TPWTM 7

Yurik was in a complete daze, his mind utterly absent. He didn’t even check the color of the tie the maid handed him every week, nor did he recall what he ate for breakfast that morning, or notice how the butler, sweating profusely, tried desperately to hide the morning newspaper he always read. Because, quite simply, he had no mental capacity left—not even the slightest bit.

“…Young Master, are you truly alright?”

“You keep asking me that. What’s not alright?”

“…Well, you’re trying to put your shoes on the wrong feet.”

“…Oh.”

…Yurik was out of it.

And how could he not be? At the masquerade ball held at Viscount Zendakan’s estate yesterday, Yurik experienced the most shocking event of his life.

The thing he hated most was gossip; the second was gossip; and the third was, yes, gossip. Viscount Zendakan’s masquerade ball was a breeding ground for it, and yesterday, Yurik became the star of that gossip.

“Ha.”

Yurik, who had been about to put his shoes on backward, sat down heavily on the chair. Yes, it had happened just yesterday. And today, he had to go to work at the imperial palace. Rubbing his pale face with his bare hands, Yurik blinked vacantly.

‘I said I’d get married.’

In truth, what was tormenting and mocking him most right now wasn’t the countless stares and whispers he’d have to endure at the palace, or the teasing from people like Lawson or Chancellor Evan, or the loud chatter—meant to be overheard—saying things like, “Have you heard the news? Sir Karon Chevinelle and Sir Yurik Windsor, of all people…!” No, it wasn’t those things.

‘Let’s do it, marriage.’

‘What?’

‘The marriage of Karon Chevinelle and Yurik Windsor. Let’s do it.’

It was a single sentence from Karon.

Since that moment, Yurik could barely remember how he’d returned to his estate. All he could recall was Karon grabbing his arm to avoid the murmuring nobles and shoving him into a carriage, slamming the door shut as if to say, “Just go.” Then Karon had said:

‘When we meet again, you’ll have to tell me everything in detail, my dear fiancé-to-be.’

And so, Yurik returned to the estate. Alone, in a daze.

The butler, who had belatedly heard the news that spread like wildfire from the masquerade ball (it had already swept through the entire capital), rushed out to greet Yurik in a panic.

‘Young Master! Are you alright? By the heavens, how could Ariannen do such a thing…!’

‘…I’m tired.’

Yurik handed the butler the gloves he’d been wearing and went to his room, where he slept like the dead. It was a form of escaping reality. And when he woke up, it was now.

Karon Chevinelle—what in the world was that man saying? Marriage? Me, an alpha, marrying another alpha?

Of course, it wasn’t unprecedented. Yurik knew that, and in the empire, such things weren’t frowned upon. The empire championed free love, and the nobles were even more libertine. Why else would his own mother have brought Ariannen to their side, claiming he was a suitable match!

It wasn’t a world where such things were considered shameful.

“Good heavens…”

“Young Master, perhaps you should take leave today and rest.”

“No, no.”

Yurik firmly shook his head at the butler’s suggestion and stood up. In situations like this, avoiding the issue only made rumors grow and problems pile up like mountains. He had to face it head-on, and soon.

‘The marriage of Karon Chevinelle and Yurik Windsor. Let’s do it.’

Once again, Karon’s voice from yesterday echoed vividly in his ears. Yurik snapped back to reality, staring out at the sunlit window.

Yes, whatever Karon was thinking, they needed to talk again directly. The deal with Lady Zendakan had already fallen through, so Karon was his only option. That was the way to save the estate from falling into debt, to preserve the mansion, and to uphold the family’s honor. And his own pride, too.

Yurik decided it was for the best. It was fine. It was all fine. Muttering to himself as if brainwashing, he left the estate and headed for the imperial palace.

But that resolve changed the moment he arrived at the palace.

• ~ *

The capital of the Halcon Empire was in utter chaos. “Turned upside down” would be a more fitting description.

From the capital’s leading daily, Latray, to every tabloid, papers sold out in a frenzy. The next morning’s newspapers featured the uproar at Viscount Zendakan’s estate as the headline, hurriedly printed and distributed. Some even had Yurik and Karon’s faces plastered across the front page in giant illustrations.

[Karon Chevinelle and Yurik Windsor’s Suspicious Fight?!]

[Chevinelle Family vs. Windsor Family Showdown! What Do They Want!]

