* * *
Ashard pulled Eren even tighter into his embrace, and Carlyle’s face visibly soured.
“Have you forgotten the terms of cooperation?”
His voice dropped low—dangerously low.
His crimson eyes gleamed with the unspoken threat that if his demand wasn’t met, the deal was off.
Eren bowed his head even lower.
There had been a deal yesterday, but Ashard was a duke of Trovien.
Naturally, his allegiance would lie with the Trovien knights over someone from Epentel.
Desperately, Eren clutched at Ashard’s coat.
His pale hands trembled.
‘Please, please…’
How desperately had he prayed?
He tried to calm himself, but he couldn’t stop his heart from pounding.
What would he say if they asked why he was in Ashard’s arms?
What if they tried to take him back?
Would he be able to escape again?
Just as anxiety and fear swirled inside his head—
“Well, if you insist.”
Ashard’s arm around his waist tightened, pulling him even closer.
With a sudden tug, their bodies pressed together completely.
Those golden eyes gazed straight down into his.
And the moment their eyes locked—
“…Mmph?!”
The breath that escaped in surprise was instantly cut off.
Something hot and soft suddenly entered, making Eren’s eyes widen in shock.
Large hands cupped his cheeks, as if to deepen the contact between their lips.
What followed—the thing that slid from his lips into his mouth—began to move, almost as if flaunting itself.
With the kiss continuing endlessly, Eren’s breath began to hitch, and a moan slipped out before he could stop it.
Feeling like he might suffocate if this went on, he hastily grabbed Ashard’s wrist.
Realizing Eren’s state, Ashard pulled his lips away.
As Eren gasped for air, Ashard embraced him, shielding his face as if to hide him from view, then looked over at Carlyle and Julius with a gaze that said that should be enough.
“I don’t care either way. Stay if you want to watch more. Or just leave now that you’ve seen enough.”
“……”
“Not every day we get an audience. I almost don’t mind.”
When Carlyle showed no sign of backing off, Ashard leaned in and kissed Eren again.
This time it was deeper, richer, far beyond the earlier kiss in intensity.
Overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensation invading him, Eren could do nothing but let his mouth fall open.
“We’re withdrawing.”
At Carlyle’s command, the Epentel army began to retreat.
But Eren, dazed from the relentless kissing, didn’t even notice.
He was simply led away by Ashard.
He didn’t know how much time had passed.
Only when Ashard finally pulled away—leaving Eren’s lips swollen and tinted red—did Eren regain a sliver of clarity.
Blinking himself back to his senses, he looked around.
The Epentel troops were long gone, and the Trovien soldiers, unwilling to watch their superior officer being kissed, had all retreated back inside the camp.
Realizing his cheeks were burning from the lingering heat, Eren frantically covered his face and pushed Ashard away.
But perched on the same horse and facing such a difference in size, the gesture had little effect.
‘Did I… just get kissed?! Twice?!!’
“What the hell was that just now…!”
“I had no choice if I wanted to keep your face hidden.”
Eren’s mood sank at the answer.
He knew it was unavoidable, but that wasn’t the only reason he felt this way.
‘It was just a kiss. No big deal, right?’
But unlike him—blushing madly—Ashard looked like nothing had happened, as if the kiss had been purely tactical.
That alone was enough to bruise the fragile pride of a twenty-year-old who’s never even dated.
Muttering an excuse that barely qualified as one, Ashard nonchalantly urged his horse forward.
He helped Eren down with ease, even as Eren fumed silently.
Ashard disappeared beyond the encampment, far enough that Eren couldn’t see him anymore.
Leaning against a large tree, he let out a deep sigh.
His face, which hadn’t betrayed a hint of emotion earlier, now began to flush red.
“…Damn it.”
He cursed under his breath.
Looking down at the tightness below, he gave a half-laugh of disbelief and pressed his hand to his eyes.
Why the hell had he done that to someone who had probably just come of age?
Clinging to him, that sweet, clean scent—it messed with his head in all the worst ways.
And the way Eren had trembled in his arms made him feel like he’d just tainted something pure.
Not to mention that delicate frame, that pale skin—more than enough to stir a healthy man’s instincts.
Just picturing those wide, innocent eyes gazing up at him was enough to make the ache worse.
The lips that had always worn a teasing smile now curled into a crooked smirk.
Ashard raked his fingers through his hair, sweeping back the bangs that had fallen over his forehead.
The veins on the back of his hand stood out sharply.
Something unexplainable surged from deep within his chest.
An impure desire… for someone he’d only met yesterday.
Since that day, Epentel forces had made no further moves toward Trovien.
Rumor had it that their strategy to march through the Latilan Kingdom and attack the capital—just as Eren predicted—had fallen apart.
Eren found himself reflecting again on what Julius had said that day.
That he only joined the war just to stay near him.
It sent a shiver up his spine just imagining what could’ve happened if he’d stayed in Epentel any longer.
Knowing them, they were surely still looking for him.
In that sense, it was a godsend that he had willingly followed Ashard when he came to “abduct” him.
Thanks to Eren’s disappearance, the war between Epentel and Trovien had effectively collapsed into an unresolved stalemate.
Even Ashard seemed caught off guard that Epentel had fully retreated.
‘Anyway… It’s already been a week since we arrived in Trovien.’
With the ceasefire, Ashard had returned to the Trovien Empire, and Eren had followed him there.
Thanks to Ashard’s thoughtfulness, he was resting comfortably at the Fridit estate, but he couldn’t hide his displeasure.
And for good reason—since that kiss, Ashard hadn’t even tried to meet his gaze.
Even though they had ridden the same horse back to the estate, even though he had helped Eren down at his request, they hadn’t exchanged a single word.
Ashard had even frowned, looking openly displeased, and that stung Eren more than he’d admit.
Eren had even tried once to thank him for handling things so smoothly that day, but Ashard had avoided him outright—even when their eyes met.
Yes, it irritated him.
But that wasn’t the real reason for his sour mood.
‘Why the hell can’t I stop thinking about it?!’
Morning, night, before sleep, during meals, in the bath.
That kiss haunted him at all hours.
And the sensation—so vivid, so real.
Eren unconsciously touched his lips.
They’d been soft… but also rough—
“Aaaaagh! Stop thinking about it!”
He violently shook his head, trying to erase the image of Ashard—his lips, no, his entire presence—from his mind.
Silver hair, once neatly brushed, now danced wildly across his forehead.
‘If you’re gonna be stuck in my head, then at least show up and talk to me!’
There was no helping the frustration.
Very few people even knew Eren was in Trovien.
It was top secret—something he had requested, too.
If Epentel ever found out, he could easily become a hostage, and that would be a nightmare.
* * *
