Chapter Text
"Ron, do you think we can change fate?"
Looking up, Ron found his lady standing in front of the bed. The young master was asleep, clutching a pillow and babbling in his sleep.
Lady Jour always asked these kinds of strange, abrupt questions, usually with no real meaning behind them. If Ron was honest, Jour Thames was one of those people who could get under his skin: causing his hairs to stand on end and his senses to become hypersensitive. She was someone unpredictable, and that made her terrifying.
Jour seemed to see life differently, spending her days as if they were her last. I could die tomorrow, or maybe in a month, but at least I'll be able to say I lived fully, don't you think?
Ron wouldn't know, death was a concept that had blurred for him long ago. He knew he would die someday, but instead of actively looking forward to that event as the Countess did, he focused on surviving.
Maybe that's what the countess had. She had accepted death long ago and had dedicated herself to waiting for it; Ron, on the other hand, was doing his best to avoid it.
Had it been earlier, when he still devoted his days to holding his sharp daggers to end the lives of others, Ron would have been closer to death with that feeling of acceptance. He could have been killed at any time, and Ron left the dorm every day knowing exactly that. Every day could be his day to die.
But then he was filled with a feeling of revenge, and it tied Ron to life in some twisted way. He simply couldn't die without getting revenge on his family, without giving his son a good life now that they were away from that bloody world. Death was no longer an issue he faced every day, but the countess seemed to embrace the concept.
"I'm not sure."
He answered simply, because no, he didn't know if anyone could escape the fate the world had written. He had never thought enough about that. The Countess didn't seem to expect a real answer either, as she simply hummed.
"You know, there's a theory, that says that there are turning points in our destiny that we can change, like, the choice of what I want to have for breakfast in the morning. I can choose to have scrambled eggs for breakfast, but what if I choose to have toast for breakfast? What happens next can completely change the course of the world just by my choice. However, it is said that the one point we cannot change is death, but is death really inevitable? Don't you think that, if we can change points along our destiny, we would succeed in changing our death?"
Ron looked speechlessly at the Countess, who had turned to look at him with a pair of sparkling eyes.
"...Maybe?"
It was this feeling that Ron hated, feeling small next to the Countess and not being able to keep up with her thoughts. She had this ability to make him feel like a child who knew nothing of the world when he was obviously older than her.
Jour blinked, deflated with a sigh, and massaged his forehead awkwardly, "Sorry, I'm rambling again."
"Is there something troubling you?"
The Countess always asked these odd questions when she was worried about something. Jour smiled, looked at Cale sleeping, and then returned her gaze to Ron.
"I know I'm going to die, and I know you will die, but then why can't I know if Cale will die?"
Ron looked at the boy who had kicked the blanket away, "What does that mean?"
Jour massaged her temple, making noises with the toe of her shoe without worrying about waking the young master.
"I don't know. It's frightening. I don't like it."
Yes, Ron was feeling more and more alienated from this conversation, but there was something. Perhaps in the fact that Jour, as nonchalant a woman as possible, was frowning and fidgeting uneasily, which caused Ron to feel worried as well.
"He'll never die?"
That would be strange, the young master had nothing strange about him, nothing to show that he wasn't a human, so he should meet his demise at some point. Ron didn't know how the countess was so sure they would die, but he trusted her word because she never told a lie at the time Ron knew her.
"I don't think that's it. I just don't know. Will he do it? It's like it just blurs, but it doesn't cut off like ours."
Ron really wished he understood what this woman was talking about, but the point was that she didn't seem crazy, she just wasn't explaining it to Ron and was just saying things to herself. But with the things he was picking up on, he felt more confident about participating in the conversation.
"It's not a death then, couldn't it be avoided, whatever that thing is?"
Jour's head snapped up so abruptly to look at him that Ron feared he'd suffered whiplash, but she was gawking and looking exceptionally bright which made him feel a little self-conscious.
"Ron, I'm sorry I told you you were getting more gray hair - you're a genius!"
Ron avoided the grimace that threatened to work its way onto his lips and just sighed, watching the Countess pull paper and ink off the desk and write quickly. She signed the paper and pulled a bag that sounded like a lot of money out of a trunk.
"I will die. Here is my last job for you."
No, Ron could never understand Jour Thames.
Looking up at the night sky towering above him, Ron felt calm. Free, as he hadn't been in a long time. But there was still a sense that he shouldn't be here.
"We're getting close to the city gates, do you honestly think this is a good option?"
He turned his gaze to his son, who was carrying a bag with basic survival stuff and clothes. The boy was wearing simpler clothes than they wore on the estate, lending the appearance that they were from a family of tradesmen.
"The best place is where they think we won't be."
The Huiss Capital.
Who would think they escaped here? In the capital there were more people and information moved faster, there were more benefits here than hiding in a small town where everyone would be aware of the presence of new people.
