* * *

After a while, Hernan let out a sigh and slumped over his desk, resting his forehead against it, after sending Jurgen away following his report. Though Hernan was alone in the study, a light, singing voice echoed in his mind.

[Pathetic.]

Hernan barely managed to lift his head, clutching his forehead as he replied.

“Stop talking to me. It’s unsettling knowing you’re watching.”

[If you don’t like it, you can leave. This is my land.]

An inhuman being with no claim to the land had no right to nag so much. And it wasn’t like blocking his ears would make the voice go away. The interference from this divine being made his head throb even more.

[You knew you’d be hated. It was your own choice.]

True as that may be, it didn’t make him feel any better. Hernan tightly shut his eyes as he looked down at the squirrel scurrying onto his lap, begging for a walnut.

As Berta had warned, Jurgen was no ordinary person.

Since returning from the shrine with Jurgen, the man had contacted countless people that very night through the communication network.

Hernan had to spend much of the night glued to the communicator, frantically trying to block every connection to prevent Jurgen from securing any funds.

Once the midnight chaos had subsided, Jurgen went so far as to personally inquire among the noble families to find a young lady of marquis or higher rank who was willing to marry Hernan Velon Yudenet, returning with a list more extensive than that of a professional matchmaker.

‘All of them have expressed a willingness to meet with Your Grace. If none of these ladies suit your taste, I could also look among male omegas.’

Another round of chaos ensued as the Yudenet family’s servants scrambled to deliver apologies and gifts to end the matter.

In the end, it wasn’t until Hernan bluntly stated that he wasn’t interested in someone who could bear him children, but rather in Jurgen himself, that the man finally ceased his futile efforts.

By now, Jurgen should have understood that this was not about family interests, but rather about Hernan’s personal interest in him.

However, Jurgen Nil Everdeen had lived a life completely disconnected from romantic pursuits.

After all, someone capable of showing kindness to everyone equally was someone who, in truth, harbored no special affection for anyone.

Dating?

With all the work piling up, who had time for leisurely outings without even a day off?

Jurgen fundamentally couldn’t comprehend the idea that simply spending time with someone could bring happiness.

His death from overwork in a previous life was, in hindsight, an inevitable outcome.

So, trying to win his heart through conventional methods was like trying to crack a boulder with an egg.

All or nothing. If doing nothing would mean he couldn’t be with Jurgen anyway, Hernan decided that he would rather be hated than let Jurgen become someone else’s man.

Using all the power and connections at his disposal as a duke, Hernan succeeded in keeping Jurgen close.

But there was one thing he hadn’t considered.

When he first devised the plan to capture Jurgen Nil Everdeen, Hernan’s only goal was to keep Jurgen by his side.

He didn’t care if Jurgen didn’t love him.

He didn’t mind being blamed or resented. He thought he could endure being hated.

‘Don’t push me away.’

‘Wait, Your Grace…!’

An unexpected turn of events occurred. He only intended to kiss Jurgen, but Jurgen became aroused in response to him.

This was something Hernan hadn’t planned for at all. Though he knew this would shatter his carefully laid plans and resolve, he couldn’t stop.

‘Can you tell me what excites you about me? My face? Or perhaps my hands…?’

Jurgen didn’t answer.

But even without a response, Hernan knew. Jurgen couldn’t take his eyes off Hernan’s face the entire time Hernan explored his weak spots.

As a raven with a discerning eye for anything valuable, beautiful, or good, it seemed at the very least that Hernan’s face was to his liking.

That night, Hernan succeeded in physically consummating his relationship with Jurgen, and in exchange, lost the resolve to endure being hated.

He wouldn’t mind becoming the empire’s most notorious villain if it meant keeping Jurgen by his side.

Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a tiny sliver of hope that Jurgen might come to love him.

And that faint hope was the reason Hernan was now slumped over his desk, feeling as if he were withering away.

[If you’re going to keep wallowing in self-pity like that, why don’t you go see Ollyard? One Love potion would fix everything.]

“No, I refuse.”

[Stubborn fool. That man is no ordinary. The more you corner him, the deeper he’ll dig to find an escape.]

