Chapter 60

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 60

Chapter Title: When Jokes Go Too Far, They Become Serious

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"I want to see you in the hat."

Kaiyan glanced at his reflection in the mirror as he smoothed his hair, puzzled.

"Aren't you looking at it right now?"

"Just the hat."

Clodel met his gaze head-on, her words laced with provocation.

"Just the hat."

Kaiyan felt as if he'd been struck on the head again.

Every time his wife surprised him with such unexpected words or actions, it thrilled him to no end.

Grabbing the front of his loose shirt—the one he wore when relaxing at home—Kaiyan ripped it open in one swift motion.

Pop. Pop pop.

Buttons and threads tore away messily, revealing his chiseled chest muscles.

Clodel, who had been gazing at him so haughtily just moments ago with her "just the hat," now widened her eyes in shock.

"Why that look on your face?"

"Oh, no, it's just... um."

Kaiyan smirked arrogantly, lifting his chin as he shrugged off the tattered shirt hanging loosely from his body, watching her shrink back in flustered embarrassment.

Glancing over his shoulder, he couldn't help but chuckle when he saw her staring blankly past him.

She was fixated on the mirror's reflection of his back muscles.

Under the wide brim of the hat casting its shadow, his abs must have flexed beautifully like a solid shield as he slipped his arms free from the remaining shirt fabric—but she hadn't had many chances to see his bare back yet.

"Clodel."

At the sound of her name, the woman who had been mesmerized by the mirror jumped in surprise as he strode toward her.

"I-it was a joke. Obviously. Ha. Haha."

Every step he took forward, she retreated one back, until she darted away like a startled sparrow, ducking behind one of the bed's sturdy footposts that supported the canopy.

Is she actually running away?

She always acted just like this.

Kaiyan swallowed hard, a hunter's instinct surging from deep in his chest.

"You're taking the joke too far."

"S-sorry."

No need to apologize.

Kaiyan was thoroughly enjoying this birthday celebration.

"They say when a joke goes too far, it becomes serious."

"No! It's because you keep teasing me every time you give me a gift."

Clodel clutched the post with both hands, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her forehead against the back of her hand.

She looked just like a baby bird hiding its head in a bush, and Kaiyan nearly burst out laughing like a madman but held it back.

"You're always teasing me, and it makes me shy."

"Teasing? I've never done that."

"Liar."

Kaiyan reached around the thick post and grasped her shoulders. The sturdy pillar was wide enough to fully hide her small face, so he couldn't see her expression.

But he didn't need to see it to know.

"I'm always serious, Clodel."

He leaned in close, his voice low and seductive, whispering softly.

"Don't you want to see?"

The slender shoulders in his grasp trembled.

"No. R-really, no."

"Look at me, Clodel."

Kaiyan slipped his hand under her chin, tilting her face up until she met his eyes. Her cheeks flushed a deep red with embarrassment.

As if she'd forgotten he was the husband she'd shared a bed with for months.

"I told you not to provoke me so clumsily."

His sharp reprimand slipped out in a cool tone, and he captured her lips as she looked up at him.

He could feel her trembling through their pressed lips.

As her hands released the post and he pulled her into his arms, Clodel melted fully against him.

"Don't tempt me too much."

Kaiyan gazed down at her as he laid her back on the bed.

"I never had a taste for this sort of thing, but if it's what you want, I'll indulge you."

"What?"

He adjusted the hat—his first birthday gift from his wife—back onto his head.

Before Clodel could say another word, the shadow from the wide brim fell over her.

The capital in autumn brought a sharp chill to the night breeze.

Valquiter donned a coat made of fine fox fur and gazed down at the city lights from the aerial garden.

True to its reputation as Oberon Kingdom's most bustling district, the streets sprawled like a spider's web, ablaze with light that banished the night.

Above it all, the Milky Way sliced through the dark sky, showering brilliant starlight as if ready to pour down.

In this sea of earthly and heavenly glow, the young king alone tilted his glass, his eyes filled with loneliness.

Bitter, perhaps even coldly furious.

Either way, it was far from warm or gentle.

"A birthday, huh."

Valquiter raised his glass toward the south, in the direction of Rowen.

"Happy birthday, brother."

After the autumn festival came Lord Kaiyan of Rowen's birthday.

Then, just a week later, King Valquiter of Oberon's own birthday would usher in the royal celebration.

The week-long festivities—from pre-event banquets to the grand festival and palace ball on the day itself—rivaled the Founding Festival as the kingdom's biggest event of the year.

"I figured he'd grumble and refuse to come."

Kaiyan was methodical and rigid, despising it whenever Valquiter tossed around royal commands to summon him.

He preferred advance notice—at least a month, or a few weeks ahead—so he could clear his schedule completely and handle matters in focused blocks.

So Valquiter had expected outrage at the last-minute order to head to the capital with just a week left. Yet, surprisingly, came the dry but affirmative reply: "I will attend, Your Majesty."

"Feels off. Really irks me."

The letter from Rowen had arrived a week or ten days later than a telegram would have.

It was standard practice for lords to plant spies in their territories' telegraph offices.

