* * *
“Yuri!”
“You’re radiant as always! Your beauty blinds me, Lord Sylvian!”
Dragging along a clearly displeased Martius, Yuri burst into loud laughter.
He offered a respectful bow to the Duke, then circled Sylvian excitedly without pause.
“Lord Holt looks dashing too. E-enough already.”
With that booming voice, he began describing how exquisite the embroidery on Sylvian’s sleeves was, and which artisan made his delicate earrings—even though Sylvian had never told him any of that.
Thanks to him, nearby nobles began estimating the price and widened their eyes in surprise.
“I haven’t even gotten through half of your beauty yet!”
“N-no, that’s enough. You look amazing too, Yuri. Absolutely top-notch.”
“Hahaha. Am I passable, then?”
“Tolerable to look at?”
Even if he’d turned into a muscleman, the original Su’s beauty had never faded.
The appearance that had remained untouched by the bulk of his muscles was still dazzlingly radiant.
Dressed in a crisp green suit without a single accessory, he stood out on looks alone.
His limbs stretched out straight, his round, perky butt sat high, his shoulders were broad, his chest thick.
And that bright, cheerful smile—wherever Yuri stood, it felt like the area lit up like glass catching sunlight.
“Please lower your voice, Young Master.”
The one who finally reined in Yuri, who was wagging his tail and buzzing around Sylvian’s side, was Martius.
Martius made sure to stand apart from Yuri.
He had no idea why he’d been dragged here by Yuri Holt, but once the party started and Yuri found him standing alone, he hadn’t left his side.
Yuri had claimed it was his first time in high society, but somehow, he quickly got friendly with everyone—academy students, knights from the Second Order, and families with ties to the Holt Countdom.
And through all that, Yuri dragged Martius around and introduced him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Which meant Martius had been irritated the entire time.
People were already whispering that his family only survived thanks to his elder brother, and now, being seen around the young master of the County of Holt didn’t help.
The stares felt even more pointed.
“My voice isn’t that loud. Right?”
“Hmm… I just wonder if it might disturb the others.”
When Sylvian cautiously added in, Yuri wilted.
His shoulders slumped, and Sylvian, flustered, scrambled to comfort him.
“Young Master, this isn’t the Academy.”
“…I’m sorry.”
Even Zeroth eventually stepped in.
Honestly, what were the Holts even doing…
They’re just overjoyed, that’s what.
The Countess of Holt looked on with misty eyes, taking in the group—Sylvian, himself, Yuri, Martius.
Half his face was hidden behind a fan, but his eyes sparkled with almost frightening intensity.
‘And yet you let Yuri Holt’s body end up like that?’
Zeroth clicked his tongue.
Then he scanned the room.
Now that Martius had arrived, it was the perfect time for the Viscount couple to make their entrance.
He’d noticed them eyeing Sylvian and himself since the moment they walked in, clearly biding their time for a conversation.
“Good evening, Duke Graham.”
“Viscount Nertian. It’s been a while.”
The Viscount offered an almost excessive bow, and some nearby frowned at the display—especially how he grovelled before his own son-in-law.
As the Viscount and his wife approached, the Countess of Holt glanced nervously at the Duke, then subtly tugged her son away.
“Mother, why are we—” Yuri started to protest, but got a swift smack on the back.
“It’s been some time. I hope you’ve been well?”
The Viscountess, who’d hung back a little, stepped forward once her husband’s greeting was received.
Even as she greeted the Duke, her gaze was fixed on Sylvian.
“The Duchess appears well, which is such a relief.”
The Viscountess lifted the corners of her mouth in a graceful smile.
Seeing her son, who had once cried out so desperately for her, looking well put her in a fine mood.
Even though she’d been punished because of Sylvian, the resulting attention from the nobility had filled their coffers.
It had all been a misunderstanding.
Everything could be resolved through conversation with her son.
Even holed up, she’d heard every rumor about the Duke and Duchess.
“Rather than selling him off elsewhere, wouldn’t it be better to teach him bedroom skills so the Duke won’t abandon him?”
If the Duke had no intention of casting her son aside, then the Nertian family stood to gain.
Back then, she’d truly believed Sylvian would soon be discarded.
But if the Duke’s heart had changed, there was no need to look for other sources of money.
The Graham Dukedom was the richest in the empire, after all.
“Mother, you seem to have lost weight.”
“Do I? I suppose it feels empty at home without the Duchess around.”
Her face glowed far too much for that to be believable, but Sylvian gently grasped her hand.
“I heard you moved in with Martius.”
“There were some issues, but we managed to move somewhere better than before.”
The Viscountess hoped Sylvian would ask what kind of “issues.”
For now, they were managing with the money they had.
But the merchant Timothy had introduced had been the problem.
After his disgrace and subsequent death, the man had turned on them, claiming the Viscount family was untrustworthy and demanding they vacate.
He threatened to file a lawsuit if they didn’t leave within a month.
“I’m glad you found a good house.”
…Why isn’t he asking what the problem was? The Viscountess lowered her eyes more sorrowfully.
“I’m not sure if one could call it good.”
“I heard it’s a grand, four-story house. That’s wonderful. I’m so happy Martius has a nice place to live now.”
If they got kicked out of that house, that’d be perfect.
Sylvian smiled brightly, feigning ignorance of what Martius had told him.
His face showed genuine joy, like he was thrilled his parents had found such a home.
The Viscountess wanted to squeeze his hand in response, but under the Duke’s watchful eyes, she quietly let go.
“Oh! Would you like to come visit sometime? I’d love to show you Martius’s room and the new house.”
If the Duchess visited, that nasty merchant would probably behave.
That lowborn wretch, daring to wave a contract in their faces and scream at them to get out, would surely shut up once he saw the Duchess.
The contract they’d signed in a rush even stated that if Timothy couldn’t guarantee their status, the deal could be voided.
“Would that be alright?”
“As long as Martius is with you, I don’t mind,” said Zeroth, glancing at Martius.
At his reply, the Viscountess’s face lit up instantly.
Sylvian, too, blinked in surprise.
‘What’s going on?’
Why had Zeroth suddenly agreed to a visit to the Viscount estate?
“I’ll pick a good day and let you know.”
“You’d be welcome anytime the Duchess chooses. Please do come, anytime at all.”
Having secured her goal, the Viscountess had nothing more to say to Sylvian.
“We’re so grateful for your continued kindness toward our family.”
“I don’t recall being particularly kind.”
“But still…”
The moment the Viscountess fell silent, the Viscount jumped in to offer his thanks.
Wasn’t the Duke fulfilling all of Sylvian’s requests?
He’d been pretending not to listen, and now claimed to have no interest?
“Haha. We’re just thankful to you, Your Grace.”
They couldn’t risk saying aloud that the Duke only invested based on the Duchess’s whims—the Empire’s sole superior Alpha following the words of his Omega?
Out of the question.
* * *
