TPWTM 14

Yurik thought as much and gave Lazhuel a faint, subtle smile. Though it was a very slight and small smile, it struck Lazhuel deeply. Unable to take his eyes off Yurik’s face, Lazhuel gazed at him quietly.

“Shall we leave everything behind in this palace today and pretend it never happened?”

As Yurik raised his glass, Lazhuel, momentarily entranced, smiled softly and lightly clinked his glass against Yurik’s with a gentle clink.

As the two tilted their glasses to savor a sip, the terrace door burst open, shattering the delicate atmosphere.

Their gazes instinctively turned toward the sound. Yurik’s eyes widened. Who would barge into a terrace with people so rudely? To his disbelief, it was Karon, pushing past a servant trying to stop him.

Looking visibly irritated, he stormed in as if the 1st Prince’s presence meant nothing to him.

“Young Duke! You can’t…”

“Look, I know. I just need some air, alright? Why the fuss when I’m here to see the Commander?”

Without hesitation, Karon handed his uniform jacket to the servant trying to restrain him and shot an annoyed glance at Lazhuel and Yurik. For a moment, Yurik and Karon’s eyes met.

Yurik stared at him wide-eyed, then let out a dry chuckle in disbelief. Beside him, Lazhuel, biting his lip to suppress laughter, cleared his throat and addressed Karon.

“Lord Chevinelle, couldn’t wait a moment and had to barge in? How can you call yourself a knight when you’re so driven by impulses?”

“I came to smoke a cigar. A cigar. Don’t misunderstand my intentions.”

Grumbling, Karon avoided Yurik’s gaze and signaled to a waiting servant. The servant brought a cigar case and offered it to Karon. Pretending to choose carefully, Karon stole glances at Lazhuel and Yurik.

Yurik looked at him with a pitying expression as he awkwardly stood by the terrace railing.

What was this rude behavior? No matter how much he’d seen and endured on the southern front, the positions of Commander-in-Chief and Commander were distinct, as were the ranks of 1st Prince and Young Duke. Strictly speaking, weren’t they representatives of the Prince’s faction and the Empress’s faction?

‘He left his partner behind? Young Lord Luches is timid and probably doesn’t fit well at parties.’

Though they’d only met a few times, Yurik felt a bit concerned. Frowning, he stared at Karon, but Karon didn’t even turn his head.

Unable to comprehend his actions, Yurik signaled to a servant, handed over his glass, and took a cigar. This man was truly exasperating.

Unaware of Yurik’s thoughts, Karon cut the tip of his cigar with a knife from a tray on the railing.

Lazhuel watched with a smile, then stepped closer to Yurik, who was looking at Karon, and put an arm around his shoulder. Smiling naturally at Yurik, Lazhuel said.

“You seem stressed, Yuri. I hope this time with me feels like a break.”

“Of course, Your Highness. You’ve helped me plenty. Unlike some people.”

“Yuri?”

Karon, who was cutting his cigar and putting it in his mouth, quickly pulled it out and stared at them in disbelief. They were already using nicknames? Yuri was one of those things you didn’t just allow lightly! As dissatisfaction flared on Karon’s face, Lazhuel shamelessly pulled Yurik closer, leaning his head on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong, Commander? Something bothering you?”

“…Aren’t you too close? There are so many eyes watching. Your Highness should maintain some dignity.”

“Who’s here on the terrace? Just me, you, and my Yuri. Only servants otherwise, right?”

“My…”

Karon, looking thoroughly annoyed, turned away with a scoff and lit his cigar with a lighter. Lazhuel’s stifled giggles reached Yurik’s ears. Unable to understand why Lazhuel was laughing, Yurik glanced at him, but their faces were so close he turned away in a fluster. Sensing Yurik’s reaction, Lazhuel grinned.

“Yuri, so, how’s the party you brought to life?”

“It… seems well-made. The budget was allocated appropriately, I think. What does Your Highness think?”

“I’m satisfied. You personally oversaw everything, didn’t you, Yuri?”

“…Thank you.”

