The Young Male Protagonist Who is Destined for Ruin Fell for Me - Chapter 64

The world was a blur. His body was blotched with red burns, and pus oozed from various wounds. Count Gargoyle struggled to keep his shallow breaths from faltering.

He had momentarily forgotten—Chaield was the type who wouldn’t hesitate to burn down a mansion just to catch a single rat.

And Kylian Chaield, the one called the leader of this group, was the most ruthless and cold-blooded among the Dukes of Chaield in history.

“They say he acts like a gentle lamb in front of Amelia Diane…”

Count Gargoyle vividly recalled the moment a week ago when the White Palace’s office went up in flames.

It was the night of the welcome ceremony and ball. Hidden in a dingy, single-room shack like a sewer rat, he had been watching the fireworks outside. But the fireworks seemed too close.

Explosions and roaring flames. The heat grew nearer and nearer, and when he came to his senses, everything around him was ablaze.

It was a scene where he could easily have been swallowed whole by the inferno. But instead of dying, he only lost consciousness and suffered burns. It was as if something had protected him.

At that moment, the face of Marabas Lydel, the man who had handed him a teleportation scroll capable of instantly taking him to Keltman’s capital, flashed through his mind.

“Ugh…”

Though he’d escaped death by a hair, his body was in a dire state. After barely fleeing for his life from the flames, he was now hiding in a damp underground cellar, far from the White Palace’s office.

Revenge and treasures no longer mattered. His greatest wish now was to bask in the warm sunlight and let his damp body dry.

“At least you’re alive, so that’s fortunate. This space doesn’t even appear on the schematics, so not even Chaield will be able to find it,” said Gidima to the Count, who was staring wistfully at the cellar entrance. But even Gidima’s expression was far from optimistic.

“The Duke of Chaield seems to have caught on faster than expected. What method did he use?” Count Gargoyle wondered.

He’d heard rumors in the Haile Empire that the Count was heading to Keltman. But the fact that White Palace was hiding Count Gargoyle was a secret known only to a select few.

“Someone must have betrayed us,” he thought grimly.

Gidima briefly thought of Lien, whose gentle smile seemed softer than her two sons’. Lien, now a grown woman, had become someone capable of sacrificing everything for what she desired.

“She would be a perfect match for the Duke of Chaield in that regard.”

But Lien wasn’t the only likely traitor.

The fireworks had been planned a month in advance. The soldier responsible for the “accident” was a middle-aged man, a veteran who had served in the White Palace for thirty years.

Only Chaield could buy someone like that in an instant. Even now, they were pouring all their resources into uncovering concrete evidence that White Palace was sheltering the Count.

If they found out that Count Gargoyle had provided valuable information, it would be the end for him. Gidima came to a grim conclusion and spoke up.

“Count Gargoyle, Chaield’s hounds are prowling around outside.”

“What?”

“They’re causing a ruckus, claiming they want to help repair the burned office. I managed to hold them off for now. I’ve also memorized their shift times, so it would be wise for you to escape beyond the castle.”

“And where would I go?”

“There’s a deep cave in a nearby mountain. It’s so remote and rugged that not even the women gathering herbs dare approach it. Go there and plan your next move.”

“I’ll do as you suggest.”

“I’ve packed everything you need for the journey. Prepare to leave immediately. Ah, and I’ve also brought a remedy for your burns. Drink it all at once.”

Without suspicion, Count Gargoyle drank the herbal medicine in one gulp and allowed Gidima to help him to his feet. As their faces drew closer, he noticed Gidima’s expression.

While his brows were knit in apparent concern, his eyes gleamed with urgency, as though he wanted to get this task over with.

“I feel like I’ve seen that face somewhere before,” Count Gargoyle mused, blaming his inability to recall the memory as he stepped out of the cellar.

The hunting festival in Keltman, the official reason for summoning envoys from various nations, finally began today.

For days, participants would roam the designated hunting grounds to catch game. The best hunter would be chosen, and the hunted game would be cooked and shared in a grand feast.

But dark clouds loomed overhead, as if ready to unleash rain or snow at any moment. The wind rattled the windows, making the festival’s beginning feel eerily somber.

With the help of the maids, I donned a long, thick winter cloak. Underneath, I wore Keltman’s traditional dress—a design so comfortable and functional that I could leap into battle at a moment’s notice.

After tidying up my attire, I grabbed the handkerchief I had embroidered overnight for Kyle, following Keltman’s tradition. If the opportunity arose, I planned to hand it to him myself.

I quickly left my room, knowing that Kyle and the other participants were already preparing at the foot of the mountain.

“Why separate the men and women for travel? Such a waste of time and resources…” I thought. But adapting to this world left me no choice. I boarded the most luxurious carriage, as directed.

I was momentarily thrilled by the thought of sinking into its cloud-like cushions, but my excitement was short-lived. As soon as I entered, the atmosphere turned awkward.

“L-Lady Diane!”

Lady Gretzel’s face lit up as though she had just seen her savior. Her reaction was understandable. Inside the carriage, Princess Nadia and Princess Lien were locked in an unspoken battle of wills.

“What on earth were they discussing for things to get this tense?” I wondered. Gretzel’s thoughts quickly filled me in.

“Who organized the seating like this? Why are Princess Nadia and Princess Lien arguing? Thank goodness Lady Diane arrived…”

“I didn’t expect Princess Lien to be so blunt with Princess Nadia. Poor Nadia must be even more upset because she couldn’t come up with a rebuttal.”

After the carriage had traveled for a while, I pieced together what had happened before I arrived. It seemed Lien had noticed my empty seat and remarked, “I assume this is Lady Diane’s place? She always seems to be by the princess’s side, tending to her.”

