* * *
As Eren looked at him with a face full of disbelief, Julius finally stopped laughing and began to walk toward him with long strides.
“If nothing else, I’ve never had much patience, nor have I been good at stifling my curiosity.”
He leaned down, closing the distance until they were eye to eye.
“Was coming to Trovien your decision, Count? Or…”
“……”
“Was it the Duke of Fridit who forced you?”
“……”
There was no obligation to answer that.
Eren simply stepped back, widening the space between them, saying nothing.
“I see. It’s difficult for you to speak on it, then.”
Julius chuckled again.
“That no longer matters. What’s important now is that the Count is safe… and that I am here by your side.”
“…Surely you’re aware of why the Marquis is here, so I’d advise you to be mindful of your behavior while you remain.”
“Oh dear, it seems I’ve offended the Count. If so, I apologize. I was simply glad to see you again after so long.”
At Julius’s apology, Eren gave a slight nod as if it were only right.
At that moment, footsteps sounded from behind them.
“What are you two doing over there?”
The voice he’d been waiting to hear called out then.
Upon seeing Ashard, Eren couldn’t bring himself to greet him too cheerfully in front of Julius and only gave a small smile.
‘Hm…?’
Why that expression…?
Ashard’s eyebrow had arched upward, as though in irritation.
Following his gaze slowly, Eren realized where it landed: the scarf he hadn’t yet retrieved.
Ashard’s eyes were fixed on it—utterly unmoving.
Ashard was in a foul mood.
It was already bad enough that he had to deal with someone he thoroughly disliked—now that same man had arrived at the empty mansion before him, clearly trying to cause trouble.
‘I rushed from the palace straight here, but I didn’t think I’d run into him this soon.’
His golden eyes turned cold and sharp.
Judging by when they’d both left, Julius couldn’t have arrived much earlier.
But the fact that he was already here meant he had sought out Eren the moment he arrived.
“You’ve come, Your Grace Duke Fridit.”
Julius greeted Ashard with a smooth smile.
But Ashard ignored him coolly and instead pulled Eren’s wrist, drawing him behind his back.
He didn’t like that Eren had been standing closer to Julius than to himself.
Still gripping Eren’s wrist, Ashard slowly lowered his gaze to the scarf in Julius’s hand.
Then, as if demanding its return, he held out his hand.
Ashard was certain Eren, who cared very much about appearances, wouldn’t have handed it over voluntarily—Julius must have taken it without permission.
“While staying in my mansion, I suggest you refrain from laying your hands on what is mine, Marquis Renan.”
At those words, the smile on Julius’s face faded to ice.
Though his lips were still curled upward, it was clear now that the smile was nothing more than a mask.
Eren, watching him, began to tense.
Julius often smiled falsely, but this was the first time his grin had carried such a chilling weight.
A wave of foreboding swept over Eren.
Perhaps sensing Eren’s wary gaze, Julius returned to his usual, casual demeanor.
“You must treasure it quite a bit.”
The feeling of the scarf pressed against his hand.
As Ashard reached to take it, Julius tightened his grip, making it difficult to pull away.
Ashard frowned slightly and asked in a low voice:
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“For a moment, I thought you were referring to Count Nefendis instead.”
Just as Ashard began to respond, Julius continued speaking.
“Even if something is precious to you, Your Grace, if you do not possess it outright, you must realize that others may come to feel the same way about it.”
Eren’s eyes widened in alarm.
He realized instantly: they weren’t talking about the scarf anymore.
They were talking about him.
“It’s unwise to try to monopolize something that everyone desires. Greed, when excessive, tends to bring misfortune.”
What the hell—saying something like that right in front of the person involved, as if they were a shared commodity.
Eren was dumbfounded.
There was no way Julius didn’t know he could hear it; he was obviously saying it on purpose.
“If that’s all the price is, I’ll gladly pay it.”
Ashard smirked, as if challenging him to try, then led Eren away from Julius.
The moment Eren and Ashard disappeared from his sight, Julius’s green eyes flashed with an icy glint.
His fake smile vanished, revealing his true face—cold, bare, unmasked.
“…I should’ve just laid him beneath me that night.”
Julius murmured quietly.
That night, when Eren had been sulky and endearingly pouty… he’d given in.
That had been his mistake.
“And now, a damn nuisance has latched onto him.”
That evening.
Thanks to Ashard’s advance notice, perhaps, Eren managed to get through dinner without running into Julius.
The room assigned to Julius was on the first floor—easy to monitor—while Eren stayed on the third floor, right next to Ashard.
As long as he didn’t go down the stairs, they wouldn’t cross paths.
Still, Eren carefully opened Ashard’s door.
“…May I come in?”
“Why so formal? Just come in.”
Unlike Eren, who was already in his pajamas, Ashard hadn’t even changed clothes and was still in his shirt.
Stacks of documents piled on the desk showed he had been working right up until bedtime.
‘Even when I was in Epentel, I wasn’t this busy…’
If one had to pick the busiest among the nobles of Epentel, Eren would’ve easily taken the title.
Yet even he hadn’t pulled all-nighters this frequently.
But Ashard—despite having Melody assisting him—didn’t seem to be making any headway with his paperwork.
“Would you like me to help?”
“No. I’ll be done soon. Just sit there for a bit.”
Ashard shook his head as if to say he was fine, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses.
It was clear to anyone he was utterly exhausted.
With his regular workload and now the Emperor’s command to watch over Julius, he had a lot on his plate.
Unable to just stand by, Eren stepped closer and picked up a document.
But before he could finish reading even one page, Ashard swiftly snatched it out of his hand.
“Seriously, you never listen the first time.”
“It’ll go faster if I help.”
As Eren tried to take the paper back, Ashard lifted it high out of reach.
When he placed it back down on the desk, Eren gave him a slightly annoyed look.
“If not that, how about helping with something else?”
Eren looked at him quizzically, as if asking ‘What do you mean?’
Ashard merely glanced off to the side. Eren blinked in confusion, not understanding the implication.
‘Don’t tell me… he wants me to help him change clothes?’
Ashard’s gaze had vaguely drifted toward his shirt, and though it seemed absurd, the next thing Ashard said made it all too clear.
“As you can see, I don’t even have the strength to lift a finger.”
“…Still…”
Eren hesitated, clearly flustered, his ears burning red.
“So when you said you’d help, I guess that was just talk?”
At Ashard’s teasing remark, Eren bit his lip.
He had said he’d help… but this wasn’t what he meant.
* * *
