“What?”

What came out of Arendt’s mouth was a surprising demand.

Cantares blinked.

“Why?”

“Why me? Or why is that necessary?”

“Both.”

“First of all, the answer to the first question is, you need someone to cause trouble, right? Or is there someone else who can do that?”

Arendt, who was saying that, seemed strangely pleased. On the other hand, Cantares was feeling his insides being ripped apart in real time.

The corners of the Crown Prince’s smiling lips began to tremble.

“And the second is, I need something. I’ll tell you why later. You can see it with your own eyes.”

Jereon, who had been looking back and forth between Cantares and Arendt, quietly intervened.

“…The training hall you used in the past is now empty.”

“Tell them to fix it. Tell them I’ll use it.”

“All right.”

Jereon answered quickly and looked at Arendt’s face again. It was still expressionless, but for some reason, a hint of satisfaction was visible.

On the other hand, where did his initial high spirits go? Cantares, whose face had become one full of complaints, ordered grumpily.

“My orders come first. If the matter is concluded satisfactorily, I will grant you permission to enter.”

“All right.”

A refreshing answer came back from Arendt.

Cantares grumbled.

“You’re so confident. Do you have some kind of good method?”

“That’s not true. But…”

Arendt paused for a moment and tilted his head slightly.

“If I try, anything will work out.”

Arendt’s golden eyes sparkled as he spoke.

Cantares stared at him with his mouth tightly shut.

The face, still boyish, was particularly difficult to read. At first glance, it seemed like he was wearing a playful look that suited his age, but on the other hand, he seemed serious, and in some ways, he seemed to have no thoughts at all.

Thanks to that, Cantares couldn’t help but feel a bit of anticipation and anxiety at the same time. Arendt had already confirmed on several occasions that he was strangely resourceful.

‘So, I’m sure he’ll bring the expected results.’

After Arendt left the office, Cantares stared blankly at the closed door for a while.

“Jereon.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Is this a good thing to do?”

He was a guy who could cause enough trouble even if he just stayed still, but what Cantares was doing now was close to setting the stage for him.

“Can I handle it?”

“You have to handle it. I clearly told you not to do it.”

It was a kind but firm response.

Cantares let out a deep sigh.

Anyway, the die has already been cast. Now all he could do was to wait for the results and do what needed to be done.

“Arendt.”

“Yes.”

Arendt responded indifferently to Laius’ calm call.

Laius was expressionless as usual. However, his eyes could not hide the fact that he was suppressing the many words that were welling up in him.

“You helped a servant who was in a difficult situation.”

“Not really.”

Laius tried to remain calm as he listened to Arendt’s emotionless response.

Helping the weak is the most knightly thing to do, but Arendt’s knightly behavior was like a cat declaring that it would eat grass.

“They said that Marquis Grieg is ill in bed.”

“His mental strength is so weak. I should have recommended some medicine.”

“…”

Laius began to press his temples, an attempt to relieve his migraine that was now quite familiar to Arendt.

A few days passed since his conversation with Cantares.

After that, Arendt often ran into Marquis Grieg in the palace. Every time, Arendt nodded and pretended to know him, and Marquis Grieg fell for Arendt’s light-hearted provocations.

After this was repeated about five times, the Marquis, who rarely had things not go his way in life, eventually fell ill with illness.

Rumors were already circulating in the palace. It was said that Marquis Grieg, who had been teased by Arendt, had fallen ill in anger.

Laius continued, rubbing his aching cheek.

“Anyway, be careful. If there are more enemies inside the castle, you’ll be in trouble.”

“It’s okay. I don’t really have anything to lose. It’s not so bad.”

But Arendt simply remained calm.

“Contempt is also interest.”

“What?”

That short answer contained the question that the polite Laius could not bring himself to utter: ‘What nonsense are you talking about?’

Arendt opened his mouth without changing his expression.

“Once you get the hang of it, there are a lot of ways to use it.”

“You’re using it?”

Laius frowned slightly at the words that strangely lingered in his ears, but Arendt dismissed them as insignificant.

“It would have been nice if someone had just burst out laughing. Anyway, since he’s sick, he won’t be able to come out to the palace for a while. Don’t worry, we won’t run into each other.”

It was fortunate that Marquis Grieg had not seen this sight, Laius thought sincerely.

If Marquis Grieg were to see this, he would certainly not just end up sick in bed. At the very least, he would collapse, coughing up blood.

“…Take your leave.”

“Yes.”

When Laius spoke as if he had given up everything, Arendt bowed his head as if he had been waiting for that and left the office in a flash.

Thud.

The door closed.

Laius let out a short sigh and leaned back in his chair. Arendt’s last words lingered in Laius’ ears.

“I wish someone would just burst out laughing.”

It couldn’t even be said jokingly that Marquis Grieg was popular.

Moreover, there were quite a few servants and attendants who had suffered humiliation from him. Perhaps that was why those working in the palace seemed to be delighted that the Marquis had misfortunes because of a mere apprentice knight.

