Betrayal Knight's Joyful Faith

Chapter 265

But even that didn’t last long.Not long after they began arguing, Arendt groaned and collapsed.

“Ugh, my head…”

His fever rose again and his vision started spinning.

“Ugh, I figured it out when you were making a fuss. Just go to sleep. I’ll wake you up right away if anything changes.”

“I was actually planning to do that. Who was it making noise next to me?”

Despite making a displeased face at Arthur’s scolding, Arendt sluggishly crawled into the blanket.

After a while, a mumbling voice was heard from inside the blanket, which had become a caterpillar shape.

“I’m going to sleep, so you should leave too, senior. Don’t hover around and make me feel uncomfortable for no reason.”

“Ugh, you’ve got such an attitude when you speak. Fine, I’m going, I’m going.”

Arthur grumbled briefly and then got up.

‘This annoying brat.’

Arthur’s complicated gaze fell on the silver hair scattered outside the blanket.

Although his body was tattered, Arendt looked no different than usual.

As always, he was shameless and irritable, and as soon as he regained some strength, he started rubbing people the wrong way.

But even though it would have been quite a disturbing situation for anyone else, he acted as if nothing had happened.

But why was that?

As he quietly watched, he felt strangely uneasy.

‘Is it because his physical condition is not normal?’

It seems like there was something beneath that pale face that hadn’t been deciphered yet.

Like a tiny crack in a fortress built as solid as iron.

Arthur, who had been waiting in front of the door for no reason, left the room only after Arendt was completely asleep.

.

“…?”

Arthur, who was about to leave, suddenly raised his head at the sound of someone’s presence.

He noticed an old servant standing awkwardly across the hallway.

“Ah.”

He too looked surprised when he saw Arthur coming out of Arendt’s room.

He had an awkward expression on his face, as if he had been caught doing something bad.

“Your name was… Millard, I think.”

He was a servant who was here for a few days and had become familiar.

He was the servant who had worked in Count Eckhart’s household the longest, and seemed to be in a fairly high management position among the servants.

He took care of the knights who visited the Count’s house, and also delivered meals and potions to the room where Arendt was recuperating.

Millard nodded awkwardly.

“Good evening, Sir Norbert. Is there anything you need?”

“No, I didn’t really need anything… I just came out because the owner of the room said he was going to sleep and kicked me out.”

Arthur answered bewilderedly.

But the servant did not back down easily.

“Is there anything else he really needs?”

“What, don’t worry about it. He doesn’t have the energy to be picky about this or that. He’s probably pretending not to be, but he’s probably dying from pain.”

Although he said it jokingly, the old servant still looked displeased.

“I see….”

The way he muttered like that somehow made him seem drained or defeated

Only then did Arthur vaguely realize why Millard was lingering in the hallway.

“Are you worried about that guy?”

The old servant smiled awkwardly and bowed his head slightly.

“Haha… I’m sorry.”

His embarrassed face seemed to have hit the nail on the head.

Come to think of it, while the other servants were nowhere to be seen, this old man was the only one who would hang around Arendt’s room.

Even if he was doing something else, if he felt like something was needed, he would come running.

Arthur said curiously.

“Then you can go in and see for yourself. He’s still not in good condition, but it’s much better than yesterday.”

“No, how could I? How presumptuous. It’s okay, my lord… No, Lord Arendt would hate it.”

But Millard quickly waved his hands.

“I’m going to take my leave now. Just know that things will get better little by little. If you need anything, please let me know.”

“Hmm.”

A sneaky, wicked curiosity arose.

The other servants slowly avoided Arendt’s room as if it were a beehive.

Arthur was growing increasingly annoyed at the fact that even his father, Count Eckhart, did not show up.

Arthur, who had been thinking for a moment, avoided the servant’s gaze and told the lie in a very natural manner.

“…Now that I think about it, I feel a bit hungry. Do you have anything to eat?”

It was a technique passed down from Arendt.

The servant’s eyes widened.

Arthur continued speaking naturally, pretending not to notice.

“By the way, I can definitely listen to some gossip about that guy.”

Arthur, making eye contact with him as he blinked like a startled rabbit, smiled playfully.

“I have a lot to say as well.”

A while later, the two sat facing each other at a table in the corner of an empty restaurant.

Arthur started to speak as he stuffed the bread Millard had brought into his mouth.

“What was he like when he was younger? Was he a bit more well-behaved than he is now?”

The sharp answer came back from Millard’s mouth without a moment’s hesitation.

“Surely that can’t be the case.”

“…”

Millard burst into laughter as he saw the frozen knight.

“He had a very strong personality. Before he was even a year old, he would pull out this old man’s beard. When he was about four years old, he would play all kinds of pranks on the servants and it was very difficult. It was common for him to spill a bucket of water on himself as he passed by.”

“That temper was innate.”

As Arthur shook his head with a weary face, Millard smiled wryly.

“Still, he was really cute. When the Madam was holding the young master, who was about two years old, in her arms, it was a sight that seemed to be a blessing from the god Luce.”