That single statement reduced Princess Nadia to someone incapable of managing on her own. Nadia retorted, “I thought Princess Lien would be traveling with her family,” implying that Lien was treated as a tool by her relatives.

“A sharp observation. Nadia must’ve deduced that from their shared status as princesses.”

It had been a battlefield of words without swords. Smiling sheepishly, I apologized repeatedly for being late, but the two princesses didn’t seem to buy it. Their expressions clearly said, “We’ll settle this later.”

After disembarking from the carriage, we spent time exchanging formal greetings with the envoys from other nations. In the distance, the men preparing for the hunt were slowly strapping on their gaiters and armguards, chatting amongst themselves.

Kyle was among them. After briefly waving in acknowledgment, he dove into a flurry of exchanges, networking as busily as the CEO of a major corporation.

“It seems I won’t get to see Kyle again until the hunting competition ends.”

The ladies, meanwhile, were expected to wait in a Keltman-style residence for the men to return from the hunt. That thought reminded me of the handkerchief I had brought with me.

“Vanessa, could you deliver this to Kyle for me? I can’t leave my post right now. Also, tell him to be careful—I have a bad feeling.”

With the former knight-commander Hailed and other guards watching over Kyle, there was little chance of him getting injured during the hunt. Yet, for some reason, an uneasy feeling lingered in my heart.

As I watched Vanessa swiftly make her way toward Kyle, I felt someone approach from the side.

“Milady, are you all right? You don’t look well.”

“Hailed? Why are you here?”

“His Grace ordered me to guard you. He’s still concerned since the rat’s corpse hasn’t been found.”

The “rat,” of course, referred to Count Gargoyle, who had been hiding in the White Palace’s office.

Given that Gidima had announced the fire as an “accident” rather than arson, it seemed likely that she had helped the Count escape to some unknown location.

“Or perhaps she eliminated him to cover her tracks before anyone could find out about their collusion. It’s suspicious that she ignored Chaield’s offer to help rebuild and instead moved operations to a temporary office.”

Though I didn’t know the full story yet, it was clear that caution was necessary. Still, my concern for Kyle persisted.

“Hailed, I’m fine. Could you go keep an eye on Kyle instead?”

“As expected, the future duchess is as selfless as ever. However, I must decline. I hope you understand.”

Was there some critical reason why he had to stay with me? Even when I tried to read Hailed’s thoughts, nothing particularly useful came to light.

“After reading Lady Claire’s report, it’s clear that protecting Lady Diane, the Areté bearer, is the right decision. His Grace likely feels the same way.”

What on earth did that mean? Vanessa and Hailed both being assigned to me felt like excessive security.

Vanessa carefully carried the small box I had entrusted to her as she approached Kyle. The hunting preparations were in full swing, and the atmosphere made it clear that maids weren’t welcome. But her nimble movements allowed her to slip through undetected.

“I need to catch His Grace alone to deliver this properly…”

Frowning slightly, Vanessa signaled to Kyle. Sensing something unusual, Kyle quickly realized who she was and stepped aside to a quieter spot.

“What is it?” he asked curtly.

Ugh, this attitude. Vanessa swallowed her rising annoyance.

“…Has something happened to my fiancée?” he asked, his expression softening noticeably.

Look at him change his tone, Vanessa thought, stifling a sigh. She handed him the small box without a word.

Kyle opened it immediately, and his lips curved upward in delight, like a child discovering a rainbow. A handkerchief adorned with a clumsy embroidery of a rooster greeted him. Judging by the awkward decorations, it seemed to be a rooster.

“Did she embroider this while thinking of me…?”

The longer he stared, the more the odd circular shapes next to the rooster began to resemble chicks. Does this symbolize fertility, perhaps? he wondered.

Vanessa was about to relay my message when she realized she couldn’t quite recall the exact words.

“Milady said she has a bad feeling, so she wanted you to be careful with your… back.”

“My back?” Kyle echoed.

“…Wait, no. Not your back—your body!”

“Be careful with your back,” huh? The handkerchief’s embroidery of a rooster and chicks seemed to confirm it. Kyle looked utterly charmed, repeatedly inspecting the handkerchief.

Noticing Kyle’s softened expression, Vanessa instinctively recognized her opportunity.

“By the way,” she said, holding up five fingers in front of him, “special security fee—five times the usual rate. It’s a unique situation, after all.”

Five times? Even Vanessa thought it was an audacious number, more akin to daylight robbery.

Of course, she expected it to be negotiated down. Her true goal was to double the usual fee.

But instead of reacting with surprise or anger, Kyle held up the handkerchief for her to see.

“What does this embroidery look like to you?” he asked.

Vanessa knew the answer. I had told her it was a grand dragon rising from the ground, with the small circles symbolizing clumps of earth being tossed into the air.

But Kyle seemed completely enamored by what he saw. If he’s this delighted, then… Vanessa’s mind, honed by Chaield’s capitalist culture, quickly concocted a new strategy.

“Anyone can tell it’s a rooster with chicks,” she said confidently. “It must symbolize fertility—or perhaps a harmonious family.”

“…Do you really think so?”

“Of course. Oh, Milady looked so happy while embroidering it!”

That was a lie. I had grumbled endlessly about how tedious the embroidery was. But Vanessa, with her mastery of theatrics, pressed on. At last, Kyle’s eyes crinkled with an amused smile.

“So, during the hunting festival, the rate is five times, correct?” Vanessa asked, still holding up her hand.

Kyle carefully folded the handkerchief and tucked it into his chest pocket.

“Do you only have one hand?”

Two hands. Ten fingers. Ten times the usual rate.

It was Kyle Chaield’s modest little way of saying thank you.