* * *
The banquet hall was filled with laughter and conversations from many people.
Yet the two sitting at the highest seats in the room weren’t laughing along with them.
Hesia only relaxed his expression after the attendant he had sent to Vivisian returned and assured him the man was safe and well.
Only then did the prince also soften his expression in turn.
Hesia looked up at the ornate clock hanging on the wall of the banquet hall, thinking that if it hadn’t been the prince’s birthday celebration, he would have quietly slipped out by now.
The sky outside the window was slowly turning red.
Sunset was approaching.
“I just hope nothing’s gone wrong…”
Hesia took a deep breath, repeatedly clenching and relaxing his hands.
✽ ✽ ✽
Viscount Zetos, his face flushed from too much wine, wandered through the hallway.
He exhaled alcohol-laced breath as he aimlessly walked until he finally came to his senses—only to realize he was somewhere unfamiliar.
“Where the hell am I now? This is why people say you need to keep your wits about you.”
He grumbled irritably, his tongue slightly loosened, as he looked around.
His mouth fell open at the sight right next to him—a sprawling, dazzling garden filled entirely with vivid blue hydrangeas.
“Just how much money do you have to be rotting in to plant this many hydrangeas here…?”
Merien Principality was not a place where flowers bloomed easily, due to the nature of its land.
Even without knowing that, it was impossible not to think of money when looking at a hydrangea garden in full bloom like this.
Clicking his tongue, Zetos craned his neck to take in the garden blanketed in flowers.
He didn’t recall seeing a garden like this anywhere near the main estate where the banquet was held.
Where was he, exactly?
Scratching the back of his neck, he muttered to himself.
“Should’ve just listened when the attendant offered to guide me.”
He had meant to look around the palace, but getting lost wasn’t part of the plan.
Smacking his lips and glancing around, he happened to spot someone standing quietly in the middle of the garden.
The flowers partially obscured the figure, but in the end, it was still just soil beneath their feet.
And to stand in such a place dressed in pristine white… it was likely someone of noble birth.
The silver embroidery on the white fabric shimmered in the reddish light of the setting sun.
Zetos let out a hot breath and began to approach, intending to ask for directions.
As he drew nearer, he suddenly felt a familiar “pulse” brush against his skin—something he had felt once before.
He stopped in his tracks, tilting his head in confusion, when suddenly, three people appeared out of nowhere and blocked his view of the figure in white.
“Who are you?”
One of the three asked in a chillingly low voice.
Startled by the sudden appearance of strangers as if they had dropped from the sky, Zetos blinked and replied dumbly.
“Uh, I’m a guest… I was invited to the prince’s birthday banquet…”
“Are you lost? If so, we can escort you back to the banquet hall. This way, please.”
The message was clear—they weren’t going to let him get any closer to the person in the garden.
“Oh, I’d appreciate that. But could you tell me where this is?”
At his casual question, one of the three stepped out of the garden to lead him.
As they walked, the guide responded curtly:
“This is the prince’s palace.”
“The prince’s… Ah, I guess it was open for the birthday celebration. Quite the rare sight.”
Zetos chuckled and scratched his chin, sneaking a glance back over his shoulder.
The person in white was still standing there, unmoving.
Someone important enough to be in the prince’s personal palace.
Come to think of it, hadn’t the prince taken on a consort recently?
That person could be him.
The thought felt plausible enough that Zetos nodded to himself.
By the time they arrived back at the main estate, his drunkenness had nearly worn off.
The flush in his face had faded, and he was about to enter the banquet hall under a servant’s guidance when a memory suddenly flashed through his mind.
A boy he had met long ago.
That boy had the exact same “pulse” as the one standing in the hydrangea garden.
And if his suspicion was correct, then that person had no business being here. Zetos swallowed hard, his face going pale.
Because the boy with the long, jet-black hair who had smiled with a maturity beyond his years—whose beautiful face belied the terrible things he had done—had committed far too many crimes to count, and had been sentenced to remain imprisoned until death.
“…Vivisian Teian.”
The disowned son of House Teian.
Staggering out to the terrace of the banquet hall, Zetos downed wine like water as he tried to collect his thoughts.
