The Duke's youngest son is Unbearable

---

Crimson Estate – Morning Chatter

Inside the grand halls of the Crimson Estate, a group of maids busily cleaned the passage leading to the dining hall. Their soft chatter filled the corridor, blending with the rhythmic swishing of dusters against polished surfaces and the faint clinking of porcelain.

One maid, Sofi, meticulously dusted an elegant painting of a towering mountain, her feather brush gliding over the ornate frame. She glanced at her fellow maid, Clara, who was carefully wiping down a delicate vase resting on an intricately carved wooden table.

Sofi leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "Did you hear what happened today?" she asked, excitement flickering in her eyes. "Master Asher woke up before the sun even rose. Isn't that surprising?"

Clara paused, her hand stilling against the vase as she tilted her head in thought. "Yeah, I heard," she murmured, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "Strange… but maybe after living at the academy for a month, he finally learned to wake up early."

Sofi's lips curled into a grin, clearly thirsting for more gossip. "That's not all," she added, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "I heard he even met with Lord Arthur while he was training!"

There was a tinge of jealousy in her voice.

Clara, now intrigued, pursed her lips. "Really? I wish I could watch Lord Arthur train just once," she sighed wistfully, eyes shimmering with admiration.

Sofi smirked. "You're not alone." Then, dropping her voice even further, she continued, "Lord Arthur invited him to train together, but guess what? Lord Asher refused… and ran off to the garden to hide!"

The maids exchanged knowing looks before breaking into soft giggles.

"Oh, that's not all," Clara whispered conspiratorially. "Lily said she saw Lord Asher making weird gestures and shouting strange things… to the flowers."

Another round of giggles rippled through the group.

Sofi twirled her duster between her fingers. "I think Lord Arthur is more handsome than Lord Asher."

Clara, tilting her head in consideration, disagreed. "I think they're both equally handsome, in different ways."

At that moment, another voice chimed in.

"I think… Lord Asher is cuter."

The maids turned to see Akhi, a pink-haired maid who had been quietly watering the potted plants nearby.

A chorus of "Ooooh~" erupted from the group.

Clara smirked playfully. "Someone's been reading Tale of the Young Lord and the Maid, haven't they?"

Akhi's face turned bright red as she quickly hid behind the watering can.

Just as their laughter was about to spill over again, the sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor.

The maids instantly froze.

Their playful expressions vanished, replaced with hurried movements as they returned to their tasks—dusters swiping faster, hands adjusting vases, backs straightening as if they had never been gossiping in the first place.

The footsteps grew closer…

They finally saw who it was—Asher Crimson.

He was dressed in casual everyday clothes, but his usual confident and playful demeanor was gone. His crimson hair, slightly ruffled, swayed as he walked, yet his expression was distant, his brows furrowed in deep thought.

The maids didn't dare look directly at him, but their eyes flickered toward him in stolen glances as he passed them. There was no mischievous smirk, no carefree bounce in his step—only silent contemplation.

As he disappeared down the hall, his footsteps growing distant, the maids exchanged uneasy looks.

Clara whispered first, her voice barely above a breath. "Did something happen? Lord Asher looked… really serious just now."

Sofi frowned, her mind already spinning with theories. "Did the Duke scold him?"

Akhi, still clutching the watering can, looked visibly worried. "I've never seen Lord Asher like that before," she murmured. "He's always so carefree… but today, he looked—" she hesitated, struggling to find the right words.

"Troubled," Clara finished, nodding. "Something's definitely wrong."

---

Asher's Room

Inside his lavishly decorated room, Asher stood in front of a large mirror, staring at his reflection. Normally, he might have admired his appearance—his sharp crimson eyes, his striking features, the air of nobility that came so naturally.

But today, none of that mattered.

His mind was a storm of unanswered questions, all revolving around the dungeon incident.

His gaze narrowed, scrutinizing his own face as if searching for something… anything.

"Was I really being controlled?" The thought lingered, sending an unsettling chill through him.

He ran a hand through his hair, but the tension in his chest didn't ease.

"I know myself. I wouldn't attack someone's family over jealousy but I also know jealousy can change people in ways people never thought possible."

But then… why?

Why hadn't he reacted when Elvin attacked? How had he known about Elvin's mother? And why did he feel as if something was lurking in the depths of his mind, whispering just beyond his reach?

He clenched his fists, frustration welling up inside him.

Then there was his father.

He didn't know if the Duke suspected anything or not, but something felt off. His father didn't even question the fact that his ether core had healed—an event that should have been impossible.

It was as if… he already knew something or had a guess.

Asher gritted his teeth, digging his fingers into his hair as he ruffled it in frustration. Taking a few unsteady steps backward, he collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

His mind was spinning, the more he thought, the more tangled the questions became.

"This is why I hate thinking," he muttered under his breath.

Asher had always operated in extremes—either he ignored everything and didn't think at all, or he overanalyzed everything to the point of exhaustion. It was the same even on Earth.

But unlike Earth, he couldn't distract himself with games, movies, or mindless entertainment.

A frustrated groan escaped his lips.

"I need to calm down."

Then, an idea struck him.

Although he had lived as Asher Crimson, he had rarely gone outside, especially into the capital. Even when he did, he was always accompanied by guards, limiting what he could see.

"Maybe I should sneak out."

The thought took root, slowly replacing his frustration with excitement.

For the first time, he would get to see this world through his own eyes—without the watchful presence of knights and maids.

But not now.

"If I try to sneak out during the day, the guards will notice. I'll do it at night."

Deciding that, he settled into his bed, letting out a deep breath.

He knew how to fall asleep quickly—something he had mastered on Earth. Focusing on his breathing, he let his thoughts drift, his body gradually relaxing.

Darkness crept in.

Then—

Asher's eyes snapped open.

The ceiling above him was no longer that of his estate. It was a familiar sight—the ceiling of his old room on Earth.

His stomach twisted.

"Again?"

He sat up slowly, his gaze falling on the old digital clock beside his bed.

The hands were frozen—both pointing at 12.

"Why doesn't this clock move?" he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Is it broken?"

The air in the room was heavy, an unsettling stillness settling over everything.

Then—his computer screen flickered on.

A video was loaded onto it.

Asher's breath hitched.

"That's new."

Slowly, he swung his legs over the bed and stood up, his footsteps muffled against the carpet as he approached the glowing screen.

He hesitated.

Then, he sat down in front of the monitor.

And clicked play.

-----

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