TPWTM 13

‘It really seems like he’s in a bad mood.’

‘Is it true he’s not partnered with Lord Chevinelle?’

‘The attire I saw was much fancier than this one.’

‘Goodness… what happened?’

The servants, communicating with glances, gestures, and lip movements, fell silent as Yurik looked in the mirror. Yurik adjusted his attire one last time. Even in less ornate clothing, he looked splendid. The nickname “Prince of the North” was not unwarranted.

Yurik put on silk gloves and slipped into the shoes offered by a servant. By the time he finished, it was nearly 4:30. The butler rushed over and said.

“Young Master, the carriage is ready. You might be a bit late if you leave now.”

“That’s fine.”

The triumphal ceremony would be held before countless imperial citizens, so attendance wasn’t strictly required. The victory ceremony was the same. Since Karon Chevinelle would be the star of the victory ceremony, it was better not to see him up close.

Seeing him would sway his emotions. It was better not to see him at all.

Unlike the anxious butler and servants, Yurik moved leisurely.

• ~ *

In the late afternoon, the warm summer sunlight shone gently. The streets were packed with people. Flower petals floated in the air, and finely dressed individuals laughed and chatted, fully enjoying the festival. For the triumphal ceremony, Karon stood in the capital, wearing a white uniform adorned with elaborate gold embroidery, stretching his stiff neck.

The result of three sleepless days of toil would unfold today. Behind him, a hundred soldiers stood in formation, and in front, the knight corps was aligned in their uniforms.

After the triumphal ceremony, the formalities would proceed before tens of thousands of citizens, the Emperor, the imperial family, and nobles. Then, at the victory banquet, commendations for achievements would follow, and after that…

Karon rubbed his forehead, stopping his thoughts there. Many things crossed his mind, but one stood out. The victory banquet. And Luches Graham. And…

Karon’s face darkened as he recalled that name. Simultaneously, he pictured that man’s face. Those vivid, Yuri-like blue eyes.

Just then, someone tapped Karon’s shoulder and spoke.

“Karon. Why are you zoning out?”

It was Eric. Karon pressed his eyelids and waved him off. Seeing this, Eric said.

“Already tired? There’s still a long way to go.”

“I know, you punk.”

“Sharp tone? Someone’s touchy, Commander.”

“Eric.”

“Yes, yes.”

Eric gave a casual salute and returned to his position. Karon sighed. Now wasn’t the time for distractions. He needed to focus on the triumphal ceremony. It was a crucial event. He had to think about navigating the crisis at hand, but…

Karon sighed again. He hadn’t expected the Empress to come on so strongly.

‘Or did I really not expect it?’

Had he truly not anticipated that the Empress would be desperate to control House Chevinelle? No. Karon clenched his teeth. He had known. He’d known, and Lazhuel had warned him.

‘What should I do?’

What could he do? His thoughts churned in turmoil. Karon adjusted his collar and stepped to the front of the aligned knight corps. The triumphal ceremony was about to begin. Soldiers with long horns lined up in front. Flags were raised high.

Bwooo!

A grand triumphal arch opened wide before Karon.

• ~ *

The triumphal ceremony was splendid. Yurik watched the event he had signed off on and prepared with a detached gaze. Fireworks burst all around, and flower petals rained from the sky. The day was maddeningly clear and bright, as if the heavens blessed it. In contrast, Yurik’s heart was utterly gloomy.

Bwooo!

Horns sounded, and fireworks exploded in succession. Soldiers and knights marched in formation as the ceremony proceeded. Karon, in a dazzling white uniform, led the proceedings with precision.

Yurik, with a tired face, watched Karon conduct the ceremony flawlessly. He hadn’t wanted to see that face, but the carriage had arrived smoothly, forcing him to.

‘Of course, things never go as I want.’

Yurik muttered to himself with a reluctant expression. As he averted his gaze, he briefly locked eyes with Prince Lazhuel. Startled, Yurik gave a slight nod in greeting. Lazhuel smiled subtly, but Yurik, weaving through the crowded nobles, didn’t notice.

The parading soldiers and knights raised their swords high. The resounding horn echoed. The victory ceremony was extraordinarily grand. In place of the bedridden Emperor, Prince Lazhuel was the star of this victory ceremony.

