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Chapter Text

The thunder of gunshots and the clash of swords reverberated around the battlefield. The smell of rusted steel and blood mixed with the smoke of gunpowder. As the warriors battled valiantly for victory, the afternoon sun glinted off their armor.

 

Standing on a tall mound was Duke Hyunjin Hwang, dressed in black armor flecked with blood and dust. His eyes were as sharp as a hawk's, and the only weapon he had left was his treasured sword.

 

"Your Grace!” A soldier yelled, "They're running away, sir!" as the opposing forces dispersed wildly.

 

Hyunjin looked around the battlefield. While enemy corpses were scattered on the ground, he witnessed his soldiers rejoicing in victory. Some were still fighting for their lives.

 

They won.

 

Hyunjin swung his blade in the air. His soldiers gave a thunderous cheer.

 

"The Lancaster Army! Do not forget this day! In addition to protecting our territory, we have demonstrated to our adversaries who is really in control of winning!"

 

The applause grew louder. The sound of battle horns echoed around the field, while war drums beat in triumphant rhythm. Gunpowder smoke and the stench of blood now surrounded the formerly tranquil area. As muskets and swords crashed in ceaseless waves, the air was filled with the yells of soldiers on both sides.

 

Duke Hyunjin Hwang sat erect atop his horse amid the confusion. As his sharp eyes scanned the approaching enemy lines, his black military cloak fluttered in the breeze.

 

"The third front is about to fall apart, sir! The enemy has significantly increased their numbers beyond what we had anticipated!”

 

As the opposing cavalry charged ahead, a soldier yelled the news.

 

Hyunjin, his face unflinching, gripped his blade tighter. "If they come at us—we will crush them here!"

 

"Hold formation, forward lines! Cavalry, get ready to surround them.

 

Through the din of gunfire and death screams, his command was audible. His soldiers dutifully obeyed.

 

The Lancaster soldiers raised their shields to block the hail of bullets that were coming at them. The second rank aimed and fired back, killing one enemy fighter at a time. The enemy continued to strike.

 

Hyunjin pulled on his horse's reins. "Let's ride!"

 

He charged into battle, striking down his enemies with powerful hits. His sword moved like a storm and cut through the enemy lines. The battlefield was filled with the painful cries of the dying and the sound of metal hitting flesh.

 

He couldn't wipe off the blood that was all over his armor because time was running out.

 

"Your Grace! The enemy is fleeing!"

 

The voice of a soldier called behind him. Hyunjin's piercing brown eyes met the desperate fleeing enemy forces as he brought his horse to a stop. While several of his soldiers lay dead or injured on the ground, others pursued. That's the cost of war.

 

Raising his sword high, he slashed through the air.

 

"Victory is ours!"

 

Cheers broke out on the battlefield. The Lancaster flag was firmly rooted in the blood-stained ground.

 

On this battlefield, Duke Hyunjin Hwang had become legendary.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whispers and murmurs filled the palace's great hall. Crimson carpets and immaculate white marble columns filled the lavish throne room. The portraits of former monarchs were reflected in vibrant hues by the gentle sunlight that came through the stained-glass windows.

 

Hyunjin stood tall in the middle of the hall. Despite showing signs of war, his deep navy-blue uniform maintained its dignity.

 

King Henry IV, seated on the magnificent throne, looked down on the young duke with apparent pleasure.

 

In a firm voice, the king proclaimed, "Duke of Lancaster, you have shown your courage in the service of this kingdom beyond doubt." "It is only right that we give you a reward."

 

Hyunjin lowered his head and knelt. "Your Majesty has my undying loyalty."

 

"To strengthen the ties between our noble houses, we hereby decree that Duke Hyunjin Hwang will formally marry Lady Eleanor Lee, Duke Lee's second daughter."

 

A swell of whispers swept through the assembled nobility.

 

A political marriage?

 

Second only to the royal family itself, the House of Lee was one of the most influential aristocratic houses. An unbreakable bond would be formed if their families came together.

 

However, the issue was—

 

Lady Eleanor was someone he had never met. Furthermore, he had no ambition for a political and power-driven marriage.

 

Hyunjin hesitated only a second before lowering his head once more. "I will follow Your Majesty's decreed."

 

King Henry IV gave a small smile. "All right. The wedding is scheduled for two weeks from now.”

 

Hyunjin's expression was unreadable as he stood up straight. However, he harbored deep-seated doubts and worries about this coerced union.

 

He wasn't aware.

 

The fact that the real Lady Eleanor would not be attending the wedding was unknown to him.

 

 

 

 

The journey back to Lancaster was solemn. Hyunjin rode at the front of his company, his posture rigid, his mind weighed down by the king’s decree. The rhythmic clatter of hooves against the cobblestone roads barely registered in his ears. Two weeks. In two weeks, he was to wed Lady Eleanor Lee—a woman he had never met.

 

As the sun began its descent, the grand estate of Hwang came into view. The towering spires and pristine white stone walls of his ancestral home stood against the crimson-streaked sky. His soldiers broke into cheers at the sight of home, but Hyunjin remained silent, gripping the reins of his horse a little tighter.

 

The gates swung open at their arrival, and the Hwang staff rushed forward. Stablehands took the horses, while footmen bowed and opened the doors to the manor. The scent of burning wood and freshly baked bread greeted them. The warmth of home.

 

“Your Grace,” his steward, Hoon Kim, stepped forward, bowing deeply. “Welcome back.”

 

Hyunjin dismounted with ease, giving the older man a nod. “Has my mother been informed of my arrival?”

 

“Yes, Your Grace. The Duchess Hyejin is expecting you in the drawing room.”

 

Hyunjin exhaled, brushing off the dust from his cloak before stepping inside.

 

 

 

The drawing room was bathed in golden candlelight, illuminating the elegant furnishings and paintings of Hwang ancestors that lined the walls. Sitting gracefully on a velvet settee was Duchess Hyejin Hwang, his mother. She looked up from her embroidery, her sharp blue eyes taking in her son’s worn features.

 

“You look tired,” she remarked, setting the hoop aside.

 

Hyunjin let out a dry chuckle, sinking into the chair across from her. “War does that to a man.”

 

She studied him for a moment before sighing. “And I assume the summons to court did not bring good news?”

 

Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair. “The king has decreed that I am to wed Lady Eleanor Lee. The wedding is set for two weeks from now.”

 

His mother’s expression did not shift, but he knew her well enough to recognize the slight tightening of her fingers against the fabric of her gown.

 

“I see,” she murmured. “The Lees are an influential house. Such an alliance would serve the crown well.”

 

“The crown, yes.” Hyunjin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But what of me?”

 

Hyejin was silent for a moment before she spoke, her voice softer this time. “Do you wish to refuse?”

 

Hyunjin let out a bitter laugh. “And risk my head? No. I have accepted my fate.”

 

His mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Then at least ensure that this fate is one you can live with, my son.”

 

Hyunjin leaned back in his chair, staring into the flickering fire. He wished he could find solace in her words, but an uneasy feeling settled deep in his chest.

 

Something about this marriage did not sit right with him.

 

 

Chapter Text

The sound of music and laughter echoed from the grand ballroom of the Han Manor. A magnificent crystal chandelier cast its golden glow overhead as young nobles clinked their wine glasses, engaged in lively conversation. Tonight, there were no politics, no alliances, and no wars—only friends reunited once more.

"At last, you've returned!" Han Jisung’s voice rang out as he clapped Hyunjin firmly on the shoulder.

"I thought you'd spend the rest of your life on the battlefield and forget the way back to the capital," he teased.

Hyunjin smiled and shook his head. "If I hadn't returned, you would have been too heartbroken to enjoy yourself, wouldn’t you?"

"Absolutely!" Jisung  laughed, handing him a glass of wine. "A toast to the Duke of Lancaster—the warrior who triumphed over his enemies and is soon to be a groom in two weeks!"

Hyunjin hesitated for a fraction of a second before accepting the glass. A chorus of cheers erupted from the gathered nobles and fellow soldiers.

"And what do you think of this upcoming marriage?" Changbin, an old comrade from the battlefield, asked. His expression was unreadable. Hyunjin merely swirled the wine in his glass, deep in thought, before replying in a level tone.

"I have no choice—it is a royal decree."

Jisung  sighed. "How dull! I can only hope you find some fondness for your bride-to-be."

Hyunjin let out a soft chuckle. "I have yet to even see her face."

Laughter erupted around the table. They continued drinking, reminiscing about their time on the battlefield and their shared childhood memories. War had taken much from them, but tonight, they were simply comrades once more.

"Tonight, there is no war, no lands to defend—only wine and friendship," Jisung  declared, raising his glass. The crystal clinked in unison as they toasted. Hyunjin gazed at the men before him—brothers in arms, survivors not by fate but by the unbreakable bond they had forged in battle.

"To our victory," he proclaimed.

"To victory!" the others echoed.

The night continued with revelry and flowing wine, but as the dawn approached, so did the weight of his obligations. Having received the royal decree to marry Lady Eleanor, Hyunjin knew his life was about to change forever. Yet, for one final evening—before everything shifted—he allowed himself to indulge in the fleeting joy of celebration.

As time passed, however, a quiet unease settled within him. Despite the laughter and conversation, he felt as though he were drowning amidst the merriment.

Placing his glass down, he silently rose from the table and stepped out onto the balcony.

The night wind was crisp, its cool touch bringing a rare moment of tranquility. Hyunjin leaned against the balustrade, gazing upon the vast garden bathed in moonlight. This was a night of triumph, a night where he should have been elated. Yet, in his heart, there was only an inexplicable emptiness.

A soft footstep sounded behind him. Changbin approached, halting beside him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is it because of your impending marriage?"

Hyunjin rolled his eyes slightly but did not deny it.

A brief silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the distant chirping of crickets. The pale glow of the moon cast silver streaks over the gently swaying grass. The wind whispered through the towering oaks, rustling the leaves like a murmured secret. The scent of daffodils drifted faintly, mingling with the lingering aroma of wine. From the ballroom, muffled music and laughter filtered through the open doors, a stark contrast to the quietude of the balcony.

Hyunjin remained silent, letting the breeze tousle the dark strands of hair that had come loose from his meticulously tied locks. His eyes lingered on the silhouette of an ancient oak in the distance.

"That’s part of it," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking more to himself than to Changbin. "Marrying someone I’ve never met... It’s like stepping into a dark room, not knowing what lies within."

Changbin exhaled quietly, his cloak rippling slightly with the wind. "I understand... It’s not something a battle-hardened soldier like you is used to—having your fate dictated by matters such as this." He paused, then continued in a softer tone. "But you know as well as I do—it is duty. And you have never abandoned your duty."

Hyunjin nodded slowly. "Yes... Duty." The word resonated within him, the very principle that had guided him through war. A king’s command was absolute, but this time, it carried a burden unlike any before.

"And what of the rest?" Changbin pressed, steering the conversation away. "Is this victory not what you always longed for? To secure Lancaster’s safety?"

Hyunjin lifted his gaze to the moon above, its silver glow reflecting in his dark eyes. He seemed to be searching for something beyond reach.

"It is what I wanted... for my people, for my land," he murmured, swallowing hard. "But sometimes... I wonder if these victories are truly worth the price we pay."

The wind picked up slightly, making the sheer curtains at the doorway billow. The laughter and clinking glasses within the hall continued, yet here, on the balcony, only silence remained between them.

"For tonight, let it go, Hyunjin," Changbin said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "At least for this night, we are simply comrades—no politics, no war... just you, and your friends."

Hyunjin turned to look at him, the sorrow in his gaze dimming just slightly. He nodded, a small, grateful smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, Changbin."

The wind carried their thoughts away, as the two stood side by side, looking out into the unknown. The celebration continued inside, but for the Duke of Lancaster, this night became a moment of quiet reflection before he stepped into the next chapter of his life—one he had yet to understand.

 

 

 

 

The clinking of silverware echoed through the grand dining hall of Lee Manor. The crystal chandelier above cast a warm glow, yet it could not dispel the cold tension that loomed over the dining table. A lavish meal was laid out, the aroma of warm soup filling the air, but the atmosphere remained heavy, as though the air itself was stretched tight, ready to snap at any moment.

Eleanor sat rigidly, her delicate frame unmoving like a marble statue. Her striking eyes were fixed on her plate, as though staring into an unchangeable fate. Her slender fingers gripped her fork so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Felix glanced at his sister briefly before shifting his gaze toward the man who held the highest authority at the table—the Duke of Lee, their father.

"I assume the news has reached both of you," the Duke stated, his tone calm yet absolute as he set his spoon down with deliberate precision.

Eleanor pressed her lips together tightly, swallowing back her unease. Felix leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his relaxed posture contrasting with the cold edge in his gaze.

"You mean the royal decree that commands Eleanor to marry the Duke of Lancaster?" Felix asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Yes," the Duke affirmed curtly.

Eleanor's mother sighed, worried lining her features. "I understand this may be overwhelming for you, my dear," she said gently, placing a comforting hand over Eleanor’s. "But you must see that this marriage is for your future."

Eleanor blinked slowly before speaking in a near whisper. "For my future... or for the family’s?"

Silence fell instantly. Felix smirked—a cold, humorless smile.

"I must agree with Eleanor. Surely, Father, you don’t expect us to believe this marriage is about love?"

The Duke of Lee frowned slightly, his displeasure evident. "Love is meaningless compared to stability, Felix. You should understand that."

"But does Eleanor understand it?" Felix countered, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Eleanor remained still, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, ready to spill at any moment. Yet, her lips stayed firmly shut, refusing to utter a word.

The Duke let out a weary sigh. "This marriage… is not something that can be refused."

Felix let out a dry chuckle. "And why is it that you never thought to ask Eleanor’s opinion?"

"This is not a matter of opinion, Felix," the Duke stated firmly. "It is a duty."

Eleanor’s lips pressed into a thin line. The Duchess of Lee stroked her daughter's back gently, as if to comfort her. "Eleanor… I know you may be afraid, but Duke Hyunjin is a man of honor. He will not bring you suffering."

Eleanor remained silent. And in that silence… lay her answer.

Felix put his spoon down on the table after giving his only sister a somber look. Everyone's attention was focused on him as the piercing clink against the plate reverberated throughout the room. With amber eyes clouded with suppressed frustration but devoid of words, his fists tightened so fiercely that his knuckles turned white. He inhaled deeply, pushing himself to repress the annoyance within, then pressed his lips into a thin line, letting silence be his answer.

Duke Lee spoke calmly yet mockingly. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his piercing eyes remained focused on his son. “It appears that you want to dispute with me. Go on, Felix, if you really think that talking will make me reconsider. I'm paying attention.”

"..."

The duke simply looked at Felix indifferently when he didn't speak, but there was a glimmer of annoyance beneath his calm façade. "Good… because there is no other choice."

 

"Do you really want to run away?" Felix asked in a calm tone.

Inside the private reception room of the Lee mansion, the light from an oil lamp illuminated the faces of the four conspirators—Felix, Eleanor, Martha, and Winton.

The atmosphere was tense. Eleanor sat still, her hands gripping the hem of her skirt tightly, her eyes filled with worry, while Felix sat with his legs crossed, tapping the table rhythmically.

Eleanor nodded, her face still filled with hesitation. "I can't bear to marry the Duke of Lancaster. I don't want my life to be dictated by anyone."

Felix briefly closed his eyes and then opened them again. "If you disappear without a trace, Father will stop at nothing to find you."

Winton nodded in agreement. "The Duke of Lancaster will surely suspect and try to find out why the lady disappeared so easily, my lord."

"You're right, Winton," Felix said, rubbing his temple. "And if Father finds out you actually 'ran away'... he will never allow himself to lose face, especially with the Duke."

Eleanor swallowed. "What do you mean, brother?"

Felix let out a bitter laugh before answering, "What I mean is that Father will order me to impersonate you while he sends people to search for you."

Eleanor's mouth dropped open. "But... but that's—!"

"Yes," Felix nodded. "Whether I like it or not, if I refuse, Father will find a way to force me, and if I don't play the part of 'Eleanor' well enough, both of us will be in trouble."

Eleanor froze. "I don't want you to take such a risk, Felix."

"We have no choice," Felix said calmly. "I know Father well. He won't let the Lee family’s reputation be tarnished. Even though I am a man, he will force me to be 'Eleanor' to maintain the family's dignity until he finds you."

Martha sighed softly. "So, you will have to impersonate Lady Eleanor all the time... until they find her, my lord?"

Felix nodded. "Yes, and that means I will have to get directly involved with the Duke of Lancaster and cannot avoid it."

Eleanor bit her lip. "I don't want it to be like this..."

"But you have no choice," Felix chuckled softly before replying.

Chapter Text

The mansion's tall windows let in the gentle morning sunlight, which illuminated the ornate oak furnishings and plush carpet in a golden hue. The servants' steady footfall filled the room as they worked diligently to get the clothes ready for the ceremony.

Hyunjin let the butler dress him quietly as he stood in front of a large brass mirror. Over his immaculate white shirt was a deep navy-blue wedding coat embroidered with gold thread. A silver brooch, engraved with the insignia of House Lancaster—two lions standing back-to-back with their claws intertwined around a crimson rose—adorned his high collar.

His dark brown eyes were shining with silent intensity as he looked at his own image in the mirror. His face was impassive, but his thoughts were jumbled with inquiries.

