SLDS 21

Contrary to the rumors that he lived a dissolute life, Cecil Adrian mingled with the group of nobles with a more dignified posture than anyone. Though he let out a laugh, he was far from issuing vulgar temptations.

The men gathered in a group were each holding the same type of glass. A honey-colored liquid sloshed within the small glass tumblers, shaped like tulip petals. Their faces were thoroughly intoxicated from savoring the rare cognac that could only be found in the imperial palace.

Whenever their glasses began to empty, Cecil kindly poured them more. He did not refuse to do the kind of work that servants ought to do.

Even so, his posture remained consistently noble. It was less like he was waiting on them and more like he was bestowing a favor upon them.

“I agree with you to a certain extent. There is a need to appoint commoners to the cabinet as well.”

Cecil said, lightly swirling his half-full glass. The faint scent of vanilla wafting from it tickled the tip of his nose.

Tristan nodded at this.

“Because a society centered on the aristocracy is bound to eventually fall behind. Already in the capital, talented bourgeois are making names for themselves. If we were to appoint them, the empire would surely prosper even more.”

“But if that happens, the standing of the nobles will diminish.”

“Conflict with the establishment is an unavoidable part of the process.”

“That’s not something a nobleman should say, is it? Your father would be very disappointed to hear you.”

Cecil sat in a relaxed posture and brought the glass to his lips. Gulp. With one swallow, the glass was quickly empty. Without even being asked, Tristan brought over the bottle and filled Cecil’s glass to the brim.

“To be perfectly honest… I did not know I would end up having this kind of conversation with you, Mr. Cecil.”

“The same goes for me.”

“It feels surprisingly like your views are similar to mine.”

That’s because I can see right through you.

Instead of answering, Cecil only curved his eyes into a smile.

In his previous life, their differences of opinion were so severe that they were at each other’s throats, but now, he was completely accommodating Tristan.

Since they clicked on everything from preferences to every word spoken, Tristan acted as if he had met a soulmate.

It’s a bit of a cunning method, but it can’t be helped.

Cecil muttered inwardly and drank again. It looked as sweet as honey water, but its proof was quite high, and it went down scratching his throat. It felt like his esophagus was burning, as if he had swallowed a searing flame.

Tristan was absolutely crazy for cognac. There were times when the emperor would grant it as a reward, and he remembered how Tristan would savor it, sip by sip, every time.

The secretly stolen cognac was proving to be remarkably effective. After all, even Tristan Dyke, who was famous for being shy around strangers, was willing to join Cecil at his table upon seeing the bottle.

One glass, two glasses—as the number of drinks they shared increased, their conversation grew longer. Time flowed by endlessly as they shared opinions on various topics, from politics and economics to art.

At some point, the people around them left one by one, until only Cecil and Tristan remained at the table. Once there were no listening ears, Cecil brought up a more serious topic.

For instance, on which side the current imperial family’s authority should be more heavily weighted.

Of course, just because there were no listening ears didn’t mean there was no one watching.

Alexis had positioned himself in a spot where shadows fell, secretly observing Cecil and Tristan as they talked.

The red cloth that stretched from the ceiling to the floor was as thin as a dragonfly’s wing, making the area behind it clearly visible. It served only to divide the space and could not act as a secretive screen.

“Why is our handsome gentleman all alone in a secluded place like this?”

Just then, a slender arm wrapped around Alexis’s shoulder. Not even knowing who she was trying to seduce, the courtesan exuded a strong perfume scent and climbed onto Alexis’s lap.

“Because voyeurism is my hobby.”

Alexis gave a faint smile and wrapped his arm around the courtesan’s slim waist. Instead of shoving her away harshly, he decided to play along with the mood for the time being.

“Who are you watching? Ah… them?”

The courtesan craned her slender neck all the way back to look where Alexis’s gaze was directed. She let out a high-pitched giggle.

“When that man first arrived, it was absolute chaos. All the men were hiding their things between their legs and being on guard, you know?”

“On guard?”

“In case they got fucked, you see.”

The courtesan let out a thoroughly vulgar laugh as if recalling that moment. She leaned against Alexis’s broad shoulder and continued.

“It’s always the ones who don’t know their place who get ahead of themselves. A few blockheads, thinking ‘surely a man of his noble station wouldn’t debase himself like us,’ tried to make a pass at him and got thoroughly shut down. You have no idea how funny it was.”

