The tennis racket that had been held up fell onto the grass. Edmond lay flat on his back, looking at the sky. Though Izer warned him with his eyes, he ignored it and spoke gloomily while gazing at the sky.

“Grand Duke Letters’ rebellion doesn’t look good.”

“I know. Thanks to that, our story has been pushed from the front page to page two for over a week now.”

Izer, standing properly beside him, replied. A autumn breeze that barely made it past the guards surrounding the two at a reasonable distance cooled their sweat.

Edmond raised his upper body with a grunt. Dry grass fell from his back. A young mute servant boy quickly ran over and began carefully dusting off the prince’s back.

“This isn’t something to discuss lightly. Ferdinand II has requested aid from Treven.”

“If you’re curious about opinions regarding deployment, I won’t respond. It would be much better to ask the military.”

Izer already had a set answer. He, being far from military matters, clearly knew which areas he shouldn’t interfere in.

While he was grateful that Edmond had stepped in to prevent Heinrich Montes from exposing the scandal about the young duke killing his adoptive father, this meant Izer needed to stay even further away from this deployment issue.

Every move of a high-ranking noble is interpreted politically. Given that his friendship with Edmond was public knowledge, he had to consider how his actions might influence the future king.

Edmond answered.

“Fortunately, I won’t need to trouble you about that part. At last night’s meeting, we decided to send reinforcements.”

As expected. After waiting for the young servant to leave, Izer lowered his voice. It was quiet enough that even the guards couldn’t hear.

“The generals made a big decision. Who took the lead?”

“I did.”

A cold wind swept through. Izer asked in a low voice.

“……Your Highness personally?”

Edmond explained calmly.

“Ferdinand II sent an official letter. He said he’d give up his monopoly on the sea routes if we provide thirty thousand troops. All that’s left is His Majesty’s official signature and declaration of deployment.”

“I understand it was too big an offer to refuse. But for Your Highness to strongly advocate sending troops, and thirty thousand at that……”

Izer’s expression darkened.

“Your Highness, Grand Duke Letters is not someone to be taken lightly. If by chance the Grand Duke’s rebellion succeeds, the shame Treven will feel will be incomparable to the last war. The people’s resentment toward Your Highness will be the same.”

“I don’t want to be hanged either. That’s why we must stop Letters at all costs.”

Edmond turned his head. His face showed determination.

“Accept the commission, Duke.”

Izer’s face hardened.

“Your Highness, I have no connection to the military. To be commissioned, I need at least basic training. It’s impossible time-wise.”

“It’s possible through special commissioning procedures. Enter as a second lieutenant and assist Captain Schwenn. I’ll tell Count Schwenn to keep you in the rear.”

“……”

“If you achieve merit, it will benefit both Treven and me. Of course, you might make mistakes, but since it’s not a position with huge responsibilities, it can be smoothed over.”

“……”

“You may be a low-ranking officer on the battlefield, but here you’re Duke Chesterfield. Find me someone bold enough to demand punishment for one tactical mistake from someone who’ll simply retire after the war. Well, there was one, but we took care of him, didn’t we?”

Public and private matters should be separate. But strict separation of public and private affairs is impossible. An officer on the battlefield was a businessman in society and someone’s son and husband at home.

Duke Chesterfield is the second most powerful figure in Treven after the royal family. Though unspoken, it was speculated that he might possess even greater wealth than the Tervis royal family—an opinion that seemed plausible even to Izer, who didn’t know the exact extent of royal wealth.

For that Duke Chesterfield, especially one who would merely be following orders from the chain of command above and adding occasional input, no one would dare attack him for a single mistake. Even General Schwenn wouldn’t assign him major responsibilities.

But regardless of role, a soldier had to go to war. To a place where bullets fly and life could end at any moment.

Izer stepped back.

“This is an unreasonable order. I have no obligation to become a soldier……”

Edmond stood up with his tennis racket. He waved off the servant who rushed to brush grass from his legs.

“That might be true for Duke Chesterfield.”

“……”

“But it’s different for General Berienne’s son-in-law.”

