Chapter 91

So, the person Oscar fell for was me…

We barely have any connection outside of the Duke’s mansion, so I honestly can’t understand how or why he developed feelings for me.

…Now that I think about it, the Crown Prince also caused a scene, claiming it was love at first sight.

“Saintess?”

These two guys, who act exactly the same, are both asking me about my own whereabouts.

I gritted my teeth, but I answered without letting it show.

“I’ll look into it. Don’t get your hopes up too high, though.”

“…? Yes, alright.”

His voice was tinged with doubt, wondering why someone as high-ranking as the Saintess couldn’t guarantee finding a mere maid. But I decided not to care.

‘I’ll just say she went on vacation.’

He’s going back to the Academy soon anyway. I’m leaving for the Imperial Capital tomorrow, so let’s just gloss over this.

“Is that the end of your confession? Then—”

“Ah, wait a moment. That’s not all.”

…?

“I actually have something else to confess.”

“…….”

“That earlier part was just counseling for my worries. It wasn’t a confession. It’s not like I was seeking forgiveness from Ralphican for that.”

My hopes of getting off work collapsed.

Regardless, Oscar shamelessly muttered to himself.

“Since you’re close with my cousin, perhaps you know about that incident?”

He spoke in a whisper, but in a confessional this cramped and quiet, it was impossible not to hear him. I was listening half-heartedly, expecting more useless chatter, when it happened.

“Do you remember the assassination of Uncle Robert—I mean, the former heir to the Ducal House?”

But the words that came out of Oscar’s mouth were about an incident I never could have imagined.

I remained calm and gave a standard response, saying I remembered it since it was one of the biggest topics in the capital.

“Is it certain that what is said in this room never leaks out?”

“Yes. Have you not come to confess? I am merely a listener. A bridge between you and Ralphican.”

“Then no matter what you hear, even if it is a crime… you’re saying you’ll keep it in confidence?”

“Do you think I would become the Saintess and not follow such basic rules?”

“Even if it’s related to your companion, Hereis Rubel?”

“…Of course.”

I carefully regulated my breathing to ensure he didn’t notice how shaken I was by this increasingly suspicious confession.

“I am a sinner. One who has… committed murder.”

“Pfft! Cough, cough!”

I ended up inhaling the wrong way at that bombshell.

The sound of my violent coughing actually made Oscar fluster.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah… I think some dust got into my lungs.”

The confessional was kept spotless, without a single speck of dust, even when it wasn’t in use. Oscar surely realized this, but he didn’t bother to mention it. It seemed he didn’t want to ruin the gravity of the conversation.

“I’m fine, so continue. Who did you kill? Was it Robert Rubel?”

“…To be precise, it was aiding and abetting.”

Oscar acknowledged with a brief silence that the victim was indeed Robert.
After Sera, the one who framed Belita, died, the case had fallen into a labyrinth.
Based on my testimony—specifically, the fact that Ralphican had openly declared Sera a sinner—she was labeled the sole culprit, and the investigation was lazily closed.
For me, who suspected someone had ordered Sera to commit the murder, that result was completely wrong.

“Did you witness the murder scene?”

“I didn’t see it directly. But I heard something.”

“You heard something?”

“Yes. It might be shocking, so please don’t be too surprised.”

Oscar warned me first, like a content warning for a gruesome movie. Then he complained quietly.

“Ah, seriously. I wanted to feel unburdened, but I didn’t intend to go into this much detail. Strangely, I just keep wanting to pour it all out to you.”

It’s usually easier to be honest and direct with a total stranger than with someone you know. Since we have no relationship and will never see each other again, he can receive an objective opinion from a perfect third-party perspective.

‘If it’s not that, it might be the influence of the system.’

Oscar’s affection level is currently a whopping 70.

Even if you looked at his emotions while doing a headstand, it was clearly love, which meant he felt a significant level of intimacy with me. It made sense that Oscar would be confused. His guard was dropping in front of me for no apparent reason.

“I’m not usually this kind of person… is it because I’m in front of someone holy?”

I heard the sound of him scratching his head.

“Anyway, you said absolute secrecy is guaranteed. So I can say it, right?”

Yes. So hurry up and say it. I’m getting dizzy here.

I was on the verge of exploding from impatience.

“…It was the winter before last. When I had returned home for the break.”

Oscar began his story, his voice turning somewhat distant.

The winter before last was one year before Robert Rubel was murdered.

For some reason, the home he returned to after a long time felt uncomfortable that day. He couldn’t sleep, so he went out for a night stroll to tire himself out.

By the time he had circled the mansion once, the sun was faintly beginning to rise.

At this rate, he wouldn’t even get an hour of proper sleep. He was about to head back inside to catch at least a little shut-eye when he saw it.

