, he felt fortified.

“Is that true, Simon!”

“…Yes, it’s true,” Simon answered, his voice much steadier now.

“Without a single word to me?” Dalton growled. Simon felt his heart shrink, but he didn’t spiral into a panic this time.

“…Yes!”

“Simon!”

“You fired Rut without telling me the truth, Uncle! At least I didn’t lie!”

“Are you actually daring to get angry with me now?”

“…It’s not that.”

“It was for your own sake! Keeping a debtor whose family was bound to cause trouble as a butler would only ruin your reputation, Simon. I drew the sword to protect you!”

Dalton didn’t blink even though his lie had been exposed. His attitude suggested it didn’t matter if Simon knew; he was that shameless. Rut could only marvel at his audacity.

“Even so, you shouldn’t have lied to me. If you had just told me the truth…”

“Why would I bother with something so tedious? You were going to do what I said anyway! No more talk. Kick that woman out again!”

Dalton barked the order. He was annoyed that the usually submissive Simon was actually questioning him. That command, however, acted as a wake-up call for Simon.

That’s right. I never once disobeyed him.

If he told me to do something, I did it. If he told me not to, I didn’t. And the only result was regret. This time, he refused to follow the script. Simon looked at Dalton with a look of pure resolve.

“No.”

“What?”

“No matter what you say, I will not fire Rut.”

Simon spoke clearly, emphasizing every syllable. His clenched fists were trembling slightly, his heart was racing, and his back was slick with sweat. It was the first act of rebellion in his entire life. It wasn’t easy, but he didn’t stop.

“This is my manor, and it is my decision whom I hire. Until now, I only followed your lead because I respected your opinion.”

“Simon!”

“I won’t apologize for firing the butler, either. Honestly, I don’t understand why you’re so angry. What did I do wrong? Wasn’t it your mistake to lie about Rut and bring in such a dishonest person to replace her?”

Even as Dalton continued to fume, the words poured out of Simon.

“In fact, I believe you are the one who should apologize to me.”

“Simon Grayan! Do you even know what you’re saying right now!”

THUD!

Dalton slammed the table again. Carried by his momentum, Simon didn’t back down. He practically shouted back.

“Yes! I know exactly what I’m saying! I’ve been patient enough, and if you have a problem with that, well, that’s just too bad!”

“W-what?”

Dalton’s jaw dropped. Simon was actually defying him. The shock was so profound it felt like his world was collapsing. What kind of child had Simon been? No matter how absurd the request, Simon had never even shown a hint of displeasure. He was quiet, submissive—nearly doll-like. It had been that way since he was a boy, even through his adulthood. Right up until yesterday.

No. There’s no way Simon would do this.

Dalton glared at the butler. “Did that woman tell you to say those things!”

“Rut didn’t say a word. This is entirely my own will.”

“Simon!”

“I know my name, you don’t need to shout it. If you’re finished, please leave. I’m tired and I want to rest.”

Simon issued a direct request for his departure. Dalton stood there, mouth agape like a fish. Not only is he rebelling, but he’s kicking me out? Me, Dalton Grayan? The shock was physical, like a blow to the back of the head. Unable to process the reality of the situation, Dalton chose to retreat.

“I will… go for today. We’ll talk again when you’ve calmed down.”

Dalton practically fled the room. He knew leaving like this meant he had lost to Simon, but he was too bewildered to do anything else. Simon? Rebelling? Even as he left the manor, Dalton felt as though he were moving through a dream.

Once the door clicked shut, Simon let out a long, shuddering breath. He gulped down the tea, which had long since gone cold. Rut looked at him with a face full of guilt.

“I am so sorry, Master Simon. You had to go through that because of me.”

“No,” Simon said, shaking his head.

How could he describe this feeling?

“I feel… relieved.”

He had won against Uncle Dalton! It was a thrill unlike any he had ever tasted. Is this what the life of a rebel feels like? He felt light enough to fly. His shoulders shook with the excitement of victory.

Simon found his wish notebook and opened it. He searched for the wish he had written down, though he’d thought it would be impossible.

~~Say “No” to Uncle Dalton.~~

He drew a long line through the tiny, timid handwriting. Simon shivered with happiness. He had accomplished the wish he thought would be the hardest. Now, he didn’t have to fear whatever his uncle might say. He felt like he could do anything. His confidence was through the roof.

In that case…

Simon looked at the very first line of the notebook. The person who came to mind first when he thought of “wishes.” The wish where he had only written a name, unable to even decide what he wanted to do.

Clint Evan

It felt like the right time to challenge this wish.

The First Wish

The next day.

Simon went out early. Thanks to Rut personally preparing his clothes, he looked quite presentable today. He had wanted to put in more effort, but since he rarely went out, his wardrobe was rather limited. For the first time, he thought about buying some new clothes as he headed toward Clint’s detective agency.

When Simon arrived, Clint stepped out of the office just like the day before.

“Mr. Grayan. You’re back again?”

Clint sounded surprised. Simon focused on making sure his face didn’t turn too red and his lips didn’t curl into a grin. Clint was so handsome that just looking at him made Simon want to smile. To think he could see this face again—returning to the past was truly the best decision he’d ever made.