The prince stepped forward in the capital, receiving cheers from the citizens as he officiated. With the Empress, the young princess, and prince all present, it was a massive event with the entire palace knight corps mobilized.

Countless people shouted in excitement. Fireworks exploded wildly. Even in daylight, the gold-hued fireworks, crafted by relentless alchemists, consumed no small amount of magic stones. In an era of declining magic, such a display cost a fortune.

Yurik knew exactly how much was spent on it. Watching the bursts, he swallowed a small sigh. The treasury was exploding. In the sky.

As Prince Lazhuel handed the southern front’s commander-in-chief role to the Empress on behalf of the Emperor, the triumphal and victory ceremonies concluded.

With dazzling spectacles and the rare chance to see nobles and the imperial family, tens of thousands of citizens flooded the plaza. Soon, the prince and Empress rode a carriage through the cleared streets.

Prepared knights escorted them. Yurik, watching, slipped out of the plaza where the triumphal ceremony was held. All that remained was the victory banquet to formally commend achievements and celebrate.

The victory banquet spanned a week. The first day honored Prince Lazhuel’s achievements, the second the knights’, the third the soldiers’, and the fourth those who performed special missions. From the fifth day, it became a frenzy of nights. The imperial family ceased participation then.

Nobles could freely choose to attend from the fifth day onward. So, Yurik had to attend at least four parties.

His head ached. Attending four parties without a partner? The scandal would haunt him for a while.

‘But… what can I do?’

A powerful figure had intervened—what could he do now? It was too late.

If the event went smoothly, that would be enough. As a public servant.

Thinking this, Yurik slipped into the inner outer castle. The plaza hosting the triumphal ceremony connected to the capital, and its rear led directly to the palace, making it quiet since everyone was gathered at the plaza.

Yurik strode through a quiet garden with only a few servants milling about. He wanted to find a secluded spot to rest his eyes for a moment.

As he walked along a colonnade lined with evenly spaced pillars, he heard footsteps behind his own. The sound of polished shoes. Curious, Yurik stopped and turned. His eyes widened in slight surprise.

Karon, in a splendid uniform, was approaching with an urgent expression, almost running.

“Ka, Karon?”

Karon, with a slight frown, strode over, grabbed Yurik’s arm, and pulled him along. Mindful of Yurik’s injured arm, he took the other one.

Caught off guard and dragged along, Yurik was bewildered. Why was Karon, who should be leading the knights after the ceremony, here? He shouldn’t be able to slip away. More importantly, Yurik’s grabbed arm ached, and he tried to call Karon to stop.

“Karon, wait, Karon!”

But Karon, ignoring him, pulled Yurik through the colonnade into an annex building. It was an empty hall with no one around. As soon as they entered, Karon pushed Yurik against a wall. Alone in the vast space, so close together, tension rose naturally. Karon’s golden eyes glared fiercely at Yurik.

Yurik was startled but didn’t look away. He hadn’t done anything to deserve such a glare. He felt a creeping anger. What was this man doing to him? What was this rude behavior?

Karon scrutinized Yurik’s face closely, then asked quietly, his low voice echoing in Yurik’s ear.

“Why haven’t you contacted me all this time? Were you avoiding me?”

“What are you talking about? You’re the one who’s been busy with work.”

“You could’ve sent a message. Was your damn palace clerk life so tough you couldn’t send a single note?”

“Karon, why are you so worked up?”

At Yurik’s cool words, Karon shut his eyes tightly and let out a deep sigh.

“…Why didn’t you wear the attire I sent?”

Yurik looked at Karon. Their eyes met. Karon’s gaze wavered under Yurik’s steady stare. He knew. He knew how pointless this question was.

Yurik leaned slightly against the wall.

“Do you really want my answer?”

“Yuri.”

“Are you hoping I’ll make your choice for you?”

His whispering voice was low. Karon looked at Yurik. Those vivid blue eyes. Unwavering… the eyes he’d missed.

Karon slowly pulled his arm from the wall. It was the wrong question. Yurik didn’t know his situation. Karon had dragged him here out of frustration with his own confusion. He was angry that Yurik hadn’t sent a single message. He’d thought, as his betrothed, he’d at least check on him, but nothing.

