Chapter 17
It’s Just Not Happening
It had been about a month since Liche claimed to have seen a ghost in the library.
Blake and Deon sat facing each other inside the carriage heading towards the imperial capital.
They were on their way to the hunting festival, which was scheduled to take place in two days.
It took around twelve days by carriage from the Rodwick estate to the imperial capital. By tonight, they would arrive in the capital, meaning it had been eight days since the Rodwick patriarch had last seen Liche.
“Liche seems worried,” Blake remarked. Deon, who had his arms crossed and his eyes closed, opened his eyelids slightly.
“She’s just acting,” Deon replied.
The week before, Liche had looked as if her world was falling apart when she heard about the festival attended by prestigious families and nobles with abilities. Since then, she had been pretending to be ill, claiming she might not be able to attend the festival because of her health.
“She’s terrible at acting.”
Recalling Liche’s awkward attempts at coughing, Deon shook his head.
“It’s better not to go. Robenharf will be there too.”
After sending a letter claiming he heard church bells ringing, Robenharf had started sending letters asking if he could visit the Rodwick mansion.
Although the letters claimed he was restraining himself, well, who knew?
Deon had already received over ten crumpled letters.
“That’s true.”
Blake nodded in agreement with Deon’s suggestion not to attend.
He had noticed that Liche was feigning illness, but he pretended to believe her because he didn’t want to force her to go.
The festival, with nobles, skilled individuals, and aristocrats mingling, was bound to attract attention, making Liche the center of attention.
While it was something she would eventually have to face, there was no need for it to happen right away.
“How’s your health these days?”
Suddenly, Deon’s voice reached Blake’s ears.
“My health?”
Blake looked at his son, who was asking about his well-being for the first time in years.
There wasn’t much change in his expression, but the muscles on his face were slightly tensed. It meant Deon was nervous.
It was a question Blake had always wanted to ask but couldn’t bring himself to. It was too heavy a topic for both wealthy men.
Asking about Blake’s health was akin to asking how much longer he had to live.
“I’m fine.”
“… ”
Blake silently patted Deon’s head, who was looking at him without saying a word.
“I’m really okay.”
It wasn’t just empty words he always said to others; he genuinely meant it.
His condition had improved significantly. He was taking medication less frequently due to reduced chest pain, to the point that even his doctor was surprised.
The best he had felt was the morning he left the mansion.
“Dad, can you sleep with me tonight…?”
Was it because Liche had visited his room the night before?
If he said such a thing, Robenharf would probably tease him for being a doting father, but lately, he didn’t feel the need to deny it.
Rather, he felt pleased by it; it made him feel like a doting father after all.
“…Is it because of her?”
Deon muttered softly, prompting Blake to glance at him as if asking for clarification. Deon lowered his head in response.
Given their usual limited conversations as wealthy men, this was quite a lengthy discussion.
The carriage fell into silence after their conversation ceased.
“…Father.”
After a while, Deon suddenly spoke to Blake.
In the distance, the city, encompassing the palace, began to come into view.
“You brought an odd one as a sibling.”
Blake looked at his son, seemingly penetrating his thoughts.
“Do you like her?”
“…Well, she’s better than those who cry and make a fuss out of fear.”
“If only you didn’t mention the assassins, those children wouldn’t have cried either.”
Deon was referring to the aristocratic children he had driven away.
Although Liche had been noisy in the library last time, Deon tried not to dwell on that day.
He ignored the sense of pride he felt when Liche relied on him as her older brother.
“Weakness is to blame.”
Indeed, he thought Liche’s presence had become a nuisance, but Deon was still Deon.
Suddenly, worry flooded Blake’s mind, and he quietly said to Deon,
“Don’t let the aristocrats intimidate you.”
—
Rodwick Ducal Estate.
“…Oh. He’s completely out cold, out cold.”
“The squirrel can’t seem to regain its spirits. The doctor said feeding it ice might help.”
Liche, Zed, and Anna gathered around the table, watching Pythons sprawled across it like a liquid.
[Oh, I’m dying, dying.]
“Are you in a lot of pain?”
[Don’t even talk about it. I never thought the human world was like this. At this rate, I might fall asleep too.]
Although it was an exaggeration to say he might fall asleep since he had contracted with Liche, it was clear that he was struggling in an unsuitable environment.
With no energy to even move his body.
“If you start feeling hot already, it’ll be a big problem by summer. The weather will only get hotter.”
“That’s true…”
Liche replied with a worried voice.
If she remained in the human world like this until summer, what would happen?
She might start melting away like a liquid. She didn’t even know if she should put the changed Pythons in a bottle and carry him around.
“You’re worried, Miss. Cheer up, Peanut.”
[This, this guy is calling me that name again!]
Kyaak.
Pythonus, irked by Zed’s words, emitted a threatening sound and raised his upper body. But soon after, he fell back onto the cushion, pressing himself against it.
“Oh, I’m dying.”
“Zed Traeung, you know Miss Squirrel doesn’t like that kind of talk.”
“It’s cute when he gets all moody. How does he even understand teasing?”
Zed playfully lifted Pythonus’s arm and then let it go. Pythonus’s beard quivered as he helplessly recoiled.
‘This pathetic guy…’
Anna shot a sharp look at her brother, then turned to Liche with a concerned expression, asking her,
“Miss, haven’t you decided on a name for the squirrel yet? You were pondering about it last time.”
“Oh, that’s…,”
Liche raised her head to look at Anna affectionately. Although her smile seemed casual, Liche felt a bit flustered.
[You know, right? My true name shouldn’t be revealed to others.]
Just then, Pythonus, overhearing Anna’s words, whispered into Liche’s mind.
