* * *
“Would it be alright if I sent you an invitation to our next gathering?”
Matching the viscount’s drinking pace, Timothy glanced around before lowering his voice to ask.
“What kind of gathering?”
“It’s an exclusive event, but I wanted to invite you specially, Viscount.”
An exclusive event?
The viscount’s curiosity was piqued.
Since rumors had spread that he had gone broke, he had been unable to enter the aristocratic gambling circles that required invitations.
He could still go to public gambling houses, but he had lost too much money to show his face there.
“Haha, what could an old man like me do at a young people’s gathering?”
His wife had warned him that if he got involved with gambling again, she wouldn’t let it slide.
“There will be a diverse group of attendees, so I’m sure you won’t regret it.”
Timothy rubbed his thumb and index finger together—a sign for card games.
The viscount’s eyes wavered.
“I’ll think about it. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I don’t have much money, so attending such gatherings might be difficult.”
He revealed his circumstances without shame.
After all, everyone who approached him wanted something from him.
He lifted his chin proudly.
Whether it was the Duke’s family or those seeking Sylvian, they had to pay a price if they wanted information.
“There’s no need to worry about that. I’ll make sure you have a good time, so please come and enjoy yourself.”
Timothy smiled confidently and promised to send an invitation to the viscount’s residence soon.
“It would be even more enjoyable if your wife accompanied you.”
“She prefers to rest a little longer.”
“Oh dear, should I send a doctor?”
“She’ll be back to her usual self soon, so there’s no need.”
The viscount hesitated at Timothy’s words.
He wanted to curse the duke for meddling in women’s affairs, but he couldn’t openly voice such complaints.
Doing so would mean exposing his wife’s disgrace.
“She just felt empty after our child got married, that’s all. She’s getting better now, so there’s no need to worry.”
“Ah, you mean the Duchess.”
“Yes. I still have another son, but the firstborn is different.”
The viscount casually lied.
There was no way he would introduce Sylvian to this young man.
Viscount Nertian categorized the people who gave him gifts.
Timothy might give, but the viscount had no intention of giving anything back just yet.
“That makes sense. The Duchess is truly stunning.”
“Haha, she takes after her mother, which is why she has such exceptional beauty.”
At the viscount’s proud expression, Timothy recalled the duchess he had seen at the party.
Strangely enough, she both resembled and did not resemble the viscount and his wife—making her even more breathtaking.
She was a beauty perfected by avoiding any flaws.
It was a shame she had been wearing trousers, but that only made her figure stand out more temptingly.
Her wrist, peeking out from her sleeve, was so slender—it looked like it would feel satisfying to grip and restrain.
It would be fun to pin those wrists down, keeping her from moving, and forcefully take her.
His eyes gleamed dangerously.
“I can see why. It makes sense why you delayed her debut.”
“She’s always been frail. You saw it yourself that night—she was exhausted just from being out for a short while.”
The viscount shook his head. Timothy’s agreeable responses pleased him.
“She’s been weak since childhood, which has always worried me. She still struggles to control her pheromones properly.”
“Oh dear, so regulation is difficult for her.”
“That’s right. More than education, getting through each day was the priority.”
Viscount Nertian spoke like a devoted father, sharing his concerns.
He had never been fond of Sylvian, but everything he did was for his son’s sake.
If he hadn’t managed him so strictly, how could that child have become the duchess now?
It was true—Sylvian had been weak and hadn’t received proper education.
“It was nothing short of a miracle that she recovered and met the duke.”
Timothy’s lips curved smoothly.
“A fateful love story—I’m curious how they met.”
“Cough, well… even I don’t really know.”
Everyone he met was curious about how the duke and Sylvian came together, but the viscount had never revealed the truth.
There was no fate or beautiful love story.
The duke had erased all records, so no one would ever know the truth.
The viscount had put Sylvian up for sale at a matchmaking agency, and the duke had simply purchased him at a bargain price.
“One day, Sylvian suddenly cried and begged me to let her marry him.”
As if he were a loving father, the viscount let out a bitter chuckle.
How could a father refuse a crying child’s earnest wish?
If he had known things would turn out like this, he should have set a higher price for Sylvian.
Of course, the duke had paid far more than the asking price as hush money.
It had been months, and no one else had sought Sylvian.
Perhaps, to everyone else, Sylvian had seemed just as useless.
That was why no one remembered that incident.
“So, even you don’t know the full story, Viscount.”
“That’s right. And well, isn’t it a bit shameful for an old man like me to pry too much into young people’s business?”
“Who could blame a father for worrying about his Omega child?”
Timothy idly spun his glass.
The viscount was utterly useless.
Hearing that his family was in trouble, Timothy had thrown him a few valuable jewels, but the viscount had yet to take action.
The duchess belonged to the duke, but Timothy couldn’t let go of his desire.
It was all because of her pheromones.
A scent that whispered, ‘Join me. I’ll give you everything.’
Letting pheromones spill so freely in a room full of Alphas—surely, everyone there had wanted to take a bite.
The duke couldn’t keep an eye on her every second.
If Timothy could just win over the duchess’s heart, he could enjoy a secret affair.
He didn’t even bother hiding his amusement from the viscount.
“Ahem, I appreciate your kindness, young man. There aren’t many thoughtful people like you these days. I have no idea how such ridiculous rumors started.”
“Well, everyone has circumstances beyond their control.”
Not all were mere rumors, but Timothy simply smiled and rose from his seat.
“I have an appointment to attend, so I’ll be taking my leave now.”
“Oh my, leaving already?”
“Yes, my apologies. I’ll make sure to send you an invitation.”
There was no point in staying longer with the viscount—he knew nothing about his son, nor about the duke.
Rather than wasting time, it would be far better to cool down the heat rising within him with the company of slaves.
“I can’t keep a young man here for too long. Safe travels.”
“Thank you. I’ll cover the expenses for tonight.”
The cost of all the drinks they had consumed must have been considerable.
The viscount tried to refuse, rising from his seat, but Timothy stopped him, insisting that this was the least he could do.
“Ha, so this is why people can’t help but boast about their children.”
Left alone, the viscount chuckled to himself.
After downing the rest of the drinks Timothy had paid for, he staggered to his feet.
The duke had told him to sever ties, but how could blood be so easily cut away?
Proof of that lay in the letters sent from the viscount’s household to the duke’s estate every single day.
Grinning to himself, the viscount flicked a gold coin to the coachman who had been waiting for him.
* * *
