༺ Change ༻
The eldest son of the Bellion Count family, Kyle Bellion.
The second son of the Kelid Duke family, Deron Kelid.
The second son of the Rospel Marquis family, Blund Rospel.
The sole heir of the Rapellion Count family, Elden Rapellion.
Aside from the somewhat declined Rapellion Count family, all were descendants of families with solid standings in the Winterfell Northern Territory, and they had thrown their hats into the ring for the engagement competition with Duchess Lemian.
They were also the victors who made it to the final candidates out of 100 participants.
In terms of appearance, martial and literary skills, wealth, and their respective achievements, they were outstanding individuals and were suitable candidates for an engagement with the Third Duchess Lemian.
The problem was.
“…Why did she only choose such people?”
If one were to look beyond their superficial qualities and into their true natures, they were despicable and shameless individuals who enjoyed dominating over the weak, did not shy away from wrongful pleasures and luxuries, and did not hesitate to commit evil deeds for achievements, embodying the typical vices of nobility.
Therefore, Gelwood, the central advisor of the Winterfell Ducal family, had fervently hoped, when these four made it through the main selection, that Miss Lemian would not choose any of them.
Hoping earnestly that this desperate wish would reach the lady.
However, Miss Lemian seemed to have breezily dismissed that wish, or perhaps she thoroughly scooped out the well-intentioned but presumptuous advice, selecting exactly those four as the final candidates, and Gelwood had to drink from the cup of despair.
Given her personality and exceptional insight, it was an utterly incomprehensible choice, but as a mere advisor, he had no choice but to follow the decisions of his superior, hiding his dismay while reviewing the cohabitation that would start tomorrow.
That was until a minute ago.
“…Haha, it seems Mr. Elden has come not with a request but a joke, then?”
A joke, indeed.
Gelwood had believed so.
He had to.
If only the four final candidates remained in this world, he would have chosen Elden Rapellion.
As a lesser evil, so to speak.
The reason was simple.
Among the other three, Elden was ‘somewhat’, ‘less’ weak and evil. At least he was just a beast true to his instincts, not wearing a cunning mask like the others.
At his declaration of forfeiture, Gelwood forced a smile and asked again.
However, the answer that came back was contrary to expectations.
“This has nothing to do with a joke.”
His eyes shone with serious light, and his lips delivered a truthful voice.
Only then did Gelwood face the reality, hardening his expression to ask again.
“…You’re serious. What is the reason?”
“Perhaps I’ve realized I’m far too lacking to be a partner in the engagement with the Third Northern Duchess.”
“You’ve passed both the preliminary and main selections with outstanding scores, and you were chosen by the Duchess herself. How can you think you lack qualification?”
“I think I’ve been granted an honor far beyond what I deserve. When one holds something they shouldn’t, the law is to let go.”
“So, you intend to render all your efforts to waste?”
Elden shrugged nonchalantly, with a calm face.
“It’s about reducing the wasted effort that would have otherwise increased.”
“…You are in a position that a hundred noblemen dream of. Are you truly willing to give it up?”
“Yes.”
His answer was as brief as it was firm.
In the face of an atmosphere where persuasion seemed futile, Gelwood eventually stepped back after a moment of consideration.
“There has never been a withdrawal of a final candidate in the history of the engagement competition… It seems I must report this to His Grace. If you give me a day, I will promptly provide you with an answer.”
Elden sighed softly.
To him, eager to leave this place, a day’s time felt unbearably long.
Yet, considering that a sudden candidate withdrawal could irritate the Northern Duke, he had no choice but to politely ask Gelwood to convey his message.
“Please convey my words well to His Grace.”
Please, just help me with my escape.
Unaware of Elden’s true intentions, Gelwood once again offered a gentle smile.
“Do not worry. Your opinion will be respected by the candidate.”
“Then.”
Elden gave Gelwood a light bow.
In terms of legal status, Elden was above Gelwood, but as the central advisor of the ducal family governing the Northern Territory, his social position was higher, requiring mutual respect.
Not out of obligation, but as a matter of duty.
