Ch#47
Elric felt a persistent sense of frustration throughout the entire journey back from the tailor shop.
It was because his heart refused to listen to reason.
What kept coming to mind was the incident with Aman Nimrud, Tiria’s subsequent explanation, and his own reaction in that moment.
‘I hate it.’
He hated the thought of Aman Nimrud imagining a future with Tiria.
No, it wasn’t just him; the mere idea of anyone in the world being by her side filled him with a visceral, sickening loathing.
It was unpleasant.
The crawling sensation of that emotion felt like it was tightening around his throat.
And that made Elric feel truly ashamed.
‘……How selfish of me.’
He chastised himself.
He was the one who had abandoned her in the first place—what right did he have to judge her suitors?
If she desired someone, he was in a position where he ought to offer his blessings.
He was in a position where he had to apologize for the years she had endured.
And yet, to harbor such hatred; how incredibly selfish could he be?
“My Lord, are you feeling unwell?”
When she spoke first, his negative emotions began to swell to an immeasurable size.
Turning his head, his gaze was captured by green eyes that resembled the first sprouts of spring.
A thought drifted into his mind.
If someone had to make her happy,
‘Could that person be… me?’
The moment the thought occurred, Elric flinched, a shudder running through his body.
“My Lord?”
“Ah, it’s nothing.”
Elric replied hurriedly, feeling a sudden surge of heat.
He needed to change the subject. The urge to distance himself from these thoughts rose incessantly.
“By the way, are there no other schedules?”
Yes, this was better.
“There are still two days left until the banquet. I wondered if there was any business you needed to attend to, since we are already in the capital… something like that.”
Fortunately, Tiria responded to his prompt.
“There is nothing major.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Usually, it is common to socialize with other nobles, but the Portman family is a fledgling house that only recently joined the peerage, so we lack the connections to socialize.”
Tiria turned her head toward the Royal Castle visible in the distance.
“It is a concern. I should try to make some connections during this banquet.”
At those words, Elric felt a sharp prick of guilt.
‘Go ahead. Use that head of yours to think of any way to repay this insult. I shall wait with pleasure.’
The incident at the tailor shop came back to him.
Connections, she said.
He didn’t know about allies, but he felt certain he had made an enemy.
As an awkward, jagged smile tugged at the corners of Elric’s mouth, Tiria asked,
“……Are you truly alright?”
“I am fine. Truly, I am fine.”
Had he made an enemy through a rash decision?
No, even so, that man called the Nimrud heir was far too insolent.
How loathsome it had been to see a beast-like man who likely carried every foul disease imaginable leering at Tiria.
The idea of enduring that for the sake of the family’s future was something Elric simply could not imagine.
Struggling to soothe his unease, they arrived at the estate to find Aldio, who had left early that morning, already returned.
“Ah, have you finished your outing?”
Aldio greeted them with a thin smile.
However, there was a hint of trouble in his expression.
Elric responded with suspicion.
“The clothes are said to be delivered sometime tomorrow. But why do you have that look on your face?”
“That, well……”
Aldio glanced between Elric and Tiria.
“……I was told that the bed cannot be delivered today.”
Elric felt a sinking sense of despair, as if his heart had dropped into his stomach.
“W-What do you mean by that?”
“I tried to find even a small one, but the timing is unfortunate. Many provincial nobles have come up to the capital and are looking for new furniture. Because of that……”
Aldio couldn’t finish his sentence and lowered his head deeply.
Elric stared blankly at Tiria.
She looked at Aldio with an inscrutable expression before speaking.
“……It seems we must use the same bed again tonight.”
It was dangerous.
Tonight was truly dangerous.
He didn’t know exactly what the danger was, but a primal instinct kept telling him that falling asleep tonight would be even harder than the night before.
Elric looked at Aldio, pleading for rescue, but the butler simply looked away.
It was at that moment.
“Dinner is served!”
A maid broke the atmosphere.
Aldio slipped away like a shadow.
Elric screamed inwardly.
If one were to name the wealthiest and most powerful family in the Kingdom of Ferdin, the name that would arise was none other than that of a Count.
It was a strange thing.
Normally, the actual power of a kingdom was held by the Royal Family or the great nobles belonging to the ranks of Duke or Marquis.
However, such anomalies were not entirely impossible.
Count Dalton Nimrud was the proof of that.