If anything suspicious from House Temneth's telegraph office was headed to the king—especially regarding territory movements—it would be intercepted immediately.

The agent in Rowen had sent a hand-written letter via courier, so horse travel and weather often delayed it.

But this one was marked urgent: the courier had ridden to another telegraph office a day's ride away to send it straight to the palace. Kaiyan was hosting a birthday banquet for the first time.

"A celebration."

No one sets their own birthday table.

Since the death of the previous Duke and Duchess of Temneth, Kaiyan hadn't seemed to care much for birthdays.

So why now was he suddenly inviting people and throwing a lavish event on such short notice?

"Because of that woman?"

The woman he'd seen at the lake.

Valquiter had all but concluded she wasn't "Lady Irena" after all.

"Clodel Queen. A Queen, huh."

Rumors from Rowen's festival said the new Lady of the territory—the Duchess of Temneth—had appeared dancing with Kaiyan, stunning the plaza into silence with her stunning beauty.

And the woman supposedly bitten by a crocodile showed no limp.

Kaiyan had always made excuses to skip the king's birthday whenever summoned.

Five years at war didn't count, but afterward, twice he'd simply cited territory duties.

He'd only show up if Valquiter went hunting in places like Prompt near Rowen to drag him out.

"That woman..."

Thinking of her left Valquiter feeling listless.

Yet knowing Kaiyan had taken a Vermonte woman as his wife somehow made him even more anxious.

What was this feeling?

It was just plain rotten, without rhyme or reason.

Like a treasure that rightfully belonged in his own hands had slipped away to tarnish elsewhere.

"Kaiyan. You mustn't change."

Especially not because of her.

Becoming a flawless leader at such a young age was no easy feat.

At least, Valquiter had thought Kaiyan bore the same heavy burden he did.

The hardships no one else could understand bordered on solitude.

He'd wanted Kaiyan to linger in the shadows as much as he did.

But if Kaiyan had changed, he needed to see it with his own eyes—not from scraps of paper flying in sporadically.

Kaiyan Pluk Temneth.

The noble duke forged and raised by majestic Rowen.

"They say when people start doing things they never did before, it's time they died."

Valquiter sneered and downed his drink.

The birthday toast to his brother tasted bitter tonight.

Kaiyan's birthday banquet concluded without incident.

The vassals and kin in attendance didn't sharpen their glares at Clodel over her Vermonte origins.

Why do they stare only at me?

When she entered the hall on Kaiyan's arm, everyone who had been chattering like at the festival fell silent, just watching her. It had made her tense.

Sensing it, Kaiyan had gripped her hand reassuringly, letting her straighten her shoulders and feign composure.

But as the drinks flowed and the mood lightened, they approached one by one to present birthday gifts to Kaiyan, bowing to her as well and introducing themselves.

No one refused to bow because she was from the enemy house.

No one vented their anger at her that way.

She'd worried when he'd planned the event so hastily, but as he'd said, since they hadn't attended the wedding reception, it was good to hold this sooner rather than later.

Back then, she'd been soaked from the rain, in mourning, and sick from the castle's hostile atmosphere toward her and Hanna—not to mention her thoughts of I'll die anyway, so who cares if I see Temneth faces or not—so she hadn't wanted to go.

Now that she was alive, she regretted it a bit, but this banquet washed that regret away cleanly.

Hanna closed the large trunk's lid, pulled the straps tight, and straightened up.

"Whew. All done."

Hanna wiped the sweat from her brow.

A servant entered and carried out the heavy trunk Hanna had packed.

"I packed your change of clothes for the road separately, and your palace outfit too."

"Thanks."

"The ball gown is being handled by Madam Marsel. The jewels went into the carriage earlier."

Hanna's competence shone through.

She packed Clodel's things with the meticulousness of someone born to serve a lord's lady.

Unaware that Duke Vermonte had sent her off empty-handed, she hadn't been responsible for Clodel's arrival in Rowen—but this time, she acted like any mistake would be entirely her fault if Clodel faced embarrassment in the capital.

Knock knock.

Someone knocked on the already-open door. Turning, Clodel saw Kaiyan standing there.

His refined suit was embroidered with gold thread, complete with a silk tie puffed stylishly at the neck.

He always looked handsome lounging around the castle, but dressed up with intent, he was breathtaking.

"Shall we go?"

Kaiyan offered his arm, and Clodel quickly linked hers through it.

"Yes."

Hanna dashed into the hallway, sounding aggrieved.

"Gloves! And the parasol too!"

"You handle it."

"Yes, my lord."

Today was the day they departed for the capital.

As the carriage lurched into motion, Clodel felt strangely unsettled.

Just last night, she'd been so excited about the trip that even Kaiyan's soothing hadn't helped her sleep.

But now, watching Rowen Castle shrink into the distance through the window, a wave of loneliness washed over her.

She pressed a hand to her chest and sighed. Kaiyan asked,

"Feeling ill?"

"No. Just my chest feels a bit..."

"Your chest...?"

Kaiyan eyed her, then paused.

"Are you seducing me right now? It's not even been five minutes since we left."