Chapter 22

“I’m a cook.”

Lowering the cutting board, Luciella answered calmly.

“I entered the kitchen with Baron Bellaon’s permission. Uncle Jerome didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Hah, Lord Cain?”

“And for the record, Lord Osborne knows I’m here as well. No one has told me to leave yet.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Although Osborne clearly disliked her, he wasn’t simple-minded enough to throw out someone brought by Cain, a member of the ducal family, without proper justification.

At the mention of Osborne, tension briefly crossed Renard’s face.

But the look he directed at Luciella only grew harsher.

“Hah, you certainly talk well.”

He snorted.

“As it happens, I’m coming straight from hearing about you from Lord Osborne.”

Crossing his arms, he continued.

“He said that in a few days, you’ll become Young Master Theo’s maid. A little brat who can’t even properly hold a kitchen knife pretending to be a chef—your little game only lasts until then.”

“I’m relieved to hear that, until that happens, everyone still recognizes me as a cook.”

Luciella answered with a bright smile.

I’ve had enough of being threatened by large adults back at Lord Nor’s castle.

By now, she knew from experience that if she didn’t stand up for herself, she would simply be crushed.

Renard’s expression darkened further.

“Hmph. I don’t know where some gutter-born girl like you came from, but now that I’ve returned, there will be no reason for you to set foot in my kitchen—”

“On the contrary.”

A cold voice from behind abruptly cut off his growl.

“There will be many reasons. A great many.”

Renard turned around.

Cain stood at the entrance to the garden.

“It’s been a while, Lord Cain.”

Renard spoke with a tone and expression far removed from courtesy.

“Indeed.”

Cain slowly approached, looking directly at Renard.

“So you’re still staying at the ducal estate.”

Renard replied sarcastically.

“It seems the barony doesn’t provide suitable lodging for you.”

“The barony is too quiet.”

Cain smiled coolly.

“There’s far more to see here at the ducal estate.”

“For example, watching a man return after months away and begin by slapping his subordinates.”

“Or watching someone bark as though the kitchen belongs to him and try to drive away its rightful owners.”

His voice was icy.

His expression utterly devoid of humor.

This was different from the Cain Luciella normally knew.

There was murderous intent about him—as though if provoked just a little more, he would kill his opponent without hesitation.

Apparently sensing it, Renard involuntarily stepped back.

“When did I ever—? I was merely disciplining the staff for the Duke’s sake.”

“And surely you know that His Grace hates unnecessary disturbances more than anything.”

“……”

“Especially disturbances caused by those beneath him.”

“…You certainly know Father’s preferences well, Cain.”

As Renard hesitated, another voice came from behind.

“Anyone listening would think you were his real son.”

A thin, pale-faced man with platinum-blond hair stepped forward.

Osborne.

“No.”

He smirked.

“They’d think you were the master of this estate.”

“The one acting like the master of this estate isn’t me, Brother.”

The killing intent in Cain’s eyes deepened.

“Oh?”

“Well.”

Cain continued slowly.

“Someone who has spent years insisting on personally managing every affair within the estate.”

“Someone who has gone to great lengths to line up all the servants beneath himself.”

His voice remained quiet but firm.

“And these days, someone who has others refer to him as ‘the eldest son of the ducal house.’”

“Hah.”

Osborne let out an amused laugh.

“Surely you’re not talking about me?”

“I’m speaking quite plainly.”

Cain answered.

“But apparently not plainly enough.”

“Yes, Brother.”

“I am talking about you.”

The smile Osborne had been maintaining gradually faded.

“You misunderstand.”

He said softly.

“When one performs the role of eldest son long enough, people naturally begin to see him that way.”

His tone remained gentle, but beneath it lay years of hatred.

Anyone could see it.

This man hated Cain.

Not with the condescending disdain he showed Luciella.

No.

This hatred ran down to his very bones.

“I thought you merely tried hard to play Father’s son.”

Osborne curled his lips.