Wealth from managing a vast territory rivaling a Dukedom, power wielded through numerous connections built both inside and outside the kingdom, and his own personal ambition.
Dalton Nimrud was a Count with strength so formidable he could even challenge the King of Ferdin.
Yet, it would be a lie to say such a man had no weaknesses.
In fact, he had a weakness that everyone knew about.
“……Baron Portman?”
“Ye-Yes……”
In the study of the Nimrud estate located in the capital.
In the center of a space where ornate decorations radiated light, Dalton looked down at the man kneeling with his head bowed.
Aman Nimrud, his son.
“Not even a Baron yet. I understand he is effectively just an heir who hasn’t even properly finished the succession process.”
A trace of fury began to lace his voice.
“You were beaten and humiliated by a fellow like that?”
Dalton’s eyes gleamed with rage.
At that, Aman’s body shrank even further.
“……Useless fool.”
Clicking his tongue, Dalton thought about the Portmans.
‘Tangled up with them again.’
The wrinkles on Dalton’s face deepened.
He was remembering an incident from several years ago, back when the previous head of the Portman family was still alive.
‘Hoven Portman, I never liked that man either.’
Being an emerging noble who had ousted the Wibin family—who had held the region for over a hundred years—and seized the territory, Dalton had approached him out of interest.
It was based on the philosophy that capable vassals should be recruited whenever possible.
However, Hoven Portman had rejected Dalton outright, as if he had seen through his intentions.
‘I am grateful for your kindness, but it feels more than I deserve. I am merely a country bumpkin running a small rural territory and a merchant guild.’
He had lowered himself politely, but it was easy to see that he simply disliked being under anyone’s thumb.
His attitude had made that clear.
To dare reject a Nimrud in Ferdin.
He was a man Dalton found thoroughly disagreeable.
Recalling this, Dalton’s expression crumpled.
“Like father, like son……”
“F-Father?”
“Get out. I can’t stand the sight of you.”
Gasping, Aman bowed hastily and scurried away.
Dalton let out a sigh.
“That thing calls itself my child.”
He was utterly useless.
It wasn’t even a secluded location, but a tailor shop on 1st Avenue where the noble traffic was heaviest.
There was no way the rumor that Aman had been bested by Elric Portman wouldn’t spread.
It was a bad look.
Since the one who was practically the face of the family had been humiliated by a commoner who wasn’t even a Baron yet, he had to handle the aftermath if only for the sake of their prestige.
Dalton immediately left the estate.
‘What has happened cannot be undone.’
However, such things must not be shown easily to others.
One might commit an insolence, but it must be shown that the responsibility for it falls entirely upon the perpetrator.
The place he arrived at was a corner of a secluded alley in the capital.
In front of a shabby wooden door stood a figure clad in a black robe.
Recognizing Dalton, the figure stepped away from the door.
The moment he stepped inside.
“……It’s troublesome for you to visit so often.”
A gloomy, low voice echoed.
Dalton felt a surge of tension.
He was a man who didn’t back down anywhere when it came to the weight of power, but this opponent required caution.
“The situation has changed slightly.”
“Changed in which way? The fact that your son got himself beaten up?”
Did they already know?
Dalton’s brow furrowed.
The man hidden under the robe chuckled and waved his hand.
“Well, since you’re helping us this much, I’ll be understanding. I know we wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”
He stood up from his seat.
Dalton took a short breath and said to him,
“……Can you handle it?”
“Let’s get one thing clear first.”
“What?”
“We don’t know any method other than killing. That guy who punched your son—is he someone who can be killed?”
The tone, which didn’t hold the slightest hesitation regarding murder, was truly unsettling.
Tension filled his gut, but Dalton was not a man so clumsy as to let it show.
“There only needs to be no evidence that the killing is related to me.”
“So you want the cleanup to be tidy. You’re smart. That way you can just spread the rumor that the man who harassed your son died in a foreign land?”
After spitting out words that might have been sarcasm, he eventually shrugged his shoulders.
It was his own form of affirmation.
“I leave it to you.”
After saying that, Dalton added one more thing.
“I have no doubt that you, who are called the Reapers of the West, can accomplish this much with your eyes closed.”
At those words, the man grinned.
“Thanks for using Wolyeong again today, noble sir.”
Wolyeong—it was the name of the assassin group that had assassinated the most influential figures in the western war zone.