A room on the third floor of the mansion with a faint light glowing.

‘That place is…’

That room was the study of Oscar’s father, Carlo.

‘No way, does he work until this hour every day?’

Oscar knit his brows.

Carlo was a man so perpetually busy that he never seemed to have a single moment to spend with his family. Having attended the Academy from a young age, Oscar rarely stayed at home except during breaks; even then, Carlo always left the house before the birds could chirp. Oscar had always assumed his father simply went to bed early in the evening since he was so hard to catch a glimpse of.

‘How can a man who can’t even look after his own health call himself a doctor?’

Though he grumbled the words, a seed of worry took root in a corner of his heart. Perhaps that was why.

It was an impulsive choice to go see the father he wasn’t particularly close to—though they never had any major friction. He figured he’d say something like, “Don’t overdo it,” or ask if there was anything he could help with.

You know how it is.

The kind of things a normal father and son might say to each other.

Oscar walked toward the study, imagining those scenarios.

“Ro… brother… right…”

“Then we can overthro… can…”

…?

Oscar stopped in his tracks just as he neared the study.

Visitors at this hour? Who could it be?

A surging curiosity easily overrode his reason, which was screaming at him that he shouldn’t eavesdrop.

His hesitation was brief. Oscar swallowed hard and focused every nerve on erasing his presence.

As he crept closer, the voices grew louder.

‘I’m hopeless at combat, but at least I’m good at this.’

It made eavesdropping quite easy. He felt the effort he’d put into learning the skill had paid off.

‘Though I didn’t learn it to use it for something like this.’

“I’m thinking of Elise today of all days.”

“…The weather has turned quite cold, after all.”

“…It has.”

“Are you still afraid of fire, brother?”

“It’s bearable. So much so that I’m tempted to research the heat retention and diffusion capabilities of magic stones.”

“Since you’re making jokes, I suppose you’re fine now.”

The man’s voice, breaking into a low chuckle, was one Oscar knew well.

‘It’s Uncle Jeffrey. When did he arrive?’

Jeffrey Rubel. Born as the youngest of the Ducal House, he was a man who possessed everything—pure blood, striking looks, and the infinite love of the family—yet he was considered the shame of the Rubels for failing to establish himself.

He had long since stepped out of the line of succession to live like a vagabond, wandering across the continent.

Unlike Carlo, who was looked down upon for his “low-born” blood, Jeffrey had been given countless opportunities but did nothing with them, a fact that Oscar secretly loathed.

Well, still. On the days he occasionally showed his face, Carlo’s mood noticeably improved and the atmosphere in the mansion brightened. He seemed to have a way of making people comfortable; even the servants acted as if a grand festival was happening whenever they heard Jeffrey was returning.

However, right now, he didn’t seem to be grinning or playing lighthearted pranks as usual.
Judging by the conversation, they were reminiscing about his grandmother, so perhaps the somber tone was natural.

His grandmother had been his grandfather’s maid; she had become a concubine after becoming pregnant with Carlo. She was also the one who had passed her “dirty blood” down to Oscar.

‘It was around this time.’

The anniversary of his grandmother’s sudden passing. He didn’t know the exact reason, but he recalled hearing it was due to a chronic illness.

“Elise will be able to close her eyes in peace once this is over.”

“Still, I feel uneasy. To receive the title… Lord… and… Brother Robert…”

“I told you to steel your heart. Don’t worry about the small things.”

“But…”

Sweat began to pool in the palms of Oscar’s hands.

‘Something is wrong.’

He couldn’t hear everything perfectly because they lowered their voices intermittently, but the ominous tone and the blatant context were enough to understand the gist of it.

“Do we really have to drag Brother Robert down as well?”

“You know better than anyone that there is no other way.”

“I know, but if there was a better way…”

“You agreed to this plan knowing everything. Why act weak now?”

“…Jeffrey, I.”

Dragging down Uncle Robert for the sake of a plan?

“Think only of the fact that if this goes well, it’ll be good for Oscar too.”

“…You’re right. I must have lost my mind for a second.”

“It’s because you’re kind, brother.”

“…Would a kind man agree to a plan like this?”

“Ahaha! That’s true too.”

Burying the countless questions in his mind, Oscar fled.

He told himself he had misheard, that it was just a bad dream.

Once he resolved to pretend it never happened, it truly felt as though he had forgotten.
He didn’t even feel uncomfortable when looking at the faces of his father and Jeffrey.
And then.

“Today, our brother has departed to the side of the merciful Ralphican.”

‘…Forgotten, my ass.’

“Death is not the end, but a new beginning. Let us bless the path our departed will now walk.”

The memory surged back with vivid clarity.

Only then did Oscar realize.

He had stood by and watched a patricide unfold—an act he might have been able to stop.