SIWALL 14

“Elliot Brown is suspicious, no matter how you look at it.”

At Arzen’s sharp voice, Luor tensed, dropping his shoulders and straightening his back.

“It seems he’s using some sort of drug on me.”

“Pardon?”

Luor’s gentle face instantly turned fierce. It was the gaze of a warrior who had taken the lives of countless enemies, assassins, and spies. His voice dropped even lower.

“Are you talking about sleeping pills?”

“Yes. Unlike the first day, yesterday I fell asleep far too quickly. Plus, I got a full nine hours of quality sleep today, too. There’s no other explanation.”

Had the emperor finally resorted to using drugs after all? Knowing the man’s ruthless nature firsthand, Luor couldn’t help but shudder with anger.

The emperor had a pathological wariness and hatred for Arzen. During their time on the battlefield, the hardest part for Luor wasn’t dealing with the enemy army, but disposing of the assassins swarming in like bugs. Arzen and Luor had always fought two wars at once.

“Couldn’t it be poison?”

“The only thing I ingested before bed was the lavender tea I always drink. There was no poison in it, just like usual.”

“If it’s a drug, it probably wouldn’t register on a silver spoon anyway.”

Luor nodded.

“I will investigate Elliot Brown.”

At Luor’s words, Arzen thought for a moment before leaning back in his chair like a well-fed tiger.

“Never mind. I’ll find out myself tonight.”

Having slept soundly for two nights in a row, his physical condition was at its absolute peak. Even looking back over the last ten years, it was rare for him to feel this refreshed and light on his feet. With his physical condition so good, his mind had grown relaxed as well.

In the past, when a former bedtime attendant tried to slip in a poison-tipped needle, Arzen had accurately chopped off the attendant’s hand even while his eyes were covered by a sleep mask. It was only possible because he always kept his high-tension alertness razor-sharp.

Under normal circumstances, the moment he suspected someone of using drugs, he would have dragged Elliot down to the subterranean torture chamber to force a confession.

Right now, however—though no one would know it—Arzen was feeling quite leisurely and generous. A life free from fatigue, headaches, tinnitus, and vertigo. He could deal with the likes of Elliot Brown whenever he pleased.

“I’m looking forward to tonight. Let’s see what my meticulous siren is hiding beneath his mermaid tail.”

Arzen smiled crookedly.

At that moment, the ‘meticulous siren’ was attempting to give Camembert a belly-raspberry while lying sprawled out on his back, only to get smacked right in the face by a paw.

“Ow, ouch! Okay, I’m sorry, I won’t do it! Wait, Camembert!”

All without having the slightest clue about his own impending future.

∞ ∞ ∞

For once, the usually silent Teron mansion was bustling from the middle of the day. The maids’ footsteps were hurried, and their voices rose by an octave. The valets and maids had changed into nicer clothes than usual, and there wasn’t a single place from the kitchen to the garden that wasn’t busy.

As Elliot stepped out of his room and looked around the corridor in bewilderment, Mary, who was rushing past, came to a dead stop.

“Are you going out to greet them too, Elliot?”

“Greet? Th-The Grand Duke?”

“No, the Sculpture of the Gods is visiting us soon!”

What?

Elliot’s face turned completely pale in an instant. Misunderstanding that complexion, Mary bounced up and down in place with excitement.

“This is my first time seeing the Sculpture of the Gods in person! It’s your first time too, right? Let’s hurry!”

Blushing, Mary linked arms with Elliot and pulled him along. Elliot let himself be dragged away in a daze.

The Sculpture of the Gods? Loran? The original work’s bottom who dropped a bombshell on him yesterday? That person is coming here today?

Just as his mind was filling to the brim with endless questions born of disbelief, they arrived at the first-floor lobby. The grand front doors stood wide open, and the Teron family servants were solemnly lined up in formation. Right at the very front stood Arzen.

Arzen Teron, wearing a mask and black hair.

What? That’s identical to the description in the original work!

What happened to his hair color? Why is he wearing a mask again?

While Elliot was squinting his eyes and just staring at Arzen standing far away, Mary reached over and yanked down on his sleeve.

“Line up properly, Elliot. And keep your head down a bit.”

At Mary’s whisper, Elliot took a step back and shrank his neck in.

What on earth is going on?

“Your Grace, Lord Loran Pedet is arriving.”

Said a raven-haired man with a fierce impression standing next to Arzen. It was Luor, Arzen’s aide. His words were also meant for the servants standing behind them. Everyone grew even more tense and excited, straightening their postures. Only Elliot quietly lowered his head even further.

A moment later, an elegant and calm voice—the exact voice Elliot had heard yesterday—echoed from the front.

“This is my first time visiting you personally. I am Loran Pedet, Your Grace.”

Loran gave a polite, formal greeting.

“You must have been flustered by my sudden visit, so thank you for the hospitality.”