[Zendakan Viscount’s Near-Perfect Masquerade Ball! Capped with the Greatest Commotion!]

[Karon Chevinelle and Yurik Windsor’s De Facto Marriage Announcement!]

[Breaking News! Union of Great Noble Houses! Chevinelle and Windsor! A Closer Look Reveals an Alpha-Alpha Match!?]

[…(omitted) Such a case hasn’t occurred in decades. However, there are no legal restrictions on marriage based on traits in the empire, and the two are expected to bear fruitful results…(omitted)]

[A Secret Informant Reveals the Truth About the Windsor Family—None Other Than Yurik Windsor’s Nighttime Companion?]

[…(omitted) We managed to meet him, but due to tight security by knights, we couldn’t interview the man named Ariannen. He seemed quite distraught, biting his lip in apparent frustration…(omitted) He appeared to be on a mission to reveal some monumental secret, but Karon Chevinelle took it as a sign of affirmation…(omitted)]

Morning court duties began with reporting reviewed documents to the chancellor. Yurik had to endure the same piercing stares he’d received at the regular meeting here as well—from the three senior officials, including himself, and the chancellor.

“The temple has requested adjustments to the grand ceremony dates. They plan to align it with His Highness the Prince’s schedule so that the empire’s citizens in the capital can attend on a grand scale. Here are the documents.”

“…”

“…Why are you looking at me like that? Please review the documents, Chancellor.”

Chancellor Evan’s eyes curved slyly as he gazed at Yurik. Yurik tried to act brazen and focus solely on work, but how could he continue speaking in front of someone so blatantly distracted? In the end, Yurik sighed.

“The documents have already been reviewed once for the emperor’s report, haven’t they?”

“Then you should review them again. They need to be reported.”

“Isn’t there a more pressing issue at hand, for heaven’s sake? It’s making it impossible to focus.”

“I don’t know what could be troubling the mind of the empire’s chancellor, but I hope it’s resolved quickly. I’ll continue with the report.”

“Tch, don’t be like that, Yurik. Tell me.”

“Chancellor Evan.”

“So, when’s the engagement, and when’s the wedding? Summer would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“Summer, you say—”

Yurik stopped mid-sentence, biting his lip. He’d fallen into the chancellor’s trap.

The chancellor grinned mischievously.

“Yes, summer.”

“…I don’t know. Please focus on the report, Chancellor.”

“I’m not dismissing your hard work. It’s just a bigger issue. Getting married in summer versus spring or winter makes a huge difference, doesn’t it? Spring’s already passed, so summer’s the soonest option.”

Yurik gritted his teeth, forcing a smile as he looked at him. His blood boiled. Evan Lowst, the chancellor overseeing the empire, was known as a legendary carouser in his youth, rivaling even Karon Chevinelle.

There wasn’t a noble who hadn’t heard of his dazzling achievements and fame. But now, aged and unable to gallivant, he was stuck in the palace wrestling with paperwork. So, naturally, he found it amusing to gossip about the younger generation. Yurik understood. He really did.

But he’d understand far better if it weren’t about him. Suppressing the urge to flip the chancellor’s desk, Yurik spat out each word deliberately.

“…Nothing’s been decided yet, Chancellor.”

“Decided, decided. You’ve become so dull since becoming an official, Yurik. What’s there to decide? Love and marriage don’t need decisions. You just do it when it burns. And this is pretty much confirmed, isn’t it? Didn’t I ask when I’d come to pay my respects?”

Such insight, the chancellor boasted, while the officials nearby glanced at Yurik and flattered the chancellor. “You’re right, Chancellor. Truly impressive, Chancellor.”

Impressive, my foot! Yurik wanted to snap. Come to think of it, the chancellor’s desk had no documents about pressing imperial matters—just a pile of newspapers and tabloids, with Karon and Yurik’s faces on the topmost one.

“If you have nothing more to say, I’ll take my leave.”

“Yurik, I’m not done—”

“Chancellor, since when have you been friends with Viscount Zendakan?”

The chancellor grinned slyly.

“Old friends, very old. That fellow… he’s quite the informant.”

No wonder. Perhaps Viscount Zendakan played a key role in how Evan Lowst kept tabs on the world from his seat. Yurik clenched his teeth, forced a polite smile, bowed, and left the chancellor’s office. Evan called after him teasingly, but Yurik didn’t look back.

