Far above them all, on the castle’s highest tower, Raymond leaned against the cold stone parapet.
His blue eyes reflected the tiny flickering torches that lit the castle grounds far below.
In his gloved hand lay a letter, sealed with the sigil of the Grand Order. It had arrived from Faymere just before dusk.
With the way His Grace had carried Xion away, Ray decided against disturbing them.
Though he wished to tell the good news to the Archduke himself.
Lady Rubina Claude had not disappointed them.
According to the letter, she had succeeded in diverting the king’s attention by simply laying claim to everything their lord, Xion, had left behind.
Both parties, the crown’s men and the Grand Order, had nearly come to a clash.
Rubina’s argument was disarmingly simple: she was merely retrieving her master’s belongings, as was her duty.
No one, not even the crown, had the right to take what now belonged to the Grand Order.
Under ordinary circumstances, such words would have been laughable.
Status and power, no matter how lofty they were, ultimately all bowed before the crown.
But the Archduke was no ordinary man.
And his newly wedded husband, Xion Vaelis—the so-called dirty-blooded bastard—had earned a name for himself that even the king could not ignore.
Pope was looking for him. The thirteen elders felt threatened, and Faymere adored him.
For once, the villagers had openly defied the royal army. They had started protesting as one when the soldiers came to seize Xion’s relics.
Hand-scribbled notes on diseases and their treatment were far more precious than Xion had ever imagined them to be.
So much that it had given them a new way of living. The people who came to seek them had increased, almost doubling the income of the villagers.
However, they had driven their lord away. Why? Because they were blinded by greed and fear.
But they would not stand by and watch his legacy stolen from them as well. The old head stood at the front as he refused to let the royal guards enter the healing house.
When the king’s guards raised their blades, ready to cut the people down, the Grand Order intervened.
Their timely arrival had spared the villagers from being slaughtered like pigs.
In the end, the townsfolk had sided unanimously with the Grand Order.
It was much better to return the belongings to their rightful master than to surrender them to royals who neither cared for their lives nor their deaths.
Despite the precise words, Raymond could picture it vividly.
Just as Silas charged into the village with his sword ready to lash out at the ’rebellious’ people, he was stopped cold in his tracks.
Not by force, but by the sight of Rubina herself.
And Silas—fool that he was—had been struck dumb by her face.
Instead of ordering the slaughter, he had waved his men off.
Raymond chuckled under his breath.
It wasn’t just that. The lovesick king had even ordered a feast prepared in honor of the Grand Order.
Rubina left him with nothing more than a cold back.
The Grand Order had left Faymere at dawn and would reach the northern borders in two weeks.
They must be long gone before Silas finally realized that there was no one to eat his carefully prepared feast.
Raymond could already imagine the sour look on the king’s face.
Was this move meant to provoke Silas?
Perhaps, yes.
However, knowing His Grace’s temperament, he was not a man to bother with petty antics.
If Raymond’s guess was right, this was a message. The woman you desire is far better off without you. And she does not stand alone.
It was a blatant provocation.
Given the suspicious nature of the royal ministers, it would have been difficult for the king to justify accepting the Archduke’s invitation to the upcoming hunt.
But now... Raymond doubted Silas would be able to sit still.
The hunting grounds would run red with blood. And would that not be a beautiful sight?
Raymond’s lips curved into a smile at the thought—at the image of those who’d once tried their best to brand his family as traitors falling one by one in that cold northern forest.
A rush of thrill filled his chest.
But before he could savor it, a voice echoed in the otherwise silent night.
"For a brute of a knight, your smile looks far more precious than it should."
Raymond blinked. That voice alone was enough to drag the corners of his mouth back into a hard, flat line.
He turned around, and sure enough, the charming prince was standing there.
Dressed in a loose white robe with a heavy coat casually draped over his broad shoulders, he looked the very picture of temptation.
Golden hair shone brighter than the sun, almost dazing Ray’s eyes. Almost.
"Your Highness," Ray bowed in respect. Though how much of that respect actually came from his heart, now that was debatable.
"Don’t be so formal." Nikolai waved his hand before walking forward.
"Ain’t that obvious? You marry me, and that would give the Pope something to prepare. Then he wouldn’t have any time to think about your divine healer."
Ray’s breath shuddered in his throat. Did Nikolai know something?
When he turned to look, he bumped into those golden eyes filled with a smile.
It was far too hard to read this person.
"I have no plans of marrying anyone, Your Highness."
Nikolai clicked his tongue. "You are no fun. Even that alchemist had better responses than you."
Now that had Ray narrow his eyes. It seemed that this royal guest was feeling too much at home in the north. He had even started to flirt with Allen.
The thought stirred a nameless anger in his chest, and the knight commander forgot all about the customs and regulations.
"Why are you always flirting with everyone?" Ray blurted out. "Are you insane?"
Nikolai grinned like a fox. "That may be. But you know I’m still curious about your sex life. Are you still virgin?"
Ray had to take a deep breath to control his temper. This was the prince and possibly the future ruler. No matter how lunatic he was, Ray had to bear it.
"You should rest, Your Highness. Northern winds have the tendency to devour new lives."
"See? Even the wind wants me, and you don’t. It’s strange."
Nikolai’s gaze shamelessly traveled down to Ray’s crotch. "Are you sure you don’t have something wrong with your body?"
Ray exhaled slowly. This man was impossible. And those golden eyes held not even a flicker of genuine affection.
Hell, Allen’s blank stone face had shown him more.
The thought stopped him cold.
Allen.
His mind conjured that calm, expressionless face. Slowly, a shadowy figure in his mind filled in, flesh over bone.
All of it solidified into a figure of Allen.
Ray’s blue eyes went wide. "Oh, fuck me," he muttered under his breath.
Nikolai’s brows rose. The prince was half amused, half curious.
"Oh?" he drawled. "Well. I’m ready whenever you are. I do like it when my partners have some muscle. They tend to last longer."
Ray turned his face away, groaning into his hand.
What was jumping off a cliff and getting stuck in a tree halfway down?
This was!
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