Eleanor Lee… What sort of woman is she?

His future fiancée was someone he had never met. He was clueless about her personality, was she kind or arrogant? Naïve or smart? He had received a letter from the Duke of Lee with lovely phrases praising his daughter and calling her a unique gem, but Hyunjin did not trust such pretentious language. He was fully aware that the purpose of these compliments was to make sure this marriage went well.

“I will secure the knot for you, Your Grace,” his faithful butler Hoon murmured, fiddling with his collar folds.

Hyunjin hardly acknowledged the gesture, but he nodded curtly. As he looked down, he noticed the golden band around his finger. Under the morning light, the elaborate engraving of crowned lions standing across from one another, holding a rose between their fangs, shone—a clear representation of House Lancaster.

This marriage is nothing more than politics. Nothing more, nothing less.

He was fully aware that this union was not based on love but rather on a calculated pact between the families of Lee and Lancaster, one intended to fortify political relations and ensure reciprocal advantages. And yet… was he truly meant to spend a lifetime with a stranger?

The chamber reverberated with the sound of approaching footsteps before the elegant figure of a noblewoman emerged from the mirror. She was dressed in deep navy velvet, her dark hair in a sophisticated updo and streaked with silver, a look suited for the Duchess of Lancaster.

"My son..." she murmured softly, reaching out to place a gentle hand on Hyunjin’s arm. Her light brown eyes reflected the solemn gaze of her only child.

"Mother," Hyunjin said in a steady voice.

After silently examining him for a while, she took a tiny golden chain out of a velvet box. A pure gold pendant with an engraving of a lion clutching a crimson rose in its fangs, like the Lancaster signet ring's design, was a family heirloom that had been handed down through the generations.

But when the old pendant was turned over, its back showed a surface that had been worn down by time, as though it were whispering stories from the past. Moreover, a highly esteemed name was carved with great care at its very center: "Her Grace The Duchess of Lancaster." Every word curved with a sense of refinement and dignity, as if it were inscribed with care and reverence—a quiet testimonial to the beloved who had worn it decades before.

"This is the necklace that our ancestors have always passed down to their spouses," the Duchess remarked, patting the elaborate pendant with her fingertips. "And today… you shall be the one to present it to your wife."

Hyunjin looked silently at the necklace, without even attempting to take it in his hands.

"You know what lies ahead," she said in a murmur that broke the silence in the room. She used a tone that was a careful mix of firmness and kindness, an implicit caution that was impossible to overlook.

She went on, "No matter what you may think of this marriage… never forget that you are the Duke of Lancaster," with an unreadable depth. Even as uncertainty weighed heavily on his heart and he stood on the brink of a destiny he was not yet prepared to face, her remarks served as a sobering reminder of the obligations and title he held.

With a faint, scarcely perceptible sigh, Hyunjin let out his breath and then reached out to grab the necklace. The cool metal weight against his palm was a silent burden, a physical representation of the path that lay ahead.

"I understand, Mother."

After spending a considerable amount of time studying her son, the Duchess put a gentle hand on his arm one final time before taking a step back.

Hoon said, "The carriage is ready, Your Grace," and bowed respectfully.

Hyunjin slipped the signet ring into place one final time, adjusted his cloak, and then strode toward his destiny—the ceremony that had already been predetermined for him. He would give this necklace to the woman who would become his wife in a matter of hours.

 

Lee Manor, on the other hand, was in ruins. Duke Henry of Lee's rage reverberated across the enormous hall, causing the walls of the estate to tremble. His wife, the Duchess of Lee, sat still and pale, her hands gripping a handkerchief that had been used to dab at tears but was now stuck between her feeble fingers—wrung taut with dread and terror.

"Where is she!?" Duke Lee roared, his anger igniting in the stillness like a blowing hurricane. Suffocating tension hung heavy in the room.

Their lone daughter, Eleanor, had vanished into the night.

Sitting in the shadows, Felix Lee observed his parents, his face unreadable. His keen eyes weighed the situation with careful calculation, and he said nothing as the domestic servants rushed around in desperate panic.

"She couldn't have gone far," Henry growled through clenched teeth, his voice full of rage, as if he were prepared to destroy the entire world. "Deploy a search crew and go through the whole city! Make sure to inspect every area.”

The Duke's order was like a decree of final judgment, ensuring the doom of everyone who dared to oppose him. The fact that his daughter was running away from her scheduled marriage was a recipe for disaster, and he would not for the name of Lee to be tarnished.

The Night Before the Wedding, Lady Eleanor's bedroom was completely black, with just the smoky glimmer of one candle creating shaky shadows on the walls. Like an omen, the waning light danced, whispering of the impending tragedy.

This would be the final evening she would spend inside Lee Manor.

Eleanor stepped in front of the mirror and looked at her image. Her heart thumped with terror, but underneath the panic was a burning determination. She was wearing a simple outfit that Martha had picked out with care; it was devoid of the adornments that signified her aristocratic rank, so she could blend in with the crowd without anyone noticing.

A whispered voice said, "We must haste, my lady" from the doorway.

Winton was standing there wearing a heavy-duty leather boot to conceal his footsteps and a dark cloak. He'd been given the responsibility of guiding her out of a marriage she'd never wanted.

Eleanor took a deep breath to regain her composure, then turned to her faithful handmaiden, Martha. Standing there with red-rimmed eyes, the young woman who had been her servant for years was hardly able to contain her tears.

"May God watch over you, my lady," Martha said in a terrified whisper. Her hands were clenched at her skirts as she curtsied low. "I wish I could go with you, but…"

"But you must stay." Eleanor extended her arm and firmly grasped Martha's hands. "I know. I understand”

After exchanging one last, lingering look, Eleanor made herself move away. Her heart was too hard to bear, but now she could not afford to hesitate.

Winton made sure the hallway was clear before quietly opening the door. But as soon as Eleanor crossed the threshold for the first time, a shadow appeared at the end of the corridor.

"You truly mean to run away?"

Eleanor's breath caught in her throat as she froze. The man in front of her was her older brother, Felix , who had the same sharp amber eyes as she did.

She muttered, "Brother…" in a shaky voice.

Felix looked at her from head to toe, seeing the simplicity of her clothing, which was a definite indication of her steadfast choice.

He stated, "I will ask you once more," in a composed but unintelligible voice. "Are you certain?"

Knowing that there would be no way out if Felix decided to stop her, Eleanor steadied herself.

"I am certain," she said firmly. "I cannot marry him."

Felix remained quiet for a while before turning to face Winton.

Calmly, "Take her away from here," he said. "And make sure no one finds both of you."

Winton looked directly into Felix's eyes, looking for any sign of dishonesty, and then bowed solemnly. "As you command, my lord."

"Hide well," Felix added, his voice growing piercing. "Until I'm able to dissolve this union. You may only come back after that.

Eleanor's gaze grew wide. "You would…?"

"I will buy you time," Felix said, his golden eyes brimming with unflinching resolve. "I will do whatever it takes to free you from this."

Eleanor was at a loss for words to adequately convey her appreciation. Rather, she moved forward, throwing her arms around him and clinging to him as if she was afraid he might disappear.

After a moment of hesitation, Felix slowly gave the hug back. He placed one hand lightly on her head and then planted a gentle kiss on her hair.

Eleanor said, "Thank you… brother," her voice full of sorrow.

Felix didn't respond. Instead of using words, he made a silent pledge and just briefly strengthened his grip.

Winton moved forward, bowing his head.

"My lord,..may you stay safe," he whispered.

Felix looked him in the eye and nodded slightly. "You as well."

Before Winton escorted her away, Eleanor gave Martha one final look. Felix was left standing by himself in the dark hallway as their silhouettes vanished into Lee Manor's darkness.

 

If all had gone according to plan, Eleanor had gotten away, but the real problem was only getting begun.

After a period of silence, the Duke of Lee turned to Felix. He had an intense sense of expectation in his eyes, which were full of seriousness.

"Felix," he said in a strong, dejected tone, "you must be 'Eleanor' in her place."

Felix was unsurprised. It was just what he had expected. He was fully aware that his father would never allow the family reputation to be tarnished by this matter.

"Are you certain that Father?" His eyes remained emotionless as he asked in a composed tone.

"We must preserve the family's honor," Henry said right away, his voice harsh and full of determination. "You will marry in Eleanor's place until we can find her."

The Duchess of Lee put her hand to her mouth as though to wipe away her tears, but she dared not defy her husband's order.

Felix let out a long sigh. His amber eyes glinted icily, as though nothing could halt the impending event.

"Then," he uttered softly, "Look like I have no choice."

Felix stood in Lee Manor's spacious dressing room, staring at his image in the huge mirror. He had the strange feeling that the person in the reflection wasn't really him.

His body was snugly encased in the exquisite ivory cloak. Each thread was a piece of art, meticulously woven into the exquisite cloth, which was embroidered with elaborate lace patterns. The fact that he was wearing Eleanor's bridal gown highlighted how frail his reflection looked. Like a gentle mist caressing his cheeks, the veil, composed of transparent, fine fabric, poured down from his head and swept over his shoulders and back.

Every strand of his golden hair was drawn tight and immaculately in a high, exquisite knot, and he wore a tiny diamond tiara that befitted his position. The jewels gleamed like stars in the chandelier's gentle light. He appeared to be trying to perfectly mimic Eleanor's appearance, with wisps of hair softly framing his face and adding a touch of frailty. His hair was gently curled at the ends, as if he were doing his best to resemble her.

Everything had been so well set up that it was almost hard to discern that the bride was not Eleanor under the bridal gown.

Above all, this bride was not a woman.

Felix gazed into the mirror at his face. Although the thought lacked emotion, beneath the silence was a chilly rage and bitterness that would never be expressed. His servant, Martha, tightened the corset around him in the meantime.

"Please endure, my lord," Martha said in a quiet murmur. Still, she was the only one who referred to him as "my lord."

"I am not a woman," Felix said, clenching his jaw and squeezing his mouth shut. He was already aware of his father's pride in the honor of his family. Though he never imagined Henry Lee would go this far, he had expected this to be one of the possibilities the Duke would select.

"This is madness."

"Regardless of what you think, you must do this."

From behind him came Henry's strong voice. Through the reflection in the mirror, Felix looked directly into his father's eyes. As though this was predestined rather than a coincidence, the weight of it fell on him like a hurricane, and he had no choice but to accept.

"Remember, you are Eleanor—until we find her."

Felix continued to stare at his mirror, the image of a guy compelled to assume a female role, without saying anything.

"And most importantly," Henry said, taking a step forward, "your voice."

Felix swallowed instinctively. This was the main problem.

His voice was too deep to be Eleanor's.

"Don’t speak," Henry firmly said. "No matter what, don’t speak more than necessary."

"Then how am I supposed to explain to the Duke?"

"You are ill," Henry stated right away. "Simply nod, smile, and behave like a lady of the Lee family."

Felix gave a sour sneer. "You mean act like a meek and gentle young woman, is that it?"

The Duke of Lee's eyes said louder than words could.

Felix averted his gaze; this whole situation was absurd.

The church reverberated with the sound of bells. There was an awkward tension throughout a wedding that ought to have been a day of joy.

There, at the entryway of the church, stood Felix.

In an attempt to conceal his hands' trembling, which was getting difficult to control, both hands firmly grasped the gown's hem. The sunshine shining through the stained-glass windows that narrated the saints' stories touched his golden eyes. Everything appeared to be too tranquil.

Everyone was unaware of the truth.

Henry Lee stood up next to him, his powerful hand firmly clutching Felix's arm, providing both support and firm direction at the same time.

Felix inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly.
"Are you ready?" Henry spoke in a low voice.

Felix chose to remain silent since he had no other option.

The gentle melody of the organ music weighed heavily on his heart as it started to play.

The church doors opened.

And without an actual bride, he entered the wedding ceremony—

For the Lee family, only a fictitious identity was made.

 

The Duke of Lancaster, Hyunjin , was standing at the altar, waiting.

His gaze remained focused on the church doors as they gradually opened. In the sunlight pouring through the windows, the ivory-dressed form of the bride emerged. Even though the ceremony went according to plan, Hyunjin couldn't get rid of the uneasy sensation he had in the middle of the holy setting.

His fiancé... didn't seem right.

He kept an eye on Eleanor Lee, the lady who would become his wife.

Although she maintained her elegant stance, the rigid, awkward gait was gone.

She walked too steadily for a woman wearing a corset.

And most significantly, she was silent.

It was out of the ordinary.

The Duke of Lancaster, however, continued to stand at the altar. Something triggered his senses, the hunter's instincts, as he looked around the church.

What was this?

Hyunjin stood motionless in quiet as 'Eleanor' came to a halt in front of him. For a moment, he glanced at his future bride. He couldn't help but be challenged by the stubbornness mirrored in the amber eyes. He noticed something—a secret buried deep within—in the woman's eyes at that brief instant. His eyes were full with unsolved questions, yet his expression stayed impassive.

Hyunjin stood alongside her, expressionless, as the ceremony began. As the bishop spoke the vows, the chamber was filled with the gentle tones of the organ, which matched Sebastian's own sentiments.

Hyunjin remained silent. While he kept observing Eleanor in silence, an endless number of questions flowed inside the Duke of Lancaster mind. He took note of everything he had seen, including Eleanor's expression. He felt something was wrong even though there was no outward signs.

He was recalling every strange occurrence of the day—every action—and it was only a matter of time before the secret hiding within was disclosed.

Chapter Text

After Felix and Hyunjin had completed their wedding ceremony, but before they could depart for Hwang Manor—their private residence, free from Hyunjin’s mother—the newlyweds stood side by side, receiving blessings from their parents.

Felix remained poised and composed, his hands delicately clasped in front of him, embodying the image of a demure and perfect bride. Henry Lee  placed a firm hand on his shoulder, pressing down for just a fleeting moment, as if to reinforce the weight of the role Felix now bore.

"You have fulfilled your duty" Henry declared with a resolute tone, his gaze unwavering as though determined to etch those words into Felix’s soul. "Do not forget—you must uphold the honor of House Lee "

Standing beside her husband, the Duchess of Lee  dabbed a lace handkerchief against the faint traces of tears on her cheeks. It was difficult to discern whether they were tears of joy or sorrow left unspoken. She reached out, taking Felix’s hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"My dear child, may you find happiness in your new life" she whispered softly, yet the pain reflected in her eyes starkly contradicted her words.

Felix merely inclined his head slightly, offering no response—just as he was expected to.

On the other side, Hyunjin faced his own mother, the Duchess Hyejin of Lancaster. Unlike Henry Lee , she did not speak of duty or obligations. Instead, she regarded her son with a piercing gaze before shifting her attention to the bride standing beside him.

Her lips curved into a smile—yet within that smile, something remained carefully concealed.

"Welcome to our family, Eleanor," she spoke, her voice gentle yet laced with an unreadable undertone. "May this marriage bring peace to both."

Felix offered a faint smile and lowered his head slightly in acknowledgment, yet he remained silent.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, stayed quiet—not because he was compelled to, like Felix, but because his mother was observant. He knew that beneath her composed demeanor, she was watching closely—and perhaps, she had already begun to suspect something.

With the final blessings exchanged, the time had come. A sleek black carriage awaited, prepared for their departure. At last, the newlyweds would journey to Hwang Manor—the place where they would be alone together for the first time.

Both families accompanied the couple toward the waiting carriage. However, Felix’s steps faltered.

His gaze fixed upon the sight before him—two carriages standing side by side beneath the midmorning sun.

Felix furrowed his brow slightly before turning to look at Hyunjin, the Duke of Lancaster standing beside him. The young duke’s sharp gaze remained as composed as ever, yet in the silence between them, Felix sensed something hidden beneath the surface.

"Why are there two?" Felix asked, his voice slightly higher than usual, though he kept it steady, masking the unease creeping into his mind.

Hyunjin merely gave a faint smile, a fleeting glint of mischief flickering in his dark eyes before he responded, his tone effortlessly smooth.

"I have some business to attend to in town," he said. "You should head to Hwang Manor first—I will join you shortly after."

Felix held his gaze, an inexplicable feeling whispering that this was no ordinary business. Yet, it was not his place to pry.

"Hoon, my personal butler, will see to your needs at the manor," Hyunjin added, gesturing toward a middle-aged man in a butler’s uniform standing by the carriage. Hoon’s face remained impassive, polite—but his sharp eyes held an unsettling precision.

Felix remained silent, but his mind raced.

"Take good care of her," Hyunjin instructed Hoon d.

"Yes, Your Grace," Hoon replied smoothly before stepping forward to open the carriage door for Felix.

The duke turned back to his bride once more, a faint smile playing on his lips, though his eyes concealed something unspoken.

A gentle breeze swept past them. Felix hesitated for a moment before Hyunjin extended a hand toward him. He glanced up at the duke again—the man stood firm as a mountain, as if everything was well within his control.

Felix studied the outstretched hand for a brief moment before placing his own upon it. The warmth of Hyunjin’s touch made him pause for a fraction of a second, but he buried every thought deep within. Silently, he allowed the duke to assist him into the carriage.

Just before he fully stepped inside, Hyunjin spoke softly.

"I will return in time for dinner," he said, as though it were a promise.

Felix gave no verbal response, only a slight nod—continuing the role of ‘Eleanor’ that he had to play.

As he settled inside, Martha followed suit. The door shut, and the carriage began to move.