Ha, I need a break.

He’d been tense since arriving at the palace and already felt exhausted. With a tired face, Yurik headed for the palace courtyard. He planned to stroll through the garden to clear his thoughts.

What should he make of Karon Chevinelle’s words? Was he serious about marriage? What did Yurik himself want? And so on. For the sake of his family’s issues, he should happily accept Karon’s proposal, but… Yurik felt uneasy. Was this okay? Was it really okay? Those thoughts kept nagging at him.

And Ariannen. He’d been trying to forget that guy amid the chaos, but he needed to summon him, too. Reporters were already prowling like hyenas, and to prevent him from running his mouth unnecessarily, it’d be better to keep him close for regular monitoring. But Yurik didn’t want to bring that guy back to the estate. His presumptuous behavior… Sigh, what was the point of arguing now? It was already done. Yurik clicked his tongue.

As he headed to the courtyard, passing through the corridors, Yurik felt piercing stares. He could sense palace attendants, officials, and nobles all eyeing him with curiosity.

‘It might just be my imagination. Just my…’

He tried to convince himself, but the stares weren’t mildly curious—they were blatantly, unabashedly intense. Yurik wanted to hide from embarrassment but held his head high and strode into the courtyard.

Passing a well-manicured garden path, he saw a beautifully arranged greenhouse and pergola. He intended to head to his usual secluded resting spot, but unexpectedly, a group of nobles was gathered in the courtyard. Thanking the neatly trimmed conifers, Yurik hid behind a tree.

Where should I go? He didn’t want to pass through them. He’d surely have to exchange noble greetings. As he pondered, he overheard the nobles’ voices.

“There’s definitely something going on. Why would the Windsor family entangle themselves with such a nouveau riche house? And not even an omega who can bear heirs.”

Yurik stiffened.

“You think it’s a waste for the Windsor family? Do you, Viscount? I disagree. Why would the Chevinelle dukedom settle for a house with nothing but the hollow title of founding nobility? There’s no reason for a union. Even if they’re northern great nobles… it’s not like Windsor’s the only one. And they’re both alphas, aren’t they?”

“Exactly, both alphas. That’s what makes it harder to understand.”

“Haha, isn’t it obvious? A house with only honor left and one with only money. They’re joining forces. So what if they’re alphas? Heirs can be brought in from anywhere. I’m just curious who’ll be the next head of the house. And there’s something even more intriguing, isn’t there?”

They all chuckled, exchanging knowing glances.

“Talking in circles like this among us—who doesn’t know what you’re thinking?”

“The bedroom dynamics, that’s what’s most intriguing. Will the empire’s notorious playboy take the lead, or will the northern grand duke? That’s the question, isn’t it?”

“Good grief, people can hear you.”

“Let them hear. Am I the only one curious? The entire capital is!”

Yurik stood like a statue, hands clasped behind his back, staring at them. Yes, he’d expected such talk.

No matter how elegantly nobles carried themselves, pretending to be refined, dignified, and nobler than anyone, they were like swans gliding gracefully while paddling furiously beneath the surface. Their true selves were dark, sordid, and filthy. And Yurik knew he was no different from them. That’s why he couldn’t step forward to protest.

Yurik lowered his head, looked at his hands, and clenched his fists tightly.

If he moved a step from here, he’d practically announce his presence to them. But turning back would be no different from fleeing in shame. That wasn’t something Yurik could accept.

No matter how brutally he was chewed up by gossip, his pride wouldn’t crumble. He lifted his chin haughtily once more.

But still… he didn’t have the confidence to step out and reprimand them for their reckless talk. Right now, Yurik was a little worn out. Battered by family, by others, with no one to lean on, he had to endure and bear all this alone.

But for the noble Yurik of the great northern Windsor family to hide like this was laughable.

Yurik sighed softly, stepping out from behind the tree to face them.

But at that moment, an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Before he could process it, the man who’d slung an arm around him naturally slid his other hand down Yurik’s arm, grabbing his left wrist and lifting it.

Startled by the sudden contact, Yurik flinched and turned his head. He met a pair of golden eyes, beautifully curved as they smiled at him.

“It’s been a full day since we last saw each other, my dear fiancé-to-be.”

Karon pressed his lips to the back of Yurik’s hand, chuckling.

“Long night, wasn’t it?”

