The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 363

Chapter 363: Accusations and Agreements
The trembling door opened to Duchess Amelia and Duke Leander, whose eyes immediately darted around the room.

“LUCA!” Duke Leander roared, his booming voice rattling the windows as he swept dramatically into the room, trying to hone in on his black-haired treasure.

“MY SON, WHERE ARE YOU—”

But his words were choked off when his eyes landed on the scene before him: the soft, tender sight of Luca clinging to Xavier like a tiny, trembling bundle, his flushed face pressed against that wolf’s chest while the same predator calmly rested a hand on his back, soothing him with slow, confident strokes.

Duchess Amelia followed hurriedly behind, her eyes immediately narrowing in sharp assessment and exasperation.

“My son, are you alright?” she asked, moving swiftly past her blustering husband, practically pushing him off to kneel gracefully at the bedside, her hands gently cupping her son’s cheeks.

Wide-eyed and flustered, Luca peeked up, cheeks pink and voice small. “M-Mom, I’m okay! I just… I was just surprised. I’m alright now, really.”

Xavier dipped his head slightly in greeting, his expression composed despite the chaotic entrance. “He was only shocked, Your Grace. Nothing serious.”

Duke Leander, however, was still stuck blinking at the sight of his precious son entangled with this man. His mouth opened, closed, opened again—he raised a finger as if to say something, but Duchess Amelia, with the grace of a seasoned veteran, smoothly cut in before he could launch into fatherly interrogation.

“Leander,” she murmured, placing a firm hand on his arm, “I believe we should check on Ollie, too.”

At her words, the Duke blinked as if shaking himself out of a daze. “Ollie, he’s here too?”

His wife gave him a meaningful look. “Yes! The doctor said so earlier!”

Duke Leander turned, gaze sweeping the room, only to spot not Ollie, but Ollie’s parents instead—the distinguished Marquis Osmond and Marquise Julienne Mylor, standing nearby with serene smiles.

There was a beat of awkward silence as the people from two houses faced each other across the room.

And then, as if in perfect aristocratic synchronization, they inclined their heads slightly in mutual greeting, exchanging courteous pleasantries as if their children hadn’t just thrown the entire space into emotional chaos minutes earlier.

“Marquis Osmond, Marquise Julienne,” Duchess Amelia greeted smoothly, her voice honeyed and graceful. “A pleasure, though I wish it were under calmer circumstances.”

“The pleasure is ours, Duchess,” Marquise Julienne returned warmly, though her eyes twinkled with subtle mischief. “It seems our children are keeping us on our toes.”

Indeed, they were being kept on their toes as one particular blonde actually lay there thinking about life while pretending to be dead.

Ollie, truthfully, had woken up shortly after Luca stirred—but what was he supposed to do?

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know where to look, and definitely didn’t want to get caught up in the emotional whirlwind happening across the room, especially when he was still nursing his own grievances!

So, of course, the only logical solution was…to play dead.

The blonde lay stiffly under the covers, eyes squeezed shut, trying to control his breathing so no one would notice. But every time his good brother spoke, his ears would unconsciously betray him as they twitched, ever so slightly, straining to catch every word.

And Kyle? Kyle saw it all.

The adjutant leaned lazily against the wall, arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched the seriously not-sleeping Ollie pretend for dear life.

“Well then,” Kyle drawled, voice smooth and casual. “We should let him rest, right? Meanwhile, we can help prepare for tonight’s dinner.”

Snap.

Ollie’s eyes shot wide open, panicked, only to meet Kyle’s wickedly amused gaze head-on.

You—!” The frantic stick bolted upright with a huff, his cheeks flushing pink. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?! You’ll get more if I’m left behind!”

Kyle lifted one brow. “Who, me?”

“Don’t you ‘who, me?’ me!” Ollie huffed and, with an intense scowl, crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “This is your fault, too, Kyle! Why should I be the only one left behind?!”

His eyes glistened with a mix of grievance and indignation as he puffed up, voice rising. “Not only was my reputation tarnished for being a homewrecker, which I’m definitely not! But now, I’ll even miss out on the food and the goods!”