Hyunjin watched it depart for a moment before turning away and stepping into his own carriage.

Inside the carriage making its way toward Hwang Manor, silence reigned. Only the rhythmic clatter of wheels over stone and the steady hoofbeats of the horses filled the space.

Felix sat by the window, amber eyes gazing out at the passing scenery without a word. The sheer curtains fluttered gently as a soft breeze slipped through. His lips pressed into a thin line, his expression composed… yet behind those calm eyes, his thoughts churned.

Across from him, Martha hesitated before finally breaking the silence.

"My lord…" she spoke softly. But when Felix turned away from the window to look at her, she found herself hesitating to continue.

Felix observed her for a moment before the corner of his lips lifted slightly—just a faint smile, one that never reached his eyes. "Is there something you wish to say?"

Martha bit her lower lip before carefully choosing her words. "How… are you feeling, my lord?"

Felix raised an eyebrow slightly, as if the question had caught him off guard. He remained silent for a moment, then lowered his gaze, his faint smile still lingering.

"And how do I seem to you?"

Martha lowered her head. "You seem… calm, my lord."

Felix closed his eyes briefly, as if letting the carriage’s gentle sway carry him elsewhere. When he opened them again, his voice was steady.

"Calm… but you know well that calmness does not always equate to happiness."

Martha fell silent. She knew precisely what he meant.

 

When the carriage slowed and finally came to a halt before Hwang Manor, a servant promptly opened the door. Felix stepped out with practiced grace, his posture immaculate despite the long journey. Martha followed quietly, standing beside him.

Before them stood Hwang Manor—a grand, gray-stone estate. Though it lacked the opulence of Lancaster Manor in the capital, it exuded a solemn, unwavering presence befitting its master. Felix’s gaze swept over the manor’s façade in silent observation before a deep voice broke the quiet.

"Welcome to Hwang Manor, Your Grace."

Hoon, the butler, bowed slightly. "I am the personal butler of the Duke of Lancaster, and from today onward, I shall oversee all matters in this household for you."

Felix offered a small nod, his expression unreadable, accustomed to being the center of attention. Hoon turned, gesturing toward the line of servants assembled before the manor. Dressed impeccably, they stood with disciplined precision.

"These are the household staff. Each has been well trained and will serve Your Grace from this day forth," Hoon stated before introducing each servant by name and their respective duties.

Felix listened in silence, acknowledging the introductions with only the slightest inclination of his head. Yet, every pair of eyes upon him held a mixture of reverence and careful restraint.

Once the formalities concluded, Hoon led Felix inside, guiding him up the grand staircase. The corridor was lined with ornate carpets, leading to a set of doors at the end of the hall—his new chamber.

Hoon stopped by the doors and spoke, "I have instructed the servants to prepare water for your ablutions. Please rest at your leisure, Your Grace.  When the hour for luncheon arrives, I shall have a servant inform you"

Felix gave a small nod before glancing at Martha, who stood behind him. Hoon followed his gaze and addressed her.

"Once you have seen to His Grace’s needs, report to me in the main hall. I will show you the servants’ quarters and explain your duties here."

Martha bowed in acknowledgment. Satisfied, Hoon dipped into a respectful bow before stepping back, leaving Felix and Martha alone.

Felix cast a lingering look at the doors before him, then reached out, pushing them open—stepping into the chamber that, from now on, would be his own.

After bidding farewell and stepping into the carriage, Hyunjin leaned back against the cushioned seat with a composed demeanor, as if everything was within his grasp. The carriage gradually pulled away from the church—a place filled with music and blessings.

Yet, within Hyunjin’s mind, there remained unanswered questions and lingering doubts.

"The Lee family..." he murmured softly to himself.

The words Henry Lee  had spoken to Felix—disguised as Eleanor—still echoed in his head: "You have fulfilled your duty."

It was a statement that seemed to confirm something, something beyond his current understanding. But why did Henry’s words unsettle him so much? Hyunjin began to suspect that they hinted at secrets hidden within the Lee family—stories concealed beneath the façade of perfection and societal acceptance.

As the carriage made its way back into the city, Hyunjin ordered his men to investigate the Lee family—not just general information but deep, intricate details about the lives and behaviors of its members. He wanted the kind of classified knowledge that no one dared to uncover—the family’s internal relationships, the presence of individuals rarely seen, and the untold stories missing from public records.

"Find out everything you can," Hyunjin instructed his aide inside the carriage, his eyes gleaming with determination. "About every member of the Lee family"

With his orders given, Hyunjin allowed his investigation team to carry out their work. Not long after, he received a brief report confirming that inquiries had begun through his established network.

"Now that business is taken care of, it's time to return to my fiancée" Hyunjin murmured to himself, his deep voice laced with contemplation.

It was time to return to Hwang Manor for the promised dinner with Felix. The thought crossed his mind, accompanied by an unreadable flicker in his gaze. Was it duty, responsibility, or expectation that drove him back? Regardless, he knew he had to be there—to ensure that the promise he had made would not become just empty words carried away by the wind.

While waiting for Hyunjin to return from his affairs in the capital. The steady ticking of the clock was a reminder of the passing hours. Changing into fresh clothes in the afternoon brought a slight relief, yet an unshakable tension remained in his heart. He couldn't help but think about Hyunjin’s words and the nature of his business in the city.

In that moment, Felix knew he could not escape the responsibilities he bore as 'Eleanor.' Yet, he still harbored doubts about the entire situation. The best he could do was maintain his composure and prepare himself. When Hyunjin returned, they would dine together as promised.

Felix hoped that tonight, even if only briefly, he would find a moment of true peace.

Hyunjin’s carriage sped toward Hwang Manor, his mind still preoccupied with thoughts of the Lee investigation. The moment he arrived, he stepped out and made his way inside without hesitation—intent on keeping his word.

The manor stood silent under the soft glow of twilight, its grand halls and balconies exuding timeless elegance. The surrounding gardens whispered in the evening breeze, their rustling leaves carrying untold stories. As the lanterns along the corridors flickered to life, the estate was enveloped in a quiet, dignified solitude.

Hyunjin walked through the corridors, his sharp eyes scanning his surroundings—until they landed on the graceful figure of Felix.

Felix was moving through the manor with quiet steps, his demeanor composed. Unlike earlier in the day, he was now adorned in an evening gown of exquisite yet understated elegance, fitting for the Duchess of Lancaster. The fine fabric, deep in hue, was adorned with delicate silver floral embroidery at the hem and cuffs. His golden hair cascaded naturally over his shoulders, impeccably arranged yet effortlessly beautiful.

Felix walked beside Martha and Hoon , the three conversing in hushed tones. Hoon  was the first to notice Hyunjin’s presence, immediately acknowledging him with respectful decorum.

"Your Grace," Hoon  spoke politely. "Dinner has been prepared"

Hyunjin nodded slightly, a faint smile playing at his lips. "Thank you, Hoon "

He turned to Felix, his voice carrying a familiar warmth.

"Eleanor, tonight is special. I would like you to join me for dinner, as promised."

Felix offered a slight smile and nodded in acceptance of the invitation before following Hyunjin into the dining room, which had been meticulously prepared. The manor's dining room featured a large teak table where place settings were already arranged. The food itself was artfully presented on beautiful plates, befitting the status and importance of the meal.

Hoon performed his duties with professional efficiency, setting out the dishes for both of them. Every instruction was carried out quietly and smoothly, as it always was when he provided service.

"I hope the food is to your liking," Hyunjin said, a faint smile playing on his lips as he pulled out a chair for Felix to sit. His movements were steady and elegant, his eyes fixed on Felix with a careful watchfulness, as if considering every word and action's impact on the current atmosphere.

Felix sat down on the chair with a composed grace, in the manner befitting 'Eleanor,' who was to act as the young Duke's bride. Every movement was deliberate, and his expression seemed to reveal no genuine emotion beyond maintaining an image.

"Thank you" Felix said in a level tone, acknowledging Hyunjin's words without any discernible reaction. Yet, inwardly, he began to wonder and ponder Hyunjin's earlier remarks about his business in town.

After Hyunjin had seated Felix, he moved to the head of the table and sat down himself, with Felix seated to his side.

"Martha," Hyunjin said, turning his gaze to the maidservant standing nearby, "If you have any questions or require anything, you may ask Hoon . He will see to your needs appropriately"

Martha nodded her understanding and began to speak, but Hyunjin stopped her by continuing.

"You have attended to the Duchess throughout the day, and so I grant you permission to take your meal and rest," he said with a kind tone. "Afterward, if you are available, you may find me or Hoon "

Martha looked at Hyunjin before her gaze shifted to Felix, as if seeking permission. Seeing this, Felix gave a slight nod, a signal to Martha that she was indeed allowed to rest as the Duke had said. Before leaving, she did not forget to curtsy to the Duke and Duchess of Lancaster, and to the senior servant, Hoon , before exiting the dining room.

Now, Hyunjin sat alone with Felix in the dining room. Hoon  remained standing nearby, and the other servants stood in the corners of the room, a distance away from the two of them.

Felix sat still as a statue, without any movement, until Hyunjin picked up his eating utensils and took the first bite of his meal. Only then did Felix slowly begin to eat as well.

During the meal, they exchanged conversation occasionally. Felix sensed a tension in the air, even though everything appeared orderly and calm. In his heart, however, he was filled with unanswered questions, especially regarding Hyunjin's business and the hidden meaning in his words.

Their movements seemed unhurried, yet in their hearts, both were acutely aware that everything they did and every word they spoke held an underlying significance.

After dinner, Hwang Manor fell into tranquil stillness once more. The warm glow of lanterns stretched down the long corridors, casting faint shadows against polished stone walls.

Hyunjin walked alongside Felix up the grand staircase, their steps steady and unhurried. Silence settled between them, thick yet not uncomfortable.

Upon reaching Felix’s chamber, Hyunjin came to a halt, his keen eyes observing Felix before speaking in a calm, measured tone.

"If you need anything, you may call for Hoon at any time. Or, if you wish not to disturb the servants, my room is three doors down from yours"

Felix lifted his gaze briefly to meet Hyunjin’s  before nodding in quiet acknowledgement.

Hyunjin did not move immediately, lingering in place as he studied the figure before him. His voice carried a quiet undertone of concern as he continued,

"Tomorrow, we are to meet with the king at dawn. I hope you will be well-rested"

Felix hesitated for a moment before replying softly, "I will"

Hyunjin gave a small nod of approval. "Good. Rest well tonight"

With that, he took a slight step back, allowing Felix to enter his room.

Felix glanced at Hyunjin one last time before placing a hand on the cool brass door handle. The sensation made him pause for the briefest of moments before he turned back.

The warm light of the corridor lanterns reflected in his golden eyes, resembling distant stars flickering in the night sky.

"Good night, Duke of Lancaster," Felix said, his voice calm yet formal—maintaining the delicate balance between respect and distance.

Hyunjin stood tall, his sharp gaze unreadable as he regarded Felix in quiet contemplation. Then, ever so faintly, the corner of his lips lifted in an almost imperceptible smile.

"Good night, Duchess" his deep voice echoed softly in reply.

The title rang in the silence between them, a reminder of the ties that bound them together.

With that, Felix gave a final, graceful nod before stepping into his chamber. The polished wooden door shut gently behind him, leaving Hyunjin standing alone in the dimly lit corridor.

He lingered for a moment, gazing at the closed door as if lost in thought, before turning away and walking toward his own quarters.

 

 

Chapter Text

Through the windows of Hwang Manor came the first rays of the day. Felix was standing in front of a brass mirror, looking at his reflection.

Today, he wore a navy-blue satin dress with gold embroidery at the hem and sleeves. Beneath the garment was a corset that cinched so tight he could hardly breathe, yet it highlighted his exquisite form. His torso was adorned with a deep crimson ribbon that symbolized his honor and status. His light blue gemstone earrings glinted in the early light as his golden hair was arranged in an elegant updo and secured in place with a delicately designed white gold hairpin.

But despite the luxurious look of his clothing, his keen eyes remained calm and unwavering.

Hyunjin was preparing himself in the meantime. His well-tailored navy-blue outfit, which embraced his broad shoulders and powerful back, gave him an appearance of authority. A rich red cape, embroidered with gold thread, hung elegantly over his shoulders, matching the rank-designating insignia on his collar. He wore the family's gold signet ring on his ring finger, shining with subdued pride.

Hoon's words suddenly boomed throughout the hallway.

"Your Grace, Your Grace the Duchess, the carriage is ready for departure"

Felix nodded slightly. Hyunjin  came over at the same moment with a faint smile of admiration.

He whispered, "You look magnificent today" and his words were genuine.

Felix looked him in the eye for a moment, then let a tiny smile grow.

"Thank you, Your Grace" he said, his voice soft but composed.

Stepping forward, Hyunjin  opened the door of the black carriage that was waiting for them outside. He reached out a polite hand and carefully and precisely assisted Felix in climbing. Hyunjin went inside as well, taking the seat across from Felix in the roomy cabin. In the dark light of a little lamp hanging within, the two faced one another.

Hyunjin observed Felix with an unwavering gaze. Felix, meanwhile, shifted his gaze to the window and let the silence fill the gap between them.

Hyunjin glanced at Felix, who was seated across from him, every now and then after the carriage had been in motion for some time. Felix seemed quieter than normal, his lovely eyes gazing out the window as though the view was more enthralling than anything else.

Although Felix's eyes appeared to be lost in the scenery, Hyunjin was aware that they weren't actually seeing anything. Felix appeared to be deep in concentration, possibly grappling with something, judging by his calm manner and vacant countenance. Because the stillness in the carriage was becoming oppressive, Hyunjin said softly and worriedly.

"Are you worried?"

For a moment Felix pulled his eyes from the window and stared him in the eyes. After a brief pause, he replied, "No, Your Grace."

Hyunjin could sense the words weren't totally honest, but they were forceful. He chuckled softly and resumed his conversation.

"Do not worry, Eleanor.I’ll always be by your side, no matter what." he continued, providing consolation with each word in a warm and comforting voice.

Felix hesitated for a second, his eyes darting, then settling back down. After carefully examining his face, Hyunjin took something out of his coat pocket

"This is from my family," he shared, displaying a necklace to Felix.

The family's insignia was a gold pendant in the shape of a lion clutching a crimson rose. He held it out to Felix. 

“Our ancestors gifted this necklace to those who were extremely significant. Today, I'd like to give it to you" Hyunjin murmured, his gaze steady and sincere as he offered the necklace.

Felix gazed at the pendant's elaborate pattern, noticing that it mirrored Hyunjin 's ring.

"Are you giving this to me?" Felix asked quietly, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Hyunjin  smiled again. “Indeed, I am handing it to you. And this necklace will serve as a constant reminder that I'm always at your side," he remarked, his tone softening to one of civility before he asked, "May I put it on for you?" He held out his hand, awaiting Felix's answer.

Felix was enthralled with Hyunjin's responses, as he hesitated for a moment. Then he cautiously raised his head to meet his eyes. He leaned cautiously toward Hyunjin  after his eyes twitched a little.

Felix cocked his head, revealing his svelte, pale neck, as if he were granting Hyunjin  permission to voluntarily wrap the necklace around him.

Hyunjin's lengthy fingers moved very carefully over Felix's delicate skin, as though he was worried that the slightest pressure might cause the tender flesh to become bruised. His hands were soft and unexpectedly kind as he wrapped the necklace around Felix's thin neck.

After putting the necklace on, Hyunjin touched the pendant gently, its facets glimmering with the smallest movement. His movements were so gentle, as though he were working with the world's most precious treasure.

As Felix wore the family jewelry, Hyunjin murmured softly, "It suits you perfectly" his piercing eyes never leaving Felix. As if the necklace had been crafted especially for Felix, his eyes were full of awe and a profound, unsaid feeling.

Felix raised his gaze to meet Hyunjin's, his eyes shaking with conflicted feelings. His voice was quiet yet profound as he expressed his appreciation in a whisper.

"Thank you, Hyunjin."

The words were beyond a simple thank you; they expressed a deep and heartfelt appreciation.

The black carriage arrived in front of the castle's main entrance. The large courtyard in front of the tall building was long shadowed. After getting out of the carriage, Hyunjin reached out and carefully helped Felix step off. A servant in dazzling golden gear came up and bowed politely as soon as they were both on the ground.

"Your Grace and the Duchess of Lancaster, welcome” The servant responded modestly, "The King is in the reception room, waiting."

After acknowledging with a nod, Hyunjin gestured for Felix to take his arm by gently raising it. Felix paused for a second. When Hyunjin noticed this, he turned to face him and smiled genuinely. His eyes gleamed with kind support. After staring at him for a while, seemingly considering his options, Felix cautiously extended his arm to gently clasp Hyunjin's. It was a gentle and polite touch.

Through a long hall lined with elaborate Persian rugs and shimmering chandeliers that threw brilliant light everywhere, the servant escorted them inside the castle.

They came to a stop in front of a massive, finely carved wooden door. Hyunjin  looked at Felix warmly and gave him a gentle squeeze on the hand with his free hand, soothing him without using words. Felix gave a small nod in return.

"His Grace and Her Grace the Duchess of Lancaster have arrived" the servant said, raising his voice, and then he opened the grand door to let them into the reception room.

Both Hyunjin and Felix, who was posing as Eleanor, were extremely relieved when the meeting with the King went well. Hyunjin smiled warmly at Felix as they walked out of the reception room.

