Robin looked up at Rafa.

He was so tall that his face seemed to be attached to the sky.

“Is this truly the master's...?”

Could it really be?

For a fleeting moment, such a thought crossed Robin’s mind.

No, it couldn’t be. Such a notion would be disrespectful toward the master.

“But still...”

There was not even a trace of the master's appearance in him. Judging by his hair and eye color, he was undoubtedly of Klaus's bloodline, but he resembled Helga's twins far more.

Robin didn’t find that unpleasant or bad.

After all, the master had often lamented his lack of power.

Rumor had it that this man's abilities were unparalleled, even in the long history of the ducal family.

Seeing him, it seemed as though he had inherited even Helga’s talents. Perhaps Klaus’s prayers had truly reached the gods.

“Master, you always sought strength over beauty, didn’t you?”

Yet, at the sight of Rafa’s troubled expression, Robin suddenly realized:

“The eyes resemble his.”

Only a little, but there was something in his gaze that was reminiscent of Klaus.

When viewed again with this thought in mind, subtle similarities surfaced in his expressions and demeanor.

Yes, without a doubt, this was the master's son.

“Young Master.”

As he thought of addressing him so in his heart, tears threatened to fall.

Klaus, with his striking looks that attracted every woman, despised women.

More precisely, he harbored deep resentment toward them.

He had never shown this side of himself to anyone—not even to his father, the duke—but Robin, who had grown up almost like a sibling to him, knew.

“To think Klaus would leave behind a child...”

For a fleeting moment, Robin wondered if it had been Helga’s reckless determination rather than Klaus’s intention that led to the birth of this child, but he quickly pushed that thought aside.

For now, it was enough to rejoice in the appearance of the young master.

Robin didn’t know Klaus’s current circumstances, but if a child had been born, it must have been by his will.

Since childhood, Robin had always wished for something that could support Klaus’s heavy heart.

“To think I would live to see the master's son... I never dreamed such a day would come. I am overjoyed. Truly overjoyed.”

As Robin explained to the young master to prevent any suspicion that Klaus might have another son, he found himself recalling distant memories.

The first time he met Klaus was during his own infancy—a time even he couldn’t remember.

His father had told him the story.

As soon as Robin was deemed old enough to be brought outside, he was presented to the young Klaus.

Klaus’s first words upon seeing him, Robin had heard, were, “He’s ugly.”

It wasn’t untrue.

By the world’s standards, Robin was considered handsome, but compared to Klaus, he paled.

In fact, no one in this world could match Klaus’s standards of beauty.

“Yes, an undeniable truth.”

But when Klaus heard that the baby Robin was to be trained as his personal butler, he had looked at Robin’s face again and said, “Upon closer inspection, you’re rather cute.”

Robin’s father had repeated this story to him many times, ensuring he would never forget it.

From then on, except during the hours spent in rigorous training to become the future personal butler, Robin was always at Klaus’s side.

From childhood onward, this was his place. He was Klaus’s personal butler.

In the ducal family, “personal butler” was a title unique to their household. Unlike an exclusive butler, whose master could change, a personal butler served one individual for life. Their loyalty was not to the house but solely to the one they served.

At present, there were only two personal butlers in the family: Robin and his father, who was also the head butler.

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Robin’s father had originally served the duke as a personal butler before ascending to the role of head butler.

For generations, their family had served as butlers and close aides to the ducal house, with the head butler always chosen from their lineage.

Someday, when his father retired, Robin would become the head butler, likely around the time Klaus inherited the title of duke.

Robin briefly considered, “We’ll need to find a personal butler for the young master soon.”

His father would probably oversee the process, but Robin couldn’t help but feel concerned.

“Are there any children in our family of the right age? At most, they would only be two or three years old.”

A personal butler’s most important quality was loyalty, which is why they were chosen as young as possible.

Robin quickly ran through the list of children in his family but found no one suitable.

“If there are no good candidates, I might have to father a child myself.”

His father had rushed to conceive Robin after Klaus was born. But now, his father was too old, and it would fall to Robin to ensure the lineage continued.

“No, this isn’t the time for such thoughts.”

Shaking off his musings, Robin focused on the present. He had hurried here using the pretext of exposing an imposter claiming to be Klaus’s son, all to meet Rafa.

