The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] novel Chapter 525

Chapter 525: Little Secret

Honestly, there was a lot more where that came from.

And if they unpacked all of it now, he wasn’t sure any of them would still be standing by the end.

Because never, not even in his darkest and most paranoid moments, did Duke Leander ever think his precious boy had carried that much on his own.

Trauma.

Not the faceless kind, like corruption, which at least could be fought, cut away, burned clean.

Even corruption, for all its ugliness, had been kinder to his boy. At least that black gunk of death had contributed to his son’s current triumphs.

But those people.

No, those monsters.

Those fucking bastards?!

Duke Leander could not even put his fury into words. His breath came hot and ragged, his fists clenched until his knuckles hurt, heat rolling through him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes like fire threatening to consume him whole.

Shock.

Rage.

Heartbreak.

The words blurred together as he listened to Amelia speak. Each sentence pressed down on his chest, heavier than the last, until it felt like the weight of the entire world was crushing him.

And the worst part of it all?

She hadn’t even gone into detail. She didn’t have to. He could already feel it, already picture it.

And that broke him even more, knowing she had carried this knowledge alone all this time, quietly, because even now she could not bring herself to say everything aloud.

Leander felt like a fraud.

He called himself a father. Said he would always protect his son.

And even now, he spoke of protecting him from thieving wolves when clearly, he hadn’t been able to do anything when he actually needed protection.

Heck, he hadn’t even been there.

He had failed him.

And there it was, that heavy and suffocating feeling he hated above all others. The one he could never escape or deny.

Guilt.

Crushing and bitter guilt.

And beneath it, gnawing at him just as mercilessly, was helplessness.

He clenched his fists tighter, staring at the floor as his heart cracked under the weight of what he could never undo.

Meanwhile, Duchess Amelia could tell exactly what her husband was thinking, because she had been thinking the same thing.

It was the same reason she had not been able to bring herself to tell him everything she learned about Luca’s childhood. The same reason she almost kept quiet about what she recently heard from Xavier when they arranged for two rooms.

But that brooding young man had been right about one thing.

This had to be addressed.

And the best way to do that was to talk to Luca about it directly.

They were his parents. They had their shortcomings, but they still had to try their best to help him heal.

But if they expected him to find peace, they needed to set the example.

And maybe, just maybe, they could even suggest a few ways he might begin to heal.

Like maybe going on a man hunt.

Which apparently had to be momentarily shelved because their own son didn’t want it.

She had been shaken after hearing that considering that boy’s hypothesis. But then again, with her son’s personality, was that even surprising?

Luca wasn’t even itching for revenge.

Apparently, he had told Xavier his greatest concern was about the innocent people who might be caught in the crossfire.

That thought alone left Amelia quiet and heavy-hearted.

Yes. They could definitely do that.

But of course, his golden eyes were fixed on one person.

"Papa!"

The word rang out, bright and sure, and it filled the room with a warmth that neither of them could have described.

Leander sat up straighter, stunned for a moment, then smiled despite himself.

Duchess Amelia could feel the weight of Xavier’s stare on her from across the room.

And she understood.

He was probably concerned about what looked like favoritism. After all, their son had run straight for her husband, as if no one else existed.

Truly, a sensitive young man.

And maybe, just maybe, she might have felt a pang of jealousy herself if she hadn’t already known how devoted Luca was to both of them.

Because while her expressive husband got this loud, tearful, laughing embrace in front of everyone, she, unbeknownst to the easily jealous father, received her own kind of quiet favor and love.

The same young man now cuddling his father was also the same one who prepared tea for her every single morning, like a ritual meant only for the two of them.

It wasn’t something done out of tradition.

It was because, some time ago, while listening to the elders and their tales, she had mentioned in passing that the tea the elders always praised sounded interesting, and if they were that insistent on it, then it was probably delicious.

And the very next thing she knew, their herb garden had sprouted a carefully tended section dedicated entirely to tea leaves.

Tea leaves he had grown just for her.

If asking the elders themselves to use their spiritual abilities on those plants wasn’t proof enough of how much care and effort he poured into that simple gesture, she didn’t know what was.

But of course...

That was their little secret.

Because who could say what Leander would do if he ever found out?

What if that giant oaf asked for something even more outrageous?