At least now, it would be safe to say that there were few servants working in the palace who spoke ill of Arendt.

Laius groaned and groaned.

“There is never a quiet day.”

He turned his gaze back to the papers scattered on the desk.

The one on top was an official document regarding security arrangements for a banquet to be held in a few days.

Laius took a deep breath and picked up the papers, unaware of the schemes his superiors and subordinates were plotting at the banquet.

The weather was quite nice.

Arendt stretched and rolled his stiff shoulders.

“It’s comfortable since there’s no one to bother me.”

“Why do you look so light…?”

Suddenly, a dying voice heard from nearby woke Arendt from his thoughts.

He glanced around and saw Arthur, his face dark and dead.

“The weather is nice. I feel light. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“…”

Arthur glared at Arendt as if he was going to kill him.

The two were patrolling the interior of the palace together.

Despite some troubles, the palace was seemingly peaceful, so patrolling wasn’t much different from just a polite stroll, but Arthur’s face looked like he was dying from exhaustion.

There was nothing particularly strange.

He had been hanging out with Arendt more and more often than not, which had left him sweating profusely between the Marquis and Arendt for the past few days.

There were three or four times that he saw the Marquis and Arendt arguing right next to him. Arthur tried to break up the fight somehow, but these two people were not the type to be stopped.

“Who told you to interfere? Just don’t interfere.”

“Did you think I wanted to interfere?”

Finally, Arthur, unable to bear it any longer, screamed.

Arendt pretended to cover one ear.

“Be quiet. Why are you so excited?”

“If I leave you alone, who knows what you’ll do. If I take my eyes off you for a second, you might sell the palace and come back!”

“What am I doing? The Marquis is recuperating at home, I heard. That’s good. I won’t have to see him for a while. I’m sure Arthur will feel relieved too.”

“Do you have a face made of iron?”

Arendt walked leisurely, regardless of what Arthur was saying next to him.

Honestly, he thought it was a little, just a little bit too much, but there was nothing he could do. Since Marquis Grieg reacted so violently, he had no choice but to tease him in more diverse ways than he had originally planned.

Thanks to this, Arendt was able to spend the last few days feeling like a comedian.

A cocky jester knight and a foolish, greedy nobleman.

There was no better interlude to grab attention.

‘A banquet…’

Arendt put his hands in his pockets and shook his head.

He had a rough idea of ​​what was going to happen, but things were different, and the story wouldn’t go as he had thought.

‘There was no mention of the Marquis Grieg.’

The orders Cantares gave Arendt were the same as those Laius received in the novel, but the details were slightly different from what he knew.

The novel’s Cantares read the atmosphere of unrest among the nobles.

He also noticed that the money was flowing in a strange direction and tried to track it, but with the empire in turmoil, things didn’t go as planned.

So Cantares held a banquet, gathered the nobles together, and ordered Laius to watch their movements.

Laius discovered some nobles acting suspiciously. By following them, Laius discovered that the nobles were embezzling money through embezzlement and tax evasion.

All those involved were arrested. During the subsequent investigation, they all admitted that they had evaded taxes, but that they had been defrauded by someone.

And that conman…

‘Did he die?’

Based on the testimony of the nobles, Laius succeeded in catching the swindler’s tail. However, the knights who went out to arrest the swindler were met with only a cold corpse.

There was little the Knights could do in the face of a corpse that appeared to have taken its own life.

In the end, the investigation was closed.

‘That swindler must have been the owner of the garden the Crown Prince was looking for.’

Arendt shook his head slowly.

Now that the information about the ‘garden’, which was not in the novel, has been added, it may be possible to catch the conman who died at that time in good health.

‘It might have something to do with those broken heart guys.’

Since the conman died, the whereabouts of the money he had swindled were never known, so it was possible that it had gone to those who were preparing for war at the time.

Arendt, whose thoughts had reached that point, glanced at Arthur.

Arthur frowned as he met Arendt’s eyes.

“What.”

“No. Nothing.”

Arendt turned his head away, his expression faltering.

Arthur could be heard muttering something next to him. Arendt ignored the voice as usual and fell back into thought.

The change in circumstances presently was the result of Arendt’s desperate attempt to survive somehow.

The traitor who should have been executed was still teasing and making fun of the nobles, and this young knight who should have been mourned if things were going according to plan was still alive and well.

In this way, the story was steadily changing. Arthur, walking beside him, was the proof. More things would change in the future, and Arendt planned to actively use those changes to lead this story to victory.

Arendt took a big look around.

The palace was bustling with preparations for the banquet that would be held a few days later. Everyone was excited, perhaps because it was the first event in a long time, so, he thought he should also do some more preparations to keep up with the times.

In Arendt’s own way, different from Laius’s.

‘The bigger the board, the better.’

There was one more.

The future was changed by Arendt, and in this situation, there is someone who can use Arendt as he pleases.

Arendt’s lips curved.

Arthur, who had been watching him quietly, shuddered.

“What is that kid thinking now…”