Chapter 11.6

Unlike the couples on the neighboring balconies who started a second round, Alpen did not go for another. He was never the type to push his partner just to satisfy his own desires.

Alpen carefully laid Syria onto the sofa, finishing up neatly with a fine handkerchief he pulled from his chest. Now, he was admiring his own body, his biceps and triceps standing out. Alpen always checked his upper body after intimacy.

‘Ha… What is he doing?’

At least he didn’t look as dazed as before, but the way he stared at his own body showed his high self-esteem.

As Syria stared in disbelief, Alpen noticed her gaze and lifted his head. Their eyes met, and Alpen’s mouth, which had been about to smile, flattened into a straight line.

“If you’re going to keep admiring me like that, why won’t you accept my proposal?”

“…Excuse me? Admiring?”

Like a true gentleman, his pale forefinger traced his firm abs. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a sly smile, as if to say, “How could you not fall for a body sculpted by the gods?”

She hadn’t fallen for his looks or expensive jewels, so now he seemed to be pushing his manly body as his weapon. Syria fiddled with her wine glass, searching for a reason that would make sense.

‘Sigh, such a reason doesn’t exist.’

She knew the original story—he was destined to be a hopeless cheat. Even if that weren’t the case, no husband in the world would accept and love her unusual preferences.

Even now, losing herself every time she saw a man’s backside, getting married wouldn’t magically cure her fixation.

‘It will never go away.’

She’d tried many times to control herself in Korea, wanting to avoid trouble, but nothing worked. She could already see herself being thrown out, penniless, for secretly groping men’s backsides after marriage.

‘If that’s the case, it’s better to stay single.’

She could just stick close to her father, the Duke, and live her life discovering the backsides of men she liked. And when desire struck…

Syria, unable to keep her hands still, glanced at Alpen. He didn’t rush her, waiting patiently for her answer.

“Duke! I’m really a very lacking woman.”

“…I know that.”

He… She’d tried to be humble, but his arrogant reply made something rise up inside her. She forced herself to swallow it down.

“I’m not the kind of proper, modest woman you want. If we marry, I’ll be a great disgrace to the Roxihart Duchy.”

“You don’t have to act so prim in front of me.”

He let out a small laugh, as if wondering why she worried. His blue eyes curved gently, but his face was still annoyingly self-assured. Syria realized he’d never understand if she kept beating around the bush, so she spoke plainly.

“You’ll soon have another woman you love, Duke.”

Judging from Prezia and Alpen’s reactions, they weren’t involved yet, but Prezia was determined not to back down, so it was likely they’d become lovers soon.

But as Alpen smiled softly, his nose suddenly wrinkled. A chilly atmosphere settled over him, making him look like someone she’d never seen before.

“…Is there someone else you care about, Lady?”

“Someone I care about? No, there isn’t.”

She answered without hesitation, almost too quickly.

‘Ah, was that too fast? Maybe I shouldn’t say that right after being with Alpen…’

Alpen’s eyes narrowed at her quick reply. As a moment of silence passed, Syria sat there with a nervous smile.

Thud!

Alpen, sitting upright, slapped the sofa’s armrest, startling her.

“If there’s no other man you care for, then I can wait.”

“…Wait? Not give up?”

“You took my first, so you must take responsibility.”

“You mean… your lips, right?”

Alpen smiled splendidly and placed her hand on his lap. The part she’d just held began to slowly swell at her touch.

“Surely not… this?”

Syria asked again, unable to believe he was a v*rgin. She patted him gently, then withdrew her hand.

Alpen nodded once, eyes relaxed. He was telling the truth. Of course, all three men she’d been with were v*rgins with her, though she had no way of knowing.

“….”

She hadn’t actively seduced him, but Syria was at a loss for words. She considered lying and saying she was also a v*rgin, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Once again, the conversation about marriage ended without resolution.

* * *

While they were talking on the sofa, imperial guards appeared and took Alpen away. The Emperor was not about to let go of someone as important as the Chancellor.