As he appeared, the trees in the garden rustled in the breeze. Yurik stared at him blankly, then furrowed his brow and swatted Karon’s hand away.

“That’s excessive contact for a greeting, Sir Chevinelle.”

“Oh, I thought we were close enough for this, but you’re still so uptight. No wonder people call you old-fashioned, huh?”

“I’ve never heard such a thing, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, I just said it, so now you’ve heard it once.”

“You must be thrilled to live so in tune with the times.”

“Unlike someone stuck in the past, I’m leading the latest trends.”

“Do today’s youth go around kissing hands so freely?”

“What’s wrong with doing it for my fiancé-to-be?”

“This…! Nothing’s been decided—”

Karon grabbed Yurik’s waist, pulling him close. Their torsos pressed together. Yurik bit his lip, staring at Karon’s face, now even closer. Karon tapped Yurik’s lips with his fingers.

“I thought it was a done deal, but you overthink everything, don’t you?”

“Sir Chevinelle, you decide things too easily—that’s your problem.”

“Don’t you think I’m being pretty generous here?”

“…”

Yurik flinched at Karon’s hand touching his lips, flustered, then grabbed Karon’s hand and pushed it away, stepping back. Karon let him go easily.

Their sudden appearance drew the gazes of the nobles gathered in the courtyard. To onlookers, they looked remarkably affectionate, prompting the nobles to exchange glances and whisper.

Karon glanced at Yurik, then lifted his eyes to scan the nobles. He wasn’t oblivious to their stares. In fact, he’d leaned closer to Yurik partly to make a point. Though, seeing Yurik lost in uncharacteristically deep thought before shaking it off also played a part.

Karon studied each noble’s face, as if memorizing them. Those who met his gaze flinched and looked away, though they still stole curious glances at Karon and Yurik.

Yurik wasn’t unaware of what Karon knew.

Yurik fiddled with his clothes, adjusting his sleeves. Karon smirked. Yurik’s determination to maintain his noble demeanor no matter what was painfully obvious.

Yurik stood casually, looking at Karon and asking, “So, why are you at the palace all of a sudden?”

“To see my fiancé-to-be, of course.”

“Stop joking and tell me the truth.”

“I don’t know what’s funny about my words—I’m serious.”

“I’ve never met someone who makes ‘serious’ sound so unconvincing.”

“You’re so stiff. Gonna keep acting like this?”

Yurik stared at Karon, incredulous.

“What’s with that cutesy tone? Do you talk like that to everyone else, too?”

“Oh, is that jealousy I hear?”

“If you’re going to keep spouting nonsense, I’m leaving.”

Seeing Yurik genuinely annoyed, Karon chuckled.

“Sir Windsor, you may think little of me, but I’m a commander who earned merits on the southern front. Visiting the palace isn’t so out of place. We’ll be seeing each other often, is what I’m saying.”

“…That’s not exactly thrilling news. Well, do what you came for and go. I’ll be on my way.”

“Sir Windsor.”

Karon, leaning with his arms crossed, called out to Yurik. When Yurik turned, Karon stepped closer. As they drew near, the young ladies in the courtyard sighed dreamily.

Karon leaned in, whispering in Yurik’s ear.

“When should we talk? We’ve got important matters left.”

Yurik furrowed his brow, leaning back to avoid Karon’s closeness.

“…Let’s set a date.”

“Why does that sound so suggestive when you say it?”

“…Are you mocking me?”

“I’m serious.”

“Stop with the nonsense.”

Yurik let out a dry laugh, glared at Karon, and turned away. Clearly offended, he strode off. Karon, leaning leisurely against a tree, watched Yurik’s retreating figure with a grin. That stubborn, uptight attitude was just so entertaining. Easy to tease with a single word.

Karon smiled at Yurik, then turned away himself. He didn’t even realize how much he was enjoying himself.

• ~ *

Karon’s encounter with Yurik at the palace was pure chance. He’d come with his father, Duke Canes Chevinelle, because Empress Bistet had sent multiple letters insisting they meet “together” before the victory banquet.

Normally, Karon would’ve ignored the letters, claiming he was unavailable or had vanished somewhere, leaving Duke Canes to deal with the empress’s hysterics alone. But this time, that wasn’t possible.

Karon Chevinelle’s marriage rumors had spread across the empire. The empress couldn’t possibly be unaware. In fact, she likely knew more than most.

