* * *
Because Sylvian cried all night, the training he was supposed to start the next day was postponed.
A few days later, he was finally able to begin the physical training he had been so eager for.
“Are you still alive?”
Beside him, his guard, Raizen, poked the duchess with a finger to check if he was still breathing.
Sylvian turned his head, panting heavily.
“You managed three more laps today.”
Whisen informed the collapsed Sylvian of his progress.
“Huff? Really?!”
“…Yes. Well done.”
Considering that he had collapsed after just five laps on the first day, this was a remarkable improvement.
Now, he was running twenty laps.
‘Surprisingly persistent.’
Whisen lifted the duchess, who had collapsed in the middle of the training grounds.
If he got so much as a scratch, the Duke would never let the knights hear the end of it.
“It’s all thanks to you, Whisen.”
The once-awkward speech pattern had now completely changed.
At first, Whisen hadn’t liked it, but now, he oddly missed the way Sylvian used to glance at him for approval.
‘I must be losing my mind.’
“You still have a long way to go. Rest for five minutes, then we’ll move on to the next training.”
Whisen deliberately spoke in a stiff tone before turning away.
He didn’t know what had possessed Sylvian to suddenly start training, but as long as he was on the training grounds, Whisen had to be extra cautious.
“Okay! Whisen, you’re really nice!”
‘Nice, huh.’
Sylvian glanced at Whisen, who was standing at a distance, then quickly looked away.
He hadn’t been sure at first, but now he was certain.
Even now, Whisen was watching him with a frown.
The temporary resting area that Zeroth had set up was much warmer than the outside air.
Magical formations had also been placed around the training grounds to raise the temperature, ensuring he wouldn’t catch a cold.
And yet, Whisen insisted on placing him on a rug.
“You must be thirsty. Here, drink this.”
A cup of perfectly warm tea was placed in his hands.
Taken aback, Sylvian accepted it and nodded.
“Yuri is really amazing. To think he already overcame all this training.”
“Didn’t Young Master Holt fully recover before his coming-of-age ceremony? He’s not someone you can compare yourself to, Sylvian.”
As soon as Sylvian let out a wistful sigh, Whisen immediately countered.
Ever since visiting the Duke’s estate, Yuri had taken every chance to come over—sometimes joining training, sometimes sharing what he learned at the academy.
“Still, he’s impressive. I don’t think I could have even considered doing the same.”
“But you are doing it now, aren’t you? There’s no need to compare yourself to others. Just focus on what you can do.”
Whisen might have seemed cold and blunt, but he was a good person.
Sylvian had been debating whether he was dragging him into his own affairs, and now, he had his answer.
It was time to settle things clearly.
As he sipped his warm tea, he observed Whisen standing there.
‘Hmm.’
Just letting things go felt like a waste.
With his tall stature and sharp features, he had a cold demeanor, yet his fingertips were surprisingly delicate.
If he wanted to escape from Zeroth, he needed someone inside to help him.
Not someone who would betray Zeroth—just someone who liked him enough to offer small favors.
At first, he had thought that kind of relationship would be enough, but now, it seemed like Whisen held deeper feelings for him.
‘I really am a sinful man.’
Tap.
“Your lips will get injured.”
Whisen carefully touched his lips, which he had been unconsciously biting in deep thought.
The firm fingertips rubbed against his lips, sending warmth spreading through them.
“Hnn.”
“If the training is too much, do you want to rest?”
“No. Help me up.”
As he let out a small hum, Whisen quickly withdrew his hand.
Still, he maintained his usual composed expression as he held Sylvian’s waist and helped him up.
Pat, pat.
Once he steadied him, Whisen dusted off Sylvian’s training clothes.
‘Even if it’s a shame, there’s nothing I can do.’
Sylvian gazed at Whisen, who was keeping his distance, then shifted his eyes away.
“We’ll resume training.”
“When can I start using a sword?”
‘You’re shameless.’
Whisen checked Sylvian’s arm, which still lacked any visible muscle.
“At least another six months.”
‘My body isn’t made of cotton! Six whole months?!’
Frustrated by Whisen’s response, Sylvian stomped his foot and stormed out of the resting area.
‘Why does everything about him seem cute?’
Whisen, lifting the tent flap, suppressed a sigh.
He firmly held back the corners of his mouth from curling up.
This wasn’t an emotion he should have.
The lingering sensation of those soft lips under his fingers made him shake his hand irritably.
After witnessing the Duke’s actions post-marriage, it was clear that he had no intention of abandoning his spouse.
For Whisen, feeling shaken by an act of kindness toward someone weaker than him was proof that he still had a long way to go.
He forced down the emotions welling up inside him.
“How is the training going?”
“He can now complete twenty laps with five breaks in between. He can manage thirty sit-ups and, if I hold his clothes, about ten push-ups.”
It was time for the daily report on the duchess’s activities.
The Duke still monitored everything about him.
Listening to Whisen’s report, Zeroth chuckled.
Was it even possible for someone to gain this little muscle?
Even average betas weren’t this weak.
It had been fifteen days of training, yet there was barely any improvement.
It seemed like the countess was right—he would need more potions.
“Do you think he has any talent with a sword?”
‘What a shameless couple.’
Whisen swallowed back a sigh.
“He still can’t even lift a wooden sword. There’s nothing to discuss regarding talent.”
At that, the Duke cleared his throat awkwardly.
“You’re not expecting him to become an outstanding swordsman, are you?”
Whisen’s tone turned slightly sharp.
Zeroth smirked at his curt attitude.
His desk was stacked with reports detailing Sylvian’s daily routine.
Multiple people were involved in compiling these reports, making it impossible for anyone to submit false information.
“Of course not. You’re doing well. Get rid of any unnecessary pests that approach him.”
“…Understood.”
Would that include himself?
Whisen hid his unease at the Duke’s sharp gaze.
It was a good thing he had already sorted out his feelings.
Among the Duke’s knights, there wasn’t a single one who harbored improper feelings toward the duchess.
They were simply amazed that their master had fallen in love.
Not to mention, the duchess was so small and adorable that everyone was too busy fawning over him to even consider anything beyond that.
No matter what Sylvian did, they only showered him with praise and adoration.
‘They’re all simple-minded fools who wouldn’t dare look higher than their place.’
“And Young Master Holt?”
“They’re like brothers.”
“Brothers?”
At the Duke’s question, Whisen recalled Yuri Holt.
At first, he had been incredibly annoying.
He couldn’t tolerate anyone touching what belonged to the Duke, so he used to separate them whenever they got too close.
Recently, however, things had calmed down.
* * *
