* * *
Eren couldn’t say a word.
Watching his face freeze, Ashard smirked knowingly.
‘Why would something like that be on stage…?’
Thankfully, the theater was dark.
Otherwise, his bright red face would’ve been completely exposed.
In a panic, Eren turned his head and covered his eyes with a hand.
The two leads had barely stepped onto the stage before they started passionately kissing.
Then they briefly pulled apart—only to strip and dive back into one another.
Amplified magically, the sounds echoed throughout the theater.
For Eren, who had tried hard to remain “pure,” the show was far too much.
‘I knew something was off with him earlier…!’
Those cryptic lines… he should’ve suspected something, but never imagined this was the kind of play it’d be.
And just then, Ashard’s earlier comment echoed in his head:
“Usually, yes.”
‘Of course!’
No noble would watch something this explicit out in the open!
‘No wonder the viewing box was sealed off from every direction…’’
Now that he looked again, there wasn’t a single seat that resembled a regular audience seat.
It was as if this performance was a special show meant only for those admitted into this section.
Hearing faint voices from elsewhere made it clear that the other audience areas must be similarly structured.
A plush sofa that looked like a bed.
No, it was a bed, not a sofa.
Once he understood the situation, it instantly clicked why there was a bed and wine in what was supposed to be a mere theater viewing area.
‘…This is basically just watching an actual R-rated performance.’
If he had known, he wouldn’t have suggested watching a play.
With the explicit scenes unfolding so openly, Eren had nowhere to rest his eyes, and turned in a hurry to look at Ashard instead.
It was too embarrassing to look forward, yet closing his eyes made him feel like an innocent child.
That was why he looked at Ashard—not out of any special reason, but because it was the only remaining option Eren could choose.
Unlike Eren, Ashard’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.
His long, droopy eyes wore a look of dull disinterest, as if he were bored.
Curious if the scene had changed somehow, Eren turned his head back to the stage—only for it to snap right back in just one second.
‘Why does he look so used to this?’
“You seem oddly familiar with this kind of play, Your Grace.”
Eren’s tone came out petulantly without meaning to, surprising even himself.
But he didn’t show it, simply staring at Ashard.
“Do you think I’ve made it to this age without watching a single play?”
“…Sounds like you’ve seen plenty.”
When Eren replied with a hint of sarcasm, Ashard tilted his head slightly, as if to say, think what you like.
“You were on the battlefield so much you didn’t even have time to sleep, and yet you had time to watch plays?”
“…”
“So who exactly did you watch these kinds of plays with—?”
“Are you… jealous right now?”
At that out-of-nowhere comment, Eren stared at him in disbelief.
Jealous? Who’s jealous?
He meant to deny it, but the moment had already slipped past him.
“Don’t worry. I don’t enjoy that kind of thing.”
“…Who said I was worried?”
“Well, unless it’s with you, maybe.”
“W-What are you even—! Why would you say something like that so casually?!”
Eren flinched, trembling as if something had struck him.
The instinct to immediately put more distance between them came like a reflex.
He backed all the way to the edge of the bed.
Ashard let out a low chuckle.
That was the fastest Eren had moved, ever.
He looked so incredibly naive like this, but his occasional flashes of unconscious allure were driving Ashard mad.
Poke him lightly and he’d flail; hint at some interest and he’d lift his chin in challenge—Ashard honestly wondered if he should just lock him up somewhere.
“You seem to be overestimating me. But I’m not really that good at hiding my emotions.”
Just looking at him tested Ashard’s patience.
Whether Eren knew it or not, his presence alone was enough to ensnare him.
One more word, and Ashard felt he really wouldn’t be able to hold back the desire rising from deep inside.
“If you want to watch, go ahead. I’m tired—I’ll get some sleep.”
Ashard lay down on the bed, resting one arm under his head.
As he stayed still, pretending to sleep, he heard muttering beside him.
“What, he’s actually asleep…?”
Ashard nearly laughed when he felt a hand wave in front of his face, likely to check.
He barely held back a chuckle and didn’t move.
Then he began to feel small movements behind him.
Eren had crept closer, assuming they’d be sleeping side by side.
Ashard wasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t pushed him away that Eren kept scooting in even more freely.
Either way, all of Ashard’s attention was now focused on the warmth at his back.
“You know… I’m only saying this because you’re asleep.”
Even while keeping his breathing steady, Ashard focused intently on Eren’s words.
What was he trying to say, waiting until Ashard was ‘asleep’?
A smile nearly tugged at his lips from the randomness of it—but the words that followed made his expression freeze completely.
“It might’ve been the Emperor’s order, but I was really relieved when you showed up back then.”
“…”
“I’m glad… it was you, Your Grace.”
Softly spoken, heartfelt words.
As he said it, Eren gently clutched the fabric of Ashard’s clothes like he didn’t want to let go.
‘…Damn it.’
Ashard cursed silently.
The fact that Eren had no idea what his words did to him made his head throb.
‘Who do you think kept me up night after night?’
Eren assumed Ashard had missed sleep because of his duties, but that wasn’t the real reason.
It was Eren—his words, his actions, even the simplest things—that kept popping into Ashard’s mind at all hours.
Whether reading documents or handling state affairs, those thoughts kept creeping in and slowing him down.
Melody had taken over for him a few times, but even she had gotten impatient from waiting for his delayed approvals.
Even when he resolved to snap out of it, it never lasted.
Honestly, being stabbed on the battlefield might have been easier to endure.
Ashard stared into the darkness in front of him.
It was pitch black—just like his own heart.
So he forced his eyes shut.
When the play ended and they stepped outside the theater, the sun had already set.
The sky glowed with a soft crimson hue.
Without realizing it, Eren slumped his shoulders.
‘…I really shouldn’t have asked to see that play.’
It was evening now, so Ashard would surely say they should return to the mansion.
He must be tired—and more importantly, he had plenty of work waiting.
Eren couldn’t bring himself to ask him to stay longer.
Had they wandered around the city instead of watching the play, he wouldn’t have had regrets.
Eren felt it was so unfair.
It was his fault—Ashard’s fault.
‘If he’d warned me, I never would’ve said yes.’
* * *