Empress Bistet, the center of her own faction, desperately wanted to pair Karon, the alpha of the Chevinelle dukedom, with someone of her choosing—to bolster her and the young prince’s position.

Of course, Karon Chevinelle had already outmaneuvered her with Prince Lazhuel.

Anyway, Karon had come to the palace to meet this tiresome, protocol-obsessed high figure and happened to spot Yurik.

“Where have you been? The empress is waiting,” Canes said, looking displeased as Karon entered the reception room late. Though his face suggested he, too, wanted to escape, Karon shook his head at him.

“Father, to sigh like that before meeting Her Majesty the Empress? If she saw, she might think the Chevinelle family is abandoning her.”

“You rascal, didn’t I tell you not to say such dangerous things inside the palace?”

“Who’s going to hear? And besides, let them hear.”

Karon, as if annoyed by Canes’s nagging, scratched his ear and plopped down onto the sofa.

It was common knowledge throughout the empire that the Chevinelle family supported the empress. But the fact that the empress was the one clinging to the Chevinelle family was a secret known only to those in the know.

Having endured a tumultuous journey to rise from nouveau riche to dukedom, Duke Canes had maneuvered in many ways to become the linchpin of Empress Bistet’s faction.

That was what Karon was talking about.

Duke Canes shook his head at his wayward son.

No matter how prominent the dukedom or how central to the faction, it was still Empress Bistet. A single gesture from her could bring a noble family to ruin in the empire. One had to watch their words and actions, but his son was utterly reckless.

After rummaging through his coat to check his pocket watch, Canes glanced at Karon, put the watch away, and asked, “So, I heard the rumors. Sehil Windsor fled to avoid marriage, leaving Yurik Windsor as the remaining heir, and you declared you’d marry that young earl. What’s your plan?”

“What’s there to plan? This marriage was your idea, Father. I clearly said I didn’t want it.”

“Well, I…”

Canes trailed off, looking at Karon’s sulky face and sighing.

It was true that Prince Lazhuel the First had recommended it, and with his son, fresh from the southern front, of prime marriageable age, and nobles—especially Empress Bistet—showing keen interest in Karon’s marriage, Canes had thought it a fine opportunity and sent the proposal letter.

He hadn’t anticipated things would turn out like this.

An alpha-alpha union? He wasn’t vehemently opposed, but he couldn’t help feeling uneasy. Canes let out a low grunt, betraying his discomfort.

“I’ll speak to His Highness, so don’t get swept up in the rumors circulating out there and choose wisely.”

“Rumors? I said it with my own mouth. I intend to follow through.”

Karon smirked, leaning back deeply into the sofa and snapping his fingers. Despite it being his own affair, his nonchalant attitude and words made Canes sigh.

To be fair, when Prince Lazhuel recommended the Windsor family, he had said something cryptic.

‘What did he say? That a path had opened for the Chevinelle family to gain what they couldn’t before?’

Canes had thought it referred to the honor of a family that had risen from gentry to nobility. With Prince Lazhuel recommending the Windsor family, known for its long tradition and honor, it would’ve been odd not to think so.

As Canes mulled this over, Karon, who’d been fidgeting with his nails, spoke up.

“Isn’t this quite an amusing situation? For you too, Father. To think that your wastrel son is about to marry the ‘alpha’ of the great northern noble Windsor family!”

Seeing Karon’s chuckling face, Canes pressed his forehead. The problem was, did this fool realize he was sending an alpha who wouldn’t be outdone by such a formidable ‘alpha’?

Honestly, the thought was absurd and even a bit funny. Even though Karon took after him, his temperament and antics were maddening. To think he’d marry into that lofty, dignified family with such a storied history! And as the husband of the young earl, no less!

Canes, thinking this far, finally burst out laughing. Karon, finding the current situation quite amusing, giggled along.

“What’s your plan? Are you really going through with it? If you don’t want it, I can put a stop to it. You’ve always dealt with public scrutiny, haven’t you?”

“No. I’m going through with it.”

Karon answered firmly. There was his promise with Lazhuel, and he was quite curious about Yurik. About the ‘secret’ supposedly held by that family. And to think that winning the love of that cold man would unlock that secret—didn’t that spark a thrill of ambition? To melt that ice-cold, stone-faced Buddha of a man!

‘Not that I’d ever fall in love for real.’

