* * *
After taking in a deep breath of the fresh breeze, he explained,
“The nobles are split into two factions—those who want to raise it and those who don’t. Today, they’ll face off over it.”
“And you’re on…?”
“The ‘don’t raise’ side. Raising taxes now would be greedy. Of course, the other side won’t back down easily—they have their reasons too.”
Even hearing about it sounded complicated.
Adam silently massaged their arms in a wordless show of support.
The two brothers, catching his intent, smiled.
“Sigh… How can we leave Adam behind? Makes it hard to go.”
Chester cupped Adam’s cheek, then showered his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, and his lips with kisses.
The lingering affection in those kisses made Adam feel lonely too.
It was just one night apart, but he already missed them.
“Rest well, and don’t overdo it.”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to stay indoors all the time. Remember what she said? Moderate activity and walks are good for you.”
“…Yes.”
“Why do you sound like that?”
Chester pressed his forehead to Adam’s, warm breath brushing his lips.
Finally, Adam let the feelings he’d been holding spill out.
“Because I’ll miss you.”
The words left his mouth, and embarrassment followed right after. Adam quickly added—
“Sorry for getting emotional. I think it might be because I’m pregnant. Pregnancy can affect your temperament, and… hmm.”
Before Adam could finish, Chester kissed him.
Their lips rubbed together; Chester’s tongue grazed Adam’s skin before he let out a soft laugh.
That gentle, sweet laugh made Adam smile too—he understood the unspoken message: stop saying unnecessary things.
“See? You look so much better when you smile.”
“Then I should smile for you more often.”
“You’d better. That’s an order.”
“Haha.”
Adam laughed aloud at the affectionate tease.
Chester lightly ruffled Adam’s hair before stepping back, though a trace of reluctance still lingered in his violet eyes.
Isaac, who had been watching from the side, reached out his arms.
He pulled Adam into an embrace, pressing his face to Adam’s shoulder.
Startled, Adam froze, but Isaac only hugged him tighter and inhaled deeply.
The scent from Adam’s pregnant body was subtle yet faintly sweet.
“Want me to buy you something? Just say the word.”
“I don’t need anything. You always treat me so well…”
“Still, think about it.”
“Hmm… Could you maybe get me another book? There are plenty of famous bookstores in the capital.”
“What kind of book?”
After some thought, Adam told him the title.
It was a well-known philosophy text—famous for being one that the respected scholar Myers had read in his youth.
The book was so old that even the academy barely had a copy to lend out, and Adam had only read it once.
“I’m not saying you have to.”
“I’ll definitely get it for you.”
“Ah! You really don’t have to!”
Flustered, Adam tried to pull away, but Isaac only hugged him tighter, deepening his embarrassment.
Chester, watching from nearby, chuckled like a mischievous boy.
“That’s right, Adam.”
Just before boarding the carriage, Chester seemed to remember something.
Turning back, he stepped up to Adam again.
“If you get too bored, you should go see the waterfall. Your lady said that would be fine—in fact, she even said it’d be good for you to get some fresh air.”
“Oh, the waterfall.”
Adam had completely forgotten about it, too busy spending time with the Carlisle brothers.
Just being with them had already left his heart feeling full.
“There’s someone who can guide you, so you can relax and enjoy it.”
“Thank you for thinking of me, Lord Chester. Safe travels.”
“Of course. I’ll be back safely.”
With a calm reply, Chester squeezed Adam’s hand before letting go.
Soon, the carriage carrying the two dukes departed.
Standing alone in front of the villa, Adam rubbed his arms.
The places their hands had touched still tingled faintly.
The imperial palace held a hall vast enough to fit several hundred people.
With black obsidian floors and dark wooden tables and chairs, the space naturally exuded an air of solemnity.
Year after year, countless proposals were born here, with nobles gathering to engage in heated debate.
“Of course we need to raise taxes!”
Isaac and Chester sat quietly, observing.
One noble shouted over the noise.
“Look at the situation! For the past few years, we’ve fought wars big and small. The Duke of Carlisle in particular contributed greatly, and we finally gained fertile land. But as much as we gained, we also lost plenty. The long war emptied the treasury—every bit of it went to feeding soldiers.”
Several nobles shouted “Hear, hear!” in agreement.
Those near the Carlisle brothers, however, protested and pointed accusing fingers.
Amid the uproar, the first noble raised his voice further.
“So the answer is a land tax increase! Collect more taxes and stabilize the Empire. Once things are stable, we can lower them again…”
“Do you really think raising taxes will stabilize the country?”
A clear voice cut through the clamor.
Isaac lowered his gaze, remaining silent while his younger brother chose to speak.
Chester rose to his feet, sweeping his gaze across the assembly.
The room fell silent.
A single word from this well-regarded young man could hush even the noisiest crowd.
“You are aware, I presume, that the southern regions suffered greatly from heavy rains? And yet you’d raise the land tax there as well? Their crops have been wiped out—it’s already hard enough for them to pay the current rate. And you’d still raise it…?”
Chester’s tone was soft, but his words carried weight.
“I can already see the farmers starving to death. What use is it to fill the treasury that way? If you want corpses littering the valleys, then by all means—keep pushing for it.”
“What nonsense…! Don’t exaggerate!”
“Exaggeration? I’m only pointing out reality.”
Chester’s gaze shifted to several nobles—those who all governed southern lands.
Understanding his intent to give them the floor, they rose immediately, and the room erupted into fresh argument.
“Brother.”
Chester leaned toward Isaac and murmured,
“That old man keeps glaring at me.”
Isaac didn’t bother to ask who—he already knew Gordon was watching them with a sly grin.
“He must not like you.”
“Even so, to glare so openly… I’m shaking in my boots.”
Chester’s voice was calm, with not the slightest trace of fear.
Gordon would surely be irritated if he heard the mockery.
“Where’s His Majesty?”
“They say he’ll come in this afternoon. Probably means, ‘argue all you want without me.’”
“Wise of him. No point listening to this first thing in the morning. Everyone’s just saying what they already came here to say.”
“Exactly. Very wise indeed.”
Chester tilted his head, watching the bickering nobles with a serene expression.
“Raising the land tax… ridiculous. They just want to line their own pockets. And they’ll pretend to praise you while using the war as an excuse to blame you for it—claiming the increase is inevitable because of what happened.”
“Predictable.”
Isaac’s curt reply carried a hint of cynicism.
He wasn’t surprised, nor was he afraid.
With great power came those who would try to take it away—it was inevitable.
The real question was how to strip off those leech-like parasites.
‘Perhaps it’s time to crush them by force.’
As he frowned slightly at the thought, his eyes met Gordon’s by chance.
Gordon’s lips curved faintly before the smile vanished.
“…?”
A small question mark seemed to form on Isaac’s brow.
What was that supposed to mean?
The more he looked, the more a slow irritation welled up.
‘He’s been smiling like that this whole time. It’s not as if the situation is in his favor… why?’
He searched his thoughts for anything that might explain it, but nothing came to mind.
Isaac concluded that Gordon’s smile was a false one—a snake-like man, hiding his frustration and feigning calm.
He surely knew that such composure unsettled others even more.
‘So that’s his game.’
With that decided, Isaac refused to be drawn in.
He returned to his usual impassive expression and sipped the water before him with deliberate ease, an air of grace and detachment in the movement.
Gordon was the first to look away.
His face still seemed bright as he watched the ongoing quarrel—yet there was something about it, as if he were holding something back.
Suspicious.
* * *
