C3 Chapter 3 : I am Back (Part 3)

That stretcher… I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before, I murmured, scrutinizing every detail. My focus was yanked away by Aron’s harsh voice.

“Bastards! Even if you die here, the Emperor will never hold a funeral for you!”

I curled my lips into a smile. Now only as tall as my mother’s ears, I stepped forward with confidence, placing myself in front of her as a shield.

“Even if that’s true, what does it have to do with you? Isn’t the difference between us already clear? Imperial blood flows through my veins—what about you? I doubt my fate could ever be worse than that of a servant,” I shot back smoothly. A faint breeze fluttered the worn tunic I was wearing.

“You wretch—!”

Aron lunged forward, his voice trembling with rage. He grabbed a handful of my clothes and slammed me to the ground, then drove his right fist into my face again and again with brutal force.

THUD! CRACK! CRACK!

My cheeks snapped left and right against his hard knuckles, blood spraying into the air like scattered red beads.

My mother screamed and rushed forward to pull me away from him, but Aron’s friend seized her arm with all his strength, preventing her from moving freely.

My cheeks swelled; my vision blurred with each blink. Even so, I kept a thin grin on my face for Aron, who was shrouded in fury.

My expression froze when a shadow appeared behind him.

Suddenly, a hand gripped the boy’s head with effortless strength and hurled him away like fish feed.

CRASH!

A sharp impact echoed as the pale brown–haired youth’s body smashed into a wooden table, shattering it into splinters.

The figure stood calmly, boots of brown leather stepping soundlessly onto the green grass.

“Show respect to Lord Marquis.”

So my suspicion was correct.

As it happened, that stretcher belonged to Marquis Lucien Devereuq.

I thought this silently, glancing back at the stretcher that had stopped in the middle of the road. I was still sprawled there, miserable.

But why would he go this far?

Was it because I let Aron beat me?

Marquis Lucien looked down at me, his eyes scanning me as if assessing every inch. I lay stiffly, my face covered in swollen wounds.

“Arrest that boy,” he said, glancing toward where Aron had been thrown. He paused mid-step and continued, “I will report today’s incident directly to His Majesty.”

The man then approached Aron’s friend, who finally released his grip on my mother, his body trembling.

SLAP!

The sound cut sharply through the air. With a single blow, Aron’s friend collapsed effortlessly. The man flicked his hand, and one of the large, armored guards offered him a strip of cloth.

“Is there anything you would like to say to the Emperor?” he asked, wiping his skin, his cold, piercing eyes fixed on them.

My mother stood stunned, clutching her chest tightly, her lips trembling.

“Y–You are Marquis Lucien Devereuq?” she whispered, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

I grimaced as fresh pain burned into my skin. But I couldn’t just lie there. I slammed my fist against the ground to push myself upright. One of my eyes was sunken beneath a purple swelling.

“There is! Deliver my message!” I said in a shaking voice. I wiped the blood from the corner of my lips and pressed my hand to my stomach as I forced myself to stand. The pain hadn’t vanished—but it had been driven aside by something stronger: resolve.

“Tell my father this: either my mother and I are allowed into the palace, or we will leave the empire and migrate elsewhere.”

My eyes narrowed painfully as I stared sharply at him. Marquis Lucien fell silent. The stillness made me swallow hard; my heart nearly burst when sudden, booming laughter rang out like thunder beneath dark clouds. He wiped tears from his eyes.

“You are truly arrogant. Is it because I intervened just once? You haven’t forgotten, have you? His Majesty the Emperor has many children and many wives. What makes you think you are worthy?” he said bluntly. His fingers moved in tandem with two guards dragging away Aron and his companion.

“I’ve said what I needed to say. The rest is the Emperor’s decision. We can no longer remain here. You all know exactly why—some people prefer to watch from afar like cowards,” I replied clearly.

I saw one of Marquis Lucien’s eyes twitch. He clenched his jaw, releasing a rough snort.

“Very well. I’ll take my leave.”

He turned away after casting a sharp glance. His movements were befitting of a noble. His long hair, tied into a ponytail, gleamed golden brown as it caught the sunlight.

My mother’s hands gripped my shoulders tightly, her gaze darkened. I suspected what was on her mind, and for that reason I said, “Mother, please trust your son—just this once.”

At that, she narrowed her eyes but said nothing more. She picked up the wooden basket of clothes she had thrown at Aron earlier and murmured softly,

“You shouldn’t have behaved like that in front of Marquis Lucien, Cassian.”

I lowered my head, my hands clenched into fists.