Felix came up to Hyunjin and murmured, "At least today, there’s nothing to worry about"

The young Duke gave a quiet chuckle. "I told you there was nothing to worry about"

As the mood lightened, Hyunjin used the occasion to give Felix a tour of the exquisitely constructed castle. The two strolled alongside one other down a long hallway, looking out at the verdant garden through the wide windows. The hallway was lined with a long crimson carpet, the vaulted ceilings were painted with murals, and tall marble pillars stood proudly. The castle exuded dignity and royal authority in every way. The artwork and antique furnishings were illuminated by the afternoon sunlight, which created a lovely atmosphere.

When Hyunjin saw a familiar figure standing with a group of nobles as they passed the grand hall, he stopped. He recognized Seungmin right away, a comrade he had studied with since boyhood. A wave of excitement at seeing an old buddy swept through him, but he did feel a little hesitant. He didn't want to leave Eleanor by herself in a strange environment.

Felix said softly, "Is something wrong, Hyunjin?" observing the hesitancy on Hyunjin's face.

With thoughtful eyes, Hyunjin turned to face Felix. "Well, I saw an old friend, someone I studied with when we were younger. I don't want to leave you, but I'd like to go greet him"

Felix instantly understood and grinned a little. “It's okay. You go speak with your companion. We'll get together later after, I’ll spend some time with Martha strolling around the garden" Martha was standing close by when Felix gave her a signal.

Hyunjin was really thankful to Felix. "Eleanor, thank you so much" He said "I swear I won't be long" and rushed in Seungmin's direction.

"Kim!" Hyunjin gave a warm greeting.

Seungmin's eyes widened in surprise and delight as he turned and saw Hyunjin. "Hey, Hwang! It's been a while! How are you?" Like old friends, the two gave one other a hearty embrace.

"I'm well, you?" Hyunjin asked.

"Certainly I'm doing well. By the way, I just caught a glimpse of you strolling with a woman. Who is she?" With interest in his voice, Seungmin inquired.

Hyunjin gave a small smile. "She's Eleanor Lee , daughter of Duke Henry"

"Duke Henry? The Lee  family's daughter is breathtakingly beautiful and her manners match her beauty. She looks like the ideal fit for you," Seungmin said genuinely.

Hyunjin's cheeks began to flush a little, but he couldn't resist grinning.

"Though I’ve never met her before, I feel strangely familiar with her face, as if I’ve seen it somewhere before..." Seungmin thought.

"Have you seen her before?" Surprised, Hyunjin asked.

"Although I've never met her in person, I did see her brother during a meeting with the monarch when I was little" Seungmin clarified "My father showed me photos of his children in an attempt to build an alliance with Duke Henry"

"As far as I remember, Eleanor's brother was quite a reclusive person and rarely socialized, much like his sister."

"Do you remember her brother clearly?" Intrigued, Hyunjin questioned.

"I do. Despite being a man, he had a face that was almost feminine in its elegance and delicacy. For a moment, I even thought he was a woman" Seungmin replied thoughtfully.

He said, "I remember my father also praised him, saying that Duke Henry’s son had a distinctive appearance unlike anyone else." Seungmin took a moment to think. "And when I saw Eleanor earlier, I couldn’t help but feel that her face resembled her brother’s a lot"

"Interesting..." Hyunjin  whispered to himself, attempting to conceal his surprise with a calm smile. He gave Seungmin a casual shoulder pat. "Seungmin, I'm thrilled to see you, but I have to go back to her. I don't want to keep her waiting.

"Of course, Hyunjin. I get it. Next time, we'll discuss more," Seungmin said, grinning as he nodded.

After giving his friend another nod, Hyunjin hurried out of the hall and headed to the garden, where he was planning  to meet Felix. He was still thinking about what Seungmin had said. He kept thinking about the parallels Seungmin had pointed out between Eleanor and his brother. Was it all a coincidence, or was there a deeper meaning at play?

Hyunjin's steps stopped suddenly in surprise when he reached the garden. He was thrown into a storm of emotions by the scene in front of him. Felix was talking energetically to a young man while remaining in Eleanor's disguise. What really surprised and upset Hyunjin  was the man's identity—none other than Christopher, a friend who had now turned against him. The conversation they had seemed familiar and friendly.

Hyunjin's thoughts were filled with memories of previous betrayals. In his chest, a strong feeling of mistrust and jealousy started to grow. How did Eleanor know Christopher? And why did they seem so close?

Unknowingly clenching his fists, Hyunjin stared at the two individuals. When Christopher gazed at Felix, his eyes were full of adoration and perhaps even affection, and Felix himself seemed relaxed—comfortable with this man. 

Hyunjin struggled with indecision. Should he wait until they were finished talking, or should he interrupt? However, the longer he remained there, the more uneasy he became. Even for a moment, he couldn't stand the idea of Eleanor being close to someone he didn't trust.

Finally, Hyunjin made up his mind. His boots crunched on the gravel path as he stepped forward into the garden. The sound cut the conversation short. With a hint of surprise on their faces, Felix and Christopher turned to face him. 

“Eleanor,” Hyunjin called out, his voice carefully controlled, though irritation simmered beneath the surface. “I was looking for you.”

Felix gave him a natural smile. “We were just having a really interesting conversation, my lord. I was being told by this man about—“

Hyunjin interrupted, his voice harsher than he meant to be. "I apologise for interrupting." His piercing eyes stared directly at Christopher, his animosity scarcely disguised.“I believe it is time for us to return inside, Eleanor. The king may have other matters to discuss with us.”

The man noticed the tension in Hyunjin’s voice and gaze. He stood up and gave Felix a polite bow. “In that case, I shall take my leave. It was a pleasure speaking with you, Lady Eleanor. I hope we will have the opportunity to converse again.”

“Likewise, Sir…” Felix trailed off, uncertain of the man’s name.

The stranger offered a small, amiable smile before extending his hand toward Felix in a courteous gesture. Felix hesitated for a brief moment but eventually extended his own hand in return, following proper etiquette.

The stranger smiled slightly and politely, then held out his hand to Felix. After a moment's hesitation, Felix dutifully extended his own hand in return.

When their hands made contact, the man leaned forward a little and gave Felix's hand a soft kiss on the back, which is traditional for high society to show respect and farewell. Initially surprised by the strange action, Felix soon reminded himself that it was only a common hello or farewell among noblemen and ladies.

"Christopher," the man finally replied softly as he released Felix's hand.

Felix smiled back and repeated his name gently, "Sir Christopher"

Christopher turned to give Hyunjin  a quick nod before leaving the two of them alone in the garden.

Hyunjin went to Felix as soon as Christopher was out of sight, his eyes full with questions and hardly disguised annoyance. "How do you know that man?" There was a trace of jealousy in his voice

Felix arched an eyebrow in confusion at Hyunjin 's response. "We only just met. Why? Is something matter, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin's eyes narrowed. "You recently met him?" He spoke in a doubtful tone.

"Yes," Felix said simply. “Martha excused herself for a time while we were walking in the garden. That man happened to pass by and struck up a conversation about plants and flowers, which I found quite fascinating. Is there a reason you're so upset?”

Hyunjin let out a deep breath, attempting to control his annoyance. "I dislike it when you speak with him" He spoke bluntly.

Felix frowned a little. "Why not? He appeared polite and knowledgeable about botany”

Hyunjin 's face grew serious. He firmly stated, "Christopher is not someone to be trusted"

"I used to be friends with him, but he betrayed me and did a lot of actions that I am unable to forgive. You shouldn't interact with him in any way”

Felix studied Hyunjin ’s face carefully before nodding in understanding. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t aware of your history with him, but you needn’t worry—I have no special attachment to Sir Christopher. He was merely a passing acquaintance”

Hyunjin was still uneasy, but seeing the sincerity in Felix’s eyes, he forced himself to relax. “I hope so, Eleanor. I’m only concerned for you”

Felix reached out and gently took Hyunjin’s hand. “I understand. You don’t have to worry. I’ll be cautious”

Hyunjin squeezed Felix’s hand lightly. The lingering jealousy was still there, but his trust in Felix outweighed his doubts. He forced himself to push aside the images that had unsettled him and chose to believe in Felix’s words.

With a softer tone, Hyunjin remarked, "Let's head back inside" He guided Felix toward the castle while holding his hand lightly. He made an effort to hide the uneasiness that was still simmering within him.

They walked side by side through the grand halls of the palace. The setting sun cast long shadows across the walls, making the golden ornaments and oil paintings glow with warm light. They passed by elaborate tapestries and fine furniture in silence, neither mentioning Christopher nor the conversation Hyunjin had with Seungmin about Eleanor’s brother. It was as if Hyunjin wanted to keep those thoughts to himself for now.

Felix, however, noticed the subtle shift in Hyunjin’s demeanor. He didn’t press for answers, only observing the man’s expressions quietly.

After some time, Hyunjin decided it was time for them to return to Hwang Manor. The long day of courtly duties, royal audiences, and wandering the palace had left them both drained.

“I think we should head back, Eleanor” Hyunjin ’s voice broke the silence as they arrived at the palace entrance.

Felix nodded in agreement. “I’m feeling rather exhausted as well”

Hyunjin ordered for the carriage to be prepared. Once it arrived, he helped Felix inside before joining him. As the carriage began its journey back to Hwang Manor, they left behind the grandeur of the royal palace—along with the lingering unease still weighing on Hyunjin’s mind.

The night sky draped Hwang Manor in a veil of soft moonlight. As their carriage passed through the grand gates and came to a halt in the front courtyard, the evening air remained still, broken only by the whisper of the wind rustling through the towering trees lining the path.

Hyunjin stepped down first, then extended his hand to assist Felix, his slender fingers wrapping securely around the other's to ensure he descended steadily. As they entered the manor, the assembled servants bowed their heads in respect.

The servants step forward to inform them that dinner had been arranged. They took their seats in the grand dining hall, where the warm glow of intricately carved candelabras cast flickering shadows. The meticulously prepared meal was enjoyed alongside occasional light conversation.

Once the meal had concluded, Hyunjin rose to his feet and spoke in a gentle tone, "I’ll walk you to your room."

Felix looked up at him briefly before offering a small nod. The two strolled side by side along the mansion’s corridor, the silence between them not uncomfortable but filled with an unspoken sentiment that needed no words.

Upon reaching Felix's chamber, Hyunjin came to a stop, his gaze resting upon the other with quiet tenderness.

"You did well today" he said, offering a faint smile.

Felix blinked in mild surprise before mirroring the smile. "So did you"

Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before Hyunjin averted his gaze and gave a slight nod. "Good night, Eleanor."

"Good night, my lord." Felix replied before stepping into his room.

Hyunjin lingered for a moment, watching as the door slowly closed. Then, with a quiet exhale, he turned and made his way back to his own quarters, his elongated shadow stretching beneath the dim glow of the corridor’s lanterns.

Chapter Text

When the golden light of dawn streamed through the tall windows of the grand mansion, Felix slowly awoke from his dreams. His senses gradually adjusted to the calm silence of the new day, the cool air filled with the scent of clean linen and polished wood.

He carried out his morning routine with the same grace as always–rising, bathing, dressing–while leaving everything else to the servants who attended him seamlessly. As usual, Martha remained close by, ensuring every detail was in order, from his garments to the arrangement of his chamber.

In the afternoon, Felix chose to spend his leisure in his room, sipping fine tea as he read by the window. His slender hand turned the pages lightly, absorbed the world of letters, while Martha busied herself quietly with tidying the chamber. Her movements, though silent, were a source of comfort.

Everything was peaceful.. until the sound of knocking broke the stillness.

Felix lifted his gaze slightly from the book, just as Hoon’s calm voice came through the door.

“Your Grace, a letter has arrived for you.”

Felix set his teacup down and glanced at Martha before replying, “Can you bring it to me, please? And told Hoon I said thank you”

Martha stepped forward to receive the letter from Hoon, glancing at the seal and sender’s name.

“It is from the Bang family, my lord.”

Felix frowned slightly. Bang? He knew the name–it was once a renowned warrior family, nearly equal in standing to the Lancasters. But now, they had shifted from warriors to influential politicians.

What puzzled him most, however, was that the letter wasn’t addressed to the Lancaster family, but it was addressed to him personally.

Why would a family like that contact him directly?

His fingers traced the letters on the envelope before he decided to break the seal. Inside was an invitation–an invitation to a tea party at the Bang estate.

And the sender?

Christopher Bang

A name Felix once told–once Hyunjin’s close friend, but now his sworn enemy.

Felix read the letter again, then set it down on the table. The Bang family was not one to send such an invitation without reason. Something must lie behind it.

Yet Felix didn’t rush to find the answer. He set the letter aside and picked his book back up, though this time the words on the page no longer held his attention.

After finishing breakfast with Felix, Hyunjin set out for the city to attend to certain matters. Yet in his mind, he couldn’t shake the words of Seungmin—his former close friend—from their recent audience with the king.

Something about what Seungmin had said felt troubling, and Hyunjin still hadn’t unraveled the riddle.

When he reached his destination, one of his informants came forward to deliver news. The investigation into the Lee family was still ongoing, but so far, there wasn’t much useful information.

Hyunjin furrowed his brows. “And what of Henry Lee’s children?”

The man paused before replying, “It is said that Lord Henry Lee has two children—a daughter and a son. But both are extremely reserved, rarely seen at social gatherings, and almost never appearing at royal or evening events. Because of this, information about them is very limited, my lord.”

Hyunjin listened in silence, his sharp eyes thoughtful.

A powerful family like the Lees usually made some appearance in social circles, yet here was the opposite—their heirs were almost invisible to the nobility. That was far from ordinary.

Something was being hidden.

Something not yet uncovered.

And Hyunjin was determined to be the one to expose it.

The last light of day faded, painting the sky gold and violet as Hyunjin’s carriage stopped in front of Hwang Manor, signaling his return. As he stepped down, the aroma of dinner drifted into the air, proof that the evening meal was nearly ready.

Inside, the house was warm with the sounds and scents of the kitchen, servants bustling to prepare the dishes. Hyunjin made his way directly to the dining hall, but when he opened the door, only the servants were present—Eleanor was nowhere in sight.

He paused briefly, then spoke to the nearest servant.

“Tell Lady Eleanor that dinner is ready—”

Before he could finish, soft footsteps sounded. Felix entered the hall with a calm air, now dressed more comfortably than during the day. Martha followed quietly behind.

Felix smiled faintly upon seeing Hyunjin and greeted him with a voice that was calm yet warm:

“Welcome back, my lord.”

Hyunjin studied him for a moment, his dark eyes lingering on Felix’s face before a faint smile tugged at his lips. He did not reply in words but instead pulled out a chair, gesturing for Felix to sit.

Felix did so without protest, and Hoon soon served the meal for the two of them.

Their conversation flowed smoothly over dinner—until Felix set down his spoon and lifted his gaze.

“While you were in the city today, I received a letter.” He began, taking a sip of water.

Hyunjin looked up slightly, waiting for him to continue.

“It was an invitation to a tea party.”

Hyunjin nodded, seemingly unbothered. “That’s good. You should go. I must apologize for not being able to accompany you often—if you attend this, you won’t have to stay cooped up in your room.”

Felix arched his brow. “You don’t wish to know who it was from?”

Hyunjin turned to him with mild interest. “Who sent it?”

Felix didn’t answer directly. Instead, he glanced at Martha, who understood immediately. From her pocket, she carefully withdrew the letter she had kept and handed it to Hyunjin.

“Christopher Bang.”

The name froze Hyunjin in place for a moment. His hand, half-extended to take the letter, hesitated before finally accepting it and unfolding it.

The room grew quiet save for the faint rustle of paper as he read. When he finished, Hyunjin folded it neatly, set it on the table, and sat deep in thought.

“Do you wish to go?” he asked at last.

Felix hesitated briefly before replying with his usual calm tone, “That depends on you. If you don’t want me to go, then I won’t.”

Hyunjin regarded him silently, then leaned back in his chair, considering.

Christopher Bang, inviting Eleanor to a tea party?

If it had been any ordinary social call, he wouldn’t have cared. But Christopher was not someone to be trusted, and this letter carried an uneasy weight.

Finally, Hyunjin spoke firmly:

“I will go with you.”

Felix’s brow lifted slightly in surprise—an answer that went against his expectations. He looked at Hyunjin with a questioning gaze, as if waiting for further explanation. His voice carried a trace of doubt as he asked politely but directly:

“You do realize, don’t you, that you weren’t the one invited?”

Hyunjin merely smirked faintly, dismissive. “I know. But I have no other duties tomorrow.”

He leaned forward, fixing his gaze on Felix, his expression unreadable.

“Tomorrow, I will accompany you to the tea party.”

 

That next day was the one when Felix and Hyunjin would attend the tea party at the Bang estate.

Both chose to wear matching colors—soft beige—carrying a quiet elegance and gentleness befitting high society.

Felix wore a satin gown of fine fabric that shimmered in the sunlight. The skirt flowed gracefully with each step, fitted perfectly at the waist to accentuate his delicate figure. The bodice was draped in intricate folds, adorned with a small bow and a jeweled brooch that gleamed like precious stones.

The sleeves puffed in layered tiers, gathered neatly at the wrists to emphasize the slenderness of his hands. In one hand, he held an ivory fan with a golden inlay, enhancing the impression that he was a princess straight out of a fairytale.