Maybe Yurik took it lightly, and yes, Karon had taken it lightly too, at the prince’s suggestion. But… Karon stopped his chaotic thoughts, closing and opening his eyes.

Yurik was still looking at him. Karon forced a smile, his usual sly grin forming. He feigned nonchalance.

“No, don’t answer. You were busy, I get it. I was busy too. So busy I couldn’t see my dear betrothed’s face. I’m just glad to see you like this.”

Yurik narrowed his eyes at Karon, who suddenly masked his emotions. He’d heard from Luches… but Karon showed no intention of mentioning it. As his betrothed, he should’ve spoken about the partner issue. If Yurik hadn’t heard from Luches, he’d have faced the situation blindsided at the banquet.

“Don’t you have something to say to me?”

“Something to say?”

Karon leaned closer. Yurik tensed, pressed against the wall as Karon lowered his head. So close their noses nearly touched, Karon scanned Yurik’s face, then met his eyes. Vivid blue met darkened gold.

“I went to the trouble of getting your measurements for that attire, and I’m disappointed I didn’t get to see it.”

“…What?”

“Haha, kidding.”

It didn’t sound like a joke. Karon chuckled, wrapping an arm around Yurik’s neck. The embrace was awkward and uncomfortable. Yurik’s heart sank, and he blinked rapidly. Karon said.

“I thought of something. A way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s something. But… I might not be able to be your partner today, Yuri. Can you understand if I’m with someone else?”

“…Ha.”

What nonsense. Typical of the empire’s playboy. Asking him to understand when his betrothed was partnering with someone else? Stunned, Yurik watched as Karon batted his eyes coyly and rubbed his forehead against Yurik’s neck. Yurik was even more incredulous.

“Do as you please. Seems you don’t need my opinion. Never will.”

Yurik tried to push Karon’s arm away irritably, but his injured arm made it hard. Knowing this, Karon laughed and hugged him tighter. Yurik, more annoyed, gritted his teeth. Karon kissed his cheek brazenly, and despite Yurik’s horrified reaction, stepped back with a wink.

“As expected, my lovely betrothed has a generous heart.”

“Karon…!”

“Yuri, see you at the banquet.”

Karon grinned, waving as he backed away. Yurik, fuming, rubbed the kissed cheek, wiping it off. That man had, as always, completely swept him away.

Yurik tsked. The worries he’d briefly forgotten flooded back.

• ~ *

The victory banquet was held in the grandest banquet hall of the Palace of Luminous Light. At night, it sparkled like platinum, resembling a temple where a god might descend, beloved by artists and luminaries.

Pillars stood at regular intervals, displaying paintings and sculptures by renowned artists. Most famous was the ceiling painting of the Halcon Empire’s founding legend by Emperor Lanervete. The vivid, beautiful artwork complemented the white building, exuding an antique charm.

Nobles arrived one by one at the Palace of Luminous. Dressed extravagantly, they brought their partners and fully enjoyed the victory banquet. They’d clearly been busy primping since the triumphal ceremony. The dazzling jewels and attire were so bright it was hard to keep one’s eyes open.

In contrast, Yurik, unlike a banquet attendee, had been holed up in his palace office, chain-smoking. He sprayed perfume handed by a house servant a few times in the carriage, then handed it back, sighing softly.

At a victory banquet where every noble brought a partner, being the only one arriving alone, masking cigar smoke with perfume wouldn’t earn him better looks. He’d never imagined facing such humiliation. If only he’d collapsed from overwork—his body was annoyingly fine despite the all-nighters.

Yurik rubbed his forehead, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

‘It’s an unavoidable situation because of the Empress’s orders.’

It wasn’t entirely Karon’s fault. Attending with Luches as his partner wasn’t his fault. Karon knew that. That’s why he came to talk. Though, not explaining it to Yurik was an issue.

As a mature, dignified noble, Yurik understood. Complex political ties inevitably restricted actions.

‘…But shouldn’t he at least explain it himself?’

If he hadn’t heard from Luches, Yurik would’ve cursed Karon, feeling humiliated. He’d have been shocked, angry at not finding another partner and the damage to his house’s reputation.

‘Now… I’m half giving up.’

A powerful figure’s abuse of power left no room for anger, but if he hadn’t known, he would’ve been furious. Yet Karon, that idiot, didn’t even explain. Yurik thought his attitude was the problem.