Izer lifted his racket with an expressionless face. Soon, the sound of the racket hitting the ball rang out.

And that day, one cursed soul left this world. 

 * * *

 The room was filled with the smell of s*men.

Between the woman’s legs, pressed against the wall with her sticky body, a c*ck relentlessly moved in and out. Every time her sweat-soaked hands slipped, a fierce voice commanded from behind.

“Stand properly.”

“Ahh!”

Her br*asts, crushed against the wall, hurt. Though she was already pressed tightly against it, his continuous pushing from behind made it hard to breathe.

The squelching sounds became like white noise.

“Huff.”

Izer sighed and pulled his hips back. Between her spread p*ssy, thick s*men dripped down.

Celian, leaning against the wall with her hands, could only blink weakly. Her legs trembled.

Everything that had just happened felt like a dream. They had held Harris Chesterfield’s funeral, and Izer had locked the bedroom door and gone out.

Celian had weakly knocked on the door, then returned to bed crying and fell asleep, woke to the sensation of her body being shaken, screamed like a beast at the climax that hit as soon as she woke, and then the excited man lifted her body…….

It was the first time since their marriage that Izer had come home drunk. The mix of strong liquor and pungent s*men made her feel like vomiting.

Her body was moved to the bed. The intention behind placing a pillow under her hips was too obvious, but since that night when she was tied up while trying to remove his cum, only to have her fingers trapped inside, she had given up such futile efforts.

The man’s fingers forcefully spread the woman’s thighs. The area around the gap that couldn’t fully close was messily white. His seed was undeniably messy—when Izer pushed that white liquid back inside Celian with his fingers, she shuddered at the uncomfortable sensation.

He seemed displeased by her rejection. His drunken voice whispered,

“You should take it nicely, Lian.”

“Ugh……”

“Who knows? If you bear a child, I might be satisfied enough to let you go.”

It was absurd for a man who had just returned from a funeral to discuss a child that didn’t even exist. Meanwhile, the window bars cast cross-shaped shadows over him—if not God’s malicious joke, then what else could it be?

A stiff tip pushed between her thighs again, and soft flesh was crushed under his firm chest. Izer mumbled.

“Celian, how do you think you’d feel if I died?”

Drunk Izer Chesterfield’s logic seemed scattered. However, Celian understood the source of his words.

Harris Chesterfield, the evil man who had returned to a handful of dirt.

Empty eyes stared into bloodshot ones marked by pleasure.

Any trace of past gentleness had long vanished. His face, left only with desperate hatred, corrupted passion, and obsessive madness, was sharp and miserable.

Harris Chesterfield had succeeded in tearing Izer’s soul to shreds. By making him similar to himself, he had ‘won.’

Though Harris Chesterfield was dead, Harris Chesterfield had also won. The fallen loser muttered dejectedly.

“Was that a foolish question? To someone who wishes for my death.”

“……”

If asked whether she wanted to escape this mad man, of course she did. But the fundamental reason was that the more this man stayed close to Celian, the more broken he became.

They said that before she first stepped into this house as a tutor, he had been a sensitive and irritable but gentlemanly young man.

But from the day she was displayed like a doll before his friends, the man who had shown no interest in women began calling her to his bedroom like a personal wh*re. After Celian stayed up all night beside the sick Izer, it intensified.

And Izer Chesterfield shattered. On the night he learned that the woman now covered in his s*men had betrayed him.

“You must wish for my death.”

Izer, interpreting her silence as confirmation, rambled. His cold hand caressed her tightly clenched jaw.

“After all I’ve done to you. Even what I’m doing now is no different from a beast.”

Muttering about how being driven by the obsession to reproduce offspring was nothing if not bestial, Izer moved his head down to bury his face in her chest.

Today, he seemed too precarious, too weak.

“Lian, I’ve always…… wanted to live.”

“……”

“That’s still true even now……”

Her body began to shake. Listening to the wet sounds, Celian closed her eyes.

Tonight seemed particularly long. 

* * *

 The sobbing female body trembled violently. Unable to crawl forward anymore, Celian lay face down, just breathing heavily until her body went limp. She had fallen asleep.