Of course, for Gelwood, who received such courtesy for the first time since their meeting, it was inevitably perplexing.
It had been fifteen days since the engagement competition began, and despite numerous encounters and conversations, Elden Rapellion’s head had always been stubbornly stiff.
No, more than stiff; it was arrogantly lifted, unaware of the heavens above.
Moreover, the aura surrounding him was sharp, and his red eyes emitted a dangerous light.
But somehow.
‘…Different.’
To be precise, the sense of incongruity felt immediately after the current meeting was defined by the recent bow.
His eyes were as peaceful as spring, and his aura was as comforting as a gentle breeze.
His words and actions, previously raw and harsh, were now gentle and polite.
It might have been a subtle change, born of abstraction, but recognizing and responding to it is a virtue an advisor must possess, making Gelwood curious about Elden’s change.
For now, he hurriedly returned the bow to Elden.
“Take care, Mr. Elden.”
“Yes. Then, please continue with your work.”
Click.
Elden left the office, and Gelwood, mulling over the aura left behind, began to head straight to the lord’s study.
The pressing issue was not Elden Rapellion’s subtle change but the unprecedented withdrawal of a final candidate in the history of the engagement competition.
**
“Tsk.”
Leaving the advisor’s office, I had to click my tongue. My escape was delayed. Moreover, I hadn’t received a clear answer.
If the Northern Duke were to invalidate my declaration of forfeiture, it would certainly become a nuisance.
Of course, it seemed unlikely that he would refuse the forfeiture of the weakest family among the final candidates.
Anyway, for now, I could only hope that the great Northern Duke wouldn’t mind and would just approve it.
“I should pack my things.”
I had sent the butler on an errand, fearing he might interfere.
Packing was something I could manage well enough on my own, having been a freelancer before.
Hastily returning to my room, I began to gather everything in sight.
‘My belongings are surprisingly modest.’
Thanks to the ducal family providing the necessary items, there wasn’t much to pack.
A few sets of clothes, shoes, accessories, and a few bottles of fine liquor were all.
The presence of empty bottles suggested I had enjoyed drinking during the engagement competition.
‘Villains and alcohol are an inseparable combination, after all.’
As I was packing my belongings in case I needed to make a midnight escape, an elderly man entered the room with a knock.
It was the butler, Rendler, whom I had sent on an errand.
“I’ve brought the items you requested, sir.”
Pointing vaguely towards the shelf, I said, “Just put it over there.”
“……”
After packing a decent bundle and straightening up, I saw Rendler, still holding the errand items, staring at me as if he had seen something he shouldn’t have.
Glancing around, I said, “What are you doing? Why aren’t you putting it there?”
“……What are you… doing right now, sir…?”
“Ah, I forgot to mention, but I just came from declaring my forfeiture to the advisor. I’m packing so I can leave on time.”
“So, you mean… you’re actually…?”
Hmm, was that too difficult to understand?
It didn’t seem that incomprehensible.
And for the scion of a declined family who made it to the final candidates, being satisfied with just that achievement should be enough, shouldn’t it? Perhaps the butler of the Rapellion Count family had been harboring some vain hope that this scoundrel would actually win in the end.
If so, I’m sorry.
“Getting this far is a miracle. Just being a final candidate in the ducal engagement competition is validation enough, and numerous families will offer marriage proposals. There’s no need to cling to a battle with no chance of winning.”
“……”
I thought that would be enough for him to understand, but Rendler’s eyes, which suddenly widened, didn’t seem to settle down.
Just when I was about to feel unnecessarily sorry for giving the old butler such a shock, he looked at the bundle of belongings and uttered one sentence.
And that one sentence vividly showcased the character of Elden Rapellion, the vile character.
“So… you mean, sir, ‘you’ personally… packed…? How… how could this be……”
“……?”
So, to the old butler, it was more shocking that Elden Rapellion, the scoundrel, had personally packed his belongings than the fact he had kicked away the opportunity to elevate his declining family.
This meant, the butler had never even a speck of hope that Elden Rapellion would ultimately win.
……
……
Elden Rapellion.
What kind of life have you been living?