“But he seems to be getting along quite well with that man. His name… was it Tristan Dyke?”

“Who knows? It seems there are a few people he fancies. Mr. Dyke is one of them. Seeing as he’s keeping him by his side and plying him with drinks, perhaps he’s picked him as his partner to warm his bed tonight?”

The courtesan’s hand roamed Alexis’s chest. For a handsome nobleman like this, she could spread her legs without even taking any money.

“What do you say? Shall we also spend a hot night in bed tonight?”

“I’m sorry, but I prefer watching.”

“As it happens, that’s my specialty. I can cater to any preference. What kind of position would you like to see? Who would you like to see doing it? Perhaps women together? That’s also possible.”

Alexis gave a dry smile and pressed a gold coin into her hand. It was an excessive reward for someone who was merely a playful conversation partner.

“You may go now. I wish to be alone.”

The courtesan seemed quite pleased with the unexpected reward and raised her red lips into a wide smile.

She left a kiss on Alexis’s cheek and promptly got off his lap. The woman was gone, but the strong scent of perfume remained. Alexis crossed his legs, folded his arms tightly, and stared forward again.

‘A man he fancies.’

His stern gaze turned to the man next to Cecil. Tristan Dyke was certainly a handsome man. He could be called good-looking, and though his build was slim, he also seemed quite tall. Perhaps Cecil’s ideal type was a man like that.

The two of them chattered away without a break, whatever it was they were talking about.

It was mostly Cecil asking questions and Tristan answering, and Cecil would listen to his words seriously and smile. It was a warm and gentle smile that anyone would find likable.

It was an unfamiliar sight to Alexis. The way Cecil seemed much more mature than his age strangely kept getting on his nerves.

It must be an act, but why did it feel as if it were his true self?

Just how many faces did he have? He couldn’t figure out the true nature of the man named Cecil Adrian at all.

Before he knew it, his sharply gleaming blue eyes were fixed only on Cecil. The arms crossed over his chest grew even more rigid, and his tenacious gaze tried to deconstruct Cecil’s bare face. The goal of scouting a candidate for chief aide had long since been erased from Alexis’s mind.

Now, the large liquor bottle was also showing its bottom. Cecil, who had maintained his elegance to the end despite his relaxed posture, also began to show a dazed look in his eyes.

“Are you all right? You seem to be drunk.”

“……”

Cecil remained silent, his head propped sideways on his hand. Seeing that he had quietly fallen asleep, Tristan discreetly rose from the sofa and approached him.

“Mr. Cecil, Mr. Cecil?”

When Cecil didn’t wake up even after his name was called again, Tristan gently shook his shoulder. The hand that had been precariously propping him up dropped, and Cecil’s head tilted to the side.

Whoops. Tristan let out a small gasp and caught Cecil’s head.

It was a face small enough to be held in just one hand. On top of that, his skin and hair were so fine that Tristan didn’t know what to do with the sensation on his palm and only darted his eyes around.

‘Wow, are all royals like this?’

Having never experienced it, there was no way for him to know. After holding his face for a long while, Tristan once again reminded himself of Cecil’s precious status and carefully returned his head to its original position.

Now, only a difficult choice remained.

Tristan placed his hands on his hips and let out a helpless sigh. He seemed to have come alone without a servant; how was he supposed to escort a drunken man all the way to the imperial palace? He himself had drunk a little more than his usual limit, so his thoughts weren’t coming easily.

It seemed he would have to ask Count Alfonso for a guest room.

He was in the middle of his thoughts when, as if he had made a decision, he was about to reach his arms toward Cecil. Just before Tristan’s hands could slip under Cecil’s armpits, a low voice stopped his actions.

“Do you dare lay a hand on the body of a royal family member?”

Startled, Tristan shot to his feet. When he turned toward the voice, he saw a man a head taller than him looking down with a gaze that bordered on contempt.

“It’s a misunderstanding! I harbor no strange intentions, I was merely trying to help him up since he is drunk…”

“Why are you the one trying to do that?”

Tristan was at a loss for words at the sharp question. Did I make a mistake just now? No, I only did what was proper.

After organizing his thoughts, Tristan’s eyes shone with defiance instead.

“And who might you be, sir, to interfere?”

“Interfere.”

The man smirked and swept his hair back. The wig was pushed back by his large palm, revealing platinum blond hair as bright as the sun.

Alexis carelessly tossed the wig aside.

“I am someone who has every right to do so.”