Invitation

In a room prepared for a few special guests, a man leisurely leaned back on the sofa while sipping on his tea. Sitting opposite him, a golden-haired youth held a letter in his hands, reading through it quietly. Upon finishing the letter, Alaric glanced at the messenger who was sitting on the sofa.

"The banquet will be held in three weeks?"

"That's right."

To be invited to The Emperor's birthday party was both a gift and a threat. It wasn't something one could refuse, even if they didn't want to participate. 

"Uh..." Holding the letter, Alaric raised his head to look at the old butler standing next to him.

"I apologize, but it'd take way longer for the young master to prepare and depart on the journey to the empire than three weeks."

The messenger put down his cup, almost banging it on the table, and raised a brow, "Do you want to turn down the emperor's invitation?"

"T-that's not what I meant!" The old man hurriedly bowed his head. "I was just simply stating that the schedule will be tight since the letter was delivered a little bit late-"

"Are you blaming me for delivering the invitation too late?"

Ranger flinched once again, "No, sir! I won't dare!"

"Hah!"

The messenger scoffed, rose to his feet, and turned around, leaving the room without even caring to bid farewell.

"You guys must know your place, scums!"

Slam

The door of the guest room slammed shut as the man left the room.

"Than insolent- Haaaa!"

Ranger held back his curse while Severin grumbled under his lips, "Who does he think he is? He's just a messenger! A mere messenger daring to act so arrogant against the son of a count! How ridiculous! They think they can behave however they desire since the Empire is powerful and above our country! Tsk!"

"..."

Alaric watched them in silence with a helpless smile on his lips.

"Should I pack master's baggage?"

Ranger turned to the blue-haired servant who'd asked the question with a calm tune despite the heated atmosphere inside the room.

"Yes, Ian. Please start packing young master's stuff. You too, Liam, hurry and gather troops. We don't have much time to prepare so we should start right now."

"Yes, sir!"

Nodding his head, Ian picked up the empty cups from the table and walked out of the room.

'How should I know if the pills were poisoned?'

Once again, his thoughts went back to the probable murder attempt. Despite living a long life and having various kinds of knowledge, Ian didn't know much about medicine. He never liked the subject thus he never studied it much. He only knew the basics one must know when participating in a battle, and nothing more.

'I'm also not sure if it was the pills that were drugged or the tea... I also can't make it obvious that I suspect the doctor...'

He went back to Alaric's room while considering what he could do and could not.

'We'll leave this mansion to head to The Empire tomorrow morning. I'm not sure if they'll also send the doctor with us due to the events of this morning or not, but even if he comes along, it'll be easier to trick Alaric into drinking another tea and taking other pills if we are on a journey...'

While Ian was packing his master's clothes, Alaric came in and started roaming around the room, like a bored, disowned kid. 

"Ummmmm do you need any help?"

"...." Ian glared at the young man who was peeking inside the baggage. "No, master, everything is fine."

"Wouldn't the task end faster if I also joined?"

"...I can't allow my master to engage in these trivial chores."

"Mmm... But I'm so bored..."

The man walked away from him and paced the room, glanced at the other servants who were likewise prepping for the journey and returned to Ian's side.

'Should I change the drugs with the previous ones?'

That was also an option, to swap the new and old packages without anyone noticing. Ian ceased his thoughts, Alaric's gaze from the side was bothering him way too much.

"Are you guys packing up all of these for me, or are they for everyone?"

'What kind of stupid question-'

"...They are all yours, master."

Alaric glanced at the pile of clothes in front of Ian.

"Isn't it too much? I don't need that many clothes! Mister Severin over there is also packing a lot of shoes. Why would I need so many shoes?"

"...."

'Mister Severin...'

Ian stared at the man with a blank, impassive, and stoic face. Alaric didn't back out.

"Ah, it'd actually be better if you picked more books instead of clothes. I heard we'll spend a lot of time on the road, so it would be enjoyable to read books on my way there."

"...." Ian's expression remained unchanged, yet the young man in front of him didn't seem to care.

"Also, why is that old man, uhh... Ranger? Why is Sir Ranger assembling so many servants? That mister with a sword who kept following us around is too busy gathering soldiers too! Isn't it too many?"

"...."

'Sir Ranger... 'Sir' Ranger..?...'

Mr. Regressor barely stopped himself from scuffing.

"Hmm..." The young master hummed, looked around, and then leaned closer to Ian. "Since Severin and everyone else are really busy... and Sir Ranger is kinda scary and that swordsman mister is also difficult to approach... I'll ask this from you."

