A Scumbag Always Gets What He Deserves

6: Bandit siblings

After the carriage passed, Rege poked Lord Duncan's arm with his sword hilt and asked, "What is the Earl of Flowervale doing now?"

For some reason, he didn't dare look back at the other person's expression.

Lord Duncan, however, was watching with great relish and laughed loudly, saying, "Rege, you're really something! Those two heavily made-up menservants look ghastly. But it's a pity, the Earl of Flowervale blocked your attack with an umbrella. His response was very quick, nothing happened at all."

Hearing these words, Rege quickly turned around.

In the twilight, the man stood in the drizzle with the umbrella, his overly pale face radiating an inextinguishable luminance in the dim light. At this moment, he was staring back at them intently, his slender eyebrows twisted together, silently voicing the unhappiness in his heart.

Because of this prank, his already melancholic temperament seemed a few shades more somber.

He'd finally made the other party look squarely at him, but Rege didn't feel happy at all. Catching sight of this gloomy face made him feel chagrined.

"Back to Grande." In an instant, he lost all interest.

He rubbed his tightly furrowed brow, then looked at the pale and desolate face again. For a while he felt a bit at a loss.

The carriage turned around in the wide forest clearing and headed back in the direction of Grande.

Jian Qiao, who'd expected the carriage to return a long time ago, was still waiting by the side of the road, ready to block a second assault of mud with the umbrella.

But this time, Rege ordered the coachman to slow down and eventually stopped beside him.

"I want to know how you recognized me?" Rege poked his head out of the carriage window and said, "In Grande, there are two people who can casually wear silk shirts more expensive than gold, Rege Grande and Hall Grande. How did you know the person before you wasn't Hall?"

Hall Grande was his eldest brother.

Jian Qiao didn't want to speak to this childish man at all, but he carried all of Desolette on his shoulders, and that was a responsibility he could never shirk. He had to ingratiate himself with these great nobles in order to fight for the interests of his people.

So he bowed his head slightly and said in a soft voice, "In distant Grande there dwells a son of the sun. His eyes are blue as cloudless skies, and his hair is bright as pure gold. When you gaze at him from afar, sunshine pours into your eyes."

He lowered his head a little more and sighed. "The moment I opened the door and saw you I remembered that verse, a renowned poem written for you by a bard. So the person standing before me, who else could it be except you? "

Rege: "..."

At that moment, the inexplicable accumulation of bewilderment, irritation, anger, and remorse in his heart all completely vanished. He often heard words of praise that were more extravagant than this, but never once had they made his heart leap like a bird.

How could there be a person like the Earl of Flowervale in the world? He'd clearly spoken such words of flattery, but there was no hint of a flatterer's guile. He was too sincere, too moving, and in a few words all the unhappiness was soothed.

Rege had to press his lips hard to prevent himself from laughing on the spot.

"Congratulations," he said with pretended arrogance. "You pleased me, so that's all for today."

Jian Qiao gripped the umbrella handle tightly and responded in a gentle tone, "Thank you for your generosity."

Obviously, he was the one who'd been inconvenienced and humiliated, but because he had no power, he had to bow his head before the person who humbled him. This was the law of survival in Tortus.