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Chapter 17
It felt as though my entire body had been beaten—there wasn’t a single place that didn’t hurt. When I finally forced my heavy eyelids open after barely waking, I saw Calisto lying there in the bright sunlight pouring in.
He was sprawled face-down on the bed, his head turned toward me as he slept. His face was mottled red and bruised all over. One eye was darkly swollen, and his cheek had turned a deep purple, puffed up grotesquely. Even glancing at him from the corner of my eye made it clear how much pain he must be in—I couldn’t bring myself to touch him.
After watching him for a moment, I reached for the bell to call a servant. But perhaps sensing movement, Calisto suddenly snapped his eyes open.
“Hyung!”
He bolted upright and threw his arms around my waist, clinging to me tightly. His voice was completely hoarse and broken, as if he had been crying the whole time. I let out a small sigh and gently patted his back over and over. His small frame trembled faintly under my hand.
What happened today had largely been intentional on my part. I had deliberately provoked Ibri and led him into striking me. Ideally, it would completely ruin the partnership between Viscount Camois and my father—but even if not, I had at least intended to plant seeds of discord between them.
Still, I hadn’t expected Ibri—just a child—to act so violently toward Calisto.
In the end, it was my fault. Seeing Calisto’s bruised body made me feel uneasy.
“Calisto, are you oka—…cough.”
I tried to ask if he was alright, but my voice came out cracked and hoarse, dissolving into a coughing fit. The back of my head throbbed faintly.
“Hyung, does it hurt a lot? Then don’t talk! Talking will make it worse!”
Calisto panicked and gently stroked my throat. Even while coughing, I couldn’t help but smile. His tiny hands moved as if they were some kind of healing touch. Then he carefully picked up a teacup from the side table with both hands and held it out to me.
It was warm herbal tea mixed with honey.
“Drink this first. Doctor Woodson said you should drink a lot of it.”
“Doctor Woodson came? What did he say about you—”
“I told you not to talk! Why don’t you ever listen?”
“….”
He puffed up his cheeks and scolded me, despite being so small. I found it absurd and kept smiling as I obediently sipped the sweet herbal tea. The warmth spread through my body, easing me little by little.
Watching me carefully, Calisto asked in a small voice,
“Does it hurt a lot?”
“I’m okay now. Thank you.”
He looked far worse than I did, yet he only worried about me. It was both endearing and heartbreaking.
Before coming to the count’s household, Calisto had wandered the slums alone, so he didn’t know how to take care of himself. In the original story, he would later be abused by Etienne and grow into someone who couldn’t properly feel pain or suffering.
I didn’t want him to grow up that way.
Children should be able to say they’re hurting when they’re in pain and whine when things are hard. Gently cupping his cheeks, I examined his face.
“Let me see your face, sweetheart. It must’ve hurt a lot, didn’t it?”
“No. I’m all grown up now, so it doesn’t hurt at all….”
“Even if you’re grown up, pain is still pain. It’s okay to hurt. Just take the medicine Doctor Woodson prescribed and get better soon, alright?”
“…Mm.”
Only then did Calisto slowly nod. I brushed his bangs aside and kissed his round forehead. His already flushed cheeks turned even redder, like a ripe apple.
“Are you really okay? If it hurts, I’ll blow on it.”
As he touched his forehead, he quickly replied,
“…Actually, it hurts a little.”
“Where does it hurt the most?”
“My eye and my cheek.”
“Look at these bruises. That bastard. How dare he hit a child like this.”
“I’m not a child….”
Each time I blew gently over his bruised eye and cheek, his long eyelashes fluttered. Seeing him tremble like that made my anger rise.
Just as expected of a villain acknowledged by the original story—Ibri was rotten to the core already. Frowning, I muttered,
“Don’t ever charge at him like that again. You could’ve been seriously hurt. I’m going to get rid of that bastard.”
While I was applying the ointment Doctor Woodson had left onto Calisto, Count Wynyates came to visit. He looked quite shaken by the incident, his expression grim.
It was only natural—Calisto had been beaten, and I had been pushed and knocked unconscious.
“Etienne, how are you feeling? Doctor Woodson says you should rest for a few days.”
“My head stings a bit, but I’m fine. Calisto was hurt more than I was.”
“…I see. Calisto must’ve been in a lot of pain.”
The count’s gaze toward Calisto softened. It seemed he had already heard that Calisto stepped in to block Ibri and took the blows meant for me.
Now that the count was here, there was something I needed to address. After all, this entire incident had been orchestrated for that purpose. It was best to deal with it now.
Carefully watching his reaction, I spoke,
“Father… do we still have to take lessons with Ibri?”
The count’s face hardened immediately. Though he usually avoided showing displeasure, this time he firmly shook his head.
“Of course not. The viscount’s son is no longer allowed to enter Wynyates. A child behaving that violently… what if something worse had happened?”
“That’s true… We’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
Though my injury had been accidental, the fact remained: a viscount’s son had assaulted the sons of a count. Worse, he had viciously struck a much younger child like Calisto.
I was about to suggest a harsher punishment than a simple ban, when—
“I’ve already brought this matter before the House of Nobles. Once a ruling is made, appropriate measures will be taken against Ibri. Out of respect for Viscount Camois, it won’t be overly harsh, but some level of punishment is certain.”
“The House of Nobles?”
My eyes widened at the unexpected news. Given the count’s personality, I had assumed he would settle things with a stern warning.
If he had already filed a formal complaint, it meant he was prepared for an irreparable rift with Camois.
Still, it was better to be thorough. That viscount was like a leech—he might try to cling on under the guise of separating business from personal matters.
Feigning concern, I continued,
“Then… will things be alright between you and Viscount Camois? What about the new port investment you’re working on together? Wouldn’t it be better to end the partnership now? It seems risky to work on such a large project with someone untrustworthy….”
“You’ve been thinking about things like that?”
The count looked surprised. He clearly hadn’t expected me to know about the family’s business.
In the original story, Etienne at this point had no interest in such matters—he only schemed with Ibri to torment Calisto. Even as an adult, he remained ignorant of business and played a major role in the family’s downfall.
But this time, I wouldn’t let that happen.
Since possessing Etienne, my goals had always been clear:
First, raise Calisto well enough to avoid his death flag—if not a devoted male lead, then at least an obsessively devoted one.
Second, prevent the fall of the count’s family and secure a comfortable future.
If everything went well, I could live peacefully, occasionally visiting the adorable children born to Calisto and Lawrence.
To make that happen, I needed the count to take me seriously.
Putting on a serious expression, I said,
“This project requires a huge amount of capital. If it fails, it could destabilize our entire family.”
“…I didn’t realize you thought that far ahead. But Etienne, trade with the Eastern Continent is like a goose that lays golden eggs. If we establish a large-scale port in our territory, it will bring enormous profits for years—even after you inherit the title.”
At first glance, that sounded true.
The empire bordered a narrow sea to the south, known as the Inner Sea. Beyond it lay the vast Eastern Continent, and trade with it was booming.
Territories with ports that facilitated trade were amassing great wealth. However, existing ports in other noble territories were only small to medium in scale.
If the large new port that the count and Camois were planning was completed, it would generate profits incomparable to those smaller ports.
Naturally, it was an enticing opportunity.
But there was something the count didn’t know.
A few years later—just as the new port would be completed—a massive crisis would strike the Eastern Continent.
And the trade routes would be completely cut off.