Somehow, his words felt a bit slicker than before. Yurik, with a slightly uneasy expression, thanked him stiffly. Karon, watching their not-quite-flirtatious flirtation, puffed on his cigar aggressively.

‘…So annoying.’

Yurik sighed, looking at Karon. Being Lazhuel’s partner had saved him from immediate trouble, but a bigger crisis loomed. This victory banquet was for the 1st Prince on its first day. Here, he’d face Empress Bistette head-on. As the 1st Prince’s partner, no less.

Going from being the talk of the town with Karon to becoming Lazhuel’s partner—how many more scandals would follow? Yurik was already worried.

Yurik stepped closer to Karon and leaned lightly against the railing. Karon seemed to flinch slightly, but Yurik paid no mind, pulling the tray with the knife toward him. He cut the tip of his cigar. Lazhuel watched with interest. Feeling his gaze, Yurik looked up and said.

“Your Highness, shall I prepare one for you?”

“I’m good, Yuri.”

“You’re really sticking to that nickname, aren’t you?”

Karon shot Lazhuel a displeased look. Lazhuel smiled back at him.

“What’s wrong with partners using nicknames?”

“…I didn’t say it was a problem.”

“You look awfully upset, Karon. Too much anger makes you look small. Keep that in mind.”

“Yes, I’ll take your advice to heart.”

Karon raised an eyebrow sarcastically. Lazhuel stifled a laugh and turned away. Yurik, ignoring them, focused on cutting his cigar. Karon, irritated that Yurik wasn’t even paying attention to him, puffed harder but couldn’t show it, grimacing as he inhaled deeply.

“Your Highness, may I smoke a cigar too?”

“Don’t ask permission, Yuri. Do whatever you want.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Yurik thanked Lazhuel’s easy permission, leaned comfortably against the railing, and put the cigar in his mouth. Once lit, the rich almond and heavy cigar aroma would rise. Yurik rummaged through his jacket’s inner pocket for a lighter, checking the tray for one as he lowered his head.

But then, two flames flickered before his eyes.

Looking up curiously, he saw two fine Zippo lighters held out, flames lit.

One in Karon’s hand, one in Lazhuel’s.

“…”

“…”

“…”

A brief silence fell among the three. Tilting his head slightly, Yurik blinked a few times, then found his own lighter in his pocket. It was less fancy than theirs but did the job. With a dry smirk, he politely declined their offers.

“…Thank you, but I’m grown enough to handle this myself.”

Snap!

The lighter’s flame caught the cigar, and it began to burn. Lazhuel smiled first, closing his Zippo. Karon, face flushed, turned away and lowered his hand. He hadn’t expected to offer a light at the same time as Lazhuel. Neither had Lazhuel.

Yurik, outwardly unfazed, enjoyed the view while smoking between the two men. Smoke wafted thickly.

‘…What’s this?’

Honestly, Yurik was flustered too. He just didn’t show it. Speechless and dazed, Karon, smoking beside him, didn’t finish his cigar. Face red, he stubbed it out and hurriedly left the terrace. Even from behind, his ears were visibly flushed.

‘Not even a goodbye…’

Yurik frowned, glaring at him. Even if not to him, shouldn’t he at least acknowledge the Prince? Thinking this, he looked at Lazhuel, who stood with arms crossed, a subtly amused expression lost in thought. Feeling Yurik’s gaze, Lazhuel looked up. Yurik apologized.

“I apologize on behalf of Lord Karon’s rudeness, Your Highness. He’s not usually like this… He’s acting odd today.”

“Yuri, why are you apologizing for Karon?”

“Well…”

“Well, what?”

Lazhuel asked with a soft, slightly husky laugh. Yurik started to answer naturally but stopped. Right. There was no reason to apologize for him. Even if they were engaged, how could a relationship where they couldn’t even attend a major event like the victory banquet as partners lead to marriage? It might just end with exchanging betrothal gifts. Yurik bit his lip.

Seeing Yurik’s ambiguous expression, Lazhuel uncrossed his arms and extended a hand.

“Yuri, let’s think about complicated things later. We’ve got enough complex and difficult matters ahead, don’t we?”

