🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 8
“Sit down first. Want a glass of wine?”
Despite Caron’s blazing glare, Razphel casually held out a wineglass. Ren promptly brought over a chair, and Caron dropped into it heavily.
“Why are you overreacting? Marriage isn’t so bad. You get a honeymoon. And it’s better than wandering around looking for someone to warm your bed every night.”
“I’ve never wandered. They come to me.”
“Ah, that’s right. The Empire’s official playboy. I almost forgot your reputation.”
“If you remember, then please tell my father again. I heard he already sent a proposal in your name.”
“The Duke does move fast. Did he say which family I recommended?”
Razphel asked lightly, unfazed by Caron’s irritation.
“I didn’t ask. I’m not doing it anyway.”
“Oh, you really are something.”
Razphel stifled a laugh at Caron’s blunt response. Then he leaned closer, placing a hand on Caron’s shoulder as if sharing a great secret.
“House Windsor.”
“…What?”
“Yes. That Windsor.”
Caron let out a hollow laugh.
House Windsor?
It was impossible not to know them. A grand northern noble house. A founding family of the Empire. Living history. A lineage born noble, overflowing with honor and pride.
Unlike House Chevinel, which had clawed its way upward backed by power. They wore the title of duke, yes—but had little in the way of traditional honor.
Caron was realistic enough to admit that.
Sending a proposal to Windsor?
They would refuse outright.
He had worried for nothing.
Razphel suppressed a smile at Caron’s expression.
“I can see exactly what you’re thinking. But from what I know, they cannot refuse.”
“…What do you mean?”
“The details are confidential to that family. You’ll hear them from your future spouse.”
“I said I’m not getting married.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to be tied down. I was trapped in the academy, dragged to war because of someone, and I’ve barely regained my freedom. And now marriage?”
Razphel rubbed his forehead, amused.
“I wish you’d change that mindset.”
“…Why?”
“Marry. And become so loved by that family that you can control them completely.”
Caron stared at him.
Since when did Razphel care about such things? And love? In noble marriages, love was rarely involved.
“Wow. I didn’t realize you were so naive. If that’s what you want, Your Highness, you should marry.”
“You’re always so impatient.”
Razphel grabbed Caron’s sleeve before he could storm out.
Then he lowered his voice.
“There’s a secret in that house. You know they were founding contributors to the Empire.”
“Everyone knows that.”
Razphel beckoned him closer.
Caron sighed and leaned in.
“In House Windsor lies a secret of the first Emperor.”
Caron frowned.
“That secret has been passed down in their family in absolute confidence. It can only be revealed to a true partner—someone who wins their heart.”
“…Did you find some fairy tale in the imperial archives?”
“No. I heard it from my father.”
“…What?”
The current Emperor was bedridden. Because of his illness, Empress Vistette held regency power and effectively controlled the Empire.
She was the Emperor’s second wife. Razphel was the son of the late Empress.
Though he was the First Prince, he had not been named Crown Prince. The Empress guarded her own three-year-old son’s claim fiercely.
Razphel smiled faintly.
“That secret may be the perfect weapon to remove the Empress from power.”
Caron fell silent.
A secret of the first Emperor? Hidden in House Windsor?
It sounded absurd.
“You believe that?”
“My father’s body is weak, not his mind.”
Caron hesitated.
Razphel’s tone turned firm.
“It’s there. Whatever that secret is, it could change everything. And I need your help.”
Caron pressed his lips together.
They had been closest friends since childhood. Outwardly, House Chevinel appeared loyal to the Empress—but the truth was more complicated.
“If I become Crown Prince, I’ll grant you a divorce.”
That would overturn the entire political structure of the Empire.
“And your house will become the center of the new imperial power. You gain freedom. Power. Honor.”
Razphel knew exactly how to tempt him.
Caron had always carried the faint burden of restoring his family’s reputation.
If he became Windsor’s “true partner,” Razphel would ascend. And Caron would gain everything.
Freedom. Power. Honor.
It was tempting.
“So I just need to become their true partner?”
“Yes. Make them love you completely.”
Caron considered it.
“Fine. Let’s try it.”
Making someone fall for him was easy.
A smile. A glance. A touch.
He had never truly loved anyone. Never wanted to possess someone or stay forever.
Love was a word that had never applied to him.
He smirked confidently.
“You think I’d fall in love?”
Razphel chuckled.
“The Empire’s Prodigal Son. The Living Fantasy.”
Caron crossed his legs casually.
“I’ll do it.”
Razphel wondered if it would truly be so easy—but he didn’t argue.
“Good. I trust you.”
And so, a pact was formed between Caron Chevinel and Prince Razphel.
But Caron had overlooked something.
The Windsor family’s Omega had already eloped.
Which meant—
He would have to marry an Alpha.
And more importantly—
The Alpha of House Windsor was not an ordinary Alpha who followed instinct.