His golden hair was softly curled, framing his fair face. Small gemstone earrings glinted with each movement. He carried himself with poise, every bit a noble lady stepping out of a painting.

Hyunjin, in contrast, wore a long beige coat that swayed lightly as he walked. The double rows of golden buttons reflected his high status. Beneath, he wore a waistcoat of deep golden-brown brocade, richly patterned, paired with a pristine white shirt. A white cravat, folded neatly in layers, adorned his neck. Cream-colored trousers fit his tall, well-proportioned frame, further emphasizing his dignified bearing.

His dark hair was neatly styled, though not bound too formally. On his right hand gleamed the Lancaster signet ring—gold, engraved with intricate design—a mark of power and legacy that never left him.

As he finished speaking with Hoon about the carriage, the sound of light footsteps drew his attention. Hyunjin turned to the staircase just as Felix appeared, descending gracefully step by step.

His golden hair shone beneath the chandelier, and his amber eyes softened under the pale hues of his attire. He looked almost like a painting come to life.

When Felix reached the ground floor, Hyunjin’s lips curved faintly.

“The color suits you very well.”

Felix blinked, searching his expression as though to test whether he was sincere.

“Thank you. You look well also,” he replied shortly.

Hyunjin said nothing further but instead extended a small cream-colored box tied with a white ribbon.

Felix arched his brow. “What is this, my lord?”

“A gift. For you.”

Felix accepted it with mild puzzlement before Martha stepped forward to hold it for him. Hyunjin then opened the box himself, drawing out a cream fascinator hat adorned with a white feather and delicate ribbons. Its surface was embroidered faintly with golden thread that shimmered subtly in the light.

“I saw this at a shop yesterday,” Hyunjin explained calmly. “I thought it would suit you.”

“May I?” he asked, holding the hat.

Felix regarded him a moment before nodding slightly.

Hyunjin carefully set the fascinator upon Felix’s head, adjusting it until it sat just right. He stepped back, his eyes warming with satisfaction.

“As I thought—it suits you perfectly.”

Felix’s fingers brushed the embroidered edge lightly. His eyes lifted to meet Hyunjin’s, calm as ever, though a faint softness lingered beneath.

“In that case.. thank you, my lord.”

With all prepared, the one boarded the black carriage, with Hoon and Martha accompanying them. The wheels turned smoothly along the gravel, their destination clear: the Bang estate.

The black carriage rolled to a gentle halt before the grand gates of the Bang mansion. The doors swung open, servants already waiting in solemn rows.

Hyunjin descended first, then offered his hand. Felix accepted with grace, his slender fingers resting upon Hyunjin’s as he stepped down.

The afternoon sun shone across the green lawns, carrying the fragrance of flowers mixed with the aroma of tea drifting from the garden where the party was to be held.

The servants guided them through an arched entryway, leading to the back gardens.

There, small tables were set beneath the shade of great trees, laid with white linens, fine china, and delicate pastries. The air was filled with conversation and the soft trills of birds.

Guests of noble rank and political power mingled—ladies and gentlemen of high society, heirs of great houses.

And when Felix and Hyunjin entered—

Every gaze turned to them.

The Lancaster couple.

They had already been the subject of society’s whispers: Eleanor’s marriage to Hyunjin Lancaster was a union everyone watched closely—not only because of the Lancaster name, but because of Hyunjin’s infamous history with the Bang family.

Whispers spread quickly:

“That is the Duke’s wife…”

“Such beauty. I’ve never seen her at a gathering before.”

“They say Lancaster chose her himself…”

“But who is she, really?”

Felix, arm in arm with Hyunjin, betrayed no reaction. His amber eyes remained calm as he walked beside his hyunjin with perfect composure. Hyunjin too ignored the stares, his stride steady, his face cold yet commanding.

As they moved among the crowd, Hyunjin leaned slightly and asked under his breath:

“How do you feel?”

Felix’s lips curved faintly. “It seems we’ve become the center of attention.”

His fingers brushed lightly against the fascinator Hyunjin had given him that morning. “We may as well get used to it.”

Hyunjin chuckled quietly and tightened his grip on Felix’s arm.

At the center of the garden, a tall man waited. His dark-brown hair was neatly styled, his frame fit perfectly into a dark gray suit. His sharp blue eyes fixed on the couple as they approached.

Christopher Bang.

Once Hyunjin’s closest friend—now his bitter enemy.

A faint smile touched Christopher’s lips as he stepped forward, first bowing slightly to Felix.

“…It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Eleanor.”

Then, turning to Hyunjin, his voice level:

“I did not expect you to come in person, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed slightly, his reply even:

“You sent a letter to my wife. Of course I came.”

A spark of something sharp flickered in Christopher’s gaze. The two men’s eyes locked, tension crackling between them. Guests around them grew hushed, waiting to see who would speak first.

But it was not Hyunjin nor Christopher who broke the silence—

It was Felix.

“Thank you, Lord Bang, for the honor of your invitation,” Felix said with a faint, polite smile. “I am most grateful.”

His voice was soft, courteous, but steady.

Christopher shifted his gaze from Hyunjin to Felix, speaking with ease. “I hope that relations between us may improve in the future—for the benefit of all.”

Hyunjin gave a slight nod, though his posture remained tense, his eyes never leaving Christopher. Felix could sense the strain but chose not to add to it.

The tea party continued in lively chatter and music, though the silent rivalry between the two men lingered beneath the surface, ready to ignite again.

As the afternoon tea unfolded in a swirl of chatter and laughter. Nobles sipped from porcelain cups, their voices mingling with the fragrance of flowers and warm pastries.

Hyunjin and Felix drew constant attention. Some young ladies, eager to admire Hyunjin’s battlefield fame, approached with questions. Others, charmed by Felix’s grace and mysterious beauty, circled around him.

Hyunjin, though not fond of social exchanges, tolerated the conversations for the sake of courtesy. Yet every so often, his eyes drifted toward Felix.

And each time—

He saw Felix standing with calm poise, unbothered by the countless stares, answering politely with a faint smile. His golden hair shimmered in the light, his amber eyes unwavering.

Christopher saw his chance.

While Hyunjin was momentarily surrounded by curious nobles, Christopher approached Felix. The circle of ladies around Felix parted slightly, their admiration replaced with anticipation.

Christopher stepped close, his voice smooth:
 “I hope this atmosphere doesn’t make you uncomfortable, Lady Eleanor.”

Felix glanced up from his teacup and met his gaze. His lips curved faintly.
 “Not at all. Though it seems you, Lord Bang, must be quite busy hosting today.”

Christopher chuckled, shaking his head. “A good host must not neglect his guests—especially the most important ones.”

Felix blinked slowly, then lowered his gaze, lifting his cup once more.
 “Your words are flattering.”

Christopher’s smile remained polite, but his eyes betrayed a sharper interest.

And then—he leaned closer. Too close. His hand extended, fingers reaching as if to touch the golden necklace at Felix’s throat.

That was when Hyunjin moved.

Silent as a blade drawn from its sheath, he appeared at Felix’s side and seized Christopher’s wrist before his fingers could brush the chain.

The grip was iron, his voice colder than steel.
 “Do not overstep. Show some respect.”

The surrounding guests fell silent, all eyes drawn to the confrontation.

Christopher paused, then gave a light laugh as though brushing it off. He slowly pulled back his hand.
 “My apologies. I meant no offense.”

But Hyunjin’s eyes remained locked on him, sharp and unyielding.

Felix, seeing the storm in hyunjin’s face, placed a gentle hand on his arm. His voice was calm, soft, a counterweight to the tension.
 “My lord, forgive us. May we be excused for a moment?”

He inclined his head politely to Christopher, then whispered to Hyunjin, “Let’s walk in the garden.”

Hyunjin hesitated, then gave a short nod, allowing Felix to guide him away.

They walked deeper into the gardens until the sounds of the party faded, replaced by the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Felix stopped in a quiet corner, his hand still resting lightly on Hyunjin’s arm. His amber eyes softened.
 “My lord… please, calm yourself.”

Hyunjin stood rigid, his jaw tight, brows furrowed.

“Hyunjin.” Felix called his name again, firmer this time.

Hyunjin exhaled sharply, as if waking from a trance.
 “…Forgive me. I shouldn’t have reacted that way.”

Felix studied him quietly. “What happened? What made you this angry, my lord?”

Hyunjin’s lips pressed into a thin line. He didn’t answer.

Felix sighed softly and brushed his hand against Hyunjin’s sleeve.
 “Calm down.”

But Hyunjin still scowled, caught in the grip of his emotions.

“Listen to me,” Felix urged, voice lower.

At last, Hyunjin dropped his gaze, breathing deeply. His words slipped out, quiet, conflicted.
 “I don’t even understand myself. Don’t you realize? Christopher leaned far too close to you. He reached for your necklace.”

Felix tilted his head slightly. “I didn’t notice. With all the noise, I thought he was only about to whisper something.”

Hyunjin’s teeth clenched. “He was about to touch you. You are my wife. No other man should lay hands on you.”

Felix froze a moment—almost blurting, But I am not truly a woman—yet he bit the words back.

Instead, he gave a small laugh and nodded. “I'm sorry, I didn't notice, I will be more careful.”

He hesitated, then added gently, “It has been years since I’ve received a personal invitation like this. Usually, letters come in my family’s name, not mine. That is why… I thought this one was different.”

Hyunjin’s gaze darkened. “You think Bang desires you?”

Felix fell silent for a moment, then answered. “I may not know his true intentions, but I’m thankful that he sees me for who I am. It feels good to be invited as Eleanor, and not just as a member of the Lee family.” Even though I am not the true Eleanor, he thought to himself.

Hyunjin’s scowl deepened, a shadow on his face. “Whatever his intentions, you must be cautious.”

Felix finally turned back, his gaze a still pool reflecting a quiet but steady resolve. “I know. I don’t trust him either. But rest assured—I won’t be deceived so easily.”

Hyunjin’s eyes, like an artist’s, studied Felix’s face, searching for a false note. After a long moment, a sigh escaped him, a quiet release of held breath. “Good.”

For a moment, they stood together in silence, only the wind whispering through the leaves.

The golden light of late afternoon softened Felix’s features, lending his calm expression a rare warmth.

Hyunjin glanced at him, then quickly looked away.

“…Shall we return to the gathering?” he asked quietly.

Felix shook his head with a faint smile. “Not just yet. I’d rather not face so many eyes again right now.”

“Then we’ll stay here a while longer,” Hyunjin replied.

Felix turned his head, amused. “You’re letting me hide, then?”

Hyunjin gave a small shrug. “I only thought you might need rest.”

Felix's light chuckle drifted on the evening air. "I must admit, I never imagined you possessed such a capacity for thoughtfulness, my lord."

Hyunjin averted his gaze, a flush of color creeping up his neck. His voice was a low murmur, almost swallowed by the quiet of the garden. "I do not extend such care to just anyone... only to you."

Felix stilled, a sudden quietness settling over him. His amber eyes flickered with a raw, unguarded surprise, and the faint curve of a smile touched his lips.

"...Thank you, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin offered no reply, only a brief, stiff nod. It was an acknowledgment, a silent promise, more profound than any spoken word.

In the quiet garden, their shadows stretched side by side, two separate forms now bound together beneath the fading light of dusk.

When at last they returned, the sun was sinking lower, casting long golden rays across the tables. Conversations still flowed, nobles still mingled, but many eyes followed the Lancaster couple as they reappeared.

Felix carried himself with the same composure as before, a soft smile curving his lips, as though nothing had disturbed him. Hyunjin, however, remained cool and distant, his sharp gaze ensuring that Christopher kept well away.

Soon after, the gathering began to thin. Servants collected empty cups, and guests took their leave with polite farewells. Felix and Hyunjin excused themselves as well, guided back through the mansion’s arched halls.

Outside, the black carriage awaited.

Hyunjin descended first and once again offered his hand. Felix placed his fingers lightly in his palm, stepping in with grace. Martha and Hoon followed behind, but their presence remained respectfully quiet.

The door shut, the carriage jolted gently, and they began the journey back.

Inside, silence reigned for a time. Only the rhythmic sound of hooves on gravel and the turning of the wheels filled the air. Felix sat with his fan folded neatly in his lap, gazing out at the passing scenery. Hyunjin leaned back, arms crossed, eyes lowered as though deep in thought.

The silence had stretched between them like a taut thread, and at last, Felix broke it with a voice as soft as the fading light.

“You were very… protective today.”

Hyunjin’s dark eyes, like chips of obsidian, lifted to his. “Do you disapprove?”

Felix shook his head lightly, a cascade of golden curls brushing his cheek. “No. Only—I’ve never seen you lose composure before. It surprised me.”

Hyunjin was silent, the carriage wheels a rhythmic counterpoint to his thoughts. Then, the words came as a low mutter. “I cannot stand him near you. That man… Christopher… he has no honor.”

Felix tilted his head, studying him with a curiosity. “You truly despise him, don’t you?”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened, a hard, sharp line in the deepening gloom. “He was once my friend. But betrayal, a wound more brutal than any blade, has cleaved our bond. Now, he is nothing but an enemy.”

Felix turned his gaze back to the window, his expression unreadable as the last rays of sun painted his profile in a distant, amber glow.

“An enemy who sought me out,” he murmured, the words a quiet observation that held the weight of a stone.

Hyunjin’s hands, clenched into fists where they rested on his knees, were a silent promise of violence. “And he will regret it if he dares to overstep again.”

The air in the carriage grew heavy, thick with unspoken feelings, yet the tension slowly dissolved into the steady rhythm of their journey.

As the carriage drew closer to the looming silhouette of Hwang Manor, Felix glanced at him once more. His voice was soft but deliberate, a new note of steel entering it.

“You don’t need to worry so much. I know how to protect myself.”

Hyunjin turned, and his gaze lingered on Felix’s face for a long while. Something unspoken passed between them—worry and frustration, but beneath it all, a fragile, gentler understanding.

“…Perhaps,” he conceded at last, the word a reluctant sigh. “But even so, I will not let my guard down.”

Felix offered a small, fleeting smile, a wisp of amusement at his stubborn devotion, and looked away once more as the rattling carriage wheels announced their arrival. The final light of dusk surrendered to the night.

Chapter Text

Weeks had passed since the wedding.

The days at Hwang Manor fell into a quiet rhythm. At meals, Hyunjin and Felix sat across from one another, exchanging polite words but never lingering long enough to call it intimacy. They observed each other cautiously, as two strangers bound by duty. Hyunjin noted the Duchess’s unusual poise, her sharp gaze that missed little, the way her words carried more wit than expected of a sheltered noblewoman. Felix, behind the guise of Eleanor, studied Hyunjin’s composure—his cold, steady manner that never wavered, except in rare moments when fatigue from old battle wounds softened his face.

It was an arrangement of courtesy, not yet companionship.

But that morning, Felix awoke with a fever. His body ached, his throat burned, and when he tried to speak, his voice emerged hoarse, far too low to maintain his disguise. Alarm prickled at him—if Hyunjin heard him like this, the ruse would collapse. Thus, he confined himself to his chamber, curtains drawn against the sun, and let Martha attend him.

By midday, word arrived: the Duchess of Lancaster, Hyunjin’s mother, had come to visit.

Hyejin entered the manor with the poise of one long accustomed to command. Draped in velvet the color of deep wine, her dark eyes swept the hall with quiet authority. Time had not dulled her beauty, nor her sharpness. Where Hyunjin was a blade tempered by war, his mother was the hand that wielded it—elegant, unyielding, and precise.

“Where is my daughter-in-law?” she asked as she removed her gloves.

Hyunjin bowed slightly. “Eleanor has taken ill, Mother. A mild fever. She is resting in her chamber.”

“Then I shall see her.”

There was no refusing her tone. Hyunjin led the way upstairs, though a faint tension flickered in his jaw.

The chamber smelled faintly of herbs and fresh linens. Felix lay against the pillows, pale but composed, a shawl draped lightly across his shoulders. When the door opened, Martha immediately stepped forward.

“Your Grace,” Martha curtsied, her voice steady, “my lady begs forgiveness for not being able to rise. Her fever has left her too weak to speak much today.”

Felix inclined his head faintly on the pillow, his lips curving in the softest of smiles. He dared not speak—his voice was treacherous—but his eyes conveyed both courtesy and apology.

Hyejin studied him for a long moment, her gaze sharp as a hawk’s. Then she softened, just enough to sit gracefully at the edge of the bed.

“You need not apologize, child. Illness spares no one.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes flickered briefly toward Hyunjin. “And how have the two of you been faring? Marriage is no small adjustment.”

Hyunjin answered, his tone formal. “We are learning to understand one another. Eleanor has been dutiful. We are… well enough.”

Felix’s lashes lowered, hiding the amusement that tugged faintly at him. Well enough? It was as though Hyunjin were giving a report to the king.

But before his thoughts could linger, Hyejin’s next question fell like a stone into the room.

Her voice was calm, but her words struck like an arrow. “And when,” she asked smoothly, “should I expect news of an heir?” 

The chamber stilled.

Felix’s heart skipped, his fever-warmed cheeks flushing hotter. He forced the faintest smile, but dared not open his mouth—his voice would betray him instantly. Instead, his eyes flicked helplessly toward Hyunjin, as if to say, what now?