Robin had known from the start that the imposter was a fraud. His primary goal was to meet Klaus’s son before the duke did.

The ducal family was unaware, but Klaus had originally planned to return in three years.

Three years—enough time for dissenters to surface and reveal themselves. Klaus’s intent had been to sort out those who needed to be removed.

While Robin carried out this mission, Klaus ventured into the Forest of Magic and won over Helga, the most formidable subordinate.

That had been the plan.

But Klaus did not return.

Five years passed, then ten. Klaus never came back.

Robin worried himself sick. He didn’t think Klaus had died—Helga had been killing off every search party, so it seemed more likely that Klaus was being held captive.

Despite extensive preparations and deliberations, Robin concluded that Helga’s obsession with Klaus had grown beyond reason.

Countless times, Robin had been on the verge of riding into the Forest of Magic to find him.

But his master’s final command had been absolute:

“Do not follow me.”

So Robin had obeyed, tirelessly carrying out the duties Klaus had entrusted to him.

Year after year, he hoped, “Maybe tomorrow, next month, next year... he will return.”

For over twenty years, he worked with that hope in his heart.

But Klaus never returned.

Instead, his son, Rafa, emerged from the forest.

Robin believed the young master must carry a message from Klaus.

But as he anxiously repeated his identity as a personal butler, Rafa said nothing.

Perhaps there was no message.

Robin’s shoulders slumped as he glanced at Rafa.

“Master, truly, was there no word from you?”

He had everything prepared—lists of potential threats, incriminating secrets of various noble families. Klaus only needed to grant his approval to cleanse the family of its enemies.

But Rafa remained silent, and so Robin, too, could say nothing. Until the duke formally acknowledged Rafa, Robin had to pretend he was nothing more than a passing servant.

Resolving himself, Robin turned to the soldiers.

“Apprehend that fraud.”

The imposter claiming to be a son of the ducal family screamed as he was thrown onto a horse despite his broken leg. His cries were silenced with a gag.

Robin glanced at Rafa once more, seeking answers in his silent gaze.

But there was none.

***

As the fraud claiming to be an illegitimate brother was bound and thrown onto the horse, his broken leg caused him to scream in agony. The soldiers, unimpressed, gagged him, silencing the cries.

The name of the ducal family carried immense weight. To falsely claim ties to such a lineage was an unpardonable crime. Whether he had truly believed in his delusion or had knowingly attempted deceit, the result was the same—punishment awaited him in the ducal estate.

Robin’s gaze shifted repeatedly toward me. His eyes seemed to silently plead, though the exact nature of his emotions was indecipherable.

“What is it you wish to tell me?” I thought, feeling the weight of the man’s unspoken words.

Yet one thing became clear to me.

“The ducal family knows who I am.”

That much was obvious. Even if I had never officially set foot in the estate, the striking resemblance to my mother would have made my identity undeniable. It seemed they had no intention of eliminating me outright.

‘At least I’m safe for now,’

Robin cast me one last searching look before following the procession away.

Meanwhile, our group prepared to depart again. However, the coachman, pale and trembling, remained frozen in place.

“I’ve encountered magical beasts many times, faced near-death situations, but never in my life have I seen a pack of two-headed dogs descend like this,” the coachman muttered, his voice shaking as he fought to compose himself.

Behind me, Rella darted nervously. I realized that it might have been Rella’s scent that attracted the pack of two-headed dogs in the first place.

While the coachman struggled to recover, I turned my attention to the carcasses of the slain beasts. I began disassembling them swiftly, though there wasn’t time to drain the blood properly. Selecting the tastiest cuts of meat, I stored them in a sack and handed some to the coachman.

“Thank you... thank you, sir,” the coachman stammered, bowing repeatedly, his gratitude almost uncomfortable.

Knowing that the attack might have been Rella’s doing only made the coachman’s thanks feel more awkward. Rafa noticed that Tatiana, his companion, also avoided meeting the coachman’s eyes. She must have realized the same thing.

Several days later, after an exhausting journey, we finally arrived at our destination—a bustling city.

Though motion sickness had slightly improved, it had not disappeared entirely. By the time we reached the city gates, I felt as though even a light push might be enough to finish him off.

“The pen may be mightier than the sword, but motion sickness is the strongest of all,” I sighed wryly, barely holding himself together as the city unfolded before me.