Yurik nodded. The highlight of the victory banquet was about to begin. He was supposed to stay far from it, but from the moment Lazhuel helped him, he had to help Lazhuel in return. He couldn’t understand how it came to this, but with the situation as it was, he had no choice but to do his best.

Yurik steadied himself and looked at Lazhuel.

“Thank you again for helping me out of a tough spot. Your Highness’s generosity and care…”

“No, Yuri, I reached out because it’s you.”

“…Pardon?”

“Because it’s you.”

“Oh…”

Lazhuel spoke with conviction, smiling beautifully at Yurik. Unsure how to respond, Yurik bit his dry lips and placed his hand on Lazhuel’s. Lazhuel grabbed it firmly, pulling him closer. Speaking softly to Yurik, now a step nearer, he whispered.

“So, shall we head to our own battlefield, Yuri?”

“…Alright, Your Highness.”

“I’m counting on you as my partner for the rest of the time.”

Because it’s you. Those words carried a lot, but now wasn’t the time to unpack them. Something else mattered more.

“Likewise.”

Yurik smiled politely and gently at Lazhuel.

• ~ *

A grand trumpet fanfare announced the Empress’s entrance.

“The heart of the Empire, Empress Bistette Le Rozenbite Britas, enters!”

At the servant’s cry, all nobles in the hall turned to the grand doors. The massive double doors parted, and the honor guard split to either side. In the center, the Empress appeared in a dazzling dress of peach and gold.

A white and red sash adorned with ornate insignia crossed her shoulder and torso. Yurik thought to himself.

‘Hmm… She looks like the star.’

Despite the true star standing beside him, her late entrance made her seem like the war’s victor and commander.

The diamond-encrusted crown on her head sparkled brilliantly under the chandelier light.

Yurik glanced at Lazhuel, who was clapping nonchalantly. Their eyes met briefly as Lazhuel tilted his head.

He smiled faintly, his eyes curving. Yurik gave an awkward smile and looked away.

‘He really seems unbothered…’

If he was fine with it, that was good. Yurik shrugged. He too wore an uncomfortable sash with insignia.

It was something all partners of those who earned merit wore. Today, Lazhuel, as the representative honored for the southern front and Commander-in-Chief, would stand before everyone.

His partner had to be adorned as well, hence the sash.

‘That’s why the partner role was so important… Everyone wanted to be a partner to the southern front knights.’

That’s why being Karon’s partner was significant for Yurik. Though that had gone completely awry.

He hadn’t predicted it would come to this. To stand before the Empress on the first day of the victory banquet, in the Palace of Light, as the Prince’s partner, with all nobles gathered.

If his parents saw this, they’d call it the family’s glory and make a fuss. If Sehil saw it, he’d writhe in jealousy. The thought was so obvious that their absence felt like a blessing. Yurik sighed with a slightly bitter expression.

“Yuri, we should go.”

Lazhuel called softly. Yurik straightened, lifted his chin, and looked ahead. Nobles were watching him and Lazhuel. He swallowed dryly.

Being the Prince’s partner came with one duty. This.

As the Empress entered, the honor guard left, and Karon, leading the Radiant Glory Knight Corps in pristine uniforms with ceremonial swords, entered.

An orchestra played grand music in the background.

The knights, with squared military caps tucked under their arms and ceremonial swords in hand, were an impressive sight. Nobles gasped and admired.

Yurik looked at Karon, leading the formation. Karon’s face was the most serious Yurik had ever seen during a ceremony.

The knights split from four columns to two, forming a path. The sound of synchronized boots wasn’t drowned out by the music.

With the red carpet at the center, the knights raised their ceremonial swords to chest height. The music changed, signaling the Commander-in-Chief’s entrance.

Clap clap clap!

Nobles applauded, welcoming the Commander-in-Chief.

Commander-in-Chief, 1st Prince Lazhuela di Britas, and his partner, Viscount Yurik Windsor. They were practically the stars of the event. Yurik’s face paled.

