MTEF 30

Chapter 30

Having regained his composure in the briefest moment, Ronin spoke once more with renewed resolve.

“I truly didn’t mean that. I apologize for speaking in a way that led you to misunderstand me, Sir Leofric.”

At those words, Callion’s expression darkened even further.

“You just want us to sleep together? Even if we’re an Alpha and a Beta, you expect me to believe that a married couple would simply sleep in the same bed?”

It was a request that naturally invited suspicion.

If Ronin had meant what Callion had initially assumed—that they should fulfill their “marital duty”—he could at least understand it. The imperial family and the Alistairs seemed eager for an heir.

Callion recalled what had happened before he departed on the subjugation campaign.

“I-I was trying to serve my husband. W-we’re married, and, cough! T-that means we should spend the night together… haa… cough!”

After fulfilling our marital duty, he’ll surely try to cross the line somehow. Since a Beta can’t bear children, will he try to bring in another child instead?

The thought disgusted him just as much as being treated like breeding stock.

Come to think of it…

Ronin Alistair had cleverly avoided their wedding night.

Although it hadn’t been intentional, Callion had never actually spent that first night with Ronin Alistair.

Yet Ronin Alistair had somehow produced convincing evidence that they had.

He’s not someone I can let my guard down around.

His innocent-looking face and the kindness he had shown the servants could no longer be accepted at face value.

As if he shared that awareness himself, Ronin spoke again.

“I know it sounds strange. But… I truly don’t want anything beyond that.”

I should refuse.

Callion couldn’t trust a single word Ronin said.

Now that he knew what Ronin wanted, he needed to focus on discovering why he wanted it. As for the money Ronin had spent, he could repay it another way…

Thinking that, Callion’s gaze drifted toward Ronin.

More precisely, toward his deathly pale face.

“…I’m sorry. It really is a strange request, isn’t it?”

Ronin was pretending nothing was wrong, but something about him was clearly off.

Just minutes ago, he had been meeting Callion’s gaze without hesitation.

Now he couldn’t.

His face had turned as white as snow.

His body trembled uncontrollably.

Something was very wrong.

Barely holding himself together, Ronin finally met Callion’s eyes directly and immediately lowered his head.

Once lowered, it never came back up.

Callion Leofric was the greatest knight in the empire.

That meant the movements of ordinary people appeared painfully slow and detailed before his eyes.

Especially now, when his heightened senses had become almost beastlike.

“Ha… I’m… sorry…”

Ronin seemed determined not to show it, but even his breathing had become ragged.

In that brief instant, Callion reached his conclusion.

Crash!

“Ah!”

Without hesitation, Callion snatched Ronin Alistair’s teacup and hurled it into the fireplace.

The expensive porcelain cup shattered within the roaring flames, disappearing along with the tea it contained.

There was no need to determine what had been in the cup.

Perhaps the tea wasn’t the problem at all.

Because Ronin Alistair himself looks like this.

Callion looked down at him with cold eyes.

Ronin, who had barely maintained the appearance of composure until now, had collapsed from his chair onto the floor.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I was wrong… I was wrong!”

Curled up with both arms covering his head, he did nothing but apologize.

Apologies directed to no one.

Apologies for reasons even he seemed unable to name.

For a fleeting moment, Callion considered whether this was an act.

But the possibility was vanishingly small.

Then perhaps… this is a weakness.

A weakness the Alistairs have desperately hidden.

Having finished his calculations, Callion approached him.

Lost in the terror of his own making, Ronin didn’t even notice someone drawing near.

Step.

Step.

When only about three paces remained between them, Callion stopped.

I could exploit this weakness immediately…

But he decided against it.

For some reason, it left an unpleasant feeling in the corner of his heart.

Slowly—carefully enough not to startle someone so frightened—Callion extended one hand.

“Ronin Alistair. Pull yourself together.”

“Ah…”

Hearing the voice that carried only the faintest trace of warmth, Ronin slowly raised his head.

His eyes fell upon the hand stretched toward him.

Then upon its owner.

A flush of humiliation spread across his pale face.

Struggling to his feet without accepting the offered hand, Ronin spoke.

“I’m sorry, Sir Leofric… I don’t think I’m feeling very well… Yes… If you could just forget what happened…”

He staggered toward the drawing room’s exit.

Callion withdrew his outstretched hand without expression and spoke toward Ronin’s back.

“I’ll grant your request.”

Ronin froze.

Just as Callion had expected.

He didn’t turn around.

But Callion hadn’t expected him to.

Without the slightest disappointment, he continued,

“I’ll share a bed with you.”

“I mean exactly what you said.”

“We’ll simply sleep together.”

His firm words left no room for misunderstanding.

Ronin remained silent.

He neither rejoiced that his request had been accepted nor showed fear at having to share a bed with the person he feared.

He merely gave a silent nod.

After confirming that, Callion rose from his seat and left the room without another word.

Even after he was gone, Ronin remained standing there.

For a very long time.

After leaving Ronin’s room, Callion headed straight toward his next destination.

Knock. Knock.

“Come in.”

A servant moved to open the door, but Callion stopped him with a gesture.

No matter how well the room was soundproofed, it was better to be certain.

Only after confirming that the servant had left the corridor did Callion enter.

Galahad watched his godson’s cautious and prudent actions with quiet satisfaction.

At the same time, however, his chest felt unbearably heavy, as though weighed down by lead.

Trying to ease the suffocating feeling, Galahad reached for the wine bottle to refill his empty glass.

Tap.

Callion effortlessly stopped his hand and took the bottle away.

After letting out a quiet sigh, he hesitated briefly before silently pouring wine into Galahad’s glass.

The spirited gesture brought an involuntary smile to Galahad’s face.

Since the death of the previous Duke Leofric—Callion’s father—no one had treated Galahad like this.

Even Callion had always behaved with perfect respect.

Yet now, his godson silently emptied his own glass alongside him.

Galahad filled Callion’s glass in return.

There were no warm greetings.

No lectures about taking care of his health.

Yet both understood each other’s feelings perfectly.

If only this atmosphere could continue.

If only they could sit together, drinking and chatting idly.

How wonderful that would be.

But their enemies stood right before them.

With sharpened blades already pointed at their throats.

In the end, Galahad had no choice but to speak first.

“I heard you had tea with Ronin Alistair. What did you talk about?”

“Nothing important. I tried to figure out what he was really planning by transforming the castle like this, but I failed.”

Just as I thought.

His godson already knew what had been happening throughout the castle.

Not only that, he was trying to uncover Ronin Alistair’s true motives.

Suppressing the smile threatening to rise, Galahad replied,

“He won’t reveal his true intentions that easily. That youngster stood before me without the slightest sign of intimidation. He’s no easy opponent.”