“I’m aware of that.”

[Why not use your power, then?]

“Thank you, but I’d rather not.”

[So, you’re going to spend your days chasing him like a dog on a roof? What’s the point of having a mouth if you don’t use it? Talk to him. Make him fall for you.]

At least, on the bright side, that roof belonged to his own house. Hernan wanted to retort but swallowed his words with a sigh.

“I’d like to give him a little more time… for now.”

[Time? You foolish youngster.]

Unless Hernan went to the shrine himself, the Yudenet family’s staff wouldn’t be able to strike him over the head with their staff.

Ignoring the rumbling voice of the ancient dragon in his mind, Hernan thought back to the day he first met Jurgen.

---

It was the night of a pre-party gathering for the adults, and Countess Maha, the party’s hostess, was someone who loved children. She had set up a separate space for the children so that couples could attend with their kids.

However, the countess’s love for children had blinded her to what might happen when a group of kids were left together in a small party hall filled with child-friendly drinks, finger snacks, and desserts.

“Look at this one! What a mess!”

“Shouldn’t we have a servant throw him out?”

Though Hernan had been dragged into the children’s party hall by his two older brothers, he hadn’t been treated as a proper noble by anyone, making him an easy target for bullying.

The children tied ribbons in his hair, ripped buttons from his clothes, sprinkled ash from the fireplace over him, and then placed a bucket over his head.

The servant, though visibly agitated, didn’t intervene.

After all, the ringleader was the countess’s eldest son, backed by Hernan’s brothers.

The servant could do nothing but avert his eyes and remain silent as Hernan was tossed around like a toy, unable to resist, before fleeing to the garden with the bucket still on his head.

Once Hernan had left the party hall, the servant found himself in a dilemma.

Should he go after him?

Hernan’s brothers had threatened, ‘If you help him, I’ll have you fired.’ But if the boy got lost outside, the servant would surely face the consequences.

At that moment, Jurgen, who had joined the children late after overhearing business discussions among the adults, quietly followed the direction Hernan had fled.

It wasn’t hard for Jurgen to find Hernan, who was sobbing with the bucket still on his head and his shoes lost somewhere along the way.

Without a second thought, Jurgen knelt down and put the shoes back on Hernan’s bruised feet, not caring about getting his own hands dirty.

Instead of dragging Hernan back to the party hall, he sat beside him.

“You still don’t want to go back in?”

When Hernan nodded his head under the bucket, Jurgen smiled and nodded in return.

“Alright then. You stay here quietly. I’m hungry since I didn’t get to eat dinner. I’ll go grab something to eat and drink and bring it back. Wait here for me.”

Hernan had thought the nameless young noble who had spoken those words would never return.

Though it was pitiful, much like the other servants and adults who had sympathy for Hernan, I had assumed it was a troublesome matter I wouldn’t get involved in, something of that level.

However, unexpectedly, Jurgen returned with both hands full of baskets. He even had a mat slung over his side, seemingly from nowhere. To anyone else, he looked as if he had come out for a picnic.

“How long are you going to keep wearing that bucket? You need to eat something to regain your strength.”

Jurgen, who had brought a generous assortment of special desserts, pastries, and snacks claimed to be made by the Count’s renowned chef, offered them to Hernan with a nonchalant expression.

When Jurgen, feeling frustrated, tried to remove the bucket Hernan was wearing, Hernan flapped his arms and retreated.

Although he couldn’t see outside while wearing the bucket, Jurgen’s attire visible below the bucket was clearly that of a well-to-do family.

It was better for Hernan to keep wearing the bucket rather than show his soot-covered face.

“I-I don’t want to, I won’t take it off…!”

Jurgen raised an eyebrow at Hernan’s clumsy speech and unrefined language, which was uncharacteristic for a noble child, but soon he slipped his hand carrying the snacks into the bucket.

“If you don’t want to take it off, eat while wearing it. You brought food for yourself, so you should eat it. If you waste the food, you’ll be punished.”

When Hernan was startled by the word “punishment,” Jurgen was even more surprised and tried to comfort Hernan.

* * *