* * *
“Haa… As you know, sir, I’ve just finished training, and all I want is to rest.”
Realizing his firm refusals weren’t working, Martius tried to appeal to the fatigue from his grueling training.
Since returning home, he’d barely slept a few hours between dinner and dawn.
He’d planned to rest until the evening.
Over dinner, he was supposed to convince his parents to move into a smaller estate.
“Haha, I know you’re tired from training, but once we get there, all that fatigue will melt away.”
Timothy was familiar with guys like this.
Too young to know real pleasure, walking the straight and narrow.
All training, all duty, living a life defined by what’s expected.
It was his mission to show them that there was far more fun to be had in this world.
Once they got a taste of it, they’d never escape the pleasure.
“…Fine.”
Martius shut his mouth tightly, realizing any further argument was pointless.
Now that they were face to face, he could understand why the rumors about Timothy were so negative.
Even knowing Martius was an Alpha, the man was blatantly releasing pheromones.
Martius cloaked himself in aura, deciding this guy wasn’t even worth dealing with—but Timothy just grinned that irritating grin and didn’t pull his pheromones back.
The way his eyes swept over Martius’s face was revolting too.
What was he staring at, with that ugly mug?
Still, it might be a good opportunity to figure out what his father was scheming.
“You resemble the duchess quite a bit.”
“…Not at all.”
How could he possibly resemble his beautiful older brother?
“It’s not just the hair and eye color.”
There was even a flicker of rapture in Timothy’s voice.
Martius’s lips gradually tightened.
‘You bastard.’
Heat boiled in his gut.
So that’s what this was.
He was after his brother.
Back in training, Martius had been pestered often—senpai and peers alike couldn’t seem to resist him, just because he was a “pretty Alpha.”
He’d made sure to stomp them all down before they could get funny ideas.
This guy clearly needed some correction too.
“Is that so?”
Seeing Martius’s lips curl into a cold smile, Timothy flinched and edged back.
Unlike the duchess, who always smiled gently, Martius only raised one corner of his mouth—and that smile looked dangerous.
“No one’s ever said I looked like my brother before.”
“People must be blind then. You look so much alike.”
He clearly had no clue how insulting it was to tell an Alpha they looked like an Omega.
“So what? Looking at me made you want to fuck me?”
“…What?”
“I said, you bastard, are you trying to screw me?!”
Thud!
“G-Good heavens! Sir, what are you doing?!”
“You’re the one who started it!”
Crack!
The carriage had stopped in front of a high-end brothel—one Martius’s seniors had warned him to avoid.
According to whispers, it was the kind of place where they used aphrodisiacs so Alphas and Omegas alike would end up tangled and ruined.
“I’ll make sure you never pull this kind of crap again!”
“Aaaargh!”
The sound of Martius’s perfectly aimed kick landing on Timothy’s precious spot was sickening.
Growl…
Spectators started to gather at the strange noise from inside the carriage, but when Martius stepped out with a terrifying expression, they scattered.
“You! Take me to the Imperial Knights HQ. Now!”
“Wh-What? Sir Knight, what are you talking about?”
The coachman had been trembling ever since the shouting started, and now, seeing Martius’s disheveled state, his jaw dropped.
His hair was a mess, his collar torn, muscular chest clearly exposed.
‘Gulp.’
‘Our troublemaker young master’s done it again.’
The coachman remembered the earl’s warning—one more incident, and he’d be fired.
Bowing low, he began to beg for his life.
“Take me to the Imperial Knights administration. And report that a noble tried to rape a junior knight.”
“Wha—?”
“Do I not look like a victim right now? He said he wanted to ‘show me a good time’ and then tried to—ugh.”
Martius’s face twisted in shame, his voice rising.
The coachman bowed again, trembling.
“S-Sorry! I’m so sorry. Just this once, please let it go…”
“Then you’ll go to prison in his place?”
That chilling question made the coachman hiccup.
“Right away! I’ll go right now! Don’t worry, sir!”
Martius pulled a pen and notebook from inside his jacket and scribbled a brief but detailed account of the events, including his personal statement of injustice.
He handed it to the coachman.
Without looking back, the coachman whipped the horses into motion and bolted toward the capital.
“Fucking lunatic.”
Should’ve just killed him.
Martius didn’t worry about what came next.
He was confident Duke Graham would back him up.
For three days, the Duke had been pushing Martius to his limits while quietly observing him.
When his brother wasn’t around, he’d asked Martius to help deal with the garbage.
[You understand how precious Sylvian is now, don’t you?]
[…]
[Even as the Duchess, there are plenty of bastards who still try to chase after him.]
[That can’t be true.]
[You just haven’t seen it. If you saw the filthy looks they give him, you wouldn’t be able to stand it.]
Martius had come to believe every word the Duke said.
There really were scumbags going after his brother.
Yuri Holt was one of them.
Even if Countess Holt had a reputation for appreciating beauty, she shouldn’t have looked at his brother that way.
Imagining Sylvian in his place—experiencing what he’d just been through—made Martius furious.
[Your father believes I’ll throw Sylvian away. He’s even arranging meetings with other Alphas.]
At the Duke’s bitter smile, Martius made up his mind to protect his brother’s love.
A Duke who loved his brother this much—this was the happiness his brother had always wished for.
Clutching his torn coat around his body, Martius stormed off to hail another carriage—headed straight for the Duke’s estate.
“W-what did you say?”
“Martius Nertian has filed charges against Timothy Cavern.”
Marquis Karl was speechless at his subordinate’s report.
How much information had he stuffed into that idiot’s head—and now he’s being accused? Of what?
“What’s the charge?”
“…Assault, apparently.”
“Speak properly.”
“Sexual assault. He supposedly went into heat after seeing fellow Alpha Martius and tried to force himself on him in the carriage.”
That lunatic.
Karl immediately scrapped his plan to use Timothy and his crew to lure Sylvian in.
“What’s the Cavern side saying?”
“They’re denying everything, of course. Claiming Martius attacked first and trying to spin it as insubordination.”
Couldn’t get to the Duchess, so he went for the younger brother first?
Karl recalled Martius’s face.
Good-looking, even for an Alpha.
And Timothy was scum who didn’t care about anyone’s traits.
“Let me out! I’m innocent!”
Locked up in a prison cell, Timothy shouted and ground his teeth.
If he’d actually done something, he wouldn’t feel this wronged.
To make it worse, rumors were spreading that he’d been beaten by someone much younger.
It was humiliating.
Whatever had been done to him, nothing down below was responding, no matter how hard he tried.
He couldn’t even remember the scent of the Duchess’s sweet pheromones.
‘Clench.’
He yelled through the bars, but the guard watching the cell simply asked him to quiet down with a cold gaze.
‘Damn it! Damn it! I haven’t even had a taste of the Duchess yet!’
His plan had been to drug Martius and make him dependent on his supply—unable to think straight without it.
Not sure when that bastard started getting suspicious, but Timothy should’ve backed off the moment Martius kicked him.
That brat had become a knight young, and his strength wasn’t a joke.
“Hahhh…”
Just remembering how he was beaten sent chills through his body.
‘Shit. Shit.’
‘I’ll kill him.’
You think you can lay hands on the second son of House Cavern and get away with it?
Timothy sat down, his body prickling with fear like fine hairs standing on end.
It was strange—he should’ve heard from his family by now, but no one had come.
* * *
