Chapter 1020

"Go check on what Kiole is doing and bring him to me. Where is he right now?"

"The young master is still under probation and remains in the annex. If it’s the usual schedule, he should be practicing swordsmanship around now..."

"Since the probation began, has he ever gone outside? Has he been in contact with anyone?"

"I received no reports of such, but I’ll confirm."

Swallowing his unease, the butler stepped out and summoned the attendants who had been serving Kiole. After a while, he returned, bowed his head to Duke Diarca, and spoke.

"The young master never prepared to go out, they said. A couple of letters came from the Imperial Guard about his leave of absence, but he never replied. However..."

"However?"

"On the night of the first day of his probation, it seems he might have gone outside in his pajamas. No one actually saw him leaving, but the next morning, the laundry maid found mud-covered pajamas and slippers shoved under the bed."

"He went outside in pajamas? That boy?"

Duke Diarca asked in disbelief.

"Since he was wearing indoor slippers, he couldn't have gone far. Given it was the first day of probation, they assumed he was feeling stifled and stepped into the garden through the window for a brief stroll. That’s what the servants believed, so they didn’t report it."

"And there hasn’t been anything like that since?"

"No, sir. I’ve confirmed it repeatedly. He’s been staying quietly in the annex ever since."

The butler bowed deeper, ashamed. Duke Diarca frowned slightly as he looked at him.

Causing a scene out of frustration on the first night of confinement was very much something Kiole might do. But... considering the recent changes in his youngest son and the conversation they'd had the day he was placed under probation, he couldn’t dismiss it so easily.

It was a vague, irritating feeling that tugged at him, like a splinter under the skin. Following that feeling, Duke Diarca opened his mouth.

"Still. Bring him here. I want to see for myself."

A short while later, Kiole entered. His casual attire and practice sword made it clear he had just been training. Sweat still dotted his forehead, but he didn’t ask why he had been summoned. With lips pressed tight and posture composed, he stood in front of his father. Duke Diarca slowly asked:

"Kiole. It seems you already have a guess as to why I called you here."

It was half a fishing attempt, meant to probe. But the answer that came back was unexpected.

"You must’ve realized that what I said was right. Isn’t that why you called me?"

Kiole was unusually confident. He met his father’s eyes with a bright look, as if he'd been waiting for this day. Duke Diarca, hiding his inner surprise, stared at his son like he was seeing him for the first time.

"A new disaster struck the South, and the Cavalry and Imperial Guard helped resolve it. Did you already know?"

"Didn’t I tell you this would happen?"

"What I want to know most... is how the Imperial Guard knew to go. Did you—"

"Yes. I recommended that to the Commander of the Guard."

Before Diarca could finish, Kiole answered clearly—though avoiding his father's gaze. Duke Diarca clenched his {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} pipe with a cold, low voice.

"When we last discussed something like this, I told you very clearly—"

"To leave the South to its fate, even if the Cavalry's claims of a disaster were true. Yes, I remember. That’s why I thought the Guard should go instead!"

His tone was unwavering—so much so that even the butler was briefly struck speechless.

The Duke silently took deep breaths for a while. He couldn’t read his youngest son. Kiole still seemed to fear him, and his words were spoken with that same naive honesty—but his conviction was absolute. That made him even harder to understand. It was a first for the Duke.

"On the first night of my probation, I went to the palace and spoke with the Commander. He understood what I was trying to say. Later, through his letter, I realized my judgment and information hadn’t been wrong."

"You think you were right?"

To speak of helping the enemy and still claim he was right—he might as well be begging to be killed. Yet Kiole, unmoved, threw the question back at his father.

"Where does a noble’s true strength come from? You were the one who taught me that when I was young. Do you remember?"

"......"

"You said House Diarca always stepped forward for the Empire, even when other families turned away. You said we gave everything when the royal family was too weak or lazy. You said leading even the useless ones—guiding them properly—was true power."

As he spoke, Kiole clenched the fabric near his chest.

"That’s why I did it. Because I believed it was the right time. I told the Commander as much, and he agreed. Maybe you don’t understand me now, Father. But you’ll realize it soon enough. That I was right."

"Kiole... do you even know what you’re saying...?"

He was about to retort when something struck Duke Diarca.

“It has to be now?”

What kind of moment was this?

It was the moment Duke Diarca realized that everything he thought he knew was strangely unraveling. He had no idea where the breach in his information started. What he had been certain of had turned into uncertainty.

He could brush it off if he wanted. But the unease gnawed at him.

Those he trusted had failed him. The plans he thought were airtight had all misfired. And yet, Kiole stood before him—firm, precise, unshaken.

Kiole had brought information directly to the Duke. He had been ignored, but his information was proven right. No one else had done that.

“Theo Rado van Ta-in is no fool. He’s never been passionate about his duties, but he doesn’t get easily swayed either. If he accepted Kiole’s request...”

It meant following Kiole’s suggestion benefited not only the Imperial Guard and Theo Rado himself—but also House Ta-in.

With only fragments of news coming in, the Duke still couldn’t tell what exactly had happened in the South or how it was resolved.

But one thing was clear: the new Duke of Hern had successfully taken the title. And Diarca hadn't even known about it.

The Emperor, slippery as ever. The Duke of Pelleta, likely smiling beside him, backed by the unknown power of the Cavalry. House Ta-in moving quickly and decisively. And Kiole—claiming that it would not harm House Diarca, even if he aided them.

After all those thoughts, Duke Diarca finally arrived at an unbelievable conclusion.

Kiole. Could it be... that boy moved ahead, knowing that the information leaks within House Diarca were no small matter?

That the very thing Duke Diarca had only just realized—Kiole had seen it already and had started making moves accordingly?

Anyone else would laugh at such an idea. But Duke Diarca remembered his son’s desperate face—how he’d tried to shield himself from the manipulations of the so-called Sage. How he’d acted on his own to protect himself.

Kiole clearly knew something his father didn’t. Otherwise, he couldn’t have moved with such speed, certainty, and purpose.

You...

As Duke Diarca’s eyes trembled with doubt, Kiole bowed.

"That’s all I had to say, Father. May I take my leave now?"

The Duke watched his son’s back in silence as he walked out the door. When it closed, he turned to the butler with an entirely different look in his eyes.

"...Lift Kiole’s probation. And from now on, no matter what time it is, if he asks to see me—report it immediately."

The shocking news spread through House Diarca in an instant.