When they arrived at the city gates, Ron handed three IDs to the guards at the entrance. They saw Vicross carrying a bag of camping gear, Ron dressed in trader's clothes, and the brown-haired boy sleeping in his arms. They let them pass with ease.
Jour had left the fake IDs and the potion to change hair color, she was a woman with more foresight than most. She had also given him a lot of money, and the property they were currently headed to.
"I bought this one in case I needed to hide at some point. Don't ask any more questions."
Ron wasn't going to, but he looked at the Countess in a new light. She was dangerous, possibly one of the main reasons Henituse County was so peaceful in the first place.
They reached one of the well-to-do neighborhoods of the capital city. The road was cobblestone and there were lamps on the sides of the street. The house the countess left was right at the end of the alley, with a large open field behind it that ended in a dark forest. Perfect for escape if anyone found them. And too exposed for anyone to even think they were hiding here.
The house was two stories with a spire-shaped attic, built with reddish bricks that gave a homey feel that Ron found amusing. It had a wooden fence and a small garden in the front. Inside it had a wooden floor with some rugs. There was a good-sized kitchen which Vicross began to inspect.
Ron walked up the stairs, removing his stealth, and listening to the creaking of the wooden floorboards. He ignored the second floor momentarily and climbed up to the attic. There, there was a bedroom: it had a good-sized bed with a nightstand beside it. There was a sofa under the window and a desk, there was also a rug with a small low table and pillows around it.
It was... much less than all the luxury that was in the estate, but with a warm and peaceful atmosphere.
Ron walked over to the bed and laid the young master...Cale on it. The boy frowned in his sleep but settled into the blankets with ease.
Going back down to the second floor, Ron found two other rooms and a study. He would let Vicross choose a room first. When he got down to the first floor, he found his son preparing their late supper.
"You didn't wake him up?"
Vicross asked, quietly putting away the third plate he was bringing out.
"Let him rest, there's been a lot going on these days."
The Count had given them the perfect opportunity when he left the estate and left the property alone. Leaving the county had been a piece of cake, but they traveled without a substantial break until they got here.
His son hummed, flipping the meat he had in a skillet. How his son had ended up aspiring to become a chef, Ron wasn't sure, but the boy kept improving and had been chef of kitchen #2 in Henituse.
"So what are we going to do now?"
That was a good question. Ron, for the first time in his life, had done things without a concrete plan in mind.
"We can start by getting a job."
He offered; because they could still survive for even three months on all the money Jour had left, but it wasn't feasible in the long run, it was better to get a secure source of income from the start.
"And work for others? No way. Why don't we open our own restaurant?"
Ron blinked, looking at the seriousness in Vicross's eyes. He couldn't help it, so he burst out laughing.
"Old man, quit laughing."
Even with the obvious annoyance in his son's tone, that didn't hide his red ears or his crooked mouth. Ron wasn't laughing at him. Not really. He was laughing at how this kid had more ambition than he did.
Ah, I'm getting old.
Doing mental calculations, Jour's money should be more than enough to buy what he needed to start the business. He didn't doubt his son's abilities, so they could make money with a restaurant.
"Where do you want your restaurant, Mr. Businessman?"
Vicross clicked his tongue, but his movements in the kitchen became more animated.
"Why not here? We don't need that much space, do we? We can also build a galley outside to set up more tables."
Ron looked back, he hadn't been paying much attention when it happened earlier, but the house had a fairly large living room and there was no separation from the dining room, so it was essentially an open space that they would just have to redecorate. The front yard also had a good amount of space, so it wasn't impossible to set up a good amount of tables.
His son had an incredible vision.
"We'll close late, what if the noise is a nuisance to the young master?"
Before his son could scoff, a sleepy voice came from up the stairs.
"What are you two talkin' about? Ron, why didn't you tell me there was steak?"
Cale rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, hopping down the stairs with little hops and approaching the kitchen. Vicross pulled the third plate from the cupboard again and started serving the food.
"We'll open a restaurant here. I don't give a shit if I disturb your princess dream."
Ron grimaced, preparing to intervene in the next fight these two brats would have, but Cale simply sat on a stool in front of the counter.
"I like the restaurant idea. But you have to find good suppliers, the price in the capital is higher. Plus, you have to design a good menu and calculate costs to price the dishes. We have to be the best!"
His son snorted, setting a plate with a large piece of steak and other side dishes in front of Cale.
"Why are you including yourself in the plan? You're just a brat."
Cale smiled, splitting the steak with his perfect manners.
"Exactly because I'm the brat of the family now, you must fulfill my princess whims in the future, hyung-nim."
Cale fluttered his eyelashes, laughing out loud as Vicross smacked his forehead with a white glove.
Ron looked at the two with a smirk on his lips. They truly looked like just a pair of brothers.
"What's this?"
Ron looked at the parchment with a sense of disbelief, then looked up to find Jour smiling with an amused look in her eyes.
"My last order to you. I expect you to fulfill it 100%."
This was too much.
"Kidnap Take Cale Henituse and live as you will."