Crossing the path lined by knights to stand before the Empress felt like an immense burden. How could this happen so suddenly? Just moments ago, he was smoking, thinking he’d be alone, like a duck egg in the Yutes River.

At the start of the red carpet, Lazhuel extended a hand. Yurik saw a playful glint in his faintly smiling face but couldn’t respond. He carefully placed his hand on Lazhuel’s.

“The hero of the southern front, Commander-in-Chief 1st Prince Lazhuela di Britas, accompanied by his partner, Viscount Yurik Windsor, crosses the carpet of victory!”

The official’s voice rang out excessively loud.

The two slowly walked the red carpet toward the Empress. Karon’s gaze seemed to brush past, but the tense Yurik had no time to dwell on it. The Empress, eyes wide, was staring straight at him.

“For the infinite glory of the Halcon Empire!”

The knights stamped their feet in unison as they reached the Empress. They lowered their swords, returned to columns, the music softened, and the nobles’ applause faded.

The Empress, standing atop the steps, stepped forward with a slight smile.

“Great knights of the Empire, I congratulate your victory. This is the Empire’s victory, and the victory of us all. And though not present, it is also the victory of His Majesty Emperor Rostaf, the heart of the Empire. Infinite glory to His Majesty!”

Raising one hand and placing it over her heart, the Empress’s gesture was mimicked by all nobles.

“To His Majesty!”

Yurik joined the chant, swallowing dryly. The Empress’s sharp gaze swept over Lazhuel and Yurik.

After the chant, the hall fell silent again. The Empress continued slowly.

“In this honored place, we cannot simply send off the knights who brought victory to Halcon. Each will be rewarded according to their merits.”

“It is an honor, Your Majesty.”

Lazhuel bent slightly, placing a hand over his heart in thanks. Yurik, a step behind, followed suit.

The Empress gave a faint smile, her sharp eyes on Lazhuel, then raised a hand in a gesture.

Servants carrying red cushions entered in formation through the hall’s central doors.

“Oh my…”

“Goodness.”

Nobles gasped, covering their mouths or exchanging glances.

The servants held jewel-encrusted boxes, silver-gleaming swords, pure gold, gems, betrothal gifts, and other costly items. Beyond titles and status, the imperial family had provided an abundance. Nobles whispered in astonishment.

“Is it true the Empress is keeping the 1st Prince in check…?”

One noble whispered to another. The other, frowning, tapped his thigh, signaling to stop. He whispered back.

“It’s just take what’s given. She won’t grant what’s desired.”

“Tch…”

Amid the whispers, Karon and Lazhuel’s faces were frighteningly stern. Yurik glanced at Lazhuel with a sympathetic expression.

He knew exactly what these gifts meant. The Empress was saying, indirectly, to take it and leave. The surface was dazzling, but the true value was uncertain. Yurik felt a bitter pang.

In the slightly somber atmosphere, only Empress Bistette spoke in an excited voice.

“If I sent off those who achieved merit empty-handed, it would disgrace His Majesty. We prepared thoroughly.”

The Empress let out a huff laugh, and the nobles smiled awkwardly, watching her. With a sly smile, she scanned the room before continuing.

“Especially this time, I thought deeply about what’s best for the knights who risked their lives for the Empire. It struck me: the best thing for our knights, after fighting abroad, is a stable family to return to. For those without titles, we grant titles. For those without partners, I will personally arrange matches. What do you all think?”

The nobles, momentarily flustered and glancing at each other, soon responded.

“A splendid idea, Your Majesty!”

“A wise decision, Your Majesty!”

“We are moved by your lofty wisdom, Your Majesty!”

At the flattery, the Empress laughed huff huff. Murmurs and commotion began among the nobles. The smile faded from Yurik’s face.

It was obvious who she was targeting. Even someone detached from politics could see it. Hadn’t the Empress gone to great lengths to pair two people?

‘…Oh.’

Yurik slightly furrowed his brow. He was already feeling dizzy. Tomorrow’s headlines were already a concern.

Her remarks would surely make the papers, and everyone would talk about who she targeted. If pinpointed, that person… no, Karon would be the talk of the town.

