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Chapter : 16
This time, I’ll change the male lead.
“We’ll arrive at the imperial palace soon.”
Aiden opened his mouth as he watched the scenery race by.
All the way back from the square, Hyperion hadn’t said a word. His expression was distant, lost in thought.
“My lord, there’s something I must tell you.”
“……”
Only then did Lion turn his gaze.
“Saint Phoebe wishes to see you.”
“Why?”
Bathed in sunlight, he looked unreal—like a holy image from myth.
“She claims she is in prayer.”
“Yes. However…”
When those bewitching red eyes turned toward him, Aiden hesitated.
“It seems she heard about Your Highness’s engagement.”
Lete Phoebe, Saint of Ignis.
The only light that stands next to the sun.
The agent sent by the gods and mistress of the moon…
And yet, ironically, a woman who chose a life not for God, but for Hyperion.
“Speak. What does my engagement have to do with the saint?”
“Well…”
Aiden felt cruelly aware of how cold the two hearts involved here were.
Lion may not realize it—but to Phoebe, Lion was everything.
“Until now, she has been Your Highness’s closest person.”
“Closest?”
His face was beyond cold—icy enough to forbid even the slightest trace of emotion.
This was Hyperion’s true face. Then what was that smile he showed the young lady?
“The saint has done everything for Ignis and for you. She is even praying now for His Majesty the Emperor, who lies unconscious.”
“……”
“You should at least acknowledge her devotion.”
With the clash between imperial and divine power at its peak, and the Emperor felled by madness, it would be Lion who suffered most if the saint turned against the throne.
“All she wants is your heart, my lord. If you could just show her a little kindness—”
“Tell Phoebe—”
Lion let out a short, dry laugh at Aiden’s emotional plea.
“Not to overstep her place.”
“……!”
“If she wanted that, she shouldn’t have stayed by my side.”
Though he was clearly smiling, the sight was terrifying.
“But, my lord—”
Aiden still had no answer.
Because all of this—her devotion, her love—was ultimately Phoebe’s choice. No one ever asked it of her. No one demanded it.
“Give someone an inch and they forget their place.”
“……”
“Isn’t that right, Aiden?”
A warning—aimed at both the saint and Aiden himself. Aiden felt it keenly.
“…Also, Your Highness.”
Struggling to smooth over his stiffening expression, he changed the subject.
“Why do you suppose Lord Babel did not guard himself against that unfamiliar woman—Lady Veritas?”
Lately, too many things were out of joint.
Lion, who once refused even the saint’s proposal, suddenly announcing an engagement.
And now Babel, who had never let anyone close…
Kaela Veritas.
That woman at the center of all this remained strangely overlooked.
Partly because her father, Duke Veritas, was neutral—and notoriously protective of her.
Compared to the powerful Duke Rutas family, who had produced chancellors and empresses, Lady Veritas could hardly stand out.
A suitable puppet, or so I thought.
Someone with enough political weight to counter the Temple faction—yet invisible enough not to be a threat.
Aiden believed that was the only reason his lord chose Kaela Veritas.
But—
—Huh? Babel!
—Kiiing.
Aiden’s eyes narrowed as he recalled.
Babel—pure vessel of Hyperion’s darkest power.
A being who obeyed only its master, moving only according to Lion’s instincts…
“Perhaps she simply appealed to Babel.”
“Cou—cough!”
At Lion’s offhand remark, Aiden choked.
“Appealed to Babel, my lord? You know better than anyone what that would imply.”
The two were practically one being—so if she appealed to Babel, it meant she appealed to Lion himself.
“Even the saint, who grew up beside you, never managed to tame him.”
Aiden waved a hand frantically.
“Haha, he must just be curious about a new human—nothing more.”
“Hm. Or perhaps…”
But Lion’s eyes grew more resolute than ever.
“She might be the one I’ve been waiting for.”
—Hyperion, even if everyone forgets me, you must remember.
—Will you marry me?
A very…
long-awaited person.
In the end, I had no choice but to climb into the carriage bound for the imperial palace.
They’d already sent word to Emma on my behalf, so I had no excuse to escape.
Why aren’t we leaving yet? Did something happen?
But the carriage sat still for a long time.
Even Babel, who had made sure I boarded, was nowhere to be seen.
“What took so long?”
“There was trouble in transporting the captured men to the army barracks.”
When I cracked the window, I overheard soldiers speaking.
“They pretended to surrender quietly and then detonated ammunition.”
The soldier clicked his tongue in disbelief. It seemed there had been an incident while rounding up Carl’s remaining followers.
“Tch. Like master, like men. Were you unarmed?”
“Thankfully, Lord Babel happened to be scouting nearby and took care of it.”
Scouting? Had I known, maybe I should’ve run away earlier.
“And their condition?”
“Not badly injured. Just unable to walk on their own.”
“Lucky devils. Getting caught by Lord Babel and coming out like that.”
But the conversation that followed killed any lingering hope of escape.
“So where’s Lord Babel now?”
“He went to report to the lord, should be back soon. Ah—and a shard grazed his cheek when the ammo exploded.”
“What?”
The senior officer’s face instantly went pale.
“Is His Highness unharmed? If Babel is injured, His Highness will feel pain as well.”
“Yes sir. It was minor, so His Highness seems unaffected.”
“Haah… good. That’s a relief.”
I blinked.
Babel was hurt—so why was no one worried about him?
“Oh! Lord Babel!”
“……”
So focused on the conversation, I didn’t realize the curtain had been swept aside.
A man with black hair and crimson eyes appeared in the suddenly bright carriage doorway.
“The lord is waiting.”
After making sure I was seated, Babel climbed onto the carriage.
“Move out.”
“Yes, sir!”
As the carriage jolted forward, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes.
He paid me—not even the slightest bit of attention.
Up close, he really does look like Leon’s twin.
Which meant I got an excellent view of that annoyingly perfect face.
Long, dense lashes. Smooth features that looked drawn by hand.
And…
That must sting.
A fresh cut on his pale cheek.
“You should at least wipe the blood off.”
“……”
He finally opened his eyes and looked at me.
“You’re injured.”
I offered a handkerchief, but his indifferent eyes didn’t so much as flicker.
“His Highness is unharmed.”
“No. You are.”
“……”
“I know His Highness is fine. I’m talking about you, Lord Babel.”
He frowned—ever so slightly—at the unexpected words.
“If you hold this, the bleeding will stop.”
“……!”
As I gently pressed the cloth to his cheek, his broad shoulders flinched.
“Keep holding it, okay?”
I added quickly, imagining he’d throw the handkerchief away the moment I let go.
“……”
But surprisingly, Babel held the cloth firmly and sat still.
“Yes. Just like that.”
A laugh slipped out—he looked unexpectedly cute for someone with such a cold first impression.
How strange.
Watching those red eyes dart around nervously—
For someone rumored to tear out enemies’ throats beside Hyperion…
He’s more like a cat pretending to be a wild beast.
No matter how I looked at him, that’s all I could see.
