“Have you been well?”
Etienne hesitated, then, like someone shy of strangers, edged closer to speak to Rishar. If Rishar addressed him as the Empire’s prince with full courtesy, he had to behave the same.
“I have been well.”
“I heard there were many ups and downs...”
Letting his words trail, Etienne moved only his eyes to study Rishar. Seen up close, his face was the same as in memory and not. The boyish cast had fallen away, masculine lines had formed, and his gaze had deepened to match his matured eyes.
The greatest change was his height. Three years ago they had stood eye to eye; now everything was different. Etienne looked up, awkward, at a Rishar much taller than himself.
Broad shoulders, a chest hard as rock, arms where muscle showed even at rest... every one of them was unfamiliar.
“Let us go to the Imperial Palace. I have prepared a banquet for you.”
Just as Etienne was struggling for what to say, the Emperor wedged himself between them. He took Rishar by the wrist and led him toward the imperial carriage.
Everyone was wrong-footed by the Emperor’s unexpected move. When he tried to seat Rishar in the imperial carriage—reserved for direct royals—the chamberlain couldn’t hide his discomfiture. Even so, he could not step in to stop it.
Leona, too, could not check the Emperor. Normally she would have demanded what he thought he was doing, but there were far too many eyes here. If she confronted him now, there was a high chance of gossip later.
“Your Majesty. It would be better if I rode on horseback.”
Rishar felt the same burden at the Emperor’s behavior. He cautiously declined the favor. But the Emperor was relentless.
“You were on horseback the whole way here, surely. You must be tired—ride in comfort.”
“Your Majesty.”
“Come.”
“...As you command.”
Unable to overcome the Emperor’s insistence, Rishar gave a small sigh. Then Leona, unwilling to ride in the same carriage as Rishar, spoke up.
“If the Grand Duke of Eckhart boards with us, the carriage will be cramped. I will take another carriage.”
“As you wish.”
At Leona’s words, the Emperor waved his hand as if to say do as you like. The attitude—he did not care what she did—made Leona bristle. Just as she was about to snap back, the Emperor turned his gaze to Etienne.
“What about you?”
“Pardon?”
“If it is uncomfortable to ride with the Grand Duke, go with the Empress in another carriage.”
The Emperor’s words did not so much ask Etienne’s wishes as announce them. He already assumed Etienne would ride elsewhere with Leona.
He’d never intended to hear an opinion in the first place.
Etienne moved his lips with a bitter smile. His mouth tasted sour, like bile had risen.
“I will—”
“If it pleases you, shall we ride together?”
Before Etienne could answer that he would, Rishar spoke first.
“Ah?”
Startled by the unexpected offer, Etienne’s eyes went round. Rishar gave him a slight, eye-smiling look.
“If it is uncomfortable for you, there is no helping it.”
“Well...”
Etienne couldn’t answer at once and his eyes rolled. His gaze slid to the Emperor behind Rishar.
Just now, Etienne had seen plainly: at the instant Rishar suggested they share a carriage, the Emperor’s brow had pinched for the briefest moment. It was only a flash, but his true feeling—he did not want Etienne aboard—had surfaced.
“Do so.”
Before Etienne could answer, Leona quickly pushed at his back. She would not, under any circumstance, watch the Emperor and the Grand Duke of Eckhart ride the imperial carriage alone together.
“Oh!”
“Careful.”
Shoved without warning by Leona, Etienne lost his balance for a moment and staggered. Then, with a low voice, a firm hand came around his waist, bracing him.
“Are you all right?”
Rishar, who had caught him from falling, asked in a courteous tone. He then carefully steadied Etienne.
“Th-thank... you...”
“Please be careful.”
Suddenly gathered into Rishar’s arms, Etienne stammered in embarrassment. With an easy face, Rishar flashed a small smile and let go of Etienne’s waist.
Just before their bodies, pressed close, parted, Rishar dipped his head slightly toward Etienne and murmured a brief phrase at his ear.
“...!”
At the words poured in with warm breath, Etienne’s body went rigid. Having said his piece, Rishar stepped back with a look of business concluded.
“If it is decided we ride together, let us go.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
At the Emperor’s urging, Rishar turned with a smile. Etienne, staring blankly at his retreating back toward the carriage, lifted a hand to cup his own ear. The rim burned as if scalded. The whisper he’d left behind went on buzzing around the flushed cartilage.
I’m back, Etienne.
***
“Congratulations on your return!”
“To behold the Empire’s hero! It is an honor to our house!”
The victory banquet, held to celebrate the Empire’s triumph and the Grand Duke of Eckhart’s return, continued late into the night.
The nobles gathered in the hall all vied to praise the Grand Duke of Eckhart. They crowded around him, scrambling to speak first. They meant to stamp their names on the new power rising in the Empire.
