*********
[WARNING! MENTIONS OF DARK THEMES WILL OCCUR IN THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE READ IT AT YOUR OWN RISK!]
*********
Behind him stood the second young master, Harrison, his usual carefree demeanor noticeably subdued.
And beside them—the eldest young lady, Felicity, whose posture remained as disciplined and refined as ever.
None of them spoke immediately.
Yet their arrival alone was enough to send ripples through the gathered nobles.
'We shouldn't have attended this,' Altron thought coldly as he stepped forward, his movements measured and precise. 'There are far more pressing matters to deal with than entertaining these greedy nobles.'
Still—
Protocol demanded their presence.
This was no ordinary gathering, after all.
A royal banquet.
Hosted by none other than the Crown Prince.
As the Chevalier heirs, absence was not an option.
'Tsk… what a tiresome affair,' Harrison thought to himself, suppressing a sigh. 'And here I thought something entertaining might come from tonight.'
Even he, who normally thrived on mischief and amusement, found himself disinterested.
The atmosphere was too heavy.
Too suffocating.
For once, he chose silence—walking in step behind his elder brother without a single remark, his usual teasing absent.
Felicity remained quiet as well.
Her expression unreadable.
The three of them moved together, each step echoing faintly against the stone pathway as they entered deeper into the garden.
Around them, whispers tried to rise again—
—but quickly died down under the weight of their presence.
The nobles, moments ago bold in their gossip, now turned cautious. Eyes averted. Words swallowed.
Yet curiosity remained.
Lingering.
Watching.
Waiting.
For what would come next.
'I can already tell what the Crown Prince is thinking… as if the Chevalier household would bow its head over such a trivial matter. Ha! Does that pompous prince truly think our household can be pushed around so easily?!'
Felicity maintained a composed expression, mirroring that of her brothers, refusing to let the nobles' whispers affect her demeanor. Her posture remained straight, dignified—befitting the eldest daughter of the Chevalier household.
Rumors may spread like wildfire, twisting truths into distorted narratives, but the three siblings held their own thoughts regarding the matter.
Yet there was one thing they shared in common—
None of them could forget what happened that night.
......…
............
...............…
[FLASHBACK] – A FEW DAYS AGO…
"Father… why don't we go and check on Mother and Little Three?"
The suggestion came from Altron, though even he did not fully understand the source of the unease settling deep within his chest. Despite the sudden surge of anxiety, his expression remained calm and steady before his father and siblings.
'I know he wouldn't harm Mother physically… even if he carries resentment toward her,' Altron reasoned inwardly. 'From what I recall, Little Three still recognizes her position as the Marchioness… he wouldn't act recklessly.'
And yet—
That unsettling feeling refused to fade.
'Still… something doesn't feel right. Why am I this anxious all of a sudden…?'
He frowned slightly, his thoughts tangled.
Unbeknownst to him, Harrison had already taken notice.
The ever carefree second young master, who usually wore amusement like a mask, caught the faint tremor in his elder brother's hands—carefully hidden beneath his sleeves. His sharp eyes missed nothing.
"A bit strange, isn't it?" Harrison spoke lightly, though his tone carried an underlying weight that contrasted his usual playful demeanor. "For non-blood-related individuals to seek each other out… under the cover of night. Don't you think so… Big Brother? ~~~"
Altron stilled.
For a brief moment, surprise flickered across his face.
He knew Harrison well—better than anyone.
Most of the time, his second brother spoke in jest, his words cloaked in humor and nonchalance. But when those same words carried intent…
They were never meaningless.
Altron's expression darkened.
'…That's it.'
A realization struck him.
'Damn it…! No wonder I felt uneasy!'
Harrison might play the fool, but when it came to matters concerning their household—or the stability of the Empire—his instincts were frighteningly precise.
Felicity's eyes widened as the realization dawned upon her as well.
"H-hey…!" she exclaimed, her voice tense. "We should go and check on them! Father! Eldest Brother! Second Brother!"
She was already moving before her words finished.
Altron followed immediately, rising from his seat without hesitation.
Harrison rose as well, though his expression had changed—no trace of his usual laziness or mischief. His gaze sharpened, his demeanor unexpectedly firm.
As the three siblings turned toward the exit—
They paused.
Their father had not moved.
Altron frowned.
"Father? Aren't you coming with us?"
Marquis Augustus remained seated for a moment, silent, as though weighing something unseen.
Before he could respond—
SLAM!
The door burst open.
An exhausted servant, clad in a butler's uniform, stumbled forward. His breathing was uneven, words catching in his throat as he struggled to speak.
"M-Marquis…! H-hah… p-please… t-the t-third young master… h-he was—"
That was all it took.
Augustus moved.
Without waiting for another word, the Marquis stood abruptly and strode out of the room, his presence carrying an urgency rarely seen.
The others snapped out of their momentary daze and immediately followed after him.
Time seemed to blur.
It took nearly an hour before the three siblings reached the youngest's quarters.
And the moment they arrived—
A roar shook the air.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS, MARCHIONESS?!"
The voice belonged to their father.
Fury—raw and unrestrained—rang through it.
The siblings froze for a split second.
They had rarely—if ever—heard Augustus raise his voice like that. Beneath his usual composed and indifferent exterior, such anger was almost unheard of.
Altron was the first to move again.
He stepped forward, approaching their father—and what he saw next caused his breath to hitch.
'…What in the…?'
The scene before him was…
Unthinkable.
Inside the room—
The Marchioness was positioned on top of their youngest brother in a manner that was utterly inappropriate—scandalous beyond words.
The boy's appearance was disheveled.
His eyes—
Brimming with tears.
Beside them, a servant stood restraining him—his arms locked, preventing any resistance.
"M-mother…!" Altron's voice faltered. "W-what… is this—"
He couldn't finish.
Felicity arrived next.
The moment her eyes fell upon the scene—
"MOTHER! What are you doing?!"
Her voice broke into a mixture of shock and disbelief.
Charlotte—usually composed and untouchable—had completely lost her poise.
"I-it's… not…! I-it's not what it looks like—!"
Her words came out disjointed, lacking the confidence she usually held.
And then—
"… sob… sob… N-no… i-it hurts… s-stop…"
*********