“But now it seems you wish to play younger brother to Cedric as well, despite never having met him.”

He sneered.

“Isn’t it you who wants to become the eldest son of the ducal house?”

“Not particularly.”

Cain replied.

“Unlike you, I already possess a title.”

“…!”

For the first time, Osborne lost his composure.

His face twisted.

Nicely said.

Luciella nodded inwardly.

The title of Baron Bellaon—

Lord of the wealthy lands blessed with silver and iron mines.

The first title the Duke had received in his youth.

And the title that should originally have gone to his eldest son.

When Cedric died, Osborne had undoubtedly believed that title belonged to him.

So naturally, he could never look kindly upon Cain, who had appeared out of nowhere before even reaching adulthood and earned that title amid praise as a hero.

“…I’m the one who filled Cedric’s place.”

Osborne lowered his voice.

“Not you.”

“Not some distant collateral branch member who spends all his time wandering around and hardly ever appears at official events.”

“Anyone listening would think Lord Cedric left no blood behind.”

Cain answered coldly.

“My nephew Bael exists.”

“My nephew, you mean.”

Osborne snorted.

“And as you well know…”

Seeing the disbelief on his face, he laughed bitterly.

“When you look at that ghost who’s spent years barely living, you can only conclude that Cedric’s bloodline has already ended.”

“Watch your tongue.”

This time, it was Cain who could no longer hide his emotions.

Fwoosh—

Blue mana flared around him.

A silver magic circle engraved upon the back of his neck shone brightly.

The pressure of his killing intent was suffocating.

His eyes looked ready to reach for Osborne’s throat at any moment.

Luciella herself was furious.

To say Cedric’s bloodline had ended was no different from declaring Bael dead.

And considering that Osborne might very well be the man responsible for Cedric’s death and Bael’s poisoning—

The fact that Cain hadn’t already drawn his sword demonstrated incredible restraint.

“Hah.”

Osborne chuckled.

Rather than fear, his face showed amusement.

He seemed pleased that he had provoked such a reaction.

“What?”

“Planning to kill me?”

“If you’re curious, then keep wagging your tongue.”

“Perhaps I will.”

Osborne smiled leisurely.

“I’m curious myself.”

“To see how far the insolence of some distant collateral branch can go against the Duke’s direct bloodline.”

The magic circle on Cain’s neck flashed again.

Veins bulged throughout his body.

The air around him sharpened like blades.

Osborne planted his feet firmly and gripped the sword at his waist.

The two men glared at each other like beasts ready to tear each other apart.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

A voice suddenly shouted from the opposite side of the garden.

“Father has just returned! What kind of disgrace is this? Cain, were you seriously about to use mana?”

A younger man who resembled Osborne, though less imposing and somewhat weaker-looking, rushed forward while desperately trying to separate them.

“Father is right!”

Beside him stood a young man with a pale face and round eyes, who looked just shy of twenty.

“Uncles, what in the world are you doing?”

There was no need to ask who they were.

Debron Bellaon, the Duke’s third son.

And his own son, Edwin.

Cain withdrew his killing intent when he saw the direction of their gazes, and Osborne relaxed his expression as well.

Following their eyes, Luciella turned toward the opposite side of the garden.

There were far more than just two people standing there.

Theo.

His younger sister Isolde.

A cold-faced woman who appeared to be Osborne’s wife, holding Isolde’s hand.

Beside her stood another noblewoman with long silver hair elegantly pinned up, holding the hand of a delicate-looking young girl.

And behind them stood more than a dozen servants and maids.

Luciella’s eyes widened.

Such a large procession moving together meant only one thing.

“How very entertaining.”

Sure enough, someone slowly parted the crowd from behind.

Gulp.

The moment Luciella saw his face, she unconsciously swallowed.

“I return from months spent governing my territory…”

“And what do I find?”

“My children fighting amongst themselves.”

Marseus Bellaon.

The current Duke of Bellaon.

Had arrived.