Chapter 8: You cant judge a book by its cover (5)

Sane Harkur, the eldest son of the Harkur family and now the marquis leading the household.

His father was a commoner.
His mother, the daughter of a baronet, barely considered noble.

But Sane was born into the marquisate.

He didn’t flaunt it or look down on those of lower status.
Deep down, however, he always carried the thought that he would one day lead the marquisate and took care to act accordingly.

But that was the extent of it.
He wasn’t much different from other children.

Until the year he turned nine, when an event changed everything.

“…Alicia.”
“Mother…?”

His mother, Alicia Harkur, who had been battling a mysterious illness for a year,
passed away.

The grief of losing his most cherished person.

Scarlet, only six, just beginning to swing a sword,
and Jenny, two, barely able to walk,
were too young to understand or grieve.

But for the precocious nine-year-old Sane,
it hit like a brutal reality.

It was too devastating, too unbearable for a mere nine-year-old.

Yet, he had no time to grieve.
If he wallowed in sorrow, the Harkur family would crack.

His father was too rough and unrefined.
The household only maintained its noble appearance thanks to his mother’s internal and external support, but that was it.
She, too, was open-minded, unconcerned with distinctions between commoners and nobles.

Which meant,
with her gone, the support that held the household together was gone too.

Someone had to step up and take charge.

Bright even as a child, Sane understood this clearly.
So, he pushed himself to act with the dignity of a noble.

No one forced him to do this.
That’s why he tried even harder.

‘I have to lead this family.’

Because he loved his family,
he couldn’t let things stay as they were.

His father, a boisterous and rugged warrior, had no knack for politics or internal affairs.
His mother, who had supported the estate’s management to some extent, was gone due to illness.

He didn’t resent his parents.
They had their own ways.

In fact, he admired his mother and father, who rose to this position from humble origins as a commoner and a baronet’s daughter.
That’s why he wanted to protect this family even more.

He tried not to cry.
He tried to stay composed.
And, like his parents, he tried to treat everyone equally.

But then.

“Hey, isn’t this gonna get us in trouble?”
“Who cares? The marquis doesn’t know. Just say it got lost while cleaning.”

He saw it.

“…What are you doing there?”

The commoner servants, whom his parents and he had treated well and accommodated,
were stealing his late mother’s jeweled accessories from her room.

“…Uh…? Y-Young Master…?”
“Sh*t, we’re screwed…!”

In that moment, Sane felt his head spin.
He hadn’t yet overcome the grief of his mother’s death.

“…”

He had followed his parents’ teachings to treat commoners as equals and protect them.

‘And this is what I get…?’

Sane felt something shatter in his ears.
And in that moment, he realized.

“…Commoners, when given comforts, just become base humans.”

He immediately had the two servants executed in his name.
His father scolded him harshly for it, but Sane believed he wasn’t wrong.

‘That’s right. Mother and Father were wrong. Despite their lowly status, they pushed themselves and worked tirelessly to become noble humans.’

Commoners—humans—become base if they don’t strive.
The more they effort, the greater their worth—this became his worldview.

“Father is wrong.”

He believed his father, Harkur, was robbing the commoners working in their estate of opportunities to strive and increase their worth.
By providing comforts and easy jobs, he made it so they didn’t need to effort.

This worldview naturally turned into disdain for those who settled for the stable present and neglected to strive for greater heights.
Unfortunately, most of the people Sane encountered like this were commoners.

At least nobles fought daily to maintain their positions
or to gain more wealth, honor, and power.
Their reasons might be materialistic, their methods underhanded,
but they didn’t slack in their efforts.

Over time,
his belief that “those who don’t strive are despicable”
gradually shifted to “commoners don’t strive, so they’re despicable.”

Then one day,
his father brought a boy to the estate.

“Introduce yourself. This is Kane. He’s ten, same as you, Sane.”
“Greetings.”

A boy with a similar name.
And the same age.

But a commoner.

Not just any commoner.
His hair was so matted it stuck up, as if he hadn’t washed properly.
He wore something that could barely be called clothes, more like rags.
And the stench of rotting food wafted from him, enough to make your head spin.

“I look forward to serving you, Young Master Sane.”

Despite his filthy appearance and young age, he greeted politely.
He kept a slight distance from others, as if aware of his own state.
As if he knew his place.

For some reason, Sane unconsciously thought,
‘He’s like me.’

“…Filthy.”

But he had no intention of befriending a commoner boy, so he treated him coldly.
After all, it was obvious this kid would grow complacent with the comforts here and become a base commoner.

That perception began to change
about six months after Kane arrived at the estate.

“…?”

One day, Sane found Kane reading in the library.

‘Hmph, he’ll lose interest soon, make a mess, and leave.’