He jabbed an accusing finger at the giant before him. “And you! Tell your sweetheart that my blanket is mine! And the stars are mine too! And…and the desserts! She can’t always have them all!”

Meanwhile, the adjutant, who could only sigh after scooting over, took the brunt of it all and had to clarify a few things. “No one is saying anything like that about you. And I’m not seeing any sweetheart around here that would steal the rights to your blanket.” He said as he looked around for good measure.

But Ollie was too deep in his dramatic tirade now to stop. “You’re just saying that now! But who knows what would happen tomorrow!”

In the little mop’s frantic mind, lots of things could happen in a day, and if he woke up late after fainting, he could’ve been left behind to rot!

“So! You—you’ll just have to wait until I find a sweetheart first! After I find one, you can definitely go ahead, I’ll even help you! And I’ll even make a contract—yes, a contract!—to protect my rights!”

The marquise stared, jaw slightly ajar, torn between horror and disbelief. “Oliver—!” she began, preparing to scold him for his sheer, staggering selfishness—

But then she caught sight of his trembling lip, the watery shine in his big eyes, and the barely restrained sniffles.

Because Ollie had again been reminded of it, and he really disliked how the whole thing made him feel strangled.

…They don’t even know how I feel, Ollie thought miserably, his chest tightening. They don’t know what it’s like to think about the sweetheart…

Marquise Julienne froze, a sigh catching in her throat because how could she say something when he looked like that?

But to the mind of an opportunist, this sounded like a go signal. “Well, Ollie,” he murmured, voice teasingly serious, “it’s not impossible. But that’s a pretty steep request. You know, it’d delay my life plans. My family planning.”

Ollie immediately perked up. “I-I’ll pay you!” he blurted.

Kyle shook his head lightly, grin sharpening. “Money can’t buy time, bud.”

The blonde’s brows furrowed, gears visibly turning in his head. “Then…then I’ll introduce you to cute girls! Personally vetted! I’ll even help you snag them!”

The little patient thought about it and realized it sounded like a good plan. If he had a hand in choosing the sweetheart, he could pick one who wouldn’t be mean to him, or take what was supposed to be his.

That should work!

Meanwhile, the marquise pinched the bridge of her nose as she listened to him promise things he himself might not even be able to do, muttering under her breath, “Where did I go wrong with this child…”

Kyle chuckled under his breath. “Thanks, that would be a nice thing if not for the list they have back home.” He rubbed the back of his head for that absurd list really existed.

Ollie flailed his arms, flustered and desperate. “What more could you want?!”

And then, in exasperation and really just an exclamation, he gasped, “At this rate, even my firstborn child won’t be enough?!”

Kyle tilted his head, pretending to think, one brow slightly raised.

“About that…Well,” he drawled slowly, arms crossing. “I guess…I could call that a deal.”

There was a beat.

The entire room froze.

Ollie gasped, flapping his hands frantically.

“W-what?! My child?! You’re supposed to reject that!” the blonde sputtered, eyes wide, pointing a trembling finger at Kyle. “My brother and Xavier said no!”

Kyle’s smile turned downright wicked. “Well, Ollie, I’m not Luca. And I’m not Xavier. Besides…” his voice lowered, “Honestly, I think it’s an equivalent offer. What if you take so long to find a wife that I’m too old to have one myself? Who’d be my heir then, hmm?”

Ollie flailed again, utterly panicked. “Y-you can’t just—”

Kyle ruffled the mop of blonde hair fondly. “Relax. I won’t actually take your kid. I just want to confirm I have an heir lined up, just in case.”

“Oh…oh. Then it’s just inheritance, right?” Ollie puffed up again, crossing his arms indignantly. “Then you should’ve just said that from the start!”

Across the room, the marquise slowly lowered her hand, eyes half-lidded, and sighed deeply. She was beginning to understand why her son’s mere existence exhausted her. And right now, it was as if his existence could exhaust Planet Nova.

Meanwhile, Duchess Amelia arched a sharp brow. Duke Leander’s jaw slackened. Luca peeked wide-eyed from Xavier’s side.

No one expected the morning to start out like this, much less Marquis Osmond, who was not sure why he felt like something was seriously wrong.