Among the great stars, one effect of mentioning a true name was that the speaker’s location would be exposed to the star bearing that name.
[So, when your name is known, it’s quite troublesome. It feels like shouting, “Hey, I’m over here!” to everyone.]
Pythonus’s reason for not revealing the names of other great stars to Liche was somewhat different but had a similar context.
He didn’t want to disclose their positions to other great stars in the human world.
Liche or herself, revealing their names might expose their locations.
‘Are you still contemplating the squirrel’s name?’
‘How adorable. You did well not to follow the Lord.’
Anna and Zed silently watched Liche, lost in thought, with warm smiles.
But while their minds were at peace, Liche’s mind was extremely busy.
‘What should I say then?’
[Just come up with anything.]
‘It’s your name though.’
[Well, anything will do. Just not Peanut.]
After saying that, Pythonus seemed too tired to talk anymore.
‘Even if you say anything will do…’
How could she just give any name?
Before receiving a name from Blake, she had been excited, recalling those feelings.
Liche thought to herself quietly, so Pythonus couldn’t hear her.
‘I should give him a name that suits a squirrel. His original name is Pythonus, so…’
“Miss, what about just calling him Peanut?”
Suddenly, Zed’s suggestion came in, and Liche quickly shook her head, saying,
“Oh no! It’s Pecan!”
[…That’s too casually decided. Seriously.]
Pythonus murmured weakly, realizing that the name stemmed from the pecan pie they had eaten yesterday.
The Traeung siblings also recognized the origin of the name.
Zed chuckled at the name similar to “Peanut,” and Anna promised to serve Pecan Pie for dessert tonight.
A little while later, Zed and Anna left for their respective tasks, leaving Liche and Pythonus alone in the room.
“Sorry.”
Liche quietly apologized to Pythonus, who was still lying down.
“I should have come up with a cooler name.”
Rather than changing the name, Liche began to list off potential names. After saying about ten names, Pythonus abruptly got up.
“This won’t work!”
“What’s wrong? The names? It doesn’t matter.”
Supporting himself with his two feet as his body swayed, Pythonus spoke to Liche.
“Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“To the Forest of Beasts.”
He couldn’t stand being in the human world any longer.
Pythonus retched as he staggered.
—
In the Roksha Empire, it was customary to hold a hunting festival the day before the founding ceremony.
Only the royal family and the four ducal houses participated. The winner would receive a reward in front of the imperial citizens at the founding ceremony the next day, serving as a display of power.
As fitting its purpose, most of the spectators were high-ranking nobles, and the hunting festival naturally became a place for their camaraderie.
The tents of the attending families were pitched at the edge of the forest where the hunting festival took place. Each tent buzzed with the lively socializing of nobles.
However, amidst all these tents, there was one tent that was quiet despite having its owner present.
“Look over there.”
“Lord Rodwick is alone.”
“It seems he didn’t bring that famous commoner lady with him.”
“I heard he adopted commoners to check the emperor’s power. Lord Rodwick’s reputation isn’t that good either. He’s trying to win favor with the commoners, but it’s useless.”
“The reputation of the assassin family is always bad. Although the current Lord Rodwick said the business ends with him, the legacy built up over generations won’t disappear.”
Nevertheless, it was ironic that all the talk among the bustling tents was about Rodwick.
—
Standing under the shade, Blake sat waiting for the start of the hunting festival, feeling rather bored.
“Shall I go and strike up a conversation while you’re alone?”
“Stop it. Unless you want to accidentally meet someone and end up dead.”
“But you’re still beautiful. They say you’re marked for death. What a waste.”
“It’s ridiculous. Do you think such rumors would spread if it weren’t for the abilities that lengthen one’s lifespan?”
Though Blake remained expressionless, he couldn’t help but hear the surrounding conversation.
From the darkness within the tent, Sho, the commander of the household guard, whispered.
“Should I give them a warning?”
Blake gestured with his hand, indicating not to bother.
“Understood.”
At that moment, a neatly groomed man with sky-blue hair approached Rodwick’s tent.
He was in his early thirties, and as noble as his abilities, the Duke of Hebetzman had a cold, aristocratic face.
“It’s peaceful here.”
The chilly air seemed to revolve around him.
Blake nodded slightly. The Duke of Hebetzman sat down in the vacant seat next to Blake.
“Do you see? The nobles even brought magicians. It seems this year is different.”
Blake’s red eyes shifted to three magicians standing outside the tents.
As their eyes met, they seemed taken aback and quickly averted their gaze.
Not worthy of much attention.
In the midst of their conversation, another tent caught Blake’s eye.
In front of that tent stood a large wolf and a boy about fourteen years old.
“Only the eldest son of the Serdia family came?”
“Oh, Serdia. I heard the second son is sick.”
“Is that so?”
The son with abilities didn’t attend.
It seemed more likely that he didn’t come due to the pressure from the eldest son’s faction rather than being sick.
Blake only nodded in acknowledgment and didn’t ask further.
“Even that side only has one person with abilities.”
The Duke of Hebetzman pointed to a noble conversing with another person.
A blond man who didn’t seem to fit the sunlight at all.
It was Duke Gerweir.
He wasn’t inclined to talk about him, but Blake continued the conversation out of courtesy.
“Did his son not come again this year? He’s been heard about for a few years now, but I’ve never seen him. How old was he?”
“Eight years old. …But Blake, Duke Gerweir has been acting strangely lately.”
“He’s always been like that, hasn’t he?”
“No. He’s acting even stranger than usual.”
The Duke of Hebetzman spoke in a quiet voice.
“He’s been wandering around the slave market.”