“Your Highness, do you remember me? I fought in the Battle of the Uslah Plain...”
“Your Grace. This is my son. He wished to serve you up close and entered the Imperial War College this year.”
“Grant me but a moment, Your Grace. I...”
Seated in a tucked-away spot, Etienne quietly sipped his drink while listening to the voices lauding Rishar. Perhaps because of the incident with the young lord of Marquis Namia, the nobles did not approach him.
Even without last night, they would not have approached Etienne. Regardless of faction, the nobles present had their attention fixed entirely on the Grand Duke of Eckhart.
“Hm.”
Lounging crookedly in his chair, Etienne let a jaded gaze sweep the hall. The Noble Faction and the rest of the blocs—those gathered in the hall fell neatly into two groups.
Centered on the Empress and Duke Herace, the Noble Faction glowered at Rishar as if he were their mortal enemy and muttered among themselves.
The other nobles were desperate to exchange even one word with Rishar. Even as they watched the Empress’s eyes, they kept circling near him.
No one was more delighted than the Emperor. Ostentatiously, he kept the Grand Duke of Eckhart at his side. It was so blatant it felt almost childish.
To someone ignorant of the imperial genealogy, one might think the Grand Duke of Eckhart was the Emperor’s only son.
Etienne let out a thin laugh at the thought—because he truly thought it possible. Not a mere figure of speech: they looked, in fact, like a fond father and son.
“...It will get loud starting tomorrow.”
Weighing what would follow tonight, Etienne let out a small sigh. With a jaded face he looked over the crush filling the great hall.
He had expected many would come, but not like this. It was no exaggeration to say that every noble based in the capital had gathered at tonight’s victory banquet.
There was one reason far more had attended than expected: to see with their own eyes who stood closer to the next imperial power and judge for themselves.
Was my choice right? To whom would it be advantageous to attach myself? Between the prince and the grand duke, who stood nearer the seat of crown prince?
The nobles at the banquet wore smiling masks while they hid their true faces behind fans and busied themselves sounding one another out.
Those who had chosen whom to serve, and those who had not yet chosen—both turned their minds fiercely, each playing a game of wits.
And the Emperor used it shrewdly. All night he kept the Grand Duke of Eckhart tucked beneath his arm. When people came to greet him, he introduced the grand duke. He showed it in action rather than words.
By morning, word that the Emperor’s heart was set on the Grand Duke of Eckhart would surely spread beyond the imperial capital to the provinces.
“...I can’t watch this.”
Gazing at Rishar surrounded by dozens of nobles, Etienne rose slowly. Perhaps the drink was taking hold; his insides had churned for some time as if his guts were twisting.
“Your Highness? Where are you going?”
“I’ll get a bit of air.”
Answering Ben carelessly, Etienne undid a collar button choking his throat. At the precarious look of him, Ben stuck close behind.
“To the garden, Your Highness? Allow me.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m going to the balcony.”
“The balcony?”
“Yes, so don’t follow. That’s an order.”
Etienne lifted a hand to hold Ben back and headed alone for the balcony. At another time he would have returned to the Prince’s Palace around now, but tonight he could not.
The Empress had ordered him to keep his seat until the banquet was over. She insisted that, especially at a time like this, they had to show the nobles a solid front.
He didn’t know how much effect there was in him simply sitting there, but Etienne meekly obeyed Leona. There was nothing to gain by earning her dislike when she was already in a foul mood. Still, doing nothing and sitting still was far harder than expected.
And it wasn’t just that. Everything he saw and everything he heard scraped his nerves.
So Etienne decided to step away for a moment. Everyone else did as much; he thought this would be fine.
There is such a thing as a tactical withdrawal, after all.
If he was to endure until the banquet ended, he needed to stand in the night air and settle his roiling stomach.
***
“Hoo.”
Stepping onto the balcony, a cool air rushed up to him. Etienne reflexively hunched his shoulders and walked toward the balustrade.
Apart from the body that felt the cold, Etienne felt a clarity, as if something inside had opened wide.
With a nameless sense of release, he perched on the rail. The breeze blowing from the rear gardens scattered the pheromones that had clung to his body like paste.
“Mm.”
Shivering at the cold air slipping in through his slightly open shirt, Etienne undid another button. Only then could he truly breathe.
“Your Highness.”
Just as Etienne drew a deep breath and closed his eyes, a voice intruded on his rest.
“...Theodore of House Miles?”
Turning his head to confirm the intruder, Etienne’s eyes pinched. The one who had disturbed his respite was Theodore.
“What is it?”
Etienne asked Theodore offhandedly. Even faced with Etienne’s coldness, Theodore acted warm.
