"Oi, brat, how long do you plan to sleep?"

Shit, this annoying old man. While I covered my head with the comfortable sheets, the old man's voice echoed from the hallway. "How can you hear him almost from the other side of the hallway?" I wondered as the old man came in, kicking the door open.

As Bennett kicked into the room, his gaze shifted to the small lump that stood out in the middle of the bed. When he looked at the lump, a frown appeared on his face. This brat...

Bennett gave a sigh to calm himself; it was not worth arguing with a child who had lost his parents yesterday. As he approached, he spoke to the little bundle again, "Brat, get up, the sun is already over the tower," Bennett said as softly as possible.

Haaa, I'm too old to be acting like a grandfather now...

"I don't want to. Let me sleep a little longer, old man."

After the boy's answer, a vein bulged in Bennett's temple.

"A grandfather also has to be strict..."

"That...?" Raymond had a bad feeling after hearing the old man, but he didn't have time to process it.

"Get up, brat!" Like the charge of a wild bull, Bennett pulled the sheets where Raymond was entrenched.

"Uaaah?!" Raymond was thrown away. Even if Bennett held back, it was important to remember that he was a full-fledged high inquisitor. Even an elite soldier would have a hard time facing Bennett, not to mention a 12-year-old like Raymond.

"My lord, breakfast is ready..." As Gaspar entered the room of the new little tenant, he saw a scene he hadn't imagined. The little tenant was hanging by one leg, held by Lord Bennett, and the duo was engaged in a series of curses at each other. Upon hearing Gaspar's words, the two turned to the entrance of the room, observing the stoic butler at the door.

Cough... Seeing the always stoic butler at the door, Bennett felt a pang of shame. He, one of the top brass of the Theocracy of Verdeloth, was yelling at a 12-year-old boy. Looking at the boy who was hanging and staring at him with clear mockery, a new vein now emerged on the inquisitor's forehead.

But suddenly, a malicious smile appeared on Bennett's face. "Help the booger... ahem, my grandson clean up and change into something more presentable." While he corrected his small mistake, he carefully set the brat down, who was looking at him with a suspicious gaze. After approaching the butler, as if he remembered something, he looked back at the brat. "Oh, and don't forget to clean him thoroughly, he's been through a lot..." He could clearly see how the boy's face was turning into a grimace of disgust, which for some reason made the inquisitor smile more.

"This will be done, my lord. I will personally see to it that the young master is completely clean and presentable for breakfast." Watching the brat's face distort, Bennett nodded happily and disappeared with a small laugh.

That annoying old man... Watching Bennett disappear, Raymond did not forget to curse all his ancestors. But now there was something more pressing—a middle-aged man dressed in ancient robes, as if he had stepped out of a drama series set in the Persian Empire, was observing him. Without showing signs of emotion, the man implied he was alive only by his light breathing. He wore a dark green tunic with long, narrow sleeves and pants of the same color. On his feet were mainly green slippers with small purple decorations.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"Young master." After being called, Raymond came out of his thoughts and looked vigilantly at the man standing at the door. "Lord Bennett is waiting for breakfast, please accompany me. Your bath is already prepared."

Raymond, with a face of reluctance, looked directly at the man in the eyes and asked with a hint of hope, "Is it necessary for you to accompany me?"

And the man, without a single change of emotion on his face, said, "Yes."

"Young master, please stay still~." Under the watchful eye of the stoic man, the maids energetically cleaned Raymond's body, completely delighted with the assigned work.

For some reason, the boy was smaller than children his age. His hair was black like a starless night, and he had characteristic black eyes complementing his dark hair. His pale skin made him look like a porcelain doll.

Raymond, completely oblivious to what his current body looked like, gave the stoic man a pitiful look. Contrary to his intentions, that look only made the maids' smiles widen.

Gaspar, contrary to what he seemed with his stoic gaze, was very sensitive and perceptive to his surroundings, but he turned a deaf ear to his young master's request for help. Inside, he was also having fun with the puppy-like gaze his young master gave him.

"Mr. Gaspar, we have already cleaned and changed the young master~."

While the maids finished their work with big smiles, Raymond emerged looking lost, his eyes unfocused and on the verge of tears. Gaspar didn't pay him much attention at this moment; he was taken aback by the sight before him.

His young master emerged dressed in a green tunic typical of the nobles of the Verdeloth Theocracy, unlike the soldier's attire Gaspar typically wore. The tunic featured battle scenes engraved in purple embroidery, with two small suns embroidered in gold on the shoulders, characteristic of the House of Ardavan. The small slippers with fine lines embroidered in purple made him look like a fully-fledged young nobleman.

Not to mention his perfect appearance. Even Gaspar, for a moment, felt that the boy descended from a noble family instead of a small town on the border of the Theocracy.

Gaspar, that's this man's name... As we walked through the hallways, being guided by Gaspar, crowds of patrolling soldiers and servants bowed and saluted respectfully. At first, it seemed like they were bowing to me, but after deeper observation, it was clear that they were bowing to this man.

"Oi," I called out to Gaspar.

"Yes, young master?" As we walked side by side, he looked at me with that stoic face of his.

I looked him in the eyes and asked, "Are you a commander under that old man?" For a moment, I could see Gaspar's eyes, always immobile, narrow quickly, but since I was not sure, I let it pass. As I asked him, Gaspar continued walking and replied, "The Lord is waiting, young master."

"Tch, well, don't talk if you don't want to..." And so we arrived in front of a huge room that looked like the typical banquet room from a novel set in the Middle Ages. In the middle, there was a long table with lit candelabras. On the sides, there were balls hanging, lighting up—magic, I assumed. At the head of the table, the old man was sitting, smiling as he watched me enter. He was wearing the same dark green tunic as me, with the same embroidery and suns on the shoulders, but on his head, he had a kind of purple and green turban with a sun made of gold.

"Young master, your seat is ready."

While I looked around, Gaspar showed me where to sit.

"Tch," Gaspar trembled slightly at my click of the tongue, but I didn't give it any importance. Walking quickly, I sat down to the old man's right, watching him carefully.

"Brat, behave, we have guests," Bennett commented seriously. He knew that the brat was more mature than children his age, so the brat would understand the words that Bennett didn't say out loud.

"Tch, introduce me to more annoying people, you're an annoying old man." And how in response to his inner thoughts the boy spoke in a low voice, listening to him Bennett smiled.