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Chapter 5
“I’ll bet five hundred gold.”
“Five hundred? That’s small change, Baron Juvian. If you’re an Alpha, you should bet at least five thousand!”
The man called Baron Juvian shot up from his chair. He had a gaunt face and short, greasy hair that clung to his scalp. Veins bulged in his neck as he shouted.
“Caron Chevinel getting married?! You expect me to bet money on such nonsense? I may enjoy gambling, but at least make it something believable!”
“I’m telling you, it’s solid information! If you don’t believe it, then stay out of it!”
Viscount Row, sitting across from him, pointed a finger sharply as he hissed back. Ironically, despite his outburst, he kept his voice low and glanced around nervously, afraid someone might overhear.
“Ha! Caron Chevinel getting married? The playboy who makes every Omega in the Empire cry? Married?”
“Keep your voice down! This isn’t even in the Atreille Daily yet. It’s an exclusive imperial scoop!”
“An exclusive? Since when is one Alpha’s marriage gossip imperial news?”
Juvian grabbed a bottle from the table and gulped down liquor.
At that moment, the club’s entrance door clicked open.
A man stepped in, a black uniform jacket slung over his shoulders. His red hair, damp and covering the back of his neck, stood out clearly even under the dim lighting.
The commotion died instantly.
Everyone who had been watching Baron Juvian turned their heads toward the newcomer.
Viscount Row spotted the red-haired man crossing the club and went pale.
“Baron, sit down. Now!”
“You think I don’t know you’re trying to trick me out of my money? This is why you can’t associate with gambling addicts!”
“Baron Juvian!”
“That bastard Caron Chevinel getting married? I swear on my own hand, he never will! He’s touched every Omega in the Empire!”
“Juvian!”
Row tried to clamp a hand over Juvian’s mouth, but he was too late.
The red-haired man had already come up behind him. The light above the table illuminated his face.
Water dripped from his mane-like hair. His golden eyes gleamed like a predator’s. Droplets clung to his sharp nose and marble-smooth skin. He radiated a dangerous, almost decadent aura.
The corners of his lips lifted slowly.
Juvian still hadn’t noticed the tall figure standing behind him.
“That bastard,” Juvian continued loudly, “is a disgrace to Alphas! A disgrace to House Chevinel!”
“A disgrace? Who is?”
The quiet voice came from behind him.
Juvian turned, flushed and indignant—
“Caron Chevinel, that—”
He froze.
The man standing before him was Caron Chevinel himself.
Caron smiled crookedly and placed a hand on Juvian’s shoulder. His grip was so strong it felt as if the shoulder might crumple like dough.
Juvian began hiccupping in shock.
“Caron Chevinel is a disgrace to Alphas? A disgrace to the Empire?”
“N-no! I—!”
Caron narrowed his eyes like a beast stalking prey. Juvian’s face drained of color. The pressure on his shoulder alone was terrifying, even though Caron wasn’t actually squeezing.
“Say that again, Baron. Who’s the disgrace?”
“I—I—hic—”
Caron’s smile widened. It was dazzling, breathtaking even—but twisted underneath, sharp and mocking.
Juvian shrank back like a turtle retreating into its shell. Viscount Row hurriedly swept the chips, cards, and coins off the table.
“Haha, you’ve arrived! It’s been a while since we’ve seen you in the capital!”
“After rotting in the southern heat, I return to the bright capital only to hear a Chihuahua yapping about me. My life truly is tragic.”
Caron wrinkled his nose at Juvian’s greasy hair and briefly covered it, then smirked.
“Instead of barking behind my back, why not try saying it to my face? I’ll consider ‘disgrace to Alphas’ an honor.”
Juvian couldn’t speak. His lips trembled.
“S-Sir Chevinel, that’s not what I meant—”
“Go on. Speak up.”
“It’s hot today. I—I should be going!”
Viscount Row grabbed his things and fled. Juvian shoved past Caron and hurried after him. Caron didn’t even bother stopping him.
He shook his hands as if brushing off dirt.
“Caron, you made quite an entrance for someone who just returned from the southern front.”
From a nearby table by the window, Raypoldt—who always wore a monocle more for show than necessity—grinned.
Caron pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his hands, and approached the table. Several well-dressed noble sons greeted him enthusiastically.
“Juvian’s been drowning in alcohol for three days because you had a scandal with the Omega he liked.”
Caron sat down, lit a cigar, and frowned.
An Omega he liked?
He had just returned from the southern front yesterday. There hadn’t been time for any scandal. He had gone to the palace at dawn, left in the afternoon, washed up, and come here for a drink.
Seeing his confusion, Karden laughed.
“You know—Lady Jibella. The one with wheat-colored hair. She’s been spreading rumors that she spent passionate nights with you.”
“Why drag me into that when I was rotting at war?”
Caron lit his cigar, incredulous.
Karden smirked.
“She’s trying to land herself a fortune using your name. Omegas lose their minds from your pheromones after just one encounter. And every Omega who’s been linked to you ends up marrying into wealth. Your name’s become even more famous. She’s probably hoping to meet you.”
Caron snorted.
He had no idea which of the Omegas he’d met had married wealthy men. There had been too many.
Still, Omegas usually married well anyway.
“Tell her not to waste her dreams. I’m too tired to breathe right now.”
Raypoldt clipped the end of his cigar and added,
“Even if you tell her, it won’t solve it. Omegas across the Empire are desperate to meet you right now.”
Caron exhaled smoke slowly.
Yes, he knew he was popular. Handsome face. Good physique. Like a prized stallion—well, never mind that.
He knew very well he was the kind of Alpha everyone wanted to sleep with at least once.
But why now?
“Because a rumor’s spread across the Empire about you.”
Caron raised an eyebrow.
“What rumor?”
Karden stared at him.
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“They say you’re getting married.”
What ridiculous nonsense is that?
Caron’s face twisted instantly.