The guards had searched the banquet hall, and even before they arrived, the sound of doors opening and the cries of couples next door gave away what was happening.

‘We almost got caught in the act.’

Syria was relieved not to have been discovered in such an embarrassing situation.

“Ha… This is stressful…”

She hadn’t intended to get involved with anyone, but now she had three partners who’d confessed to her. Firenze confessed out loud, Alpen proposed with a ring, and the Emperor, though mistaken, said he’d take responsibility.

She hadn’t planned it, but now, continuing these relationships made her feel strange. She’d wondered before if it was okay to be involved with three men, but at the time, things were complicated, and everyone—including herself—seemed happy, so she let it go.

But after their confessions, she couldn’t help feeling unsettled.

“Ha… Should I call each one separately and explain?”

She pondered quietly for a while, but soon, new noises interrupted her thoughts.

“Haa, haa… Please, hurry and take me.”

Apparently, the third round was starting again now that the guards were gone. Syria eventually covered her ears and headed alone into the banquet hall.

Inside, bright lights and lively music set the mood, and the young Lords and Ladies danced elegantly in circles.

Pretending not to look, Syria secretly admired the backsides of the young Lords. Then she spotted a familiar male figure, and her eyes lit up.

* * *

Jacob visited the banquet hall again today, just as he had yesterday.

Fortunately, using dark magic, he’d altered his facial muscles, so no one recognized him. Now in his late twenties, Jacob appeared to be an ordinary middle-aged gentleman wearing a fedora. Restricted in his movements, he attended under a new identity with a formal invitation.

‘The Emperor must be detained now…’

He’d already received word about the Emperor’s whereabouts from a spy he’d planted in the Imperial Palace. The Chief Attendant assigned to watch the Emperor’s every move was reliable and never acted out of turn.

With everyone gathered in the main palace, the Imperial Palace was quiet except for the banquet. Previously, the main palace’s grand hall was used for such events, but the previous Crown Prince, indulging in luxury, had decorated the Imperial Palace’s grand hall with even more splendid, modern interiors for his coronation.

This was the place. Thanks to this, Jacob could blend in as a regular noble and enter the Imperial Palace without trouble.

“Would you care for a drink?”

A passing attendant offered a glass of champagne, droplets forming on the clear liquid.

“Thank you.”

Jacob stepped closer to take the glass.

“We’ve finished checking all the guards’ routes and shift times.”

The man, acting as a regular attendant, whispered in a low voice, careful not to be overheard. This was the suspicious man Syria had noticed.

“Understood.”

Jacob’s navy blue eyes flashed dangerously. Any hint of a smile was quickly erased.

‘Finally, tomorrow.’

Just as he was about to instruct preparations for tomorrow, Jacob sensed someone watching him and paused. He turned to see the face of the Lady of Dronia, sending a very suspicious look his way.

* * *

‘Hmm… That’s odd.’

At first, Syria had simply noticed a strange man with a stone and tilted her head. But now, the man was close to an elderly gentleman, whispering something. They seemed to be exchanging drinks in an ordinary way, but the time they spent together was oddly long. Syria noticed one thing that stood out:

‘Why does that old man have such a firm backside?’

It’s impossible to gauge age by the lower body alone, but unless it’s a special case, you can usually estimate roughly.

A special case would be someone not quite human—like her father, who seemed untouched by the passage of time.

‘He doesn’t look like someone extraordinary…’

His face was old, but only his backside looked youthful. No matter how much one exercises, gravity eventually takes its toll on the elderly.

She could understand if he was in his 40s or 50s, but the old gentleman looked well past sixty. Most of the guests tonight were young nobles, so there were no peers for comparison.

Then, the old man turned and his eyes met hers.

‘Ah… Did he notice?’

Feeling she had committed the rudeness of staring too intently, Syria awkwardly lowered her gaze diagonally, but it seemed she was already too late. The old man was approaching her.

‘Is he coming to me? No way. Just walk past. Pass by. I have nothing to say.’

She thought it would be strange to suddenly bolt and run away, so Syria just prayed inwardly. But her wish was mercilessly shattered.