Chapter 19
Joseph looked at his master as if he were witnessing something utterly bizarre. He kept pushing up his glasses, as if trying to process the surreal scene before his eyes, then finally opened his mouth, seemingly unable to stay silent.
“…Pardon me for saying this, but—”
“Then don’t say it.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
He asked in the most polite tone imaginable for such a rude question. Caon, who had been looking in the mirror, scowled.
“If you’re going to say it anyway, why preface it with ‘pardon me’?”
“Well, I do have a position to uphold. I can’t just come out and ask if you’ve gone mad, can I?”
Caon considered pointing out that changing the order of words didn’t change their meaning, but decided against it. He had a critical mission ahead and couldn’t waste his energy on such trivialities.
Instead, he turned to face the mirror once again.
Wearing a stark white doublet, a crimson cape, and a hat covered in bright red feathers, along with a thick ruby necklace and a red diamond ring—he certainly did not look ordinary.
To borrow Joseph’s words—yes, he did look a little crazy.
“Why not add earrings while you’re at it?”
“Oh, should I?”
“…Excuse me?”
Joseph, who had made the remark sarcastically, was startled when Caon actually reached for earrings. As Caon calmly began choosing a pair, his aide looked like he might faint.
Unfortunately, there were no earrings with red gems. Caon decided he was satisfied with what he had. He already stood out more than enough—it had the desired effect.
His goal was to be burned into everyone’s memory. Judging by Joseph’s reaction, he was confident that objective would be achieved.
“Let’s go.”
“…Dressed like that? I’d really prefer not to be seen with you…”
“I’m going ahead.”
Joseph resisted meekly, but it had no effect. He could only follow his needlessly bold master in defeat.
Caon paraded around the castle as if on a pilgrimage. Each time he passed by, people who usually greeted him out of habit did a double take and looked again, horrified.
“Oh my goodness! I-I’m so sorry!”
“No need to be. Carry on with what you were doing.”
He had gotten used to that response. People shocked out of their wits would fluster and bow apologetically. It had happened six or seven times already. By now, their reactions were familiar.
“Can we please go back now?”
“No.”
Joseph, wearing the most uncomfortable expression in the world and walking a few steps behind, tried once more to persuade him, but Caon immediately shut it down.
Walking boldly under the scrutiny of countless eyes, Caon suddenly looked up at a tower. The large clock hands pointed to noon. The moment he’d been waiting for had arrived.
“Let’s go, Joseph.”
“Yes, sir!”
“To the knights’ dining hall.”
“…Pardon?”
Just when Joseph thought the nightmare was over, his face darkened again. He’d looked miserable the entire time, but now he looked truly distraught.
“Master? That’s the most crowded place in the castle right now.”
“Exactly. That’s why we’re going.”
As always, Caon did not take his aide’s opinion into account. That location was where he planned to complete his mission.
During lunchtime, the knights’ dining hall was the most populated place in the entire castle. Hungry knights swarmed in after training, and extra castle staff were brought in to manage the crowd. It was chaotic.
As expected, the entrance to the hall on the first floor of the knights’ quarters was already loud. Caon stepped inside without hesitation, despite the tightly packed space.
Amidst knights clad in armor or training gear, Caon’s stark white and red outfit made him stick out like a sore thumb.
“What? I didn’t even try that hard, but I could beat that guy Henri with one finger!”
“Then how come you went down in one hit?”
“I let my guard down, that’s all!”
“Right, sure. You’ve got excuses for days— Wait, isn’t that Lord Caon?”
The first to notice was a knight seated near the entrance. Mid-argument with his tablemate, he gaped at Caon’s unusual appearance and nudged the person beside him.
“Hey, look over there.”
“Lord Caon? Maybe he’s here to eat with us.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what—”
The knight turned casually, then widened his eyes in shock.
From there, the murmurs began. One by one, people turned to look, their gazes following the ripple of attention. As the murmurs grew, even those who weren’t initially curious turned to see what the commotion was about.