“Lord Viscount, it’s time to enter.”

A servant outside the carriage knocked, announcing the time. Unable to delay (or rather, escape), Yurik sighed, adjusted his expression and attire, and stepped out.

Most nobles had already entered. Yurik regretted slightly. He should’ve arrived early and hidden behind a curtain. Not that his face could be hidden, but he thought it.

Despite his reluctant thoughts, Yurik’s appearance was elegant and noble as he walked to the entrance of the Palace of Luminous. Late arrivals recognized him, nodding or whispering, but Yurik deliberately ignored them, heading straight to the attendant checking entries.

“Yurik Windsor, Viscount.”

“Viscount Yurik Windsor. Welcome to the victory banquet… but your partner…?”

The attendant bowed politely, then asked curiously. Yurik didn’t answer, raising an eyebrow. The attendant, realizing his mistake, shut his mouth and bowed.

Thanks to the quick-witted attendant, Yurik entered the palace without further words.

The corridor to the banquet hall felt unusually short. At the hall’s entrance, two more attendants greeted him. The large double doors would open, and they’d announce his entry.

With a click, the ornately carved doors swung open.

“Viscount Yurik Windsor enters!”

With the attendant’s unnecessarily loud voice, the dazzling platinum hall was revealed. Squinting slightly at the blinding chandelier light, Yurik relaxed his expression and stepped gracefully into the hall.

“The viscount…”

“Why’s Lord Windsor alone?”

Nobles whispered, shocked at Yurik entering alone. Though he smiled elegantly, their darting glances and probing heads were swift. They sensed something intriguing had happened in high society.

A contest to uncover why the lofty Yurik Windsor entered the victory banquet without a partner continued for a while. Whispering nobles greeted him with kind smiles as he passed.

“Lord Windsor, good to see you. It’s been a while.”

“Lady Nansia, a pleasure.”

“Viscount Windsor, it’s been days. I heard the palace clerks worked hard. You finished well? They say Chancellor Evan pushed you hard.”

“Yes… well, it was tough. The Chancellor worked hard too.”

Yurik answered each question with a composed expression, standing tall and responding confidently. His poised demeanor kept nobles from asking why he didn’t come with the famous Karon.

“Yuri!”

Then, a high-pitched voice cut through the crowd. Pushing through, Countess Lustelien appeared. Yurik rubbed his forehead and sighed softly. In a place full of gossips, the arrival of a loose-lipped devil was trouble. He’d expected her, but he wanted to avoid her now.

Countess Lustelien hurried over, tapping Yurik’s shoulder. Her enthusiasm was clear, but Yurik desperately didn’t want to see her. He smiled awkwardly.

“Hello, Countess Lustelien.”

“Oh, no need for formalities between us—call me noona, Yuri~.”

Last time it was aunt, then great-aunt, now noona? Yurik, exhausted, just smiled. Countess Lustelien scanned the room, then whispered loudly enough for all to hear.

“Yuri~! Why’re you alone? Where’s Lord Chevinelle? Did you leave him behind? Is he late preparing for the victory ceremony? Goodness… leaving a partner alone like this!”

Her loud voice carried to everyone. All eyes gleamed, watching for his response. Feeling their piercing stares, Yurik sighed, wondering how to answer without damaging his honor.

“Well…”

As Yurik finally spoke after a long pause, Countess Lustelien widened her eyes, urging him on. He was about to respond with a displeased expression when, thankfully, the attendant’s voice announcing another entrance interrupted.

“Young Duke Karon Chevinelle and Young Lord Luches Graham enter!”

All eyes turned that way. Yurik, with an awkward expression, covered his mouth.

Countess Lustelien, speechless, looked between Yurik and Karon, who had just entered with Luches.

“Goodness, Yuri…!”

As she tried to speak, Yurik, sensing displeasure and subtle humiliation in the onlookers’ gazes, frowned slightly and smiled.

“That’s how it is.”

Countess Lustelien tried to say more, but fortunately, Prince Lazhuel’s entrance followed, allowing Yurik to avoid unnecessary chatter.