With gossip about his engagement and marriage to Yurik already rampant, the Empress’s involvement in this love triangle would make the scandal uncontainable. The thought alone exhausted and unsettled Yurik.

‘This will cause huge problems in politics too.’

Wasn’t it a blatant move to pull someone into the Empress’s faction? The intent was too clear.

This could tip the delicate balance between the Empress’s and Prince’s factions.

The Radiant Glory Knight Corps belonged to Prince Lazhuel’s faction, so forcing them to form families and grant titles to tie them to the Empress’s faction nobles was highly problematic. It was tantamount to openly stealing Lazhuel’s influence right in front of him.

Yurik couldn’t fathom how this situation would unfold. His vision seemed to blur white. What was Lazhuel thinking right now?

With unease, Yurik looked at Lazhuel. Turning his head, he could only see the side of Lazhuel’s face, standing a step ahead. But Yurik was slightly shocked. Lazhuel was faintly smiling.

‘…Smiling?’

The Prince was smiling in this situation? Yurik blinked blankly.

At that moment, Karon, standing at the front of the Radiant Glory Knight Corps maintaining formation, stepped forward a couple of paces, breaking ranks. Instantly, all eyes turned to him.

Karon knelt on one knee before the Empress. As the hall began to stir, Karon spoke in a calm voice.

“I report to Your Majesty the Empress.”

At his words, the entire knight corps snapped to attention with a synchronized click. The hall fell silent in an instant, with only the soft music of the orchestra audible.

The Empress stared at Karon. Her expression showed displeasure, but she couldn’t ignore his address here. Reluctantly, she permitted him to speak.

“Speak your report.”

Karon bowed his head slightly in respect, then continued slowly but firmly, his voice clear for all to hear.

“Countless jewels and gifts, fine swords and titles, the praise of our lord, and the acclaim of the masses are all honors far too great for us.”

Everyone looked at Karon, wondering what he meant.

“We did not fight to be honored, nor did we take up swords at the forefront of the Empire for personal glory. We fought for the Empire, risking our lives for the Empire. I report to Your Majesty the Empress that our fight was not for personal gain.”

“Uh… Hmm?”

Sensing something off, people began exchanging glances. The Empress’s expression hardened, her brow furrowing. Karon’s words, though undeniably correct, were clearly out of place in this context.

No one was saying otherwise, and wasn’t the Empress generously acknowledging their efforts with rewards?

But without rewards, no one would endure such grueling efforts voluntarily. The message was clear: we recognize your hard work, so we’re rewarding you.

Everyone stared at Karon, bewildered. Karon looked at the Empress with an unnecessarily serious expression.

Empress Bistette felt an oddly ominous premonition. Her gaze quietly shifted to Lazhuel in front of her.

Her face hardened quickly. Lazhuel was subtly smiling, looking at Karon.

Realizing she needed to stop Karon, the Empress opened her mouth quickly.

“Who said…!”

She started to say, “Lord Karon,” but her voice was drowned out by Karon’s sudden, impassioned shout.

“At this opportunity! At this victory banquet! To show our loyalty! With all our heart!”

Karon shouted with intense seriousness, his voice booming.

“We will lay all that is bestowed before our lord!”

SCREECH!

At that moment, a startled musician’s off-note echoed, and the music stopped.

“…”

“…”

Everyone fell silent. The Palace of Light became chillingly quiet. In that moment, Karon, with an utterly serious face, continued, looking at the Empress, whose cheeks twitched.

“However! To prove our loyalty, we offer our oath of allegiance to the Empire and His Majesty the Emperor!”

“We offer!”

With Karon’s final words, the Radiant Glory Knight Corps behind him all knelt on one knee, echoing his pledge of loyalty to the Empire and the Emperor.

Yurik stared at the scene, mouth slightly agape.

“…Pfft.”

Hearing a faint stifled laugh beside him, Yurik turned to Lazhuel in a daze. Lazhuel was biting his lips, desperately holding back laughter.

‘…So this is…’

What was happening right now?

