The Price of Saving a Vicious Beast - Chapter 1

A lone carriage cut across the long, straight road.

Inside, a boy rested his chin on his hand, watching the scenery rush past.

His expression was steeped in boredom, far too detached for someone his age. Across from him, a middle-aged man stole cautious glances, as if trying to gauge the boy’s mood.

Fresh snow continued to fall over the thick blanket already covering the ground. After what felt like an endless stretch of white, a mansion finally appeared at the edge of the unchanging landscape.

“Your Highness… If you’d rather not go, shall I have the carriage turned back even now?”

The man finally spoke.

The boy’s gaze, which had been fixed on the window, slowly shifted toward him. Just that fleeting look was enough to make the man stiffen.

“If we turn back, will this ridiculous farce finally be over?”

A ridiculous farce. There was only one person in the entire empire who would dare describe an imperial order that way.

At Killian’s words, his attendant, Bertholdt, forced a strained smile, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Not exactly, but you seem particularly displeased today.”

Instead of answering, the boy stared at him as if baffled, then turned away again.

‘This was doomed from the start.’

Bertholdt swallowed the irreverent thought, stretching his frozen expression into an even wider, artificial smile.

Crown Prince Killian Nachtmann.

The ‘ridiculous farce’ the body spoke of was none other than the act of making friends.

Perhaps it was because he had been born to stand above all others. Even at the mere age of thirteen, the crown prince’s cruel and cold nature was already unmistakable.

Every playmate assigned to him in the palace had failed to last even a month. Though the imperial household tried to keep it quiet, unsettling rumors had begun to leak beyond its walls.

The emperor had personally reprimanded his son—but the boy remained unchanged.
And so, the emperor’s worries only deepened.

It was then that the crown prince’s physician proposed… a rather unusual treatment.

‘…Hah.’

Bertholdt let out a quiet sigh.

This was nothing more than a complete waste of time.

Being the crown prince’s playmate. It would be a position that guaranteed future success.

Those who had been assigned to Killian had all been keenly aware of that. And yet, even those who had fawned over him for the sake of their families and ambitions couldn’t endure his tyranny for more than a month.

And now, they were supposed to have him make a friend while hiding his identity as a crown price?

Without the prestige of his title, Killian was nothing more than an ill-tempered boy. No noble child, unaware of his true status, would tolerate his arrogance long enough to become his friend.

The physician’s suggestion was, at best, absurd.

After watching Killian with troubled eyes for a long while, Bertholdt hesitated before speaking again.

“Your Highness. As you know, even if the young count behaves somewhat disrespectfully, I ask that you be understanding. He has no idea who you truly are.”

Once again, Killian gave no reply. He simply stared out the window, his expression utterly uninterested.

* * *

At last, the carriage came to a stop before the count’s estate. Before the door could open, Bertholdt tried to reason with Killian once more.

“Your Highness—”

“I know.”

“I only meant—”

“Once I step out, I’ll be introduced as your nephew. I’ll hide my identity and pretend to play friends with the count’s brat. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

The sharp click of his tongue echoed clearly in the carriage.

Bertholdt nodded awkwardly.

“Precisely.”

“Then get down. Let’s finish this quickly.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Clearing his throat, Bertholdt opened the carriage door.

Waiting outside was Count Eport himself, along with the members of his household, lined up neatly.

Greetings were exchanged.

The count, who had expected only the attendant’s visit, naturally turned his gaze toward Killian. Bertholdt introduced the boy standing beside him.

“He is my nephew. I’ll be overseeing his education for the time being. He’s two years younger than your son, but as he rarely has the chance to meet children his age, I thought it might be a good opportunity for them to at least make acquaintances.”

“I see. Roem, come here.”

The count accepted the explanation without suspicion and called for his son.

At his guileless reaction, Bertholdt let out a quiet, inward scoff.

To arrive suddenly with an unannounced nephew—most would suspect some hidden motive.

But then again, perhaps that was why a man like this, despite holding a respectable title, had never managed to build influence in the aristocratic council… lingering instead at the fringes of power.