At the prince’s arrival, everyone bowed. Now, Yurik just had to hold his place until the Empress arrived, wait for the prince to be commended for the southern front, and slip away when the chance came. That would end today. Thinking this, Yurik tried to steady his heavy heart.

Yurik could feel the nobles’ eyes constantly scanning him, Karon, and Luches. He tried not to look in their direction, but Karon kept catching his eye. Dressed in his splendid uniform, Karon escorted Luches with a stoic expression, occasionally glancing around.

Each time, Yurik thought Karon was looking at him. It could have been his imagination. Why would someone with a partner look at another? Mocking himself for the absurd thought, Yurik deliberately moved to the opposite side of the hall. He took a champagne glass from a passing servant and drank.

The dazzling chandeliers. The ornate attire. The extravagant nobles. He was already growing tired of it. Yurik leaned against a wall, wanting to escape the scrutiny, but having long become the banquet’s hot topic, his wish went unfulfilled. The nobles watched him and Karon, spinning various rumors.

As he handed his empty glass to a servant, another noble approached. It was a group of Omega nobles he’d seen somewhere before. Yurik recognized them as the crowd that often hung around Leslie Adermond.

Leslie was nowhere in sight, but a rather pretty male noble approached with a sly smile. Yurik knew his name: Alden Nuken, the eldest of the Nuken barony. Beside him was a tall Alpha noble, trailing like a servant.

“Lord Windsor, hello. This is our first meeting, isn’t it? Are you enjoying the victory banquet?”

He couldn’t ignore the question. Yurik glanced at them, responding with a faint smile.

“Hello, Young Lord Nuken. I’m enjoying myself. You seem to be as well.”

“Haha, of course. It’s so much better with a partner, you know.”

“Is that so?”

The subtle jab was reminiscent of Leslie, though Leslie was a cut above. Yurik inwardly tsked.

Alden Nuken glanced at Yurik, then clung to the Alpha noble beside him, grabbing his hand. They seemed very close, judging by their physical proximity. Yurik raised an eyebrow.

“Coming with a partner is the highlight of the victory banquet… So why didn’t you bring one, Lord Windsor? Could it be…”

Alden lowered his eyebrows, murmuring.

“Did Young Lord Luches steal Lord Chevinelle from you? As expected… They say an Alpha with an Alpha is a bit much, don’t they? No matter how outstanding you are, Lord Windsor, it’s quite different from an Omega’s charm.”

“…”

Scratch that earlier thought. His jab was exactly like Leslie’s. Yurik gave a dry laugh. Where did they learn such crude tactics? He was curious. Though Alden spoke in a whisper, his voice carried to those around. The gathered nobles giggled, looking at Yurik. Some watched to see how he’d react.

Yurik just wanted to stay quiet and leave. He didn’t want to cause a scene or crush anyone. Having prepared this banquet for so long, he only wanted to enjoy it peacefully. With his hands behind his back, he gave a short laugh.

Alden didn’t like Yurik’s relaxed demeanor. Seeing his proud, high-Alpha confidence, he wanted to break it. Playing with Omegas was one thing, but for Yurik to act like an Omega, parading with the most famous Alpha? That was unacceptable, and frankly, he was jealous. Jealous that Yurik was an Alpha.

Alden swallowed dryly, meeting Yurik’s blue eyes. And…

‘He’s so tempting.’

He wanted him. Now was his chance. Yurik was an exceptionally perfect Alpha in his own right.

“Why not reach out to those who want you? There are so many Omegas here, and you’re an Alpha. Isn’t it a waste? The ‘Prince of the North’ nickname is too precious for that, don’t you think?”

“Right.”

“Exactly.”

“Come play with us instead.”

The Omega nobles gathered around Alden raised their voices, casting longing glances at Yurik. Sticky hands reached for him. Yurik looked at Alden and the others with a subtle expression. His gaze and silence seemed like permission. Emboldened, Alden grabbed Yurik’s hand.

But then, a hand slapped Alden’s away. Instantly annoyed, Alden turned sharply to glare at the intruder.

“What… Gasp…!”

It was someone completely unexpected.

A man in a uniform blending red and gold, with neatly swept dark blonde hair. He was the most splendid and attention-grabbing noble in the room. Yurik looked at him with slight surprise. His deep green eyes curved into a smiling expression. Carefully pushing down the arm Alden had grabbed, he said.