It was just a fleeting interest, Karon decided. Seeing his face, Canes looked at him with surprise and said, “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for him?”

“Father, you’re going too far.”

“Am I?”

As they bantered, a knock sounded at the reception room door. Soon after, one of the empress’s attendants opened the door and entered.

“Her Majesty the Empress awaits.”

At the attendant’s polite words, Canes and Karon rose from their seats. The time to meet the empress had finally come.

The Emerald Palace, the empress’s residence, was the grandest and most splendid after the central palace where the emperor resided.

Empress Bistet particularly favored shiny, opulent things, so the decorations and objects displayed in her palace were, without exception, lavish and dazzling.

Upon arriving at the audience chamber, Empress Bistet, her long golden hair elegantly pinned up, awaited the Chevinelle father and son.

“We greet Your Majesty the Empress.”

“Come, Duke Chevinelle. It’s been a while, young duke.”

Bistet smiled graciously with a radiant face. She was adorned with large, ornate earrings, an equally extravagant crown, and a dress, exuding mature beauty but an undeniably overwhelming presence.

Karon, thinking her extravagance excessive, still greeted her with an elegant bow, as if delighted to see her.

“It’s an honor to meet you. Your Majesty, you are as beautiful as ever.”

As he raised his head from a deep bow, Karon noticed a stack of newspapers on the tea table beside the empress. His own face was drawn on the topmost one. Pretending not to see, he smiled.

As Canes and the empress made small talk, she offered them tea and desserts. It was a peaceful scene, but Karon felt profoundly uncomfortable, almost sick, and longed to escape.

“Oh, goodness, look at me. I called for my maids and attendant but forgot to introduce them. Come here.”

“Oh, are they Your Majesty’s attendants?”

Karon, who’d been zoning out with a faint smile, snapped to attention at the empress’s words and turned to her. Canes, curious, chimed in. At Bistet’s gesture, two maids and one attendant, who’d been waiting since the Chevinelles entered, scurried to her side.

“Greet them. This is Duke Canes Chevinelle and Sir Karon Chevinelle, the young duke.”

The empress introduced Canes and Karon gently. Karon followed Canes’s lead, standing and giving a slight bow.

The two maids and one attendant greeted them with excited expressions, one by one.

“Pleased to meet you, Your Grace, and young duke. I am Diorina Sebdel, a maid to Her Majesty, second daughter of the Sebdel earldom.”

“I am Lupe Sanier, eldest daughter of the Sanier barony.”

The maids curtsied, holding their dress hems. Karon observed them quietly, then his gaze fixed on the attendant. Come to think of it, the attendant’s hair was platinum blonde.

More precisely, a yellower shade, like, say, Ariannen’s. Karon, staring at the attendant, thought of Ariannen and chuckled inwardly. Perhaps it showed slightly, as his lips curved up while looking at the attendant, prompting Empress Bistet to glance between Karon and the attendant with a curious expression.

The attendant greeted with an excited face. He bore a striking resemblance to Yurik—like his tall stature (though much narrower-shouldered and slimmer than Yurik), long legs, and almond-shaped eyes.

“I am Luces Graham, second son of the Graham marquisate. Pleased to meet you.”

Oh, the second son of the Graham marquisate… an omega, then. Karon nodded, thinking to himself.

After the greetings, the empress arranged seats for them at the tea table. Luces sat beside Karon.

As she lifted her teacup, Bistet, as if just remembering, said to Canes, “By the way, Duke Chevinelle, why such haste?”

“Your Majesty, what do you mean?”

“The young duke’s engagement. I was preparing to introduce a fine match, but you’ve already sent a proposal letter. After all my urging, it feels like you haven’t truly taken my intentions to heart.”

“Oh, no, Your Majesty. It’s embarrassing to say, but my son, despite your kind regard, is little more than a wastrel. Why would rumors spread otherwise? I was concerned it might trouble Your Majesty’s heart…”

“You were worried about my feelings, you say?”

“Of course. How could we refuse Your Majesty’s help? Haha, hahaha.”

Canes laughed, nudging Karon’s side. Karon, who’d been quiet, joined in with a laugh.

“Such a pity. The rumors have spread so quickly across the empire. Seeing everyone so caught up in scandal, it feels like the empire’s peace has lasted too long.”

“Longer peace is always better, isn’t it?”

