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Chapter 04
“You’d better fix your face, Shuknen.”
“You too, Father.”
Shuknen was the sole heir of the Douglas family.
Duke Douglas, Windsor, looked displeased at his son’s sharp tongue.
Shuknen had been a sickly child, confined to bed for most of his early years.
Out of pity, the servants of the Douglas household had spoiled him endlessly—and the result was the Shuknen of today.
An unruly brat who didn’t have an ounce of manners. Thinking he needed proper upbringing, Windsor had searched the kingdom for a renowned tutor. But none had any effect.
In the end, following the advice of Shuknen’s lifelong physician, Windsor chose convalescence.
“What Shuknen needs right now is not a tutor. He needs a change of environment—a peaceful countryside with clean air and water to restore his mind. It seems he overheard some things from the maids while growing up. It must’ve been quite a shock to him.”
“So you’re saying he should go to the countryside for treatment?”
“There’s no better cure than running around and breathing fresh air away from all the noise. If he stays here, he’ll keep hearing those things… and it might make him worse.”
That was the last thing Windsor wanted. His son, always causing trouble, had become a constant obstacle to his schedule.
It was always Windsor’s job to clean up Shuknen’s mess.
That meant delaying important duties and increasing the complaints from his aides.
Windsor wasn’t a man who had the luxury to focus on child-rearing.
“This is a place for you to rest, so try not to cause any trouble and stay quiet, would you?”
“Hmph. Rest? That’s just an excuse. You put me in this backwater place thinking it’d keep me quiet, didn’t you?”
Windsor rubbed his temple. The brat had seen right through the adults’ intentions.
He had never been the nurturing type.
But for his one and only heir, accompanying him to this backwater town was a sacrifice he could make.
The carriage was filled with towering piles of paperwork, but it was better than sending Shuknen alone.
Without supervision, there was no telling who he might bully, torment, or push to the brink next.
“Father.”
The carriage was now entering the town of Vanessa.
Shuknen, sulking and staring out the window, tilted his head.
Something outside had caught his eye.
Naturally, Windsor turned to look as well.
“What does that say?”
Windsor scoffed at Shuknen’s question.
This is what happens when you don’t study your native language…
The carriage jolted uncomfortably over the gravel road, adding to Windsor’s irritation.
Though he meant to answer with confidence, even he furrowed his brows at the unfamiliar word.
“Cheonghakdong?”
Difficult to pronounce—and a word he’d never heard before in the kingdom.
What does that even mean? That one sign was enough for Windsor to form a fixed impression of the town of Vanessa.
So it really was a countryside town. Must be a local dialect from the East. If even a man born in the capital like Windsor didn’t recognize it, it had to be an old regional term…
Hearing his father mutter, Shuknen repeated after him.
“Cheonghakdong? What is that?”
They’d figured out how to read it, but neither of them knew the meaning.
Still, Windsor didn’t want to lose face in front of his son.
He leaned back with a relaxed air, crossed his arms, and raised his chin.
Returning to his usual prideful self, the Duke of Douglas stroked his chin as he watched Shuknen stare out the window.
Well, it’s not like Shuknen would learn any dialect from the East anyway.
With that thought, Windsor finally opened his mouth.
“It’s a place for misbehaving children.”
“There’s a place like that?”
Shuknen’s skeptical eyes didn’t believe a word.
Annoyed, Windsor doubled down.
“It’s true. Kids like you who torment innocent servants until they quit—when they go there, they come back decent.”
“I’m the one and only heir of House Douglas. Who dares give me orders?”
Windsor pressed his forehead.
Confidence is fine when it’s earned, but in Shuknen’s case, it was just arrogance.
The boy clearly didn’t believe him.
Even if such a place existed, he was the son of Duke Douglas from the Kingdom of Nesheld.
The only people who could order him around—though he hated to admit it—were the royal family and his father.
Cheonghakdong? What a hick name!
Shuknen pouted, muttering about how every sign in the East seemed designed to scream “countryside.”
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“How many is that now?”
“Well… It’s been four days since we arrived in Vanessa, so… five.”
“Why five? Wasn’t it one a day?”
“Today it was two, Your Grace.”
Windsor pressed his temples. Convalescence, my foot.
Clean air, pure water, tranquil countryside?
Windsor made a mental note to fire the doctor who recommended this the moment he returned to the capital.
Or maybe he’d grab the man by the collar and shake him three times, at least.
After listening to Hugo’s report, Windsor became more convinced that every new wrinkle on his face was caused by his cunning son.
“What about replacements?”