“Isn’t this the arm that was injured? You should be careful, Lord Yurik.”

“Oh…”

Yurik blinked, struggling to respond. It was Prince Lazhuel, the 1st Prince.

“Oh…”

Yurik didn’t know what to say, blinking in confusion. The other party was someone startling enough. Prince Lazhuel, the highest in line for the throne and a key figure in the power struggle with the Empress.

Though House Windsor was a founding noble house, its political neutrality meant Yurik rarely got involved with the 1st Prince or the Empress. His involvement was limited to serving the imperial family diligently as a clerk. Moreover, Prince Lazhuel rarely attended social parties.

‘The victory banquet is one he wouldn’t miss, though.’

Unable to hide his surprise, Yurik stared at him. He’d momentarily forgotten the banquet was for the 1st Prince. Quickly composing himself, Yurik bowed respectfully.

“I greet Your Highness.”

Placing a hand over his heart and bending slightly, Yurik was waved off by Lazhuel.

“That’s enough greeting. More importantly, are you really alright?”

“Pardon?”

“Your arm. I heard it was injured.”

“Oh, yes. It’s much better now.”

“Not fully healed, then? You should be careful.”

“Yes… that’s right.”

“Even if Lord Yurik allowed it, don’t grab him recklessly. Especially someone with a partner.”

Lazhuel turned to Alden with a smile. At his words, Alden and the surrounding nobles widened their eyes, glancing at each other. Yurik was equally startled. Partner? Was he deliberately stirring things up? Everyone here knew Karon, Yurik’s supposed partner, had entered with Young Lord Luches Graham.

Lazhuel, as if unaware, scanned the room, then smiled faintly, sensing the awkward atmosphere. Yurik, unable to speak, pressed his lips shut. Whatever he said, his honor would surely take a hit. Fatigue was already clinging to him thickly.

Being entangled with Karon never led to anything good.

‘Sigh.’

Sighing inwardly, wondering how to explain to the 1st Prince, Yurik stood awkwardly. Lazhuel extended a hand. Yurik, brushing back his hair, looked at the hand with a puzzled expression. Lazhuel smiled brightly, his eyes curving, a smile so radiant it lit up the surroundings.

“If I kept you waiting, I’m sorry, Lord Yurik. I was so busy I couldn’t contact you in time. We should’ve at least entered together.”

“…Pardon?”

“Forgive me. I may be a failure as a partner, but for today, please indulge me for my reputation’s sake, Yuri.”

“Your Highness?”

“Yuri, take my hand.”

A gasp erupted around them. Someone hurriedly covered their mouth. Yurik nearly let out a dumbfounded sound. His eyes widened, staring at Lazhuel. What was this nonsense!

Frozen stiff, Yurik watched as Lazhuel, unfazed, smirked and lifted Yurik’s lingering hand, grasping it firmly. Startled, Yurik looked at him as if waking from a dream. Lazhuel chuckled silently and winked.

“It’s my fault for being late, but you look beautiful today, Yuri. Your injury might prevent dancing, but how about some fresh air on the terrace?”

“Oh…”

“Haha. Still upset? What should I do to cheer you up?”

Lazhuel spoke casually, naturally guiding Yurik to link arms. Stunned, Yurik didn’t resist. Lazhuel escorted him with measured steps. Every noble’s gaze in the banquet hall fixed on them.

Yurik managed a smile, frowning slightly. He couldn’t grasp what was happening. Then, Lazhuel leaned close to his ear. The crowd’s murmurs grew louder. The two looked too close, too perfectly matched.

“Surprised? If so, I’m sorry. I’ll explain this sudden turn later.”

Lazhuel whispered. Yurik nodded, looking ahead. Among the murmuring nobles, he saw Karon with Luches. Luches had his head bowed darkly, while Karon, in contrast, wore a bright smile, raising one corner of his mouth and a hand in greeting. Yurik smiled back but glared with his eyes.

What was that guy doing? Abandoning his partner like that. Yurik coldly turned to Lazhuel, who was smiling kindly at him. His curved green eyes were picturesque, unlike Karon’s. Somehow… Yurik sighed softly, feeling a release.

As the 1st Prince and Yurik stepped onto the terrace, the murmurs grew into open chatter.