“True, but still.”

Bistet raised the corner of her mouth with a subtle expression. Her gaze turned to Karon.

“So, young duke, are you really going to marry that man?”

Calling him “that man” made it clear the Windsor family wasn’t to her liking. Karon raised an eyebrow, about to speak, but Canes pinched his thigh hard, forcing him to clamp his mouth shut. Canes answered with a smile instead.

“To quickly settle my troublesome, marriageable-age son and align with the neutral Windsor family, far from Prince Lazhuel’s faction, to strengthen the Chevinelle name—I trust you understand.”

“Of course… such deep intentions. I’ve always trusted you, Duke Chevinelle.”

The empress laughed heartily at Canes’s polished words. The maids and attendant laughed along, but Karon only raised the corner of his mouth wryly.

After tea, the empress instructed Luces Graham to see the Chevinelles off.

Karon thought it unnecessary, but that was just his opinion. Luces, with a shy face, escorted the Chevinelles out of the empress’s palace, making sure to leave an impression before returning inside.

As they crossed the corridor to board their carriage, a palace attendant approached Karon, handing him a note.

“Sir Yurik Windsor asked me to deliver this.”

“Yurik?”

Canes looked curious from the side, but Karon smirked and unfolded the note privately. Elegant handwriting—definitely Yurik Windsor’s. It listed a single location.

9 p.m. Lechebine Inn.

Lechebine Inn? Never heard of it.

An inn, though… Karon laughed in disbelief. Why did even this feel suggestive? He must be seriously pent-up.

As soon as they left the palace in the carriage, Karon sighed and slumped back. Canes loosened his constricting tie and removed his hat. Karon muttered, “Gotta get this marriage or whatever done quickly to avoid hearing this nonsense.”

Canes snorted.

“Didn’t you notice? She deliberately placed Luces Graham right next to you. The empress planned it all.”

“You think I didn’t know, Father? I figured it out the moment he sat beside me. That second son’s an omega.”

And platinum blonde, too. Karon laughed in disbelief.

Surely, knowing Yurik Windsor’s famous platinum hair, she assumed Karon’s taste was for blondes and hastily chose this attendant. How much effort went into finding someone from her faction who wouldn’t harm her interests and could back the second prince?

“Gotta hurry up with the engagement.”

“No turning back now. Not with the empress acting like this.”

Canes nodded.

• ~ *

Late at night, Yurik pulled his robe’s hood low and left the estate alone. His beloved horse, Gemini, whinnied softly and trotted slowly as Yurik led.

The capital’s streets, lit only by streetlamps, were quiet. Late-night wanderers were mostly vagrants or a few gentry and citizens finishing work late.

Yurik was heading to the city’s outskirts. The Lechebine Inn, where he’d arranged to meet Karon, was a rundown, shabby place on the edge of town.

He’d chosen it deliberately for such a weekday, when it was even less crowded, to avoid attention. He’d reserved the entire building for tonight. Solely to talk with Karon.

‘Tonight, we settle this.’

Yurik bit his lip, thinking. The secret Ariannen had guarded—that Sehil had fled—was exposed, but the other secret, that the family was drowning in debt and facing ruin, remained hidden.

So it had to be now. Marriage, a contract, or finding someone else besides Karon.

The last option had little chance. With rumors of Karon and Yurik’s marriage blanketing the empire, waiting for them to die down would mean the capital estate being sold off first, followed by rumors of the Windsor family’s ruin. That had to be prevented.

‘In the end, marriage is the answer…’

He’d always planned to marry. The butler had suggested it as a solution, and Yurik had agreed. With the family’s debt at stake and him alone, he needed something—money, a name like the Chevinelle dukedom, or ideally both.

But an alpha-alpha marriage? For it to work smoothly, certain conditions were needed. Yurik planned to be honest with Karon tonight and negotiate terms.

Lost in thought while riding, he soon entered an alley where even the streetlamps were dim.

After ten more minutes of riding, a shabby inn appeared. Lechebine Inn. Yurik tied Gemini up in front, left water and hay, and entered.

True to its rundown nature, the hall’s yellowish lighting gave an eerie vibe. Still, the absence of people brought Yurik a sense of calm. Lately, with so much attention on him, he needed a quiet place like this.