Yurik tried to think quickly, but his mind refused to process, and he blinked.

Karon was pledging loyalty to the Empire and the Emperor before the Empress, rejecting all rewards. Why… was he doing this?

Yurik looked at the Empress.

Her hands trembled with fury, her face contorted as she gritted her teeth. And every noble witnessed it.

• ~ *

Yurik strode toward the administrative palace, grinding his teeth. The building was brightly lit, and many clerks followed him, their faces pale, ashen, or stumbling as if about to collapse, dragged toward the administration.

Among them, Yurik stomped like an enraged warrior, heading for his office.

“Here, the documents!”

“Lord Galte from the treasury! What if he’s still drunk? Denying reality won’t help!”

“We need to recalculate… recalculate… Argh!”

“The Chancellor said he’ll be here in ten minutes. Start with tomorrow’s banquet progress…”

“When’s the knight corps’ chief of staff arriving? Tell him to come to the interior department immediately!”

Behind Yurik, frantic clerks passed documents and issued orders. Those entering their offices looked like they were being dragged to hell.

Yurik marched through them with grim determination, heading for his office. He heard someone calling him but didn’t look back. They’d barge into his office soon enough anyway.

This situation was caused by someone who turned the victory banquet upside down.

The person responsible for forcing a complete overhaul of the meticulously planned banquet, prepared over sleepless nights, was probably lounging comfortably in his mansion. Or perhaps sipping wine, thinking, “What a great day!” and congratulating himself for his actions.

Thanks to him, the administration was in chaos, the Empress was furious, and a week’s worth of flawless plans were ruined. He probably had no idea. Of course he didn’t.

‘Damn Karon Chevinelle!’

Yurik flung open his office door, grinding his teeth.

• ~ *

And that Karon Chevinelle was indeed holding a wine glass in the Prince’s palace, overlooking the lit administrative palace. With Lazhuel.

Lazhuel, waiting as servants removed his ornate uniform, finally sat on a plush sofa in a comfortable shirt.

He smirked at Karon, who stared out at the lit administrative palace, and sipped from a wine glass on the table.

“Worried, are you? This is your doing, Karon.”

“Yes… Well, I heard it’s a husband’s duty to take some heat, but I didn’t expect it like this.”

“You haven’t even taken the heat yet.”

Lazhuel laughed loudly at Karon’s words. Though Karon spoke jokingly, his pursed lips and jealous expression were obvious.

Karon was glaring at Lazhuel, who had been Yurik’s partner. Lazhuel, not bothering to soothe him, chuckled, twirling his wine glass and leaning back on the couch.

“Think of it as the price for landing a blow on the Empress.”

“Don’t you think it’s too steep? Yuri has no idea what’s going on.”

“With Yuri’s sharpness, he’s probably figured it out. You know my relationship with the Empress.”

“He doesn’t know about our relationship.”

“Careful, that sounds like something deeper. Do you think Yuri, who’s been with us to the southern front, can’t guess our bond? That sharp mind?”

“Well, he can be a bit clueless sometimes, like a screw’s loose…”

“Hmm.”

Lazhuel gave an ambiguous smile. Was Karon boasting he knew Yurik better? Karon, feigning indifference, crossed his arms, leaned on the windowsill, then stood and downed his wine in one gulp.

Watching Karon set the empty glass on the table, Lazhuel propped an arm on his knee, stared, and smirked.

“Jealous, Karon?”

Karon frowned slightly, turning to Lazhuel.

Jealousy. Jealousy? Him, the Empire’s prodigal son, beloved by all, jealous?

In his life, aside from vying for his mother’s love against his father as a child, Karon had never harbored envy or schemed to steal someone’s affection. Never! He could swear on his heart. Karon pressed his lips shut, staring at Lazhuel.

As if reading everything in his gaze, Lazhuel raised an eyebrow. With a pitying look, he scoffed at Karon.

“Being jealous doesn’t undo what happened, Karon. Right?”

“…True, Your Highness. But why do you think I’m jealous?”

“Your eyes, your expression, your vibe, the temperature, the humidity, the lighting. Everything says so.”

