Chapter 4

‘Why is this person here?’

Isis rubbed his eyes, wondering if he’d seen wrong.

What the man had thrown to Isis was none other than a banquet invitation.

Seeing the recipient’s crest clearly stamped on the luxurious silk envelope looking quite familiar, Isis looked at the man.

“Is this… really yours?”

With his earlier angry demeanor nowhere to be seen, Isis’s noticeably more cautious attitude made the man touch his chin thoughtfully.

“You seem quite skeptical. If you’d checked the front, you would have seen my family crest on the carriage. Ah, seeing as you directly asked about my identity, I guess you didn’t.”

“…The mud splashed on the carriage, so I couldn’t properly confirm…”

Trailing off ambiguously, Isis examined the crest on the invitation once more.

An eagle standing on thorny bushes.

It was none other than the crest of the Hilton Marquis family, supporters of the Empress Dowager.

Isis’s head tilted slightly to the side.

‘Strange. I thought the Hilton heir was studying abroad in the Eastern Continent. Has he returned already?’

“What? Is that not enough to prove my identity?”

“No, I just thought Winston Hilton was in the Eastern Continent… ugh.”

Expressing his doubts, Isis stepped back suddenly.

Though he hadn’t sensed any movement, somehow the man was now standing right in front of him.

Up close, the man’s build was larger than expected.

Although Isis himself was quite tall and even the top student in the Academy’s fencing department, he had never felt intimidated by anyone in his life.

Was it because of that height taller than his own and those shoulders spread wide at right angles?

Or was it because of the strange atmosphere the man exuded?

This man before him gave off an inexplicable sense of pressure.

“Eastern Continent? Ah, yes, I was there until a few days ago. But I returned early when I heard about the victory banquet.”

Swoosh.

The man raised his sinewy hand and slowly pulled back the robe covering his face.

Then, blue eyes flickered like those of a beast in the shadows before fading as the robe fell back completely.

The revealed Winston had light brown hair and burgundy eyes identical to Marquis Hilton’s.

‘What’s this? I’m sure they were blue eyes earlier? Did I see wrong…?’

Seeing a face different from what she’d expected under the robe, Letricia found herself staring intently at Winston without realizing it.

Perhaps sensing her gaze, Winston turned to look at her.

But he quickly turned away and let out a cynical laugh while standing askew.

“When they say the cursed prince who’s been holed up in the north is coming, how could I miss such an interesting spectacle? Isn’t that right?”

“Um… yes, well.”

When Winston asked as if seeking agreement from the passengers of the black carriage that seemed to have followed Isis, one who appeared to be the owner reluctantly nodded.

At this response, Winston’s red lips curved almost imperceptibly.

“Since that’s settled, well then. How else should I prove my identity to you, Young Master Esta?”

Winston, who seemed to have decided to stop looking down on Isis and treat him with the respect due between heirs, lightly tapped the Esta family crest carved on the carriage wall.

But while his expression was polite, his stiff tone only made the pressure emanating from him even more intense.

Bearing the full brunt of that sharp presence, Isis could be certain of one thing about Winston:

For whatever reason, this strangely unpleasant person seemed to strongly dislike him.

Otherwise, such formal speech wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable.

‘Damn. What did I do to deserve this? Don’t tell me he’s acting this way just because I didn’t recognize him and pressed him a bit?’

What a petty person. Barely holding back his harsh assessment of Winston from escaping, Isis forced a smile and shook his head.

“No, I must have been mistaken.”

Though something still felt off, if the person before him really was Winston Hilton, it would be improper to keep questioning someone of higher status than himself.

Above all, didn’t that hair color and eye color themselves prove he was the Hilton family’s eldest son?

At his response, Winston stroked his chin.

“Well then, let’s consider the introductions done. How do you plan to get out of here?”

“That…”

At Winston’s question, Isis was at a loss for words as he glared at the road blocked by two carriages.

He’d checked the situation himself just in case, but nothing had changed.

As the driver had initially judged, passing beside those carriages was impossible due to the narrow width.

While they could walk through the gap beside the carriages to pass through…

Swoosh.

Isis raised his gaze to look at the vague shape of the imperial palace visible through the fog ahead.

Though it seemed quite close by estimation, walking there seemed unreasonable.

‘Walking would be crazy, so we’d need to ride horses, but would that be possible?’

Isis’s face briefly brightened as he thought of this plausible alternative, but upon noticing his shoes caked with mud, he shook his head.

Horses? It was obviously impossible without even trying.

While the ground they stood on was relatively better, it got muddier ahead, and near where Winston’s carriage had stopped, their feet sank deeply just standing still.

Trying to ride horses over that? The result was obvious without seeing it.