And soon, everyone wore the same stunned expression as the first knight.
The pride of the knights, the elite warrior they admired and served—Lord Caon Ferdinand—stood there looking like a clown from a traveling circus.
The dining hall, which had been bustling with noise, fell silent as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over it. Someone broke the silence with a sharp whistle.
“Lord Caon! You look like the man of passion!”
It was Morris, another elite knight. He alone cheered amid the stunned silence.
Caon scanned the many twisted expressions staring at him and could practically hear their unspoken thoughts:
‘What am I looking at?’ or ‘Has our young master gone mad?’
“Off to a banquet, my lord? One where everything must be red? Sounds fun—I want to come too!”
Morris didn’t stop. He even waved his fists overhead like a child begging to be taken along. Caon had always thought he was a bit off—this just confirmed it.
Still, Morris’s comments shifted the focus away from Caon’s bizarre attire to its color. Caon seized the moment and spoke.
“As you can see, I’m very fond of the color red.”
His first words only deepened the awkward silence. Appearing like that and saying something so random—people simply exchanged bewildered glances.
“Some of you may not have known. I’ve never said it outright, so that’s understandable.”
Not that it mattered. People might be curious about the craftsmanship of his sword, but not his favorite color.
Caon never expected the knights to care about his personal preferences.
“But from now on, it’s worth remembering.”
At least for this moment—he wanted them to remember it. Caon gazed at each knight, each hesitant staff member, with clear intent.
“That I really, truly love this color.”
Even the dullest fool could now guess his true message. Word of his stunt would spread through the castle quickly.
‘I’ll get scolded for this.’
Baroness Robert was bound to hear of it soon, and she’d give him an earful. But he was ready for that—it didn’t matter. What mattered was that no one would dare whisper about Alessia again.
Feeling satisfied, Caon turned to leave. He had done what he came to do. All that remained was to tell Joseph to return his mother’s keepsake.
“Jo—”
The moment he stepped outside and began to call for his aide, Caon froze. In the center of the hall’s lobby stood Alessia.
“Alessia.”
She stood there with an expression he couldn’t begin to describe. It wasn’t simple shock at his outfit.
She heard it…
He didn’t know where she’d started listening, but it was clear she had overheard something. Her trembling red eyes met his before she stepped back and hurried away from the building.
“Alessia!”
Caon immediately ran after her.
Though he tried to follow her, Caon never managed to catch up. He couldn’t leave her alone, so he continued chasing her—until he arrived at her room.
It was inevitable. In all of Ferdinand, Alessia had nowhere else to call her own.
Was I out of line…?
Standing before the curtain, Caon shifted nervously. He hadn’t wanted her to face everything alone.
He knew exactly what kind of scrutiny she faced. He no longer wanted to pretend he didn’t.
All he wanted was for that small, fragile girl not to feel like she was alone in this faraway, unfamiliar place. He wanted her not to be sad just because she had nowhere else to go. He wanted to make sure no one dared treat her poorly again. He wanted to show her there was someone here who cared. So…
He wished she would want to stay in Ferdinand—just a little longer.
But even that wish might have been too selfish. Perhaps to Alessia, his actions had only brought her shame.
“Alessia, I…”
He felt he had to say something—anything. If he had hurt her, he wanted to make it right. Just as he began to speak—
The curtain was yanked aside, and Alessia appeared, glaring at him. Her lips were pressed tight, and her gaze was full of resentment.
“Let me expla—”
He had been right—she misunderstood. Caon grew more desperate and tried again to explain.
But then, step by step, Alessia came closer.
“…!”
And threw her arms around him.
Caon froze on the spot. His mind was a mess—he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.
He didn’t know how to react. He simply stood there, until he noticed the small body in his arms was trembling.
Pat, pat.
Hesitantly, Caon lifted a hand and gently patted her back. It took a long time for the shaking to stop.Two weeks later, Alessia’s first Monster Forest inspection was scheduled.