Hyunjin, usually unshaken even on the battlefield, stiffened. For the first time in weeks, a hint of color crept to his ears. His jaw tightened, not in anger but in discomfort.

Martha, quick to sense the silence stretching, stepped forward and curtsied.
 “My lady’s health has been delicate since the wedding,” she said smoothly, “so it would be unwise to rush such matters. It is only right that she regains her full strength first, your Grace.”

Felix lowered his gaze to the blanket, fingers curling in the fabric. His amber eyes shimmered faintly with something between embarrassment and relief, his lips pressing together to hide the awkward smile threatening to show.

Hyejin’s sharp eyes shifted to Hyunjin, expectant.

Hyunjin coughed lightly into his hand, his composure not quite as steady as usual. “Indeed,” he said at last, his voice quieter than normal. “There… is no need to hurry. Eleanor’s health must come first.”

His words were correct, formal as always, but the slight hesitation in his tone betrayed him.

The Duchess’s lips curved, her eyes glinting with faint amusement—as though she had caught both of them red-handed in their shared awkwardness. “Very well,” she said smoothly. “I only wished to be assured that the Lancaster line remains strong. Take care of each other.”

Felix kept his gaze down, wishing the fever could swallow him whole. Hyunjin cleared his throat again and stood a little too stiffly by the bedside, both of them grateful when the subject moved on.

When the Duchess finally withdrew, the chamber seemed to exhale with her. The heavy rustle of her skirts faded down the corridor, leaving only the faint crackle of the fire.

Hyunjin remained standing at the foot of the bed, hands clasped behind his back. Felix, still pale from fever, sank a little deeper into the pillows, wishing the blanket would swallow him whole.

Neither spoke.

The silence stretched, thick with the memory of Hyejin’s question.

Felix shifted slightly, eyes lowered, his lashes hiding the heat still clinging to his cheeks. He could not look at Hyunjin—an heir. The very thought was impossible, absurd. He could not give him one. He never could.

Hyunjin, for his part, found his throat uncomfortably tight. He had faced war councils, kingly commands, even death without flinching—yet the moment his mother had spoken of children, his composure had cracked. He could not bring himself to look at Eleanor now, not when the word heir still echoed in his ears.

The silence became unbearable. Felix coughed lightly, more from nerves than fever, and pulled the shawl closer around his shoulders. Hyunjin adjusted the cuff of his sleeve as though it suddenly required attention.

Still, their eyes refused to meet.

It was ridiculous, Felix thought with a flash of wryness. They had been bound as husband and wife, yet neither had so much as entertained the thought of heirs until Hyejin’s blunt question forced it upon them. And now, to think of it—so impossible, so dangerous—made his stomach twist with embarrassment.

For Hyunjin, the thought was equally jarring. He had entered this marriage as a duty, a political bond, nothing more. The idea of heirs had been distant, abstract—until today. Now, faced with it, he felt uncharacteristically unmoored.

At last, Hyunjin cleared his throat softly.
“Rest well,” he murmured, his voice low, almost gruff.

Felix gave a faint nod without lifting his gaze. “Mm.”

And with that, Hyunjin turned on his heel and left the chamber, the door shutting quietly behind him.

Only then did Felix let out the breath he’d been holding, his hand pressing lightly against his chest.

An heir, he thought bitterly. The very thing he, as Eleanor, was obligated to provide this family. It was a debt he could never repay. He had no intention of ever sharing a bed with Hyunjin, not if it meant the fragile truth of his identity would be shattered.

The corridor outside Felix’s chamber was dim, lit only by the flicker of sconces. Duchess Hyejin moved with quiet grace, her velvet skirts trailing behind her like a shadow. Hyunjin followed, his expression composed, though a faint line still marked his brow.

When they reached the landing, Hyejin paused. She turned to her son, her gaze piercing even in the half-light.

“She is delicate,” she said at last, her tone even. “But not weak.”

Hyunjin inclined his head. “Yes, Mother.”

“And yet,” Hyejin continued, her eyes narrowing slightly, “she hides much behind her silence. Did you notice?”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened. “She is… reserved. That is true. But she has been dutiful. Courteous.”

Hyejin studied him as though she could read more from what he did not say than from what he spoke aloud. A faint smile touched her lips—not warm, but knowing.

“You defend her readily.”

Hyunjin’s gaze flickered, caught off guard for a heartbeat before settling back into steadiness. “…It is my duty.”

“Duty.” Hyejin’s voice softened, though the steel within it did not fade. “Marriage is more than duty, Hyunjin. It is trust. If you wish this household to stand strong, you must know not only what she shows you, but what she hides.”

Her words sank into him, sharper than he wished to admit. He thought of Eleanor’s downcast lashes, her soft silence, her refusal—or inability—to speak when fever-weakened. Something in it gnawed at him, though he pushed the thought aside.

“I understand,” Hyunjin said, his voice low.

Hyejin stepped closer, laying a hand briefly on his arm. “Do not mistake my meaning. I do not doubt her virtue. But I have lived long enough to know that secrets fester where words are left unsaid. Keep your eyes open, my son.”

Hyunjin met her gaze at last, the faintest flicker of unease in his dark eyes. “I will.”

The Duchess gave a satisfied nod, then turned, descending the stairs with unhurried elegance.

Hyunjin remained a moment longer at the landing, staring at the closed door of Felix’s chamber. His mother’s words lingered like smoke in the air.

Trust. Secrets.

The soldier in him knew to heed warnings. But the man in him… could not yet decide what to believe.

Meanwhile in Felix’s chamber, The moment Hyunjin and the Duchess stepped out, a profound silence descended upon the room. Felix remained perfectly still, a silent sentinel on the bed, his gaze fixed on the intricate carvings of the canopy above. The last whispers of their footsteps faded down the long hall, swallowed by the quiet of the manor.

Only then, when the silence was absolute, did the rigid tension leave his body. He let out a long, shuddering breath he hadn't realized he was holding, the fragile mask of ‘Eleanor’ finally falling away.

Martha, who had stood at his side the entire visit, quickly moved closer. She placed a cool cloth against his brow, her eyes studying him with quiet concern.

“My lord,” she whispered—careful to use the title only when they were alone—“you mustn’t worry yourself. It was only a question, nothing more.”

Felix turned his head, amber eyes wide, fever-bright. His voice rasped, hoarse and low. “No, Martha. She knows something.”

Martha stiffened. “The Duchess?”

“Yes.” Felix shut his eyes briefly, his hand tightening over the blanket. “Did you see the way she looked at me? Like she could peel the mask off my face with her eyes alone.”

Martha gently adjusted the shawl over his shoulders. “You’re only fevered, my lord. Her Grace is a sharp woman, yes, but she suspects nothing. If she did, she would not have left so calmly.”

Felix gave a soft, strained laugh. “Calmly? You call that calm? She was watching me the entire time, Martha. Every word you spoke, she weighed. Every silence, she noted.”

His voice broke off in a cough, and he pressed a hand to his lips. Martha quickly fetched a cup of water, holding it for him as he drank.

When he settled back, his lashes trembled against his flushed cheeks. “If she learns the truth…” His words trailed, heavy with the unspoken consequences.

Martha set the cup down firmly, her own voice resolute. “Then we will not let her learn it. You are Lady Eleanor to her eyes, and you must trust that, my lord. You’ve worn this mask since the wedding without flaw. You’ll wear it until it no longer serves.”

Felix turned his face into the pillow, half in exhaustion, half in despair. “…But she is not like the others. She sees too much.”

Martha smoothed back a curl of golden hair damp with sweat. “Then we will be more careful. That is all. Rest now, my lord. Fever makes shadows seem larger than they are.”

Felix said nothing, but his hand lingered in the fabric of his sleeve, gripping lightly like a child clinging to reassurance. His heart, however, would not be soothed.

Because deep down, he knew—Hyejin’s eyes had caught something.

A mistake he could not afford to let slip again.

Felix lay back against the pillows, a prisoner of his own thoughts. His mind was a storm, restless and agitated despite the heat of his fever. He lay in a long, unbroken silence, the quiet doing nothing to soothe the turmoil. Finally, his fingers curled into a fist, clenching the blanket in a silent, resolute grip.

“Martha,” he rasped, his voice low and scratchy, “have you heard anything new… about Eleanor and Winton?”

Martha stilled. “They are safe, my lord. Do not trouble yourself.”

Felix’s eyes opened, faintly fever-bright. “Safe is not enough. Tell me.”

Martha hesitated, then lowered her voice. “The last message reached me three days ago. Lady Eleanor remains at the convent, in quiet seclusion as planned. Winton stays close at her side—he has been posing as her attendant without issue. None have questioned their presence. No news of danger has come.”

Felix let out a slow breath, some of the tension easing in his chest. “Good. That means father hasn’t grown impatient yet.”

But his expression darkened, the crease between his brows deepening. “Still… every day she stays hidden, the risk grows. If the Duchess ever learns there are two Eleanors—”

“She won’t,” Martha interrupted firmly. She adjusted the cloth at his forehead, her tone brisk with the certainty he lacked. “The Duchess may be sharp, but she is not omniscient. Lady Eleanor plays her part, you play yours. As long as both masks remain in place, the truth will not surface.”

Felix gave a humorless smile. “Two masks. Two lives dangling by threads. And all of it bound to Hyunjin.”

Martha bent closer, her eyes steady. “Then we must not let the threads snap.”

Felix shut his eyes again, too weary to argue further, but the unease in his chest did not fade. Winton was clever, loyal. Eleanor was cautious, obedient. Yet secrets always found cracks to slip through.

And Hyejin’s eyes… had already seen too much.

 

The last tremors of the fever finally passed, leaving Felix feeling as fragile as glass but once again whole. The following days slipped by in a quiet, unbroken rhythm, a tranquil lullaby of routine that lulled the household into a serene sense of peace. That stillness, however, shattered in a single, sharp afternoon. A wave of unexpected news, carried on the frantic footsteps of servants, swept through the halls, whispering a name that broke the calm like a stone dropped in a still pond: Duke Lee had arrived.

A tremor of genuine surprise, a rare crack in the façade of his composure, crossed Hyunjin’s face. He greeted his father-in-law with the cold, measured formality that duty demanded, but the Duke’s purpose was quickly and chillingly made clear. He did not ask to speak with Eleanor; he insisted. The request was a command, spoken with the quiet, unyielding authority of a man who was used to his will being done.

Hyunjin’s protests died on his tongue, swallowed by a heavy, unshakeable silence. He knew instinctively that to object would only worsen the matter. He was powerless to refuse a private word between the Duke and his supposed daughter.

The meeting was arranged for the greenhouse, a quiet sanctuary bathed in the afternoon light. It was a space of ironic contradictions, a place of vibrant, living things held captive beneath a cold glass ceiling. Outside, the world was unforgiving and harsh; inside, the air was warm and humid, scented with a hundred floral notes. This isolated, beautiful chamber—where everything was on display, yet protected—was the chosen stage for their most delicate and dangerous conversation.

Felix moved through the hushed corridors of Hwang Manor with Martha at his side, each step a deliberate measure of his careful composure. The face he presented was calm, a perfect, serene mask. Yet, within him, a flicker of unease flared into a cold, sharp dread. It wasn't just a powerful man who waited for him; it was his father.

The heavy air of the manor gave way to a sudden, humid warmth as they entered the greenhouse. Light spilled down from the glass ceiling, catching on motes of dust and casting a gilded glow on the lush, vibrant world within. Vines curled with a life of their own around tall frames, and the air was heavy, almost intoxicating, with the sweet, damp perfume of roses and rich earth.

At the very heart of this enclosed garden, a stern and unyielding figure waited. Duke Lee stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture as rigid and commanding as a statue. His gaze was fixed on the glass panes, his face a hard study in shadow and light as the sun’s last rays caught the surface. He was a silent, looming presence.

And when he turned to look at him, he simply greet. “Felix.”

Felix’s lips curved in a faint, demure smile. “Father.” His voice was soft, precise—the practiced tone of Lady Eleanor.

The Duke’s gaze hardened. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “She has not been found.”

Felix tilted his head, amber eyes innocent, though inside, his pulse quickened. As it should be, he thought grimly. If you knew where she was, my plan to dissolve this marriage would be ruined.

He gave the smallest smile, tilting it into something almost sly. “I suppose some birds are not so easily caged.”

The Duke’s mouth tightened. “Do not jest, Felix.”

The name, spoken sharply, struck like a blade.

Martha’s breath caught, but Felix only lowered his eyes, letting a fleeting smirk ghost his lips. His father’s bluntness was nothing new.

“You must hide yourself well,” Duke Lee said firmly. “The Lancaster household, the court, even the king’s men are watching. One slip, and all is lost.”

Felix’s fingers traced the embroidery of his sleeve, his smile turning faintly mocking. “Yes, yes. Duty. Always duty.”

The Duke’s eyes narrowed. “It is not a word to take lightly.”

“Not lightly?” Felix snapped softly, his amber eyes flashing as he finally raised them to meet his father’s. “If you had gone before the king—if you had rejected his command outright—I would be in my own chamber now. Eleanor would not have run, and I would not be choking on this lie.”

The Duke’s face remained stern, though a shadow of unease flickered there. “You speak as though this was forced upon you. You knew the burden from the start.”

Felix gave a short, bitter laugh. “Burden? It was a game from the start. And tell me, Father—what use is duty when it steals choice, when it steals a future?” He spread his hands in a gesture of mock elegance, the skirts of his gown rustling softly. “Eleanor ran because she didn't want this marriage . And I—I play her part while you sit in your study speaking of honor.”

“Enough.” The Duke’s voice cut like steel. He regained his composure, his gaze hardening into a cold command. “You will endure. It was her part to play, yes. But she ran away. Now, you must step up. As her brother and my oldest son, it is your duty to prevent this family’s reputation from being ruined. Your sister already made it worse by running away the night before her wedding day.”

The silence that followed was heavy and still, broken only by the fragrant air of the roses around them. Felix let out a soft laugh, bitter and sharp, shaking his head.

“You speak of endurance as if that is all life should be,” he said, his voice dropping. “But I will tell you this, Father—I don’t know what game you play, what bargain you seek with the king. But this marriage will not last.”

The Duke’s eyes snapped to him, cold and cutting.

Felix stepped closer, his words edged with defiance. “I will do whatever it takes to dissolve it. Eleanor deserves to marry the one she loves. And I—” his hand brushed the skirts of the gown, his lips curling into a mocking smile—“I will endure this charade only until I find the way to end it.”

For a long moment, his father said nothing. The silence pressed, heavy as stone. Slowly, the Duke’s expression shifted—his lips thinning, his eyes darkening with something Felix had never seen before.

“You forget yourself,” Duke Lee said quietly, dangerously. “This union is sanctioned by the crown. You defy not only me, but the king himself.”

Felix’s smile faltered, but he held his ground. “Even so. I will not let Eleanor’s life be shackled by your endless duty. You wouldn’t dare stop me.”

The Duke stepped closer, so near Felix could see the faint scars at his temple, the iron lines of his face. His voice dropped to a low, deliberate growl.

“Try me.”

Felix’s breath caught. For a moment, he could only stare, stunned. He had always known his father to be stern, unyielding. But this—this open threat, sharp as a blade—was something else entirely.

“You… you would threaten your own child?” he whispered, the words catching in his throat.

The Duke’s gaze did not waver. “I will do whatever must be done. For the Lee family. For my reputation.”

Felix stood frozen, the weight of the words crushing him. His fingers trembled slightly against the folds of his gown, though he forced his chin high.

“Then you are not a father,” he said softly, almost to himself. “You are only the word you worship.”

The Duke gave no reply. He simply turned and strode from the greenhouse, his footsteps echoing against the stone path.

Felix was left alone among the roses, their scent suddenly suffocating. His mocking smile faded, leaving only the bitterness beneath. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart pound. The world seemed to tilt, and for the first time in years, he wondered if even his cunning would be enough against the man who had raised him.

Father… or enemy? The thought chilled him.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin had kept to the garden, a silent sentinel pacing slowly between the trimmed hedges and fountains. From where he stood, he could just see the domed roof of the greenhouse, a glass bubble shimmering under the late afternoon light. It was not his way to intrude. If Duke Lee wished for private words with his daughter, he would grant it. Yet he lingered, a dutiful shadow present enough to be a silent guard, far enough not to overhear.

At last, the glass doors of the greenhouse swung open. The Duke emerged, alone. His face was a mask of stone, unreadable, though something in the set of his shoulders struck Hyunjin as heavier, as if he carried a new and unwelcome weight. Hyunjin stepped forward, ready to announce that the carriage he had ordered for his father-in-law was prepared. But before he could speak, the Duke’s voice, a low and sudden command, cut across the path.

“I will dine with you before I depart.”

Hyunjin paused, taken aback for only a breath, before inclining his head. “Of course, Father-in-law.” He gestured lightly, and Hoon appeared from the shadow of the manor doors, bowing low. “Escort His Grace to the dining hall. See that all is prepared at once.”

“Yes, my lord,” Hoon answered, guiding the Duke toward the manor’s entrance.

Hyunjin remained where he was for a moment, his gaze drifting back to the greenhouse. The sunlight caught in the glass, throwing fractured beams of gold across the garden path. If the Duke had come out alone… then Eleanor still lingered within.