‘We’d get firmly planted in the ground like spring saplings in a field.’

Moreover, since Isis’s carriage was also stuck spinning its wheels in the hole, turning back to find another route was impossible as well.

Damn it.

As the curse rose up, Isis messed up his hair.

Although he hadn’t wanted to attend today’s banquet, even he hadn’t imagined it would play out like this.

If they really couldn’t attend the banquet at this rate…

Just as Isis’s face was darkening in real-time as he recalled the punishments for disobeying an imperial command that had been drilled into him at the Academy,

An unexpected sound came from Winston, who had seemed to have no particular will to resolve the situation.

“It seems there’s no other way. Since it’s true that my carriage is blocking the road, I’ll help you get out of here.”

“…! Really? You have a solution?”

* * *

“If you had a solution like this, you should have told us earlier.”

“I tried to, but you were too busy running around everywhere.”

“Ah, yes. That was my fault.”

Clop. Clop.

Isis grumbled as he passed through the narrow gap beside the carriage on horseback.

While it would normally have been impossible to pass through this gap on horseback as Isis had thought, as if anticipating such a situation…

The horses pulling the Hilton carriage were fitted with special horseshoes.

Though he didn’t know what magic these horseshoes worked, thanks to them, the horses moved through the mud as lightly as if walking on flat ground, even while carrying two people.

“By the way, how did you prepare such horseshoes? They don’t seem to be commercially available.”

“I tend to be rather thorough in my preparations.”

‘Yes, yes. Of course you are. How very proper of you.’

Barely swallowing the sarcasm that threatened to emerge, Isis shifted his body.

This caused his leg to brush against the muscular thigh of his riding companion.

“Ugh. Please move away, it’s uncomfortable.”

“I’m comfortable.”

“No…! I meant I’m uncomfortable!”

“Ah. Is that so.”

Really, what kind of person is this?

Faced with a riding companion who seemed impossible to reason with, Isis looked ahead with a resigned feeling.

Since there weren’t many prepared horseshoes to begin with, it was impossible for each person to ride their own horse.

Therefore, they decided to share three horses between pairs, and Isis ended up sharing a saddle with the owner of the black carriage that had stopped behind Winston’s carriage.

Not wanting to ride with Letricia, and unable to ride with servants, he’d asked Winston Hilton to share a horse, but what had he said?

‘That would be difficult. I’d find it unpleasant to have my body touch Young Master Esta.’

And so, left with no choice, he ended up in this situation.

‘That unpleasant Winston, really.’

Glaring intensely at Winston’s back ahead of him, Isis shifted again.

‘Couldn’t tell because he was wearing a robe, but why is his body so big?’

Here and there, seeing only people larger than himself today somehow made Isis feel his pride being crushed.

So, as if taking out his frustration, he kicked Winston’s empty carriage beside him. It was an action taken assuming the carriage would naturally be empty.

“Hm?”

However, as if proving Isis’s assumption wrong, the carriage shook with a thump as if something had responded to his kick.

“What’s this?”

“What are you doing? There isn’t much time left until the banquet begins. Please hurry up.”

“Yes… well, we should go. We will, but… did I hear wrong?”

As Isis tilted his head at the urging from behind and was about to gently press his feet against the horse’s sides,

The carriage shook again with a thump. And this time, he thought he heard something as well.

“Wait, wait a moment. I think there’s something here…”

Finally sensing something strange, just as Isis tried to stop his horse, the carriage shook once more before completely sinking, and immediately a servant’s voice called out from the very back.

“We apologize! It seems the carriage sank further because we bumped it while passing!”

“Ah, I see. Why are you all so clumsy and noisy?”

“Sorry for startling you!”

When Isis turned his head with a frown, the servants bowed their heads while scratching the backs of their heads.

With such a straightforward apology, there was nothing more to say, so Isis pulled on his loosened reins and passed by the carriage.

“Everything’s so unsatisfactory today,” he muttered.

“We’re sorry. We’ll be more careful now, hehe.”

Having heard his grumbling, the servants kept apologizing while watching Isis’s retreating figure.

And when Isis’s horse had moved a suitable distance away, one of the servants dropped his smile and flung open the Hilton carriage door.

This revealed the real Winston Hilton, bound hand and foot and flailing like a live fish.

“Mmph! Mmph!”

“Ah, really. Just stay quiet for a moment, would you? As expected of a young master from a noble house, you have no patience.”

Seeing Winston gesturing wildly with his bound hands and making muffled sounds, the servant shook his head and firmly shut the door.

And the other Winston up ahead.

No.

The servants gazed with devotion at Grand Duke Heberus, today’s banquet’s guest of honor, who had stolen Winston’s appearance.

“You should consider it an honor that our lord borrowed your identity.”