Salvation Through Delusion C49

Chapter 49

“You’re behaving like a complete farce.”

Dr. Kim clenched her fist with deep-seated resentment. Solongo hurriedly handed her a vial of tonic.

“You should at least make that farce look dignified — it’s our only hope.”

Sighing, Dr. Kim took the tonic in one shot.

“Send back a formal letter saying we received the returned gifts. And casually mention that Rue will attend the 13th Month Club tomorrow.”

“But the Grand Duke would never attend the 13th Month Club. That club originates from the Divine-Beast clan Borhumi — Duke Borhumi Zab chairs it.”

Moreover, the Grand Duke was not a member; he could not enter without an invitation. Solongo’s doubt was reasonable.

“Even if non-members are allowed tomorrow, they wouldn’t admit the Koon Grand Duke without an invitation… why are you smiling?”

“You’d be surprised what people forget. They know the Koons occupied the throne for a long time, but they forget other details. Tyroc once sat in the position of crown prince, if only briefly.”

Ah. A small flash of realization crossed Solongo’s face.

“And occupying that seat automatically confers membership in all social circles — including the 13th Month Club.”

She accepted this, but then shook her head.

“But he’s no longer the crown prince.”

“True. In most social circles they would strip a deposed crown prince of membership. Cruel, really. But the 13th Month Club was different then; they did not revoke his privileges.”

At the time, Lantua Adeye — in the body of the young patient — could do little but read from her bed. She had read everything, including the newspapers, and remembered the circumstances clearly.

“The chair then was the late Duke Borhumi,” Dr. Kim murmured, “and no one knows why they made an exception. Maybe they pitied Tyroc, or perhaps they disliked the former emperor.”

Her voice trailed off, then a bright light sparked in her eyes as an idea occurred.

“You know what — shall we use this? We can prod Tyroc into attending the 13th Month Club.”

Dr. Kim produced paper and penned a letter meant to reach him directly. She wrote quickly, slipping in news of Rue as she went:

“Brother Rue plans a rare outing tomorrow and hopes to meet Grand Duke Tyroc. He insists there is something the Duke must hear — something he must hear by mouth. By mouth, you ask? Perhaps it’s something urgent.”

She finished with a wicked little flourish.

“However, since the Grand Duke is not a member of the 13th Month Club and did not receive an invitation, it is unlikely the two will cross paths. Watching Rue’s disappointment at that is almost painful; I comforted him that another opportunity will present itself.”

When the letter wrapped with those poisonous lines was finished, Solongo asked, “Do you think he’ll come?”

“If he has pride, he simply cannot resist,” Dr. Kim said. “Let’s see him make a spectacle tomorrow.”

If Tyroc reacted to Rue, nothing would be more delicious than that.

The 13th Month Club opened to non-members only on a single day each year, and even then only by invitation. The gatekeepers had a crucial job: to block anyone lacking an invite. Their security was tighter than usual that day. No matter who appeared, they would try to stop them.

“D-Duke Koon, do you have—an invitation?”

The guard stiffened at the figure emerging from the carriage. He mustered the courage to ask, but Tyroc passed without so much as a glance. Another guard stepped forward to block him.

“Grand Duke, this venue admits only members and those with invitations—”

His words died when Tyroc’s gaze met his. The Grand Duke’s smile — famous and cold — made the hair on the guard’s neck stand up. The golden eyes held an overwhelming force.

“O-oh, I-I’m sorry—”

The guard’s apology slipped out before he could finish. He stumbled backward, then hesitated as he remembered who presided here: Duke Borhumi Zab’s temper was notorious, and everyone knew he hated Koon Tyroc.

Just as the guard recovered his nerve and stepped forward again, a woman burst from the crowd and called out:

“Tyroc!”

She ran up, delighted. “My goodness, is that the Grand Duke of Koon?”

“Altan.”

Tyroc answered with the name, and the woman laughed heartily, tapping his arm.

“It’s been ages. People were whispering and I looked out the window — and it was you. You never come when I invite you; what’s this about today?”

“Just passing by.”

Altan didn’t accept the cool reply. She persisted:

“No way. You don’t just come ‘just because.’ What’s the real reason?”

Tyroc walked on, but Altan studied his face.

“Did you come even though you didn’t want to?” she teased.

“Altan, stop.”

Though his lips curved in a smile, his voice was as cold as ice. Most would have retreated; Altan only chuckled in curiosity.

“There aren’t many who can move you… direct Koon kin, perhaps, or powerful monsters?” she guessed, counting on her fingers. Reluctantly, Tyroc revealed the truth.

“I came to surprise someone.”

“Who?”

“Someone who believes I would never come.”

“Does that mean… Zab?”

Altan said the name carefully, glancing around.

“Is there trouble with Zab?” she asked.

“There’s always trouble with him. But I didn’t come to see Zab.”

“Then who?” Altan shrugged and laughed.

“Whoever it is, Zab will be beside himself. He behaves like a child when threatened with being upstaged. We might see a scene today.”

Altan’s eyes glinted with nostalgic mischief at memories from the academy. Tyroc regarded his expectant friend almost incredulously.

“Even if Zab is a ridiculous man, my presence won’t reduce him to a child.”

“No, he’ll lose it. Zab believes everyone should fix their gaze on him at all times — he acts like an emperor in this club. Seeing a true emperor appear will blow his mind.”

Tyroc’s gaze cooled at the word “emperor,” but Altan, never having known, simply brightened.

“This will be fun — come on in. Everyone’s here except Zab.”

“All here, huh.” Tyroc followed his friend and scanned the room. The earlier annoyance at Lantua’s provocation vanished, replaced by something else: curiosity. He wanted to see how people reacted.

How would Adeye Rue look upon seeing him? Would those lips of Rue’s speak some outrageous line? More than that, a shiver of desire ran through him — the desire to make those lips behave properly, to make Rue use them in the correct manner.

“Damn it.”

He muttered under his breath, watching the sky darken. He had been at the 13th Month Club for a long time now, and though he should disembark, his legs refused to move.

How many perverts would swarm inside? Perverts were easy to ignore — as long as they didn’t rush to grab his crotch. The real problem was that he could not purge them here.

‘Lord Rue delights in playing queen; those who wish to be punished, be warned — hands off.’

Solongo’s report sent a chill down his spine. The thought that he could not lash out at the perversities of the room made it even harder to go in.