Yurik lit a candle on a table by the window and pulled out a tobacco pouch from his pocket. Scanning the neatly arranged cigars, he picked a cheap cigarette. He laid out several, lit one, and sat leisurely by the window, taking a deep drag and exhaling slowly.

Hoo.

The hazy smoke drifted out the window. Staring at it blankly, Yurik savored a moment of peace, lost in thought.

With the earl and his wife gone, no matter who Yurik married, he couldn’t consult them. Should he tell Karon everything? Karon would likely understand if he did—why Yurik was pursuing this marriage.

After all, the Chevinelle dukedom sent the proposal first, so there’d be no debate over who initiated it.

Lost in thought, he stubbed out the cigarette in an ashtray and put another in his mouth. Just then, the inn’s door creaked open. Turning slightly, he saw Karon in a similar black robe.

Karon hung his gray robe on a chair and smiled deeply at Yurik, smoking leisurely.

“Well, kept you waiting.”

Yurik nodded lightly, signaling it was fine, and flicked off ash. Karon approached with steady steps, removed his robe, pulled up a chair, and sat beside Yurik.

“You smoke? A noble lord like you?”

“Is that not allowed?”

Karon looked at Yurik in surprise. Yurik, frowning as if to say, “What’s the problem?” kept smoking. Karon shrugged and took one of the cigarettes Yurik had laid out.

“Smoked plenty of these on the battlefield. High-end cigars were a luxury there.”

Karon glanced at Yurik. Under the dim light, Yurik’s blue eyes seemed darker than in bright settings. Intrigued by the sight, Karon leaned in, placed a hand on Yurik’s chin to make him look up, and smiled.

“…”

Yurik blinked. His long eyelashes stood out. Karon grinned, locked eyes with him, and lit his cigarette by touching its tip to Yurik’s lit one, taking a long drag.

Hoo.

The smoke mingled as the flame caught. Yurik, watching Karon light it with difficulty, chuckled in disbelief. He lightly swatted away the hand on his chin. Karon smirked and let go.

For a while, only the sound of smoke and breathing filled the space between them. The silence, as both men smoked, was broken by Karon.

“So, what’s there to say?”

Yurik flicked off ash, stood, leaned against the windowsill, and faced Karon.

“Let’s get married.”

“That’s a bold proposal.”

“Not as bold as some, perhaps.”

“Before that, I need to know why the lofty young earl accepted the proposal himself.”

Yurik hesitated, lowering his head briefly before speaking.

“The family is on the brink of ruin.”

“What?”

“The Windsor family is facing ruin. The kind where even the estate gets sold off.”

Karon, incredulous, crossed his arms and stared at Yurik.

“Are you joking?”

“Does it sound like a joke?”

“Your face looks serious.”

“It’s no joke. You’d better bring a hefty dowry.”

“Oh, that’s the goal?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, a fiancé-to-be aiming for a dowry before marriage? That’s a first. I’m too thrilled—what do I do?”

Karon, dumbfounded, clutched his forehead. Yurik understood his reaction. Sighing, he explained the situation, holding back some details.

“The earl and his wife are away, and I’m the only one left to take responsibility. As you know, Sehil Windsor fled to avoid marriage.”

“Hmm, sounds like there’s nothing in it for me.”

“There isn’t. All you get is the Windsor name, honor, pride—intangible things the Chevinelle family lacks.”

“Ha…”

“Wasn’t that why His Grace the Duke sent the proposal? There must’ve been political reasons, too.”

Karon groaned, dodging the response. He couldn’t deny it.

Yurik looked at him directly and said, “Let’s get married. But there are conditions.”

“Conditions? Shouldn’t I be the one setting those? I’m the one being roped in.”

“…I mean we both set them.”

“Oh, a contract?”

Haha. Karon laughed in disbelief. Yurik, this man. He knew he was a cold, calculating alpha, but to propose a contract for his own marriage? Unimaginable.

Karon, chuckling in disbelief, remembered his own motives. Lazhuel’s goals. In the end, both had something to gain.

Karon propped his arm on the chair, rested his chin, and asked Yurik, “Alright. What’s the first condition of this all-important contract?”

Yurik, meeting Karon’s brazen gaze, thought to himself. Surely this man wouldn’t fall for him. Nor would he. It was his first love, but sometimes, when he saw him, his heart… No. This man was too dangerous.

Yurik swallowed hard. Karon watched his Adam’s apple bob, observing closely.