Chapter 56

Bernard snatched the newspaper from Sean’s hands and began reading it in a rush.

His eyes shook as if the words were slipping away from his vision, making it hard to comprehend.

But the article’s content was unmistakable, and soon a curse escaped Bernard’s lips.

“Have these lunatics lost their minds? How dare they expose someone’s private life like this?”

Bernard immediately wanted to order a servant to find out which insolent newspaper had published this outrageous piece.

He would make them realize just who they had dared to cross.

However, academy rules forbade him from bringing servants onto campus, so he turned to Sean instead.

“Sean. Hey, Sean! Where the hell did you go?”

Quick-witted as ever, Sean had already fled the moment Bernard exploded in anger.

Now, only Bernard remained in the student council office.

“Isn’t there anyone out there?”

“I’m here.”

A deep voice answered from outside the door.

It was a voice Bernard had never heard at the academy, yet strangely familiar.

Bernard felt a sense of dread.

What? That voice shouldn’t possibly be here.

The voice outside spoke again.

“May I come in?”

“No, wait just a—”

“I’ll come in.”

The door burst open.

An older man stepped inside without permission. His face was instantly recognizable to Bernard.

“It’s been a long time, young master.”

“You’re supposed to be attending to my father…why are you here? Don’t tell me—”

“Yes, it’s exactly as you think. The Count is looking for you.”

Bernard’s expression hardened like stone.

“My father has summoned me to the mansion?”

“No. There’s no need for that. He’ll be coming here himself.”

“He’s already in the capital?”

“Yes, my son.”

The last words did not come from Sir Pellerus.

From behind the old knight, the person Bernard feared most in the world appeared.

“F-Father.”

“You worthless boy. From this moment on, don’t you dare call me father!”

The Count growled like an enraged lion the moment he appeared, and a chill ran down Bernard’s spine.

“Why are you here, Father? What about the territory? Didn’t you say you were busy with the tax issues lately?”

“I was already staying in the capital because of that very matter.”

“Then you could’ve at least let me know you’d arrived. Why barge in without saying a word…?”

“Do you call that speaking, Bernard?”

Bang!

The Count slammed his fist down on the desk, then noticed a newspaper lying nearby.

He snatched it up, crumpling it in his hand, and threw it in his son’s face.

“I sent you to the academy so you could at least make connections if you weren’t going to excel at your studies, yet you still haven’t fixed your ways? In the end, you’ve brought disgrace to my name!”

“Father! I’m just as troubled about this as you are! Since you’re here, can’t you deal with these newspaper bastards for me? Do I really have to suffer such humiliation as the Count’s eldest son?”

“You fool. The royal capital is nothing like my territory, where they tolerate whatever you do. This isn’t something that will be resolved so easily. Do you even know what kind of connections that editor-in-chief woman has pulled? Thanks to you, I’m the laughingstock of the court!”

“What? The laughingstock of the court? What do you mean by that?”

“You! Because of you! The major project I’ve been spending a fortune to lobby for is about to collapse! You worthless brat who brings nothing but shame to this family!”

“Father! What could I have possibly done so wrong for you to say something so harsh…?”

“What? You still don’t realize what you’ve done wrong?”

The Count whose anger was mounting let out a deep sigh, then shook his head as if giving up entirely.

“There’s no reasoning with you. Sir Pellerus.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Step outside for a moment. And make sure no one else is anywhere nearby.”

Saying this, the Count rose from his seat and began loosening his belt.

Bernard’s face turned pale at the sight.

“Wait! Father! Please, give me a chance to explain!”

“Wash the stench of liquor from your breath before you speak. I can’t stomach this any longer.”

Count Ordogne gripped the loosened belt in his hand like a whip.

Bernard began pleading desperately, bowing and scraping with all he had, but the Count kicked him, driving him back against the wall.

Bernard let out a duck-like squawk.

“Please, just this once, let me off. I’m sick right now. I’m already hurt from what Professor Winslet did to me…”

“What? You were hurt by Professor Winslet? What on earth happened?”

“Father! So you do care about me after all…”

“Did I not tell you, when you entered the academy, never to provoke that man? Now I see you never took a single word I said to heart. Fine. Here and now, I’ll tear that rotten attitude out of your body. Tell me, where is it? Where is that useless brain of yours hiding?”

Count Ordogne raised his hand, ready to bring the whip down at any moment.

Just then, the sound that saved Bernard’s life came. It was a sudden knock at the door.

Knock, knock.

“Haa… haa… Stay right where you are, face down, Bernard.”

Breathing heavily, the Count set the belt down for a moment, and Bernard let out a sigh of relief.

But it was only a brief reprieve.

When Count Ordogne opened the door to the student council room, the color drained once more from Bernard’s face.

