Beggar Siblings - A Gamble
Leo, flustered, pulled on the carriage door several times, but it wouldn't budge.
‘He specifically said it would be unlocked?’
This wasn't part of the plan.
Aside from the Marquis’ intel suggesting an unlocked door, it was rare for nobles to lock their carriages while riding in them. Yet, the carriage remained stubbornly shut from the inside.
While ladies and some overly cautious nobles locked their doors, most male aristocrats found it cowardly and beneath them.
Truthfully, it was a convenient excuse born out of their arrogant laziness, sparing them the effort of manually securing the door.
"Hey, you! What do you think you're doing!"
Leo hesitated at the coachman's startled shout. Things were going sideways.
‘Should I give up? Or...’
Gritting his teeth, he focused on the shortsword in his hand.
Turning back wasn't an option.
Whatever the reason, one thing was clear: Torton Tatian was inside this carriage.
- Thud!
Leo thrust his sword downward with all his might. The blade pierced through the door, burying itself deep within.
A scream echoed from inside, the sensation of soft rubber against the tip of his blade. A chilling dread gripped Leo's hand on the hilt.
He wasn't sure who, but he had definitely stabbed someone.
Guilt? None whatsoever. His only regret was not the life hanging in the balance, but the lack of a better tool. A longer sword would have been ideal.
Leo immediately discarded the sword and fled.
There was no time to leisurely retrieve it. The longer it remained embedded, the faster the poison coating it would claim the life of his unknown victim.
He doubled back to the shop, slipping through the back door the merchant had opened for him and disappearing into the labyrinthine alleyways.
The targeted carriage sped off towards the Holy Cross Church.
* * *
The attempt was a failure. It wasn't a hearse that emerged from the church.
Furthermore, news of the assassination attempt on a nobleman, and by extension Orville's security detail, spread like wildfire. The city guard swarmed the streets like a disturbed beehive.
However, their frantic investigation was short-lived, concluding within a day. The coachman, the sole witness, remained tight-lipped.
The Marquis family refused to disclose the carriage or the sword lodged in its door – crucial evidence. This pointed towards a different conclusion.
Though unspoken, everyone understood: Marquis Benard Tatian had sent a message.
"I'm here to see the Marquis."
A few days later, Leo sought out the Marquis.
As usual, Marquis Tatian was seated at his massive desk, flanked by two knights. He dismissed one – a female knight who seemed to be hanging her head in shame – and spoke.
"My apologies. I had no idea she harbored feelings for my son. The fault lies with my inadequate management."
He offered an apology, but his tone was flat, devoid of genuine remorse. It was a curt notification, barely an explanation, causing Leo to narrow his eyes.
‘I don't believe him.’
The Marquis was playing him.
Leo doubted the female knight had acted on her own accord to protect Torton.
It was highly possible that the Marquis had instructed her to lock the carriage door, or had subtly manipulated her into doing so.
Even if, by some miracle, she genuinely cared for Torton and disobeyed a direct order, there's no way the Marquis would be oblivious. He would have undoubtedly assigned her to his son that very day.
Leo asked calmly, "How is your son?"
"He will live. He's recovering."
The Marquis feigned a remorseful expression.
Leo's blood boiled. He had been used to deliver an ultimatum.
Fury surged within him, but he fought to maintain his composure. "I understand. We'll have to try again. Inform me when the time is right."
He forced himself to be polite, as if it were no trouble at all.
The Rauno Family was nothing. A few knights dispatched by the Marquis would obliterate them overnight. He had to play along for now.
For all he knew, the Rauno Family might already be on the verge of collapse, swept up in the Marquis' schemes.
Leo exited the mansion, a mix of anger and fear churning within him. He glanced back at the imposing structure, a sense of his own insignificance washing over him.
The sheer scale of it all was daunting.
A high noble who commanded hundreds of servants, collected taxes from multiple cities, and held sway over thousands of tenant farmers across millions of acres of land.
Marquis Tatian's courtesy was nothing more than amusement.
It must be intriguing. A nobleman-like figure lurking within a den of filthy rats.
Leo felt parched.
‘I need to obtain that power…!’
Should he just give up? Should he resign himself to a life of petty crime within the Family, eventually finding a suitable husband for Lena and calling it a day?
Lena was close to Santian Rauno, the boss's grandson. He was a decent kid. A bit naive still, but he took after his grandfather – cautious and polite. Not a bad choice for a husband.
But that wouldn't clear the scenario.
He had been so close, yet it all went awry… Disappointment gnawed at him.
Not in the mood for a carriage ride, Leo trudged along on foot. The carriage fare, which he had been proudly paying, now felt burdensome.
[ Achievement Unlocked: First Death - The rate at which the player assimilates with Leo will slow down. ]
Over seven months had passed since the start of the scenario, yet Leo still hadn't fully become Leo. He wasn't sure if that was what was fueling his frustration.
‘Damn game!’
He cursed under his breath, kicking at the cobblestones. He was ready to explode.
Honestly, it was hard enough just trying to survive!
Even now, he was forced to work tirelessly for the Family's sake.
He had only managed to scrape by because of the rewards he had accumulated from countless repetitions of the scenario. Otherwise, this Leo would have died a beggar.
And then there was his sister.
Leo would have likely resorted to stealing from the market to feed his starving sister, only to be beaten to death. Lena would have succumbed to illness, drinking contaminated water from the gutters.
And why did Lena have to be so beautiful?!
In this barbaric world, the fate of a beautiful girl was sealed the moment she was born.
Leo was desperately trying to rewrite his sister's tragic destiny.
And there were no convenient {Events} to help him.
Wouldn't it make more sense for a prince or a nobleman to stumble upon a beautiful girl wandering the streets?
They'd whisk her away in their carriage, offer her protection, and eventually, they'd fall in love…
Lost in his furious thoughts, Leo bit his tongue.
Pain. Vivid and real.
The sharp sensation brought him back to his senses.
‘…Honestly, that's ridiculous.’
This wasn't some game. This was reality.
As if nobles had the time to spare glancing at the streets. Lena would be lucky to avoid getting run over by a carriage.
As Leo turned into an alley, deep in thought, a group of thugs who had been loitering there picked a fight with him, only to scatter in terror upon noticing his tattoos.
‘I need to use the Marquis’ power somehow. Going after the prince of the Conrad Kingdom is impossible. It's a lost cause.’
Leo had been gathering information about the Conrad Kingdom.
Officially, both Lena and Leo were deceased. And Eric de Yeriel, the illegitimate son born to a concubine, had consolidated his position as the sole heir, pushing aside the queen's children.
He had the backing of his maternal grandfather, Duke Rapert Tertan. The prince, with the support of his foreign relatives, had successfully ousted his half-siblings with stronger claims to the throne.
There was no resistance. Duke Rapert Tertan held the reins of power within the Conrad Kingdom, which, unlike the Bellita Kingdom, wasn't plagued by factionalism.
The King of Conrad had been bedridden for over a decade, clinging to life.
Even that was thanks to the priests who tirelessly devoted their divine power to keep him from death’s door.
Naturally, power had gravitated towards the sole heir, and Eric de Yeriel's ascension to the throne was considered a matter of time.
Upon learning this, Leo had abandoned any hope of reclaiming his birthright.
There was no opening, no weakness to exploit.
He was forced to grovel before Marquis Tatian, who was a step below Eric de Yeriel and Duke Tertan in terms of influence, and even then, he had only managed to pique the Marquis' curiosity.