Sane knew how kids behaved.
His tomboyish younger sister, Scarlet, was exactly like that.

So, he passed by, studied in his room for a few hours,
and later passed by the library again.
Curious, he peeked inside.

“…!!”

What he saw
was Kane, still in the same spot, posture unchanged, reading a book,
with three books stacked beside him.

‘Did he… read all those in just a few hours…?’

This library was built by his mother, Alicia.
To be honest, she and Sane were the only ones in the house who read properly.

Anyway, the library was filled with advanced texts even adults found hard to understand
and books written in ancient languages requiring separate study.

‘Even I can’t finish a book in a day.’

Mulling over the meaning of the words, even a bright kid like Sane struggled to read half a book in a day.
And this kid read three in a few hours?

It was absurd.
It could’ve been dismissed as a stunt.

But drawn by some inexplicable pull, Sane entered the library and asked Kane,

“Did you really read all those books?”
“Huh? Oh, Young Master Sane, hello—”
“I asked if you read them all!”

Sane realized he was shouting, shocked at himself.

‘When was the last time I raised my voice like this…?’

He regretted it instantly.
But Kane, unfazed, replied calmly,

“Oh, yes, I finished them. You can take them if you want.”

Thinking Sane came for a book he wanted, Kane spoke casually.
At that, Sane, incredulous, said,

“…No way! These books are full of ancient languages and technical terms. Even I can’t read half a book in a day! For a lowly guy like you—”

Kane’s calm demeanor only angered him more.
But Kane’s next words left Sane stunned.

“Oh, it didn’t take long since I’d read them before. The first time, it took me three or four days per book.”
“…What? You’ve read them before…?”

How many times had he read and reread those books?

[Human Anatomy], [History of Ancient Magic], [Harchi Kingdom Pharmaceutical Guide]

Seemingly unrelated books.

‘He read those multiple times?’

Did he just love knowledge?
But Kane’s next words surpassed his imagination again.

“When I asked the marquis, he said the only books are here. I want to read something new…”

Kane glanced around the library.

‘No way…’

Seeing this, Sane felt the greatest shock since his mother’s death.

‘Three times… He read all the books in this library…?’

Kane had been here for half a year.
It would’ve been impossible unless he was constantly reading.

Why?
A ten-year-old kid, who’d lost his parents and lived in squalor on the streets.
Why was he so devoted to reading and pursuing knowledge?

“Why… why the books…?”

Unable to contain his curiosity, Sane asked.
Kane scratched the back of his head, a bit shyly, and answered,

“Well… I don’t have any talent. I’m not good at anything like you or the young ladies. So, I thought if I want to be useful to the marquisate, I should at least gain knowledge.”
“…”

Sane was stunned.
Kane must have been living a luxurious life here compared to before—
wearing nice clothes, sleeping in a good place, eating good food.

Most commoners working in the estate would be grateful for such comforts.
They’d settle for doing menial tasks, believing that’s all they could contribute.

But Kane was different.
As he said, he had no special talent.

He wasn’t good at fighting or handling weapons.
Nor did he have a knack for magic.

But he had something more important than anything.

‘Focus, curiosity, and… a desire to move forward.’

No talent, but he didn’t limit himself to what he could do.
He sought out ways to grow and didn’t spare effort to achieve it.

“…”

And that wasn’t just a fleeting glimpse of a ten-year-old boy.

As he grew older, Kane amassed even more knowledge.
With the Harkur family’s authority, he accessed the depths of the royal library.
He even read forbidden texts.

And the knowledge he gained?

“Training the soldiers…?”
“Yes. The empire’s current training methods are too primitive. According to ancient texts, a more efficient approach…”

He didn’t use it for himself.
It was knowledge to teach others.
Literally, knowledge amassed to benefit the marquisate.

“Kane, thanks to your methods, the soldiers’ skills have improved dramatically. Your contribution—”
“No, Young Master Sane. You’re in charge of the estate’s soldiers. For the sake of future expansion, it’s better if this is credited to you.”

He didn’t claim his achievements.
Instead, he attributed them to the Harkur family—
to Sane.

For the family’s prestige and future success.

‘Perfect.’

Such a perfect person.

Until then, Sane had only admired two people:
his father and mother.

But he never thought, ‘I want to be like them.’

Kane was different.
He was admirable and, at the same time,

‘I want to be like him. Someone who tirelessly moves forward for others, not themselves.’

A role model.

“…Ahem.”

That’s when it started.
Sane getting so tense and stiff every time he saw Kane.

How could anyone not be nervous in front of their role model?

‘…What? Does he hate me?’

And that’s when it began.
Kane starting to think, ‘Does he hate me?’ every time he saw Sane.