A subtle furrow deepened his brows. He turned, his stride steady and purposeful, and made his way toward the greenhouse doors. He did not know what had transpired within, but a sudden, unfamiliar need to see her, to see for himself that she was unharmed, urged him forward.

Inside, the heavy scent of roses pressed against him, mingling with the damp earth and warm air. And there, amid the deep greenery, she stood. She was still, but her composure was a fragile thing; her fingers trembled faintly against the folds of her gown. Her chin lifted at once when she heard his step, and her amber eyes flickered toward him, bright yet unreadable.

“Eleanor,” Hyunjin said softly, his tone even as ever. “Your father wishes to dine with us before his departure.”

Hyunjin’s steady voice brought Felix back from the whirlwind of his thoughts. He smoothed his gown with deliberate calm, gathering the shattered edges of his composure.

“I will not let you win,” he whispered, his voice a ghost of a sound too soft for Hyunjin to hear. On his face, the flawless mask of Lady Eleanor settled once more, a faint, serene smile gracing his lips.

By the time they reached the dining hall, Felix was the picture of composure. He entered with quiet grace, every step measured, every gesture a testament to elegant calm. To anyone looking, he seemed untouched, as serene and unruffled as a still pond.

Duke Lee rose when they arrived, his face a stern mask of courtesy. “Daughter. Son-in-law.”

Felix curtsied lightly, her–his– voice smooth and unshaken. “Father. I am glad you are able to join us.”

From the corner of his eye, Hyunjin studied her. Only moments ago, in the greenhouse, she had been still but visibly shaken. Now she moved as though nothing at all had transpired. He said nothing, but a thought took root in his mind: she hides it well.

Dinner was served, the table a glittering landscape of silver and crystal. Conversation flowed politely—a sterile stream of talk about politics, court matters, and the king’s latest decrees. The Duke spoke with the calm, weighty authority of a man long used to being obeyed. Felix listened, responding at precise intervals with the practiced grace of a duchess.

But beneath the civility, a quiet war raged. When the Duke spoke of duty, Felix’s smile grew faintly brighter, a brittle thing, though his amber eyes glimmered with something sharper. When Felix replied with practiced courtesy, the Duke’s gaze lingered, a shadow of warning beneath his calm. Neither said a word of the greenhouse, yet the air between them was taut as a drawn bowstring.

Hyunjin, seated at the head of the table, let his gaze drift between them. His father-in-law was composed, his wife serene. Too serene. He could not name it, but something had passed between them. Something unspoken, heavy, concealed behind their flawless smiles.

At last, when the final course was cleared and the wine cups drained, the Duke set his napkin aside and rose.

“My carriage will be ready,” he said. “Thank you for your table.” His eyes flicked briefly toward Felix, unreadable. “Eleanor. Be well.”

Felix dipped his head, his smile still utterly flawless. “Safe travels, Father.”

Only when the Duke’s footsteps faded into silence and the great doors closed behind him did Felix allow the smile to slip from his lips, his hand tightening on the tablecloth beneath the table. Hyunjin caught the motion, the faint tremor of her fingers. He did not speak of it—not yet—but his dark eyes lingered on her a moment longer than they should have.

Felix straightened, his mask settling once more, as though nothing at all had happened. But inside, the words still burned, a silent vow: I will not let you win.

 

Later on, the manor had grown quiet after the Duke’s departure. Servants cleared the dining hall, the echo of footsteps fading into silence.

Hyunjin walked with Felix through the corridor, the golden sconces flickering against the polished walls. She moved gracefully at his side, her face calm as ever, but his eyes lingered on the faint tightness in her jaw, the way her hands folded too neatly in front of her.

When they reached the turn for their separate chambers, Hyunjin spoke.

“Eleanor.”

Felix paused, glancing back at him. Amber eyes calm, unreadable. “Yes, my lord?”

Hyunjin studied her for a long moment. His voice, when it came, was low, steady. “Earlier. In the greenhouse. Did something pass between you and your father?”

For the briefest moment, Felix’s composure wavered. A flicker in his eyes, a catch of breath. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced with a serene smile.

“Nothing of weight,” he said softly. “Only… family matters. Nothing for you to trouble yourself with.”

Hyunjin’s gaze did not move, his expression unreadable. “…Family matters.”

Felix inclined his head. “Yes. Families have their differences, my lord. But it is nothing to concern Lancaster with.”

Silence stretched, the words hanging between them. Hyunjin’s eyes searched her face, as though he might pierce through the mask. But Felix met his gaze calmly, without flinching.

At last, Hyunjin gave a slow nod. “Very well.”

He stepped back, inclining his head in formal courtesy. “Rest well tonight, Eleanor.”

“And you,” Felix answered smoothly, bowing just enough before retreating toward his chamber.

Only when the door shut behind him did he allow his smile to drop, his back pressing against the wood. His chest ached with the weight of his father’s words, the threat still echoing in his ears.

Family matters, he had said. But in truth, it was war.

 

Chapter Text

A day later, Hwang Manor stirred with greater energy than usual. Servants hurried through the halls, carrying trunks and garments, while Martha fussed over fabrics and jewels. Even Hoon’s voice carried more urgency as he ensured the carriage would be ready before dusk.

Tonight was no ordinary gathering.

It was the King’s birthday.

The grandest ballroom in the royal castle would blaze with light, filled with nobles from every corner of the realm — dukes and duchesses, barons and lords, military heroes and political schemers. It was not only a celebration but a display of loyalty, power, and place in the hierarchy.

Hyunjin stood before his chamber mirror as Hoon adjusted the fine cut of his coat. He wore black trimmed with gold, the colors of Lancaster, his figure tall and severe as any general at inspection. His dark hair was combed neatly back, and at his breast gleamed the insignia of his rank, a silent reminder of the war he had won.

He looked every inch the Duke of Lancaster. And yet his mind strayed  —not to the king, nor to the nobles who would bow tonight — but to Eleanor.

She would be the one the court would watch most closely. She was Lancaster’s new duchess, Lady Eleanor Lee, daughter of a powerful house. Every eye would weigh her grace, her composure, her suitability as his wife. And Hyunjin… he could not quite say why, but he found himself uneasy on her behalf.

In her own chamber, Felix stood still as Martha fastened the final pearl clasp at the back of his gown. The fabric was of deep sapphire silk, flowing like water, the skirt edged with silver embroidery that caught the candlelight with every movement. A necklace of sapphires rested at his throat, borrowed from the Lancaster vaults, while a delicate veil of gossamer shimmered faintly over golden curls.

“You look radiant, my lord,” Martha said softly, stepping back.

Felix turned to the mirror. For a moment, he almost believed the reflection — an elegant duchess, serene and flawless. But beneath the gown and jewels, the bitterness curled still.

Radiant mask. Hollow truth.

He smoothed his skirt, amber eyes sharpening. “Martha,” he murmured, “tonight is no simple celebration. Every family will be watching. Every whisper will carry weight.”

Martha bowed her head. “And you will give them nothing to doubt, my lord. You always do.”

Felix let out a soft, humorless laugh. “Let us hope.”

The manor’s courtyard was alive with lantern light when Felix descended the grand staircase. Hyunjin waited below, tall and unyielding in his dark coat. For a heartbeat, he stilled, his eyes flicking upward as he approached.

Felix moved with quiet grace, every step measured. When he reached the final stair, Hyunjin extended his hand. Felix placed his fingers lightly against his palm, their eyes meeting only for a brief moment.

“Shall we?” Hyunjin asked, his tone calm but his gaze unreadable.

Felix inclined his head, the perfect duchess once more.

The carriage doors closed behind them, the wheels beginning to turn. Outside, the streets glowed with the light of torches, nobles’ carriages filling the road, all bound for the same destination.

The castle awaited.

 

The royal castle glowed against the night sky, every window ablaze with golden light. Carriages lined the cobbled courtyard, their lanterns flickering as nobles stepped down in silks and jewels, laughter and voices carrying into the crisp air.

The Lancaster carriage rolled to a stop at the foot of the marble steps. A herald’s voice rang out above the crowd, sharp and clear.

“His Grace, Duke Hyunjin of Lancaster. Her Grace, Duchess Eleanor of Lancaster.”

All heads turned.

Hyunjin descended first, tall and commanding in black trimmed with gold, his steps steady as a soldier’s march. He turned and extended his hand. Felix placed his gloved fingers in his palm and stepped down, the sapphire gown flowing like liquid night, silver embroidery glimmering beneath the lanterns.

A collective murmur rippled through the courtyard.

“That is Lancaster’s new duchess…”
“Beautiful… she seems almost unreal.”
“Lancaster chose well. Look at the grace in her step.”
“…But they say she rarely speaks in public.”

Felix heard the whispers but betrayed nothing. His amber eyes remained calm, his lips curved in a serene smile. Hyunjin’s dark gaze swept over the crowd, cold and steady, a silent warning against lingering too close.

Arm in arm, they ascended the marble staircase and entered the great ballroom.

 

The hall was a sea of brilliance. Chandeliers blazed overhead, thousands of crystals scattering light across gilded walls. Musicians played from the gallery, violins and flutes weaving soft music through the air. Long tables groaned under silver platters of roasted meats, fruits, and delicacies, while nobles in every shade of jewel-toned silk mingled and bowed.

Yet as the Lancasters entered, the music seemed to hush.

The crowd parted almost instinctively, creating a path toward the dais where the King sat upon his throne, a golden crown gleaming above his brow. His robe was trimmed with ermine, his scepter resting casually against his knee as he surveyed the hall with a mixture of authority and ease.

Hyunjin and Felix moved forward, each step measured. Hyunjin’s face was composed, while Felix’s smile remained flawless, though his heart beat hard beneath the sapphire silk. Every gaze followed them. Every whisper pricked at his ears.

At last, they reached the dais. Hyunjin bowed low with perfect precision. Felix curtsied, skirts fanning elegantly, his head bowed with grace.

“Your Majesty,” Hyunjin said, his voice deep and steady, carrying easily through the hall. “Lancaster pays its respects, and wishes you long life and prosperity.”

Felix added softly, his tone delicate and clear, “It is an honor to celebrate this day in your presence, Your Majesty.”

The King leaned forward, a smile curving his lips. His gaze fell first on Hyunjin, pride flickering there — this was the man who had secured victory in war, now standing before him as Duke. Then his eyes shifted to Felix, and for a long moment he studied the duchess.

“So this,” the King said at last, his voice warm but carrying the weight of command, “is the Lancaster bride.”

Felix lifted his gaze just enough to meet the King’s eyes, amber against gold. His smile never faltered, though his pulse quickened.

“She is as radiant as the court whispers claim,” the King said, satisfaction in his tone. “Rise, both of you. Tonight, you are not soldiers or masks of duty — you are honored guests in my hall.”

Hyunjin and Felix rose together. The King gestured broadly, and the music swelled once more, filling the silence with renewed grandeur.

“Come,” the King said with a faint smile. “Let the realm see the strength of Lancaster united.”

The nobles bowed as the Duke and Duchess of Lancaster stepped back into the light of the ballroom — watched, measured, and weighed by every eye in the hall.

The music swirled as nobles drifted nearer, eager to greet the King’s favored duke and his mysterious new bride.

The first to approach was Duke Lee. He bowed formally, his face a mask of stern courtesy. “Your Majesty, forgive me for intruding,” he said with a glance at the dais, before turning to Hyunjin and Felix.

“Son-in-law.” His voice was calm, practiced. “Daughter.”

Felix dipped into a graceful curtsy, her smile flawless. “Father.”

Hyunjin inclined his head. “Father-in-law.”

It was all politeness, nothing more. No trace of the sharp words exchanged in the greenhouse. Felix held her mask perfectly, her amber eyes calm as still water. Only Martha, watching closely, noticed the faint tension in Felix’s hand as it brushed the folds of his gown.

Next came Christopher.

He moved with a confident air, his dark eyes glinting as he bowed low, though the curve of his mouth held more edge than warmth. “Your Graces,” he said smoothly, “what an honor it is to see the Duke and Duchess of Lancaster tonight.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened, though his reply was steady. “Christopher.”

“Duke Bang,” Felix added softly, her voice even, though the memory of his hand reaching for her necklace still pricked at her skin.

Christopher’s gaze lingered a moment too long, his smile thin. “May this evening be the start of better fortunes between our houses.”

Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed faintly, but before more could be said, another noble approached with an eager bow. Christopher offered a curt nod and slipped back into the crowd.

“Your Grace,” the newcomer said, bowing low to Hyunjin, “I wonder if I might have a word regarding the border garrisons.”

Hyunjin inclined his head. “Of course.”

He turned briefly to Felix, his voice low but courteous. “Eleanor, I’ll return shortly.”

Felix offered him a serene nod, her smile perfectly in place. “As you wish, my lord.”

And then Hyunjin was gone, swallowed into a circle of nobles.

Felix exhaled softly, his smile slipping just for a moment before he composed himself again. Martha stood close by, a reassuring presence.

But then a small tug at his skirts made Felix glance down.

A boy no older than three stood there, his golden curls messy, his wide brown eyes blinking up at him in open wonder. He clutched a little wooden horse in one hand, his other hand reaching insistently for Felix.

Felix blinked. “…Oh.”

The child giggled and lifted his arms, demanding silently to be held.

Felix’s amber eyes widened. “Martha,” he whispered under his breath, “what do I do?”

Martha’s lips twitched with amusement. “He seems to want you to pick him up, my lord.”

“I —” Felix froze, panic flickering across his perfect mask. “I don’t— Martha, help me.”

But the boy whined softly, tugging harder at her gown. A few nobles nearby glanced over, curious smiles on their lips. Felix felt the weight of their eyes and, with no choice left, bent down and lifted the child carefully into his arms.

The boy immediately nestled against him, chattering nonsense and patting Felix’s necklace with tiny fingers.

Felix stiffened at first, utterly uncertain, but then — almost instinctively — his arms shifted to cradle the boy more securely. He swayed slightly, murmuring, “There now… it’s all right.”

To his own surprise, the child quieted, pressing his face against Felix’s shoulder with a content little sigh.

Martha’s eyes softened. “See? You’re doing just fine, my lord.”

Felix shot her a look that was half exasperation, half disbelief, but he dared not move. When he tried, the boy clung tighter, whining softly.

Felix sighed, amber eyes flicking upward in defeat. “…Martha. Help me.”

But the boy only snuggled closer, and Felix — who had never once handled a child — found himself holding him as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

And across the ballroom, more than one noble noticed. Whispers began anew:

“Lancaster’s duchess is so gentle with children…”
“She will make a fine mother.”
“Truly blessed, that household.”

Felix smiled faintly, though inside he wanted to laugh at the absurdity.

Yet even as the thought crossed his mind, he felt the little weight in his arms and the warmth of tiny hands against his shoulder — and found, to his shock, that he didn’t hate it.

Felix shifted uneasily, the boy nestled against his shoulder with surprising trust. Martha stood close, hiding a small smile behind her hand. Felix whispered to her again, exasperated but careful not to break his calm mask.

“Martha. He won’t let go.”

“You’re doing well, my lord,” she murmured.

Felix sighed, glancing around in silent plea for rescue. But the nobles nearby only watched with approval, their whispers carrying on the music.

And then—

“Eleanor.”

Felix froze, the familiar voice cutting through the hum of the ballroom. He turned his head slightly.

Hyunjin stood only a few steps away, tall and severe as ever, but his dark eyes lingered on the small boy clinging to Felix’s shoulder. For once, his composure faltered — surprise flickered across his face.

The Duke of Lancaster, hero of war, seemed at a loss.

Felix swallowed, shifting the child gently. “He… wouldn’t let me go,” he said softly, voice calm but eyes faintly pleading.

The boy stirred then, lifting his head just enough to peer at Hyunjin before burying his face deeper into Felix’s neck with a whine. Felix stiffened. Martha nearly laughed aloud.

For a long moment, Hyunjin simply stared — the duchess in sapphire silk, cradling a child with a gentleness that seemed far too natural. The sight unsettled him in ways he could not name.

At last, he stepped closer, his voice quieter than usual. “You… are good with him.”

Felix blinked, startled, then quickly curved his lips into a serene smile. “Am I?”

The boy shifted again, little hands patting Felix’s necklace, giggling softly. Felix adjusted his hold instinctively, steady and sure, though his amber eyes betrayed the faintest panic.

Hyunjin’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly, though his tone remained even. “It suits you.”

Felix felt his heart lurch — half with dread, half with something he dared not name.

The nobles watching nearby whispered all the louder:

“Such tenderness… Lancaster is fortunate indeed.”
“She will be a wonderful mother.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened at the words, though he said nothing. He only reached out and brushed his hand lightly against Felix’s arm.

“Shall I take him?” he offered.

Felix hesitated, then shook his head faintly, lips curving. “No… I will manage.”

Hyunjin studied her–him–a moment longer, his dark eyes searching. Then he nodded once, stepping back, though his gaze lingered still.

And so the Duchess of Lancaster remained at the heart of the ballroom, cradling a child with unexpected ease — masking dread beneath serenity, while the Duke of Lancaster looked on, silent and watchful.

Felix shifted again, attempting to ease the boy from his arms, but the child clung tighter, burying his face in the folds of sapphire silk. His small hands clutched at the gown with surprising strength.

“Martha,” Felix whispered, his smile still in place, “he really won’t let go.”

Before Martha could reply, a voice broke through the crowd.

“My apologies, Your Grace!”