Standing there was none other than Professor Winslet. The man who, just the day before yesterday, had etched fear deep into Bernard’s very bones.

***

“I hear your son has been causing you trouble, Count.”

Count Ordogne let out a sigh.

Then another, in quick succession. It was a clear sign of just how much he was burning inside.

“The rumors have already spread far and wide, so there’s no point in hiding it. Yes. Because of my foolish son, the matter I was pushing forward here in the capital has gone terribly awry.”

“You must be deeply disheartened.”

“What’s the use of saying it!”

The Count was seething with anger and agitation over his son, and even in front of me, he could not bring himself to rein it in. This was something he clearly found shameful.

A man who has lost his emotional balance was an easy target to handle.

I had done Jacqueline a favor for this very moment, using Rose Bly to create an unforgivable weakness in Student Council President Bernard.

And now, I would present an irresistible offer to the one person here in the most difficult position.

“I believe I may be able to help you, Count.”

“You? Help me? And just how do you intend to do that?”

The Count grew irritated at first, but quickly changed his tone.

“Hmm… very well. Let’s hear it.”

“First of all, we must deal with the newspaper that ran your son’s story.”

“Is that even possible?”

The Count asked. He was half-skeptical.

The Lambart Daily was owned by Rose Bly, and though this incident had been orchestrated between Rose and me, there was no way the Count could have known that.

I spoke.

“I’ve been living here in the capital for several years since leaving my hometown, and I’ve made many friends in high society. And high society is smaller than one might think. A few connections are often all it takes for everyone to know each other.”

“Can you get in touch with that woman, the editor of the Lambart Daily?”

“Trust me on this. There’s no harm in trying, is there?”

The Count, who had to find some way to contain the damage caused by his son in order to salvage the lobbying efforts underway at court, didn’t hesitate long before nodding.

A drowning man will grasp at anything within reach.

“You’re right. It can’t get any worse than this. In my position, if someone offered me even a rotten rope, I’d take it without a second thought.”

“I understand.”

“Then what do you need me to do for you to persuade the paper and that woman?”

“Leave that to me. But there is something your son must do.”

“Bernard? That brat?”

Count Ordogne shot a glare at his son.

Bernard, kneeling in the far corner of the room, flinched.

“First, your son must apologize for what he’s done and fully compensate for all damages.”

“I was already thinking along those lines. The victim’s name was Jane, was it not? I figure a contribution of about one thousand gold blancs for her medical and recovery expenses should be enough. Of course, I also intend to cover her tuition and provide a scholarship until she graduates.”

“That won’t be enough.”

“Not enough, you say?”

“Not just the victim of this incident. Bernard must also offer proper apologies and compensation to all the victims he’s bullied over the past four years since enrolling at the Academy.”

“What? This wasn’t the first time?”

Count Ordogne turned a blazing gaze toward the belt he had set down, and Bernard all but buried his head in the floor.

The Count struggled to rein in his anger and tried to reach a more practical compromise.

“Come now, Baron Winslet. Must we go that far? I worry it would be excessive to compensate even those who have nothing to do with this incident. Wouldn’t it be enough just to stop the newspaper from running the story?”

“Do you know what’s happening at the Academy right now?”

“I only just came up from my territory, so I’m not well acquainted with the affairs of the capital or the Academy.”

“Your son’s scandal has become the talk of the entire city. Those he’s wronged in the past are seizing the chance to ride the wave of public outrage and throw more fuel onto the fire.”

“Like a pack of jackals!”

“I spent all day yesterday identifying these people and gathering their personal details. It would be best to settle with them before the matter escalates further. If they provide material to the press, my efforts to persuade the paper will be far less effective.”

“…Very well. We’ll do it your way.”

“If you’re concerned about appearances, you don’t have to apologize publicly. But in that case, you must compensate them more generously to leave no room for gossip. And there’s one more thing you’ll need to do.”

“And what would that be this time?”

“I think it would be best if your son stepped down from his position as Student Council President. Just staging his resignation should be enough to put out the immediate fire.”

“That won’t be difficult. In fact, I’ve been thinking of taking this damned son of mine back to my territory for good.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea, either.”

“But tell me, Baron…what is it you want?”

Count Ordogne was no fool. Even as he accepted the favor I was offering, he still displayed a basic sense of political instinct.

“I know you, Baron Winslet, are not the sort of man to offer help for nothing. And I’m not so shameless as to expect it for free. So tell me…what can I do for you in return for handling this affair?”

I deliberately held back from answering right away.

Only when the Count’s expression began to tighten, as though he were barely restraining himself from swallowing hard, did I finally ask:

“Would you, by any chance, have need of a mage in your territory?”