🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 9
2. The Truth Behind the Rumor
“Then go.”
Caron looked puzzled at Razphel’s words. The prince smiled mischievously.
“The esteemed heir of House Windsor has arrived at Countess Lusterien’s party.”
“…Oh. Who?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know.”
Caron frowned. The eldest of House Windsor… Southern and Northern nobles rarely mingled, and Caron had never bothered memorizing the names of noble heirs. Unless they were beautiful—or Omegas.
Razphel covered his mouth, clearly amused.
Caron rose.
“I’ll just see for myself.”
“Good. I’m counting on you.”
“Yes, yes. I’ll see you at the victory banquet.”
“Better yet, come with your fiancée.”
Only a proposal had been exchanged, yet Razphel was already calling the person his fiancée. He clearly believed Caron would go through with it.
Which, to be fair, he would.
Caron gave a brief bow and left the lounge.
As he entered the ballroom, he felt eyes turn toward him.
He casually picked up a drink from a passing tray.
“Chevinel…”
“He just returned from the southern front…”
“Did you hear what happened at Club Deverie?”
The whispers were loud enough to hear.
Caron ignored them and scanned the room for the Windsor heir.
He didn’t know the man’s face, but surely he’d recognize him.
Then—
The third terrace doors opened.
A tall man stepped inside.
Silver-blond hair shifted lightly. A sharp jawline caught the light. His head was slightly lowered, but when he lifted it, long lashes rose with his eyelids, revealing clear blue eyes like glass.
Though his formal attire made him appear slender, there was strength beneath it. His tailored clothes emphasized his narrow waist and long build.
Caron quietly admired the sight.
The man was unexpectedly his type.
He looked perfect for making cry.
Of course, nothing about him felt Omega-like.
Just then, another man with a flushed face rushed out after him. Caron recognized him—the second son of the Ardemond family, known for vulgar behavior.
Ardemond seemed ready to shout but stopped when he noticed the crowd watching.
Several nobles looked at him with barely concealed amusement.
Caron smirked.
He must have missed a good show.
The silver-haired man walked across the ballroom and stopped before Countess Lusterien.
Caron took a sip of champagne—and then froze.
Silver-blond hair. Cool eyes.
“Ah.”
A memory surfaced.
They had graduated from the academy together.
Even back then, he had been called the prince of the northern nobles—difficult to approach.
How could I forget that face?
Not close, but familiar.
His name—
Right.
Yuric Windsor.
Caron ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth.
The heir of House Windsor was… him?
***
“A rumor?” Yuric asked quietly.
Countess Lusterien beckoned him closer with a sly smile.
Yuric leaned in cautiously.
Was it about his parents and Sehil fleeing? Had someone talked?
His throat felt dry.
“House Chevinel… sent a proposal, didn’t they?”
His tension loosened at once.
So that was it.
Not good that the rumor had spread—but better than the alternative.
“How did you hear?” he asked softly.
“Oh my, so it’s true? From House Chevinel?”
“Please lower your voice.”
She snapped open her fan, eyes sparkling.
“A proposal from Chevinel! From Sir Caron himself?”
Yuric sighed inwardly.
He could feel nearby nobles straining to listen.
“Yes.”
“My goodness. They’ve always struggled with their reputation under the Empress, haven’t they? Perhaps they’re trying to restore their noble image. Windsor is certainly a worthy match. Though Chevinel hardly matches your house’s prestige, it’s not a bad alliance.”
“Countess…”
“It must be for your sibling, Sehil. He’s the only Omega in your family. Has Countess Natelin accepted?”
“Nothing has been decided.”
“Oh Yuri, when something like this happens, it’s practically decided already! Everyone’s heard.”
She was practically celebrating the union.
Yuric felt irritation rise.
Did she truly believe House Chevinel stood equal to Windsor simply because they were rich?
True, Chevinel’s wealth was immense.
But—
“Where is Sehil?” she continued brightly. “He didn’t come tonight? I should see him before he marries into Chevinel. Windsor may have prestige, but in terms of wealth… well. Sehil’s pride might soar too high. Have you hired a wedding planner? I know a wonderful salon.”
Yuric’s brow tightened sharply.
He was already drowning in debt.
Sehil had run away with the remaining assets.
And now she casually compared their wealth unfavorably.
It was true—but it stung.
Yuric spoke evenly.
“I intend to think carefully.”
“Sehil—what?”
“Money alone doesn’t guarantee a happy marriage. And that man has a reputation.”
“Oh, Yuri—”
She widened her eyes, trying to signal him to stop.
He ignored it.
“To give my sibling to someone who follows his instincts so freely… it feels wasteful. If he changes partners so often, perhaps it’s because he lacks skill.”
“Yuri…”
“Even they know money isn’t enough. That’s why they sent a proposal. But I must admit—it offends my pride. Did they think Windsor would accept gratefully? He didn’t even come himself.”
Countess Lusterien tried frantically to signal him.
Yuric drained his champagne.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.
His family’s fortune was gone.
Sehil had fled with the rest—for love.
An Omega, running away.
He wanted to drag him back and break his legs.
But he didn’t even have the money to search for him.
Sehil had taken that too.