“…”

Karon shut his mouth and turned away. Yes, he was jealous. Yurik, wearing the sash beside Lazhuel, looked more fitting with him than anyone.

Even Countess Lustelien had said, “My goodness, Yuri looks like a prince consort!” That stabbed Karon’s heart, sparking defiance among the nobles.

“Absolutely! Look at that platinum hair! So noble!” “So beautiful!” Amid their exclamations, Karon himself thought Yurik’s platinum hair, gleaming under the chandelier, his chiseled frame, squared shoulders, courteous and elegant demeanor, and flawless etiquette matched Lazhuel perfectly.

‘Damn it.’

Karon wrinkled his nose, grabbed the wine bottle, filled his glass, and downed it again. Lazhuel smiled like a victor. The bittersweet wine tasted bitter today.

Lazhuel leisurely gazed at the lit administrative palace, then spoke slowly.

“How will the Empress react? She’ll be grinding her teeth for revenge for a while.”

“We need to hurry with the wedding. She’ll try to use Luches somehow. She wanted to extract a loyalty oath to the 2nd Prince as an excuse, but that failed.”

“Right, House Graham has fully joined the Empress’s faction. They’re desperate too. They saw a chance to align with House Chevinelle and break neutrality, but it fell through. They’ve lost something.”

“Maybe. Won’t the Empress reward them for joining her faction?”

“If Luches can’t hold onto you, Karon, he’s like a cut kite in the Empress’s faction. With Duke Chevinelle firmly in control, what can Marquis Graham do?”

Lazhuel muttered with a cold expression. The Empress’s faction nobles already held strong ground.

Expanding influence was fine, but what role could a newcomer like Marquis Graham play? Could he secure a place in the Empress’s favor? That was a topic among her faction, wary of their positions being encroached.

“Life is so complicated, isn’t it, Lord Karon?”

“…Yeah, it is. All this over one banquet, and the clerks are pulling all-nighters.”

“Right, you probably want to run to Yuri now. But it’s true the clerks are in a mess. Tomorrow’s banquet lost the knight corps’ commendation order, and it’s tied to the afternoon plaza festival.”

“Just drink and enjoy, right? It’s that simple… And stop calling him Yuri.”

“If only the clerks had empty heads like you.”

“Are you calling soldiers blockheads now?”

“No, why exaggerate? I said empty-headed.”

Karon frowned at Lazhuel, muttered a “tch,” smirked, and turned away. Lazhuel, incredulous, widened his eyes and shrugged.

A cruel night for the clerks, a refreshing dawn for Karon and Lazhuel.

• ~ *

Viscount Ruienne Graham bit his thumbnail, pacing slowly in a dimly candlelit room. Around and around, for hours, Luches watched him from the sofa, tense, then lowered his head. His hands on his knees were pale with anxiety.

“…So, Luches, that’s it with Young Duke Chevinelle?”

A hoarse voice, followed by a throat-clearing cough, broke the silence. Luches, silent for over an hour, looked up startled, then flinched at Ruienne’s terrifying glare, shrinking his shoulders.

“Uh, well… He told me to go first…”

“And you! Just obediently left? He said go, so you hopped in a carriage!”

Ruienne grabbed a water bottle from the table and threw it. It shattered loudly against the wall. He then hurled a plate of food at Luches.

Hard cookies from the plate rained over Luches’s head, and the plate shattered against the sofa’s backrest. Shards fell on his shoulders. Luches squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. Cookie crumbs fell from his eyebrows.

“Luches, Luches! You fool! How much do I have to explain and spell out for you to act! Where’s the partner who leaves a banquet night just because they’re told to go!”

Furious, Ruienne grabbed Luches’s shoulders, clenching his teeth. He tried not to yell, but it was futile. Luches, terrified and pale, looked at him with teary eyes.

“Those pitiful eyes, save them for Young Duke Chevinelle. Maybe he’ll reach out and wipe your tears. Listen, Luches, for the family.”

“Hyung…! Urk!”