Countess Lustelien covered her mouth with a fan, laughing.

“Of course! That’s it! Yuri must’ve had no choice but to accept His Highness’s offer! How could anyone refuse the imperial family, even a ducal house?”

“But they’ve already announced their engagement…”

“Goodness, how could His Highness…?”

Watching the chatter, Luches Graham’s face darkened further. The glances at him were filled with sharp hostility.

“See? The Young Duke wouldn’t make a losing move.”

“Losing? What loss? Isn’t he the Empress’s lapdog? That’s no loss. It’s a calculated meeting, isn’t it?”

Holding wine glasses, the young lords glanced at Luches. Karon, leaning against a wall, quietly observed the gossiping nobles with a subtle, hardened expression, then took a drink from a passing servant and handed it to Luches.

“Don’t listen to nonsense.”

“Oh, yes. Yes…”

“Hold your head up. Showing your neck to them only makes them pounce more.”

Karon muttered, sipping his drink. Luches glanced at Karon, who was advising him, and took a sip of the drink. He was right. Acting like a defeated loser was bad for both him and Lord Karon. But Luches felt himself shrinking. Especially since it was Lord Yurik… Luches bit his lip. It all felt like his fault.

Meanwhile, Karon, concerned for Luches, glanced at the terrace where Yurik and Lazhuel had gone. The translucent terrace doors, with curtains drawn, hid the outside, ensuring privacy.

‘…Annoying.’

Karon furrowed his brows and tsked. It had been a while since he’d felt this irritated. Though he’d asked Lazhuel for this himself, seeing him offer his hand to Yurik and their eyes meet had soured his mood. From the moment their platinum and dark blonde hair looked so perfectly matched, he’d been fighting the urge to separate them.

“Damn it.”

Karon gulped his drink, burning his throat. If he stayed sober, he’d storm the terrace before the banquet even started. That would only make him look desperate.

Then, Duke Canes, who had arrived separately, approached Karon, shooing away the others.

Seeing Karon’s contorted face, Duke Canes shook his head slightly and whispered.

“You fool, is this the best you could do?”

“Go away, Father. I’m already annoyed enough.”

“Don’t you know how to use your head?”

“I’m using it plenty.”

“Is that head just for show?”

“Come on, aren’t you being too harsh on your son?”

“What about Yuri? You must feel bad for him. By the way, he and His Highness look good together, don’t they? Must sting.”

“If you know, just go.”

“Hmph. Idiot.”

“Yes, I’m an idiot like my father.”

“Tch…”

Canes, with a reluctant expression, glanced at Karon and turned back to the banquet hall. Karon closed his eyes tightly and sighed deeply. Today, there was much to endure.

• ~ *

Yurik wondered if fainting and being carried out would be less exhausting. Closing his eyes felt like it could knock him out, but the situation allowed nothing.

‘Sigh…’

The palace’s outdoor view at night was stunning. True to its name as the Palace of Light, even the garden was adorned with vibrant lights. Of course, Yurik had budgeted for those too.

‘Unnecessary, useless, and beautiful.’

Yurik admired them with weary eyes. Beautiful things often fulfilled their value through beauty alone. Sometimes, their reason for existing came from their lack of utility. Trying to clear his mind of complex thoughts, Yurik focused.

He glanced sideways. The 1st Prince stood there. Under the night lights, his profile was strikingly different from Karon’s. If Karon was a ruggedly handsome man brimming with wild charm, Lazhuel was like a royal from a painting in an art gallery. Which he was, after all.

Seeing his glossy, porcelain-like face as he smiled calmly, Yurik couldn’t understand why this man had called him his partner and brought him to the terrace.

The 1st Prince’s position in the Halcon Empire was unique. Despite the Empress’s relentless pressure, he’d never backed down or lost. He’d always pushed his agenda and expanded his influence, even against her maternal family’s pressure and her faction’s fierce political attacks. This had been true since he was seventeen. So, for about ten years since graduating from the military academy, he’d been battling Empress Bistette.

Everyone expected him to become crown prince at twenty, but the Empress’s opposition blocked it. He was even sent to the southern front. He could’ve resented the Emperor, but instead, he strengthened his resolve and built his influence there.

‘That aspect… it only proved he’s crown prince material.’