“The Sculpture of the Gods is quite self-willed.”

Arzen replied coldly. You could feel the servants’ embarrassment even through the silence. Elliot’s expression, with his head tucked down as far as it could go, turned bizarre as well.

Even the emperor wouldn’t dare treat Loran carelessly, and since this should be their official first meeting, look at that attitude. Truly the original story’s top…

“The hero of the empire is as impolite as rumored.”

Loran smoothly parried back.

“Because I can afford to be.”

“I’m in a position where I can afford to be as well.”

“A muse to mere religious folk surely shouldn’t be in a position comparable to a Grand Duke.”

“You haven’t stayed in the empire long, so it’s only natural you’d think that.”

A brief silence fell. An awkward sparkle of unpleasant tension snapped between Arzen and Loran, strong enough to make you feel like you could hear the servants rolling their eyes. Elliot cringed even smaller into himself, praying that the crossfire wouldn’t hit him.

“I am a member of the imperial family by all rights. Are you mocking the imperial family?”

Mocking the imperial family and treason were the gravest crimes in the empire. The atmosphere chilled even more sharply. Yet Loran tilted his head in innocent confusion.

“I am the Sculpture of the Gods recognized by His Majesty the Emperor. But isn’t it Your Grace who is looking down on me right now?”

Loran continued with a bright, sunny smile.

“Does that mean Your Grace is also mocking His Majesty the Emperor?”

This is too intense… their auras are way too strong….

Elliot slowly swallowed dry saliva. He didn’t want to do anything stupid like gasping for air in shock, choking, and drawing everyone’s attention.

For a brief second, Elliot thought Arzen might draw a sword.

However, Arzen turned away as if he didn’t want to waste another second on such a pathetic pissing contest.

“I don’t know what business you have, but let’s head to the parlor. If it’s nothing of importance, you’ll pay the price for dragging me out.”

“You can look forward to it.”

Loran said with a confident, self-assured smile. Their petty war of nerves thus concluded with Arzen making a concession.

Arzen walked at the forefront toward the parlor. As Loran began to follow, Luor and Henderson trailed right behind him like an escort detail.

The servants parted like the Red Sea, bowing deeply as they passed. Elliot was offering his greetings from the lowest, most submissive posture of them all.

Unlike usual, he didn’t want to enter the field of vision of the ‘Masked Grand Duke’—who had put on a mask and even changed his hair color—only to have his mouth permanently sealed shut. Nor did he want to make eye contact and attract unwanted attention from the idol of Lante, whom he had met just yesterday and received a heartfelt confession from.

Please, just walk right past like this, please….

He prayed inwardly like he was chanting a spell.

Right then, something came tumbling out in a flurry from the inner chest pocket of his uniform as he bent over with his forehead nearly touching the floor. It was a piece of candy and a few cigarettes given to him by a coworker a few days ago.

Elliot gasped aloud.

So this is really what happens when people panic… making such an idiotic mistake….

Mary and another maid bowing on either side of Elliot let out tiny, synchronized gasps at almost the exact same time.

“What is that?”

Passing right near Elliot, Loran cast his gaze toward the source of the noise.

Elliot squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his mouth tight.

It’s nothing, so please just walk away….

However, Loran’s gaze and question were by no means ‘nothing’ to the others.

The servants surrounding Elliot began lifting their heads one by one to check if the Sculpture of the Gods had just spoken to them.

Elliot kept his head buried in the middle of all that chaos like a baby rabbit who believes it’s completely hidden just because its eyes are covered. And ironically, that exact posture of Elliot’s caught Loran’s eye.

“You there, lift your head for a moment.”

“….”

“Hey, you. Brown hair. Are your ears plugged?”

“….”

Mary, who had been crouched down beside him, lifted her head slightly and poked Elliot’s leg with her elbow.

“Elliot! The Sculpture of the Gods is calling for you!”

Whispered Mary.

“Elliot…? Elliot Brown?”

This damn original-story bottom had painfully good hearing, too. Isn’t it an unwritten rule that protagonists in novels always miss all the important parts?

I genuinely want to pretend I’m not here.

Swallowing his tears internally, Elliot awkwardly lifted his head.

Standing right before him was a radiant angel. He could literally see angel rings sparkling amidst his well-conditioned, water-colored hair. He had seen it yesterday too, but it truly was an incredible face.

“Greetings, O… Sculpture of the Gods.”

Elliot greeted him as best as he could, mimicking a commoner meeting someone for the very first time. It was a greeting laden with an implicit, desperate urging for the other person to just play dumb and walk away.

“What’s this. Why are you here?”

Damn it.

Elliot wore the signature smile of a service worker that always popped up whenever despair struck. Misinterpreting it somehow, Loran smiled right back at him.

That was when it happened.

“Do you two know each other?”

Arzen’s voice abruptly cut in.

Ah… please, everyone just walk away right now….