Vivisian Teian.
No, just Vivisian now, after being stripped of his family name.
His infamy was well known.
The idea that the prince had taken such a man as his favored consort…
If true, it could cause serious problems.
But that didn’t mean Zetos could turn a blind eye.
“If that really is Vivisian… there’s no way a criminal like that should be roaming around freely.”
Zetos muttered, gripping his wine glass tightly.
Ordinarily, he would’ve preferred to stay out of troublesome matters, but one of Vivisian’s crimes had involved his own cousin.
That made it impossible to ignore.
“I need to go to House Teian.”
There was a strange sense of determination in his voice, now free of alcohol.
Meanwhile, Vivisian had stood silently in the flower garden until the sun had fully set.
Many people had passed by, but not one had approached him.
Every time someone came near, someone else would pop out of nowhere to block their path.
He didn’t turn around, but he had no doubt that it was Hesia’s doing.
“If you’re going to worry this much, you might as well have kept me locked up in the palace…”
Vivisian muttered with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, slowly beginning to walk.
The eyes of those who had been guarding him followed his retreating figure.
The man, humming softly to himself as he made his way back to the palace, was nothing like the rumors.
According to gossip, that consort had seduced the prince and was now dripping in gold and jewels.
He was said to be ostentatious, constantly decked out in finery, and indulging in extravagant feasts at every meal.
But the reality was completely different.
His clothes were of fine quality, but that was only to be expected, given his status.
He didn’t travel with attendants, nor did he behave obnoxiously toward the ones who did accompany him.
Today, all he had done was visit the library, nap for an hour in the garden, then wander into this flower field to stand there quietly for a long while.
There was a reason why those who served the prince had nothing bad to say about him.
The royal palace was full of rumors, so no one believed everything they heard.
Still, most royal consorts they had encountered before had indeed lived up to those expectations, so it was easy to assume he would be the same.
Then again, considering who it was that had taken him in, it made sense—someone like that wouldn’t have placed just anyone by his grandson’s side.
And as for the guards who had tailed him all day, Vivisian had no interest in what they thought.
In fact, he didn’t care at all.
Carefree and unbothered, Vivisian strolled leisurely into the palace.
“You’re back, sir. His Grace instructed us to make sure you had a proper dinner. Would you like to eat now?”
“Mm, I wasn’t really planning to eat anything… but I’ll eat now.”
The palace staff, who had looked utterly dejected at the thought of him not eating, now breathed a sigh of relief at his change of mind.
Vivisian chuckled softly at their transparent shift in expression and turned around.
The people standing a little farther off didn’t seem like they were planning to follow him inside the palace.
As a token of gratitude for the day, he gave them a small nod before walking off, following a court attendant.
“Where would you like your dinner, sir? If you plan to eat in your chambers, I’ll have it prepared accordingly.”
“I’ll eat in the room with the garden view today.”
“Yes, I’ll make sure dinner is prepared there. Please wait a moment in the room. Bin, escort him to his room.”
At Hugo’s words, a young attendant quickly stepped forward.
With a youthful face, the palace servant led Vivisian to the room, then quietly closed the door and hurried off.
Left alone in the spacious room, Vivisian, as always, settled into the rocking chair closest to the window.
As he rocked back and forth, staring outside, a servant entered not long after.
He placed food on the table, pricked each dish with a silver needle, then left the room.
Though quite some time had passed since lunch, Vivisian still didn’t feel very hungry.
He kept his gaze fixed out the window, completely ignoring the food beside him.
It wasn’t until the dishes had cooled that he finally picked up a fork, his face showing no trace of appetite.
“If I don’t eat, he’s just going to make a fuss again.”
Recalling the prince who was far too interested in other people’s meals, Vivisian forced himself to eat, bite by reluctant bite.
Around the time he’d nearly finished eating, he heard familiar footsteps from beyond the hallway.
Expecting the door to open soon, Vivisian turned his head.
As expected, it wasn’t long before a light knock echoed through the room—and at the same time, the door burst open.
He knocks, only to barge in without waiting for permission anyway.
What’s even the point?
Vivisian chewed slowly, shaking his head inwardly at the senseless routine.
* * *