This victory banquet celebrated his triumph but also symbolized his solidified position.

If things continued, the moment the Emperor regained any health, the 1st Prince would become crown prince. That’s why the Empress was desperate. She wanted her young son as crown prince, but there was a grown, exceptional legitimate heir. One who knew his own worth.

“You’re staring so hard, it’s a bit embarrassing.”

Lazhuel smiled awkwardly, noticing Yurik’s prolonged gaze. Caught deep in thought, Yurik apologized.

“Oh, sorry.”

“No need to apologize. Want a drink?”

“…Thank you.”

Lazhuel naturally took a drink from a waiting servant and handed it to Yurik. Yurik accepted, meeting the prince’s intense green eyes.

“I have something to ask…”

“About the partner situation, right?”

Lazhuel smiled, finishing Yurik’s sentence. Yurik gave an awkward smile, sipping his drink. To say the prince helped out of kindness… every move he made carried too much weight.

“I’m worried this might trouble Your Highness.”

“Trouble? What trouble?”

“You never know. Some lunatics might hear you’re with a clerk under the imperial chancellor and claim your personal biases affect bill approvals.”

“Haha!”

Lazhuel burst into laughter at Yurik’s blunt words, unable to contain himself. Yurik stared at him blankly, not understanding what was funny. It was a serious matter to him.

“I’m serious. You should be concerned.”

“No, haha, you’re right, Yuri. I should be. But… I just find it so amusing how candid you are with me.”

“Oh, my word choice was too… casual. Sorry, Your Highness.”

“No need to apologize. I like it. Since we’re partners and I’ve even allowed a nickname, maybe we can be more relaxed. What do you think, Yuri?”

As Lazhuel suddenly leaned closer, Yurik stepped back in surprise. His back hit the railing, with nowhere to retreat. Slightly flustered, he tried to smile nonchalantly.

The prince seemed far less reserved than Yurik had observed before. Though tall, Yurik had to look up slightly to meet Lazhuel’s eyes, as he was a hand taller. Eye contact was proper etiquette, but Lazhuel’s intense gaze made Yurik subtly shift his eyes aside.

“…Call me as Your Highness pleases. I don’t mind.”

“Then call me casually too, Yuri. Like Rize.”

“What? I couldn’t possibly…”

“Too much? Why not? Can’t I do that much for my first-ever partner?”

Yurik recoiled at Lazhuel’s tilted head and words.

“Your first partner is me? My goodness… Your Highness, why are you helping me? And choosing a partner so easily? You know how important the victory banquet’s partner slot is. It can’t be for my sake. Did someone ask you to…”

“No, Yuri.”

Lazhuel soothed the increasingly agitated Yurik, speaking softly.

“It is for you, Yuri. And maybe for me too.”

“…Pardon?”

“It’s an important slot, so I chose you, Lord Yurik. You’re not saying my choice was wrong, are you, Yuri?”

“No, I… Sigh…”

Unable to continue, Yurik ran a hand through his hair. The carefully styled hair by the maids was ruined, but he had no energy to care. Lazhuel just smiled leisurely.

‘Right, as if it’s for me.’

The prince said it was for Yurik, but it was probably a lie. Yurik thought so. Choosing him as a partner offered no political gain for the prince.

Though a founding house, House Windsor’s neutrality meant it offered no leverage. Its lands, even if supported, were surrounded by the prince’s allied nobles, offering little help. No notable specialties either…

‘Really nothing special.’

Truly, nothing. Except for being a founding house.

‘Is it simpler to think that way?’

If he assumed the prince helped him out of pity for his predicament… was that too simplistic? Yurik sighed softly, sipping his drink. He wanted to stop the headache-inducing thoughts.

But the 1st Prince’s actions would cause ripples, and nobles would swarm to uncover why he took Yurik’s hand. Yurik was already tired thinking about it.

Lazhuel quietly studied Yurik’s face before speaking.

“Yuri, no more questions?”

“Questions… Well, I have many, but…”

Yurik gazed at the garden’s vibrant night lights. The beautiful palace, the soft music, the drinks, the handsome man, and the perfect night weather. The moment all his sleepless preparations ended.

Did he need to make more trouble? Couldn’t he just close his eyes for one day and leave everything behind?