Three days later, Julian was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, looking like a soulless doll with pretty, odd-colored eyes.
What went wrong? He wondered.
He already received a confirmation from the system when he accepted the quest but... How will he get to the Dukeâs mansion?
Will he suddenly show up there and say, âHey, Iâm your sonâs new tutor or...?â
He shook his head.
Unlike the other quests that needed him to do this and that, this needed him to go to another place entirely. As
The North.
So maybe there was a procedure he needed to follow.
But then what was it? He was tired of staying in this mansion and being scorned.
"Huff," he let out a little breath, and then a knock came on the door.
He got up, wondering who it was and what they wanted, since almost no one came to look for him.
Even in the three months heâs been in this world, he was basically like a nobody. A wallflower that everyone ignored.
The only reason there was ever a knock on his door was if breakfast, lunch, or dinner was ready.
Such a life.
Once he opened the door, he saw a maid.
"The Marquis has asked you to come to his study." She said her piece and walked away without even so much as a bow or show of respect.
That was Julianâs standing in this family. Even the maids could disrespect him and not care about being punished.
Jowoon, who had a 21st-century mentality, definitely wouldnât care about such things. It was all flashy nonsense and unnecessary pleasantries anyway.
Itâs not like acting respectfully would change the way they actually feel about him. Heâd rather prefer this than have them pretend to be nice while he saw their true feelings displayed above their heads.
He quickly got ready and made his way to the Marquisâ study.
âWhy has the Marquis called for me?â he wondered.
Fredrick Von Astrea was Julianâs fatherâs name. Though he was a Marquis, the house was gradually declining, and of course, Julian was blamed for being the bad omen in the family, even when he did nothing.
It was a typical noble household affair one would see in every medieval fantasy novel.
He let out a small breath and then raised his hand to knock.
"Father, you wanted to see me?" He asked and after about ten seconds, he thought about knocking again when the Marquis finally responded.
"Come in."
The study was silent, save for the rhythmic, aggressive scratching of a feather pen against parchment. Julian stood perfectly still with his hands straight at his side, watching his father work. It was a familiar power play; the Marquis had been the one to summon him, yet he now acted as if Julian were invisible.
Julian shifted his weight, his fingers digging into the fabric covering at his side.
âHe called me here. Why isnât he saying anything?â he wondered, feeling angry at this situation. âI already know he is an unwanted child but does the Marquis have to go this far to show authority?â
This house was a minefield. As the fourth son born from a maidâs womb, Julian was a burden at best and a target at worst, caught in the wake of three older brothers who were currently trying to tear each other apart for the succession.
They used Julian as a venting material each time they were head over frustrated.
And then there was his stepmother.
He remembered the way the Marquisette sneered at him every time she saw his shadow. He was nothing but an unwanted stain on the family line. Being born of a different mother, and a peasant one at that, made him a permanent outcast, and that was why even the maids did not bow at him or regard him with respect.
They saw him as their equal.
âThis house is dangerous,â Julian thought. âI need to get out fast before one of them decides to simplify the family tree by removing me.â
Thanks to the passive skill, calm mind, he was able to stand his ground in front of any form of pressure and not lose his composure.
Suddenly, the scratching stopped. Julian felt a jolt run down his spine as his eyes met his fatherâs cold gaze fixed on him. He looked up, his eyes catching the translucent floating text above the manâs head.
[Affection Level: 15%(suspicious)]
It hadnât changed since the ball. But then, that âsuspiciousâ tag. Did something happen?
"Do you know why I called you here?" The Marquis asked, his voice cold.
"No, Father," Julian answered, keeping his tone neutral.
"There was a letter from the Alarik Duchy requesting you to act as a tutor to the Dukeâs son."
Julian felt a surge of internal joy. It was as if the moment he had accepted the systemâs quest, the world had rearranged itself to make his departure seem natural. Outwardly, however, he remained a mask of calm.
The Marquis leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.
"What have you been up to these days? The Duke is the Emperorâs brother. Why would a man of his standing know ofâor wantâmy fourth son?"
Julianâs mind whirred. He could feel the weight of the Marquisâs gaze, a heavy pressure that felt less like paternal concern and more like an investigator looking for a crack in a suspectâs story. But the weight was immediately lifted, thanks to his passive skill, calm mind.
This allowed Julian to think straight. The reason for that suspicious tag was this, wasnât it?
If he sounded too eager, his father would suspect some sort of a conspiracy. If he sounded too confused, his father might deny the request just to keep Julian under his thumb.
âThink, Julian. You were a teacher. Use the âModel Studentâ defense.â
His head shifted gears for two seconds and then he opened his mouth to speak.
"I was as surprised as you, Father," Julian began, his voice dropping into a tone of quiet, humble resignation. He lowered his gaze, staring at the polished mahogany of the desk. "However... I did spend several afternoons as of late in the Imperial Libraryâs restricted wing. I was researching the ancient linguistic roots of the Northern dialects. I believe the Head Librarian may have mentioned my studies to the Dukeâs seneschal during their seasonal audit."