The old man’s eyes widened like crescent moons as he reminisced about old times.

It was a description that Arendt, who was reluctant to believe in God, would have found offensive if he had heard it directly, but Arthur did not bring it up.

“Even that, after the Madam passed away from illness, became something we could never see again.”

Arthur blinked and asked cautiously.

“When was that?”

“It was the year when the eldest master was thirteen and the youngest master was eight.”

The Countess was a ray of sunshine to Count Eckhart’s household.

But the light went out in an instant.

“The lord really loved his wife. They were a loving couple like no other.”

“Really? I can’t imagine.”

When Arthur, who had been blankly staring for a moment, asked skeptically, Millard nodded slowly.

“Yes, isn’t it surprising? So the loss the lord must have felt must have been unimaginable. So…”

Millard paused for a moment before adding in a slightly broken voice.

“I guess he didn’t notice the little master who was becoming more and more different from his wife.”

Arthur’s hand, which was about to pick up the cookie, stopped.

“It is natural for a child who has lost his mother to be confused. How would the second son, who was already a sensitive person, feel…”

“…”

“The Count, who could not shake off the shadow of his wife, did the worst possible thing. Instead of comforting the second young master, he disciplined him harshly.”

However, there was no way Arendt would become someone like the countess.

As the emotional rift deepened, the relationship between the father and son reached its worst.

The young Arendt took out his anger on his servants, and within a few years, they completely turned their backs on him.

Millard tried to change Arendt’s mind even during this time, but it was no use.

In the end, he too had to be content with quietly walking away and wishing Arendt well.

“He must have been lonely.”

In the quiet restaurant, Millard’s lonely voice was engraved.

“I know I’m not qualified to say this.”

“…”

“So… I ended up asking the captain out of the blue if the Second Young Master… No, Sir Arendt, if he’s doing well within the Order. I’m so glad he said he was.”

The old man smiled faintly.

“It’s comforting to see that Sir Norbert is here with him.”

“…Well. I think it’s a little too early to let your guard down.”

Arthur lowered his gaze.

Arthur broke the silence that had been flowing for some time and opened his mouth.

“That guy is giving me a headache.”

It was a much lighter tone than the previous topics.

When Millard looked up, Arthur made a deliberately glum face.

“There’s no peaceful day because he causes trouble wherever he goes. If I take my eyes off him for a moment, he’ll run off somewhere. What’s the harm in telling me in advance?”

Arthur grumbled in discontent and went even further, crossing his arms.

“He’s so arrogant as an apprentice knight. He’s going to get hurt if he acts like that. Even His Highness the Crown Prince seems to be having a hard time handling him these days.”

“Come to think of it, I also heard that he was close to His Highness the Crown Prince. That was true.”

A sparkle appeared in Millard’s eyes.

“It’s a wonder he wasn’t arrested for insulting the royal family. He even seems to help His Highness with his swordsmanship sometimes, but I guess it’s teasing by using training as an excuse.”

He tried to pretend to be blunt and talk at length, but somehow his mouth felt dry.

Arthur added, his throat quenched with tea.

“At first, there were people who would come up to him and try to eat the crumbs that fell to the ground, but these days, no one bothers him because they think he’s just crazy.”

“Haha… I see.”

“For that reason, he’s strangely a person who attracts a lot of people. The little servants follow Arendt around, and His Highness the Crown Prince seems to be the most comfortable with him, so now I can’t even call him ill-mannered.”

Arthur was now imitating Arendt.

For the one and only audience member who has been anxiously watching.

“So, all I can do is follow him around and keep an eye on him. I don’t know what he’ll do if I leave him alone. Tsk, I guess I’ll be taking on that role for a while. I’m the youngest, aside from Arendt.”

“I see. Please take care of him.”

Millard just nodded his head repeatedly, seemingly pleased.

“As long as Arendt is in the Imperial Knights, he won’t have time to be lonely. He’s just as busy as His Highness the Crown Prince right now.”

But Arthur was not Arendt.

His acting reached its limit here.

“Therefore…”

The tone of voice that had been pretending as if nothing had happened suddenly stopped.

He was seething.

Regardless of his eccentric personality, it was because he realized where Arendt’s habit of not being able to rely on others and not expressing his feelings came from.

The reason Arendt seemed unstable now, regardless of his injury, must have originated from here.

It also made sense that Arcus was prostrating himself to such an excessive degree.

“…Now he doesn’t need the Count anymore.”

Millard’s face hardened as he listened to Arthur’s dry remark.

As if he had been slapped in the face.

“Yes?”

But Arthur did not take back his words.

Instead, he added, looking at Millard with infinitely indifferent eyes.

“If you get the chance, it would be a good idea to tell the Count that as well.”

The Count turned his back on Arendt several times when he needed him.

Now that Arendt had no need for the Count, there was no way he would ever return to the family or forgive him.

After a moment, Millard slowly lowered his gaze.

“I see, that’s right…”

He was silent for a long time, as if he couldn’t continue speaking.

Then, after a while, a hoarse voice finally emerged.

“Well, that’s a relief.”