Ruienne roughly yanked Luches’s cravat loose, unbuttoning his shirt to expose his pale neck. Grabbing his head and locking eyes, Ruienne said.

“Seduce Chevinelle with your body, or buy a night with him. Alright? An Alpha’s seed will do. If you’re with Karon for a night, if you bear his child, you’ve done your duty for the family. Got it? That’s what the Empress wants, Luches.”

“Hic…”

“Luches, answer me. Understand?”

“Y-Yes…!”

“You can do it, right?”

“…Yes…”

Luches swallowed his tears and nodded. Ruienne smiled, stroking his cheek. Frail since childhood, Luches was too coddled to grasp situations without blunt words.

He needed proper education. The family’s situation. His role. That moping wasn’t his only job. Ruienne felt his suppressed anger boil but held it back, staring at Luches.

“Good. My obedient little brother. I’m counting on you.”

“Hic…”

Luches blinked, biting his lip hard.

• ~ *

At 10:45 AM under a blazing sun, Yurik stumbled out of a carriage. The butler, seeing him from the mansion’s garden, rushed to support him.

“Young Master, Young Master! Are you alright? Perrin, go get…!”

“…Butler, I’m fine.”

“You look terribly pale, heavens, what happened at the palace…!”

“You’ve heard, then. Let’s go inside. I’m exhausted standing.”

Yurik, supported by the butler, sighed deeply and waved a hand. The exhaustion was indescribable, even if explained all night. Yes, all night! Yurik gritted his teeth.

Because of Karon Chevinelle and his crew (the Radiant Glory Knight Corps and Prince Lazhuel, now demoted to “crew” in Yurik’s mind), he couldn’t enjoy a leisurely banquet, sipping wine and laughing, then retiring to rest.

He was stuck in the hellish administrative palace office, surrounded by clerks reeking of sweat and liquor, buried in piles of papers, reading and signing all night.

Yurik briefly felt his fingers still clutching a pen, then snapped out of it.

Striding across the garden to the entrance, Yurik headed for the lobby stairs without looking around. The butler and servants followed.

“Young Master, your bath and bed are ready for rest. But, um…”

“Sleep first. I need to leave in two hours.”

“What? The plaza festival this afternoon? That’s too harsh a schedule. But, Young Master…”

The butler helped Yurik undo his cravat, shirt buttons, and accessories, passing cufflinks and brooches to a servant.

Seeing the butler hesitate, Yurik pressed his brow, stopped, and turned to him.

“Butler, I’m sleep-deprived, have to leave in two hours, and don’t want to do anything now. Sorry, but can we talk in two hours?”

“Oh… Young Master, I’m sorry, but…”

Yurik sighed, muttering, and handed his jacket to the butler, who held it with a fretful expression.

“In two hours, I need to check if the National Theater Dance Troupe, urgently booked for the plaza festival, performs ‘The Saga of the First Halcon Emperor’ properly. The damn Radiant Glory Knight Corps gave up their commendations, so we’re stuck with this.”

“The National Theater Dance Troupe? Their tickets are hard to get.”

A familiar voice made Yurik pause and blink slowly. The butler, looking apologetic, spoke.

“Young Master, Young Duke Karon Chevinelle arrived earlier. I tried to tell you…”

Karon, leaning on the landing railing, descended, gesturing to the butler that he’d explain. Yurik pressed his lips shut, sighed deeply, and slowly turned.

Karon, standing before him, flashed a bright smile. Dressed in a uniform with medals and a cape, he looked every bit the banquet’s star. Oddly so, at this hour.

Yurik, dumbfounded, touched his forehead. Why was a man with a partner visiting another noble’s house in the peaceful morning? Dressed to the nines, no less. He should be with Luches.

“Their performance is not to be missed. People will prefer it over sweaty soldiers marching for titles. Right, Yuri?”

Karon stepped closer, a faint Pleonia scent wafting. Yurik frowned, stepping back.

His handsome smile was infuriatingly smug, making Yurik want to punch him. How many people were running around exhausted because of him?

But faced with that dazzling smile, Yurik couldn’t snap, only sighing softly.

“Why are you here now?”