Reborn As Noble

Garius let out a soft chuckle, leaning back with an air of leisure.

”Ah... I have been talking too long, haven’t I?” he said smoothly.His smile remained calm, but his eyes gleamed with quiet amusement.

Alf stepped forward, every movement precise and polished. In his hands he carried a finely sealed bottle of deep crimson wine with Armand Emblem on the bottle.

Along with it, he presented a single exquisite glass—crafted from gold, its stem inlaid with diamonds that caught the sun with each subtle turn.

Garius accepted it with ease, holding the glass. ”Perhaps, before the council begins, allow me to offer you a taste of the most expensive wine my land produces.”

Alf poured with deliberate grace, the dark liquid swirling smoothly into the golden diamond glass. Garius lifted it, studying the color for a moment before taking a slow, unhurried sip.

Garius let his gaze drift toward Alf, his expression one of composed curiosity, though the subtle curve of his lips betrayed the weight behind his words.

”Ah, Alf...” his voice flowed with noble calm, yet laced with a note of feigned concern. ”We did not bring any extra glasses, did we? How then are our esteemed peers to taste Armand’s finest wine?”

He tilted his head slightly, a sigh escaping as though he carried the guilt of poor manners. ”How careless of us. To bring such a treasure, yet so ill-prepared in courtesy... Truly, it feels wrong of me.”

”Forgive me, Your Honorable Marquis, for I brought only this one glass. A shame, I know. But unlike others, I do not burden myself with carriages overflowing with food, clothes, and trinkets. My journey was swift, smooth, and unencumbered... exactly as I intended.”

Marquis Saten ground his teeth, fury coiled behind his polite mask.

This shitty Garius....How dare he mock me so openly, in front of everyone? Does he forget I outrank him? He’ll pay for this. He might win this round with pomp and feathers, but I will not forget. I will find his weakness, and when the moment comes....

But before he could say anything.

A new sound ripped through the courtyard—a sound of split with a sudden crashing noise a shout, and the frantic cry that split the air.

”Buddy!! Brake! Brakeeeeee!!!”

Saten froze where he stood, eyes widening as the chaos unfolded before him.

Three carriages, once lined neatly in the courtyard, now lay in ruin.

Splintered wheels, shattered frames, horses neighing in panic as reins snapped loose. And at the heart of the wreckage stood a massive orange Pekko, feathers flaring, chest puffed with unshaken pride.

The rider had been thrown clean off, his body tumbling into a row of bushes with a graceless crash. Gasps and muffled laughter rippled among the onlookers, though quickly stifled under the weight of noble decorum.

The Pekko, unbothered by the wreckage it caused, tilted its head once. Then, with a slow, deliberate strut, it turned its gleaming eye toward the nobles.

”Cuquaaawk!”

The squawk rang out, sharp and triumphant, like a declaration of victory.

And then, as if mocking the very notion of punishment, the enormous bird strutted away with a smug, bouncing gait.

Saten’s lip twitched, his fingernails digging into his palm as he stared at the ruin of three carriages. First Garius... and now this...

The orange Pekko stop in front of the bushes, stood smug and proud, feathers ruffling as if mocking every noble present. Its beak curved slightly in a way that almost resembled a smirk, and each squawk it let out felt like a slap across Saten’s face.

From the bushes, the boy who had been hurled moments earlier scrambled upright, his fine clothes streaked with dirt and grass. His voice rang out, dripping with frustration.

”Ugh! Buddy!!! Now I’m in a mess! Look at my clothes!”

The Pekko merely squawked again, lowering its head to stare at him with mocking amusement.

”Cuquawked!”

”Yeah, yeah, whatever... I’m sure Liana and Uncle Hesbeirn are already apologizing to the royal guard because of you! Next time don’t brake suddenly when you’re using that speed!”

”Cuquawked?” Buddy tilted his head innocently, as if to play dumb.

”Don’t you dare use that squawk and pretend you don’t know! Ugh...” Javier dragged a hand down his face, glaring at the bird.

Just then, another Pekko came to a halt nearby, moving with far more grace. An elf maid dismounted with a flowing step, her every motion calm and refined. She hurried toward the boy, brushing leaves from his shoulder and shirt with gentle care.

”Young Master, are you alright?” she asked softly, her eyes narrowing at the pekko.

”Buddy... you should not treat Young Master like that.”

The Pekko puffed out his chest, squawked again, and even tilted his beak in what looked like a smirk.

”Cuquawked!”

Javier sighed heavily, glaring halfheartedly at his mount. ”Damn it, Buddy...”

Liana shook her head, hiding a small smile as she fussed over him, straightening his shirt as though to wipe away the embarrassment of the crash.

From across the courtyard, Saten watched it all, his carriages wrecked, his pride wounded, and now this boy commanding a monstrous Pekko as though it were nothing.

Marquis Saten’s lips stretched into a brittle smile, his eyes cold as he fixed them on the boy brushing leaves from his clothes.

”Looking at that boy... he wears the Armand emblem. Clearly, he is your son, Count Garius?” His tone was smooth, but his clenched jaw betrayed the rage simmering beneath.

Garius did not flinch. His calm gaze lingered on Javier for a moment before returning to Saten.

”Ah... forgive my youngest, Your Honorable Marquis,” he said evenly, his voice carrying the refined patience of a man above such provocations. ”Yes, that boy is mine. Javier, my youngest son. Different from his elder brothers. Far more spirited, far more mischievous. I will not deny it. He is unlike Marcellus, Cedric, or the others.”

Saten’s smile thinned further, his tone sharpening.

”Now his monster bird has wrecked my carriage, my horses scattered, my men humiliated. I demand compensation for all of this.”

”Very well, Your Honorable Marquis,” Garius replied without hesitation, his composure unshaken.

”I will see to it. Perhaps after the council meeting? Or... do you wish it now?”

”Five hundred gold coins,” Saten said with a smirk, his voice sliding between mockery and demand.

”Surely you do not mind. A small bargain for the chaos wrought by your own bloodline?”

Alf’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of disbelief breaking his butler’s calm mask. Erinnette’s lips tightened, her gaze sharp as glass. Five hundred gold was no mere amount, it was extortion dressed in silk words.

Garius tilted his head slightly, his tone still calm, but with a measured weight beneath it.

”Hmm... if we estimated the damage and the carriage, I do not believe it would reach even one hundred gold. Surely you know that yourself, Your Honorable Marquis?”

Saten’s smirk widened, though his eyes glinted with venom.

”Hah! The wood and iron may not reach it. But the chaos, the shame, the time wasted, your son’s recklessness has value beyond coin. Five hundred gold is only fair.”

( End Of Chapter )