“Did you get home safely last night? I must apologize for last night in many respects.”
“For what?”
At the unexpected words, Etienne tilted his head. Following the motion, platinum hair, moonlit, slid down. Momentarily transfixed, Theodore caught himself and answered.
“The matter with the young lord of Marquis Namia. It happened while I was away from your side...”
“Ah.”
At Theodore’s words, Etienne gave a light nod. Then, as if puzzled, he asked:
“Why are you apologizing for that? The one who wronged me was the young lord of Marquis Namia, not you.”
“I failed to attend you properly. I should have taken better care...”
“That, too, is a bit strange.”
Etienne cut him off. With a look of incomprehension, he fixed on Theodore.
“I’ve thought this for some time—you seem to hold a strange sense of duty toward me.”
“Pardon?”
“Theodore of House Miles. When did I ever ask you to attend me? Are you my guard knight or my aide?”
“That I am not, but...”
“Ah—did my mother perhaps order you to look after me?”
“No!”
Flustered by Etienne’s sarcasm, Theodore raised his voice with a dismayed face. He went on, looking aggrieved.
“I serve Your Highness out of my own will.”
“Loyalty?”
Etienne gave a short, unbelieving laugh. With genuine curiosity, he opened his mouth.
“Why?”
“Pardon?”
“On what do you base that loyalty to me?”
“What do you...”
“No, I only find it a little curious. Isn’t it a bit laughable that the heir of House Miles, one of the Ten Great Houses, declares voluntary loyalty to a Beta prince who has no virtue beyond legitimacy?”
Etienne smiled wryly, self-mocking. He spoke truth. In reality, among nobles who supported Etienne, there were almost none loyal to him. They were all dogs of the Empress or Duke Herace.
If he were not the Empress’s child—if his mother’s kin were not House Herace—what then?
The nobles would have turned their backs long ago. Etienne was sure he was right.
In an imperial society that prized Alphas and Omegas, among nobles stamped to the marrow with Alpha–Omega supremacism, a Beta stood far below.
If it were revealed he was an Omega who could not ascend the throne, the uproar would be worse. Etienne’s mouth twisted in a bitter smile.
In a society that revered Omegas, there was one kind of Omega whose birth was not blessed.
That was a royal born an Omega. A being condemned to live a life of disdain or check.
That’s how old customs are. However plainly they are vile, people cannot help but follow them—because they are rooted deep in individual minds. All the more when they are enshrined in the august law of the realm.
In the end, unless he was an Alpha, Etienne could not be recognized by the nobles. Not only the nobles: even the palace staff serving in the Prince’s Palace were not loyal to Etienne. The only one true to him was Ben.
He need not even look to others. If another option appeared, the Empress—his own mother—would surely cast him off first. Such was power.
Knowing that better than anyone, Etienne found Theodore’s favor toward him curious—and at the same time, he could not help but feel wary.
Above all, what Theodore showed him was by no means pure loyalty. It was closer to a dank desire.
“Why would you say such a thing?”
“What did I?”
“Do not belittle yourself, Your Highness.”
Theodore looked at Etienne with a pained expression. In a voice full of hurt, he went on:
“Please do not doubt my devotion. I truly wish to serve you as my liege.”
Theodore spoke each word with force. He looked ready to drop to his knees before Etienne that instant. In his eyes as he gazed at Etienne, a strange heat smoldered.
“Your Highness is more than—”
“Enough.”
Etienne cut him off again. He could not hide his discomfort.
What to do?
Watching the longing in Theodore’s eyes, Etienne chose his words inwardly. Having lived a lifetime reading the room, having become a liar to survive, he read others’ expressions and feelings well.
Thanks to that, he grasped at once what Theodore’s gaze contained. Those were not the eyes for a lord to serve, but the eyes of a hunter staring at prey he wanted to devour.
What a waste.
Looking at Theodore waiting for his answer, Etienne clicked his tongue inwardly. If not for the desire in those eyes, he might have accepted the young man’s favor long ago.
Even now, he could use him if he chose. Etienne needed hands and feet that would move faithfully. But a man with eyes like that was dangerous.
Etienne, said to resemble the Empress—the Empire’s greatest beauty—bore a beautiful face and a curious air.
Drawn by that, people often hovered near him or tried to approach. But Etienne let no one close.
He had no choice. Growing close to someone only raised the odds his secret would be exposed.
All the more reason Theodore’s feeling toward him repelled him. In those eyes was not simple liking, but carnal want.
Yes. Theodore lusted after Etienne.
The feeling when he realized that someone already uncomfortable to him harbored desire for him—Etienne arranged his thoughts with a bitter smile.
Given that Theodore was one of the few dominant Alphas in the Empire, his pull toward Etienne was likely an Alpha’s instinct.