“Word seems to have spread in Vanessa… No one is applying.”
Five. Five servants. The number rolled through Windsor’s head again and again.
“He made five people quit in just four days?”
The low tone of his voice betrayed how hard he was suppressing his anger.
Hugo merely gave an awkward smile, long accustomed to the distant relationship between father and son.
“Where is Shuknen now?”
“He’s folding paper with Jane, the only one he somewhat listens to.”
“Get him—!”
Bring him here. That little devil who chased off five servants already.
Windsor wanted to yell, but before he could, a knock interrupted them, and Max poked his head through the door, gesturing urgently.
“They’re waiting for you in Vanessa, sir. If we don’t go now, we’ll be late.”
Max was Windsor’s personal secretary.
Today was the day Count Vanessa had invited Windsor to lunch, hearing he was in town with his son.
With nowhere else to vent his growing frustration, Windsor stood up with a scowl on his face.
“Until I return, make sure that brat doesn’t do a single thing.”
“Pardon?”
“He’s not allowed to leave his room. If he makes even one more servant quit… I’ll remove him from the family register.”
“D-Duke!”
How could he say something so terrifying? Hugo called out in panic, but Windsor had already made up his mind.
There was a limit to how much leniency one could give. How dare that boy drag him out here with all this extra work?
Windsor issued his final warning and left for the Count’s estate with Max.
“Welcome!”
The Count and his wife greeted Windsor warmly, their affection obvious.
They eagerly flattered him, calling it an honor that such a noble figure had visited Vanessa.
Windsor remained unimpressed, but remembered Max’s advice—maintaining good relations while staying in Vanessa would be wise—so he wiped the irritation off his face.
“Thank you for the invitation.”
Formal pleasantries were exchanged. The Count and his wife led him to the dining room, saying they hoped the food would suit his taste.
The table conversation was empty and bland.
As someone who had already dominated the kingdom’s financial world, Windsor could tell the Count was merely waiting for him to drop a valuable business tip.
Seeing right through them, Windsor discreetly clicked his tongue.
“Oh, come to think of it, shouldn’t Ash be back by now?”
“It’s about time… He should be home soon.”
Ash? For the first time, Windsor’s previously indifferent expression changed.
The Countess noticed his reaction and eagerly began explaining without being asked.
“Ash is our firstborn son. The second is still too young and is being cared for by his nanny.”
“Ah, that’s right—you have two sons.”
“I heard Your Grace has one son yourself. Ash is seven this year. How old is your son?”
“He’s eight.”
With the topic of children, the heavy mood at the table suddenly lightened.
Unlike the business talk earlier, the Countess seemed genuinely delighted to discuss children.
“They’re about the same age. Your son must be at such a lovely stage right now.”
She clearly adored children, despite her elegant demeanor.
Windsor, however, could not agree. Not once in his life had Shuknen been at a “lovely stage”—at least from his perspective.
“But our Ash has gotten much better ever since he started going there.”
“Gotten better? Was your son unwell?”
The Countess, not noticing Windsor’s darkened expression, continued chatting merrily.
But her next words caught his attention.
He wondered if there was another sickly child like Shuknen—surely that one would be better behaved.
“Our son had selective mutism.”
“Selective mutism?”
“He couldn’t speak to anyone he didn’t have a bond with. He wanted to, but couldn’t. It was heartbreaking.”
It was an unusual condition. The Countess shared her past struggles tearfully, continuing to talk about her son without prompt.
“But after he started attending that place, he improved remarkably. He still stutters, but he can now express himself. His playmate, a girl named Selene, also attends…”
“Selene?”
Windsor latched onto the unfamiliar name, and the quick-witted Count answered.
“She’s the youngest daughter of Baron Tehoran.”
“I see.”
“She was quite a troublemaker. Baron Tehoran was worried sick, but she became much more gentle after attending. So we sent Ash as well—and it was the best decision ever…”
Before the Count could finish, Windsor shot to his feet.
The startled Count and Countess looked up at him in stunned silence.
This is it.
Windsor’s face lit up. He hadn’t expected to get such valuable information from a boring lunch. He’d finally found the kind of teacher he’d been looking for, right here in this countryside.
The teacher who could truly discipline the Douglas family’s troublemaker—Shuknen.
Famous tutors had all given up on the boy, so Windsor was desperate enough to grab at anything now. And here were two success stories.
Growing impatient at the couple’s hesitation, Windsor asked again, this time firmly:
“The teacher who taught your son and the Baron’s daughter—where is that person now?”
After being asked three times, the Count finally gave him the answer.
“C-Cheonghakdong!”
