*Darian and Reina made their way back to the carriage and continued the journey to the Blayland Dukedom. The journey took nine grueling hours. For Min-jun, who lived in a modern world where transport was fast, this was gruesome. The carriage swayed and bumped over every uneven stone. However, Darian's body seemed accustomed to long-distance travel, which was a huge relief for Min Jun..*
Eventually, they had reached the outer walls of the Duke's estate. The carriage moved forward to cross the gate. "Halt! State your business!"
A guard shouted, and another guard came forward to inspect who was inside the carriage. He saw Darian's face, he panicked, and rushed to the guard who halted the carriage. "It... It's Prince Darian!"
The whisper spread like wildfire among the gate guards, alerting them all. The "Trash Prince" had arrived at the castle walls. They reluctantly waved the carriage through, and they assigned a young knight to escort the vehicle so that Darian wouldn't get into trouble with anything.
"Are we there yet, Mr...?" Darain asked the knight with an exhausted demeanor.
The escorting young knight man, rode his horse closer to the glass window. "It is Edgar Warden, Your Highness."
"Ah, Edgar," Darian replied, leaning back with a bored expression. Feeling bored, He looked through the glass, inspecting the surrounding architecture.
The Blayland estate looked like a mash-up of every fantasy world background, loud vendors, women in markets, talking, laughing, strange items being sold that looked different from earth being sold at the market, and everyone seemed happy and cheerful.
Personally, I prefer seclusion. Min Jun thought himself yawning. I would have read something rather than riding around like this. It's really exhausting.
"Your Highness, we have arrived,".
Darian stepped out, stretching his limbs and letting out a loud, unrefined groan to relieve his stiffness. "Alright, let's get this over very fast. Let's meet the Duke."
As he walked toward the massive double doors, the workers paused in their work. Maids whispered behind their hands, and servants darted into secluded areas, their eyes wide with fear and terrified of what shenanigans the 'Stupid Prince 'might do this time.
"Well, it seems I am an uninvited guest here," Darian muttered, loud enough for Edgar to hear. "I am sorry, Highness," the knight replied.
"Whatever. I came to see the Duke, didn't I?"
A butler, dressed in black and white, approached with a bow. The act was a facade of courtesy. "Your Highness. Lord Blayland is waiting inside his office."
Is he that eager to see me this much? Or just keen to throw me out? Or anything else, Darian mused to himself. He gestured vaguely at Reinawho looked ready long, tiresome journey. "Hey, butler. My maid here is pretty much tired. Take her somewhere."
The butler blinked, his gaze at the exhausted, flushed maid. Immediately misinterpreted the situation, assuming the "Trash Prince" had tired her out throughout the journey. A look of disgust filled his face before he started to answer. "Yes, Your Highness. I will take the maid somewhere she can rest."
A female servant appeared and urged Reina away to the servant's quarters, casting a pitiful look at the girl. Darian didn't bother correcting them; let them think what they want, he said to himself. 'It's not like I should care about it either. '
Darian followed the butler down a long, grand corridor. There was a large number of paintings on the walls, but one stood out from the rest. He murmured to himself if it was the picture of Emperor Darian's father and the duke at their peak of their youth, standing side-by-side, like brothers in arms.
If they weren't such close friends, Min-jun thought grimly, this bastard Darian would be sleeping in a casket right now instead of an apology.
They reached the doors of the Duke's office. The butler entered first and then returned faster.
"Your Highness, you can enter now ." Darian took a breath, adjusted his messy hair, and stepped inside.
The room was imposing, filled with weapons and trophies of war; it was like a museum for war equipment. Sitting behind a massive desk was swordmaster Duke Ronald Blayland, one of the strongest people in the empire and a close ally of his male lead half-brother, Kayle.
His eyes were glaring at Darian with an intensity that made the air feel heavy. Min-jun could physically feel Darian's body trembling with fear, it's like a prey had met a large predator in a closed cave. An overwhelming killing intent.
His rage is justified, Min-jun. After all, what Darian did to his daughter, Min-jun calms himself and suppresses and hides his fear. 'Just atmospheric pressure. I have seen worse.'
"Greetings, Duke Ronald," Darian Said, his voice steady.
"Greetings, Your Highness," the Duke replied. His voice was calm, but Min Jun knew clearly that the duke was holding back an anger like a ticking time bomb, his knuckles white as he gripped the armrests of his chair. I should be careful with my words, else my second life will end here. He talks to himself .
"Well, I came here to make up for what I did to your daughter." The temperature in the room seemed to drop. The Duke's jaw tightened.
"I know your anger is justified, Duke", Darian continued, dropping the foolish act for a moment of seriousness. "And I know that saying 'sorry' isn't much. It can't solve what I did or erase the insult." He paused, meeting the Swordmaster's gaze with confidence.
"Still, I ask your forgiveness. Not as the Third Prince, but as the son of Roderic Valenhardt."
The mention of the Emperor, his oldest friend, caused the Duke's expression to flicker. He let out a long, heavy breath, and the killing aura seemed to calm down. He found the apology sloppy yet acceptable.
"Your Highness," the Duke voices his sound. "It is not me whom you must ask for forgiveness."
"I see," Darian nodded. "Then I must visit her."
"She is in the training hall," the Duke answers.
"Well then. See you around, Duke." Darian turned and left the room.
As the door shut, Duke Ronald sat back in his chair. He looked up at the portrait of himself and the emperor, a little younger than what was placed in the gallery.
"Well," he muttered in the empty room. "It seems he might actually change this time, for sure, Deric."