The blue-haired servant's brows twitched slightly, his face turning serious for the first time, "...What is it, master?"

He listened in anticipation, waiting for the man to speak.

"Ahem... Can't we..." Alaric lowered his voice even more. "Can't we not go to the banquet at all? Isn't there a way to avoid it? What if I say I'm sick? Can't we send their invitation back?"

"..."

Ian, who was studying Alarc's serious face the whole time, waiting for him to speak, wondering if he intended to talk about the peculiarity of this morning or give a hint about his probable regression, couldn't hold himself back after hearing him speak the most ridiculous thing he could ever say. 

"Young master I guess you need some rest," the servant huffed out a breath. "You seem to be still affected by whatever nightmare you saw this morning. Please stand back and refrain from doing anything," of course, he couldn't be too rude to his master even if he thought he was a fool and directly shout his thoughts to his face.

Alaric froze for a second, then raised a finger and opened his mouth as if to object, but closed it again after a second. He blinked once before shooting Ian a pained look.

"Politely asking me to shut up... You're so mean!"

He turned around and left Ian alone, much to the bluehead's delight.

'Why the hell would you want to skip The Emperor's birthday party? That's an opportunity to build up future connections and get close to powerful figures!'

And nothing good would befall the household from rejecting the invitation!

'But... was he pouting?'

Thinking back at the young master's expression, he seemed to be a little bit sullen, but there was no way Alaric would pout or sulk! Shaking his head, Ian resumed what he was busy with.

Ian's guess wasn't wrong.

"Join me if you want," Alaric murmured without looking at Ian. It was obvious that he was asking Ian to join him at the lunch table, but why did he have such a sullen expression?

'I guess Ranger doesn't have the time to punish me yet, hehe, let's enjoy it a little bit more,' Ian sat at the table, pleased. There were various kinds of food as usual, yet two things were added to the table and they were Alaric's newly compounded pills and tea.

As Ian dug into the meat, once again without waiting for his master to start first, he thought about the probable murder attempt and considered his options, 'What if I let Alaric consume the pills and the tea and then wait to see what happens? But if he dies today, I'll lose such an interesting change in this round!'

Ian couldn't take such a risk. He'd finally found something that extremely amused him so he didn't want to gamble on it.

'Then I guess there is only one way,' he reached out his hand and picked up a teapot at the other side of the table. 'If I can stop Alaric from taking these two together for today, I can find a way to prevent him from drinking the tea while we travel.'

The tea wasn't poison itself neither were the pills, however, they would cause a reaction and produce a harmful substance, something that would attack one's mana veins, inside the body which would cause the consumer's death. If the two weren't taken at the same time or right after the other, then the poison wouldn't be produced.

Ian filled his cup with the tea and drank it all in one go. Alaric couldn't drink the tea if Ian finished it sooner, could he? Ian didn't consume the pills, nor did he have any magic, so the tea would have no effects on him. He'd tried it many times in his previous lives.

While Ian switched between drinking the tea and eating anything on the table, Alaric was staring at the food with disappointment.

"How can these things fill one's stomach..." he muttered, putting a piece of meat in his mouth with a disgruntled face. "Isn't there some rice in this house?"

"You want to eat rice?"

Alaric poked the steak with the same grumpy expression, "Well, yeah. These things aren't filling at all. It's also such a waste to eat meat all the time... Why steak when there is rice, I mean... Can't you tell the kitchen to replace them?"

Ian drank the last bit of the tea while doing his best not to question the man's thought process. "I can tell the chef to cook you rice from time to time, but as it's something that can't be grown in our territory and has to be exported from other regions, it'll take some time and cost a lot. If you're okay with that, you should talk with the count and proceed with the proper preparation."

"....."

Alaric gaped at Ian with a frozen expression.

"...Nevermind." There was an unknown sorrow in his voice. Ian shifted his gaze back to his plate and was about to pick up another piece of steak when his hand suddenly froze.

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As if slamming itself to every corner of his chest, Ian's heart raced so fast and powerful that he could hear its beats. Every time his heart beat, a sharp pain pierced his chest. His breath stuck inside his lungs and his vision shook, blurred, and dark in an instant.

"Gasp!"

As his body curled up, the fork he was holding slipped out of his fingers. Pain, like endless tiny needles made of ice, thrust into his whole, paralyzing his senses and drifting his mind into blankness. A salty, hot liquid rose up inside his throat, threatening to block his breath.

Even with his mind fuzzy and foggy due to pain, Ian knew well enough what had happened to his body.

'Poison-'