* * *
Eren instinctively clenched his lips in surprise, but Ashard gently tapped at them.
The tension in Eren’s body eased just slightly.
Unlike earlier when he had seemed full of anticipation, his body now froze up.
Ashard’s warm breath brushed over Eren’s face as he slowly stroked his stiff form.
His wide-open eyes slowly drifted shut, overwhelmed and unsure what to do.
When he just sat there, still and awkward, Ashard gently lifted the back of his neck and chuckled softly.
“Relax.”
Why did those two words sound so sweet?
That deep, low voice only made him tenser, not more relaxed.
Unlike their past rushed kisses, Ashard now approached with a gentle, almost reverent care.
It felt like cotton candy melting on his lips—his entire body felt like it was dissolving.
In the silent room, only the soft sounds of lips parting and meeting lingered.
It was a familiar place, yet all the usual comfort was replaced by a strange, fluttering tension.
The thudding of a heart—whose, he didn’t know—grew louder, adding to the nervous atmosphere.
As Ashard softly devoured Eren’s lips, his gaze never wavered.
The way Eren had closed his eyes earlier, only to tremble now, drove him crazy—it was unbearably adorable.
“Gods, how could I have only just realized this…?”
He had chalked it all up to curiosity.
The unexpected things Eren said from their very first meeting, how he got flustered whenever Ashard leaned in…
Even boldly speaking his mind in front of the Emperor, and the sheer desire Ashard felt just from seeing his face.
Looking back, it was all pointing to one truth. He had been a fool not to see it sooner.
Ashard cursed himself silently for being so blind to his own feelings.
If he’d only realized a little earlier, he would’ve marked Eren as his before those three pests from Epentel arrived.
“Well… it’s not too late.”
No matter how high they fly, there’s always someone higher.
The Trovien social circle was in the palm of his hand.
With that thought, a sly smile crept onto Ashard’s face.
Meanwhile, Eren, completely led by Ashard’s pace, could hardly breathe.
Ashard didn’t hold back as he devoured his lips.
It was a thick, honeyed kiss, and a faint moan escaped Eren’s lips as he ran out of air.
“Hnngh… A-Ashard…”
Barely managing to keep his composure, Eren called his name.
Ashard’s pace slowed slightly—but only slightly.
Their lips remained locked for a long time, the slick sound echoing through the room.
Eren’s reasoning started to melt from the intoxicating kiss.
If it went any further, Ashard feared the man in his arms might collapse.
He pulled away slightly, only for Eren to urgently wrap his arms around his neck and pull him back in.
“Just… a little more…”
That whispering plea sent tremors through Ashard’s eyes.
Just as he found himself giving in, a sharp scent of wine hit his nose—something he hadn’t noticed until now, too focused on Eren.
“Did you… drink?”
“…Mmh. Nooo, I didn’t~…”
Yeah, right.
The alcohol had clearly kicked in.
His unusually flushed face made sense now—he had been drinking, and didn’t even realize it.
Eren blinked sleepily, looking like he might pass out.
His legs wobbled, and Ashard quickly caught him, supporting his waist.
“Hah… this isn’t funny, you know.”
Carefully, he lifted Eren and laid him on the bed.
He was sure this had happened once before.
At this point, maybe Eren was just pretending.
Ashard wanted to shake him awake and ask, but seeing his peaceful face, he couldn’t bring himself to.
“This is punishment.”
Falling asleep right in front of him—clearly, this was self-defense.
Whispering that, Ashard gently undid the button at the top of Eren’s shirt.
His slender neck came into view, pale and delicate.
Ashard stared for a moment, then placed a light kiss on his nape.
Over time, red marks bloomed along his neck like petals.
Ashard stroked Eren’s hair and looked at the evidence of his claim with satisfaction.
The warmth beside Eren never cooled all night.
And just like that, the story twisted again from the original.
So-called “Gathering of Noble House Servants.”
Ever since the merger with the Epentel Empire had been announced, the biggest topic of gossip revolved around Epentel’s nobles.
Only three retained their titles, and one more had been newly granted one.
The Emperor had granted each of them a mansion in the capital.
That meant new job openings—and it was no surprise the servants were abuzz.
Some noble houses, excluding ones like the Fridit family, were known for stingy wages, so for servants seeking better pay, this was a windfall.
The Firentium Duke’s household and the Lennan Marquis’ household.
Both were high-ranking noble families, expected to offer high pay.
Plus, there were rumors the heads of both houses were incredibly attractive, which only sweetened the deal for those hoping for good employee perks.
“So? Where do you want to work?”
“Of course the Firentium Duke’s estate! When else am I going to have the chance to work for a duke?”
“True. But I’m still considering it. They say the Lennan Marquis is super kind…”
“Pfft, like you’ve got a shot at becoming the marquis’s wife or something?”
Servants’ preferences split evenly between Firentium and Lennan.
One maid, quietly listening, finally spoke up…
“But if that general from Epentel gets a title, wouldn’t that place be a good choice too?”
“You haven’t heard? He’s completely out of the running—apparently, the princess has it out for him.”
“I heard that too. But he’s going to be the commander of the Black Knights, right? And his territory is near the Latilan Kingdom. I heard if you go there on vacation, you can even use one of the family’s villas.”
One of the perks of working for a noble house: if you take a vacation to their estate, you can stay in one of the family-owned villas located there.
Since the Latilan Kingdom, originally under the Empire of Epentel, had been annexed by the Trovien Empire, joining the Yulta Viscount House was essentially a free ticket to a vacation in Latilan.
The unexpected benefit lit up the eyes of the servants.
Of course, to get into any of those three houses, you needed both experience and skill, but anyone could apply, right?
The tempting option made them hesitate in their decision.
The maids of the Fridit household, unable to hold back from the juicy gossip, quietly approached.
Should we tell them… or not?
“Hey… I think our Lord might have a lover.”
The moment she dropped the hint, all eyes turned to her.
Picking a family to work for was something you could think about on your own—but juicy rumors about the Duke of Fridit’s love life?
You only got those in the moment.
The servants looked on eagerly, waiting for her to continue.
“We have a guest staying at the mansion right now. It’s Count Eren Nefendis.”
“Wait, the famous Count Nefendis?”
“Exactly! And guess what I saw today?”
She paused just enough to make everyone groan with frustration.
“I saw the Count coming out of His Grace’s bedroom.”
“And! His clothes were a mess, and there were red marks on his neck.”
Another maid chimed in supportively.
They spent the night together—and left marks.
The meaning was obvious. The eyes of the gathered servants widened in realization.
“And that’s not all. Count Nefendis is keeping his title, and the land he’s been granted is up north. A place called Severin.”
Severin—a land of mild seasons, famous for its breathtaking snowy landscapes in winter, a top-tier vacation spot far more appealing than Latilan.
The servants began to murmur.
“And he’s been appointed as the princess’s private tutor. Word is, the reason General Yulta got on her bad side was because he insulted the Count. Disrespecting her teacher, basically. With backing like that from the princess herself…”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he and His Grace get married soon.”
That sealed it.
With the maids’ skilled baiting, everyone there had just one thought in mind:
‘I need to apply to House Nefendis!’
* * *