A lady in pale lavender swept forward, bowing low. At her side, a tall man in a finely cut coat hurried to match her pace. They both looked flustered but deferential.

“The boy is ours,” the gentleman explained, his voice tinged with embarrassment. “Our son — Julian. He must have wandered off while we greeted the Earl of Dean.”

Felix’s amber eyes flicked from the parents to the boy, still nestled stubbornly against his shoulder. He offered them a serene smile. “He found his way to me.”

“Julian,” the lady coaxed gently, reaching to take him, “come to Mama, darling.”

But the boy whined, clutching tighter to Felix’s gown. “No! Stay!”

Felix froze, the smile still fixed on his lips though panic flickered in his eyes. “Oh… dear.”

Hyunjin’s lips twitched, the faintest curve of something that might have been amusement — or surprise.

The Countess flushed. “I am terribly sorry, Your Grace. He’s never taken to a stranger so quickly before.”

Felix adjusted his hold instinctively, patting the boy’s back. “He is no trouble,” he said softly, his voice calm though his amber eyes shot a quick, desperate glance at Martha. Help me.

The boy, oblivious to all, giggled and tugged at the sapphire necklace around Felix’s throat. “Pretty!”

Felix caught his hand gently, returning the pearls to safety. “Yes… pretty,” he echoed faintly.

As the Earl and Countess tried again, but it looked like their son had no tension to let go of him. “It seems he has no intention of letting me go anytime soon,” Felix said, a hint of amusement in his voice as the boy's grip remained firm.

The Earl and Countess exchanged a look of shared helplessness. “If he insists,” the Countess began, her voice filled with a sincere apology, “perhaps… perhaps he may stay with you for a while, Your Grace? We would be most honored.”

Felix opened his mouth, then shut it again, his polite smile unwavering. “…Of course.”

Martha’s eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter. Hyunjin, beside her, studied Felix quietly — his cold composure softening in a way few had ever seen.

The music swelled, the herald announcing the opening of the first dance. Nobles parted to clear the center of the floor, all eyes turning expectantly to the Duke and Duchess of Lancaster.

Felix’s stomach twisted. The child still clung to him, his arms wrapped tight around Felix’s neck.

Martha leaned closer, whispering, “My lord — he’s not letting go.”

Felix kept his serene smile plastered on, his voice low and tight. “I have never held a child in my life. How am I meant to dance with one?”

The boy only nestled closer, giggling happily, utterly unwilling to be parted.

And across the hall, nobles whispered with delight:

“Look how the Duchess cradles him —so gentle.”
“She must have the heart of a mother already.”
“Truly, Lancaster is blessed.”

Felix wanted to groan aloud. Instead, he smoothed the child’s curls with elegant calm, amber eyes cool as glass. Mask, Felix. Mask. If you fall now, everything unravels.

Hyunjin extended his hand, his dark eyes fixed on Felix. There was no mockery in them — only a strange, steady warmth.

“Shall we?” he asked softly.

Felix hesitated, the boy nestled against him, the eyes of the court burning like fire. Then he set his free hand lightly in Hyunjin’s.

“Yes,” he said with perfect grace. “We shall.”

Then the herald’s voice rang out

“The Duke and Duchess of Lancaster shall open the first dance!”

The music shifted, swelling into a graceful waltz. Nobles lined the edges of the polished floor, all eyes fixed on the couple in the center.

Hyunjin offered his hand once more. Felix, sapphire skirts flowing, placed his gloved fingers lightly against his palm. In his other arm, little Julian clung like ivy, refusing to budge.

The boy’s curls brushed Felix’s cheek as he tucked himself closer, utterly content. Felix’s amber eyes flicked desperately toward Martha at the edge of the crowd. Help me.

Martha only pressed her lips together, shoulders shaking with contained laughter.

Hyunjin’s dark gaze met Felix’s, steady and unreadable. “…We will manage.”

Felix arched his brow faintly. “We?”

Hyunjin’s lips curved, the smallest hint of a smirk. “Do you doubt me, Eleanor?”

Felix let out a faint, tight laugh. “I doubt the boy’s cooperation more than yours, my lord.”

The music beckoned. Hyunjin drew Felix closer, his hand firm at his waist, guiding him into the first turn. The child nestled between them, clinging tighter as the movement swayed.

Felix stiffened, then adjusted automatically, cradling Julian with one arm while keeping the other poised in Hyunjin’s hand. To anyone watching, it seemed effortless — a duchess gliding across the floor with her duke, child in arms, a picture of maternal grace.

The nobles melted in whispers once again.

“Look at her, even with a child — flawless.”
“She dances as though she were born to it.”
“The Duke must be proud beyond words.”

Felix wanted to scream.

But Hyunjin’s steady hand anchored him, guiding each step with precision. The waltz carried them across the polished marble, the child’s giggles mingling with the music. For all Felix’s inner panic, his movements were sure, graceful, natural — more convincing than any mask he had worn yet.

And Hyunjin… watched.

Not the crowd, not the king, but Felix as Eleanor. The serene tilt of her head, the way her amber eyes softened as the boy’s tiny fingers tugged playfully at her necklace. The smile that flickered — not the polished courtly one, but something warmer, unguarded — for the briefest of moments.

Hyunjin’s chest tightened with an unfamiliar pang.

The waltz slowed, the final notes echoing into silence. Felix curtsied as best he could with the boy in his arms, Hyunjin bowing low beside her. Applause erupted around them, the nobles clapping with delight.

Julian clapped too, his little hands smacking against Felix’s shoulder with glee.

Felix’s amber eyes slid to Hyunjin’s. For once, both were caught — embarrassed, bewildered, and strangely bound in the absurd intimacy of the moment.

Felix murmured through his smile, so only Hyunjin could hear. “If you laugh, I’ll never forgive you.”

Hyunjin’s lips curved faintly, but he said nothing.

The applause rang on, the court enchanted by the image of Lancaster united: the warrior duke, his radiant duchess, and the child clinging stubbornly between them.

And Felix thought, with dry despair — I am going to strangle Martha later.

As the applause faded, the Earl and Countess hurried forward, bowing deeply.

“Your Graces, forgive us again,” the Countess said breathlessly, though her eyes shone with gratitude. “Julian has never taken to anyone so quickly before. We cannot thank you enough for your kindness.”

Felix kept the serene smile fixed on his lips, though his arms ached from holding the boy through the entire waltz. “He was no trouble at all,” he said softly, brushing a curl from Julian’s forehead.

“Darling,” the Countess coaxed, reaching for her son, “come to Mama now.”

This time, perhaps sensing the end of the adventure, Julian loosened his grip. He squirmed reluctantly into his mother’s arms, still looking back over her shoulder at Felix with wide, adoring eyes.

Felix exhaled quietly, relief flickering across his features before he smoothed them again into grace. He adjusted the folds of his gown, hiding the faint tremor of exhaustion in his hands.

The Earl bowed again, his voice warm. “The Duchess of Lancaster has a gift. We are honored that our son found such comfort with you.”

Felix inclined his head, his amber eyes calm. “Children are blessings, my lord. It was… an honor.”

The Countess smiled, curtsying deeply. “Truly, the future of Lancaster will be blessed as well.”

At that, Felix’s smile faltered for only a fraction of a second before he caught himself. The Countess did not notice. Hyunjin did.

The Earl and Countess withdrew, Julian still waving a chubby hand toward Felix as he was carried off.

Martha stepped closer, whispering just low enough for Felix to hear, her eyes sparkling. “You did wonderfully, my lord. No one will ever doubt your gentleness now.”

Felix’s amber eyes shot her a sharp look that promised vengeance later.

Hyunjin, beside him, bent his head slightly. His voice was low, so only Felix caught it. “You surprised me.”

Felix blinked, his practiced smile curving faintly. “Surprised you?”

Hyunjin’s gaze lingered on him. “Yes. You were… natural. As though you had done it many times before.”

Felix let out a soft laugh, hiding the bitterness beneath. “Perhaps I am simply a better actress than I thought.”

Hyunjin said nothing, but his dark eyes remained fixed on him for a moment longer before he finally looked away.

As the Earl and Countess had only just withdrawn with their son when a voice rose above the murmur of the crowd, rich and commanding:

“Ah… Lancaster.”

The music hushed. Nobles bowed as the King himself descended from the dais, his robe trailing like molten gold. His sharp gaze swept over the hall before settling on Hyunjin and Felix.

“I could not help but notice,” he said, a faint smile tugging his lips, “how naturally the Duchess of Lancaster takes to children.”

Felix’s amber eyes widened faintly, though he quickly composed himself, dipping into a graceful curtsy. “Your Majesty is too kind. It was only a moment’s chance.”

The King’s smile deepened. “Chance, perhaps —but telling. The boy would not leave you, and you held him as though he were your own.”

A ripple of whispers spread through the nobles. Their own… heirs…

Felix’s stomach twisted. His lips curved in the serene mask, but beneath it his thoughts churned: If only they knew. If only they knew the truth.

Hyunjin stepped forward smoothly, bowing low. “Your Majesty, the child was drawn by her grace. Eleanor has always shown such gentleness.”

Felix shot him a sideways glance–gentleness? Really?–but said nothing.

The King chuckled, his voice carrying easily across the ballroom. “Then Lancaster will not be long without its next generation.”

The words struck like a bell. Nobles murmured, smiling, whispering in eager tones:

“Did you hear? The King himself…”
“He expects an heir soon.”
“How fortunate, how blessed.”

Felix’s face flushed hot beneath the mask, his chest tightening. He lowered his gaze, hiding behind the veil of his lashes.

Beside him, Hyunjin stood stiff, his jaw taut, a faint flush at his ears. For once, the Duke of Lancaster had no ready reply.

The King laughed lightly, waving a hand. “Do not look so startled. It is only natural. Tonight we celebrate life, and the future of the realm depends on families such as yours.”

Felix forced a smile, the perfect duchess once more, though his hand clenched the folds of his gown so tightly Martha nearly stepped forward to steady him.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Felix said softly, his voice smooth despite the storm within. “We shall not forget our duty.”

The King’s eyes glimmered with satisfaction. “Good. Very good.” He lifted his goblet high. “To Lancaster!”

The hall erupted in cheers, glasses raised, voices echoing the name.

Felix bowed her head gracefully, but inside, his thoughts raged like fire: Duty, duty, duty. Always duty.

And Hyunjin, though he bowed beside him, felt the weight of it too — the King’s expectation now hanging heavy over them both.

 

The music lingered, soft and lilting, as the ballroom began to thin. Nobles exchanged farewells, carriages were called for… and then the news swept through the hall like a chill.

A storm.

Snow falling thick and fast, burying the roads in white. The courtyard clogged, the pathways treacherous. The king’s steward, pale and apologetic, announced what many had already suspected:

“No carriage may leave the castle until the storm breaks. His Majesty bids you remain within these walls for the night.”

Whispers flurried as quickly as the snow outside. Some nobles laughed it off, others fretted over their households. Servants hurried to prepare chambers for the stranded guests.

Felix stood with Hyunjin at the edge of the ballroom, amber eyes darting toward the windows where frost bloomed against the glass. His heart clenched tight. Staying here was already a risk. Sharing a chamber…

Martha leaned close, whispering, “My lord — it cannot be helped. You will survive the night, my lord.”

Felix’s hand tightened around the folds of his gown. Easier said than done.

Later, after the farewells of the night had dulled, a steward guided them down a quiet corridor of the castle’s guest wing.

“This way, Your Graces,” the man said with a bow. “Due to the number of guests, we regret we have only one chamber suited to your rank.”

Hyunjin inclined his head calmly. “We understand.”

Felix forced a serene smile. “Of course.”

But inside, panic roared. One chamber. One bed. One night too close to ruin everything.

The steward opened the door. Warmth spilled out from a great hearth, casting shadows across velvet drapes and a massive bed carved of dark oak. The firelight made the room glow golden, intimate, inescapable.

Felix stepped inside, skirts whispering against the rug. Hyunjin followed, his presence filling the space with quiet authority. The steward bowed and withdrew, leaving only silence — and the crackle of the fire.

For a long moment, neither spoke.

Then Hyunjin broke it, his tone even, practical. “It is only one night. You needn’t worry — I am accustomed to soldiers’ tents. Sharing a bed will not trouble me.”

Felix turned, forcing a smile. “Nor me.”

But his chest thudded with dread. His disguise had held so far, but never under such close watch. If Hyunjin noticed the smallest slip… the game would be over.

He moved toward the dressing screen, Martha trailing close behind. “Martha will help me prepare,” Felix said smoothly. “Rest as you wish, my lord.”

Hyunjin inclined his head, already removing his coat with soldier’s precision, though his eyes lingered briefly on Felix’s retreating form.

Behind the heavy oak door of the chamber’s bathing room, Martha tugged carefully at the laces of Felix’s gown, her fingers deft despite his restless fidgeting.

The sapphire silk slipped from his shoulders, pooling at his feet in a whisper of fabric. Felix stood in his linen shift, arms wrapped tightly across his chest, his amber eyes wide with agitation.

“Martha,” he hissed in a sharp whisper, “how am I supposed to sleep tonight? He’s out there. In that bed. With me.”

Martha calmly folded the gown, her expression maddeningly serene. “It is only one night, my lord.”

“One night too many!” Felix pressed his palms against his face, muffling a groan. “The King himself said it — he expects an heir. And all those nobles, their whispers, their smiles —” His voice broke into a low, furious laugh. “They all look at me as if I already carry Lancaster’s future in my belly!”

Martha stilled, her eyes softening.

Felix dropped his hands, staring at his reflection in the polished mirror. His voice lowered, raw and sharp. “But I cannot give him that. I cannot give him anything. Because I am not Eleanor, I am not a woman, I do not have a womb to bear a child at all.”

The words cracked like glass, his amber eyes burning with a rare, unmasked bitterness.

Martha touched his arm gently. “My lord…”

He shook his head, biting down hard on the edge of his lip. “I need to undo this marriage, Martha. Somehow. Before the truth unravels itself. But it must be done carefully — if the King thinks Lancaster has been deceived, he’ll have my head on a spike before sunrise.”

His fists clenched tight at his sides. “I need a plan. A way that spares Eleanor, spares me, and spares Lancaster from disgrace. Something that will dissolve this cursed union without touching the King’s pride.”

Martha, quiet, finished folding the gown and set it aside. Her voice was low, firm. “Then you must wait, my lord. Watch. Listen. Find the right opening. There will be a way — but not if you lose yourself to panic.”

Felix let out a sharp breath, amber eyes flicking to the door, beyond which Hyunjin no doubt readied himself for sleep with soldier’s calm. “You don’t understand. Every day I keep this secret, the noose tightens. And now…” He laughed bitterly. “Now I must lie beside him, while the court dreams of children that can never exist.”

Martha took his hands, steadying them. “Then lie beside him. Just this once. Morning will come, as it always does.”

Felix pressed his lips together, nodding faintly, though his heart still pounded like a trapped bird in his chest.

Morning will come. It has to.

After a while, the bathing room door creaked open. Felix stepped out, steam curling faintly around him, the thin nightgown clinging softly to his frame. His golden hair spilled loose down his back, glimmering in the firelight.

He froze.

Hyunjin stood at the edge of the bed, coat and vest already set aside, his shirt unbuttoned halfway. In the glow of the hearth, the fabric fell open enough to reveal the scars cut deep into his chest and ribs — marks carved by war, a brutal map of battles survived.

For a heartbeat, neither moved.

Felix’s amber eyes widened, caught between fascination and a sharp pang he hadn’t expected. So many scars… He had heard of Hyunjin’s victories, of the war that had ended with him, but seeing it written on his skin was different. Raw. Human.

Hyunjin looked up. Their eyes locked.

The air between them thickened, heavy with unspoken things.

Felix’s mind screamed Shit. I’m supposed to be shy around men.

Heat rushed to his cheeks, and he averted his gaze quickly, clutching at the loose fall of his hair as though to shield himself. “Forgive me,” he murmured, voice carefully pitched softer, almost flustered. “I did not mean to intrude.”

Hyunjin’s expression did not waver, but something flickered faintly in his dark eyes before he inclined his head. “It is nothing,” he said quietly. “Scars are the cost of duty. Nothing more.”

He gathered his towel and stepped toward the bathing room, his presence brushing close as he passed Felix. The faint scent of steel and leather clung to him still, mingled with the heat of the fire.

For a breathless moment, Felix thought Hyunjin might pause beside him, might say more — but he didn’t. He disappeared into the bathing room with a quiet click of the door.

Felix exhaled shakily, turning toward the hearth. He sank onto the edge of the bed, fingers twisting in the folds of the nightgown. The firelight licked over his bare shoulders, catching in his golden hair.

He knew he looked every bit the part now: the soft, fragile bride, waiting in a nightdress with hair loose like spun sunlight.

But inside, his heart thundered with panic. How am I supposed to survive this night?

Inside the bathing room steam curled thick. Hyunjin lowered himself into the water, the heat searing across old wounds, soothing muscles hardened by years of war. He rested his arms along the tub’s edges, staring at the wavering reflection of his scars.

For years, they had been medals more than marks — proof of battles fought, proof of his worth to king and country. He had never cared how they looked to others. But tonight…

His mind drifted unbidden to the moment at the doorway. Eleanor — his duchess — standing in the firelight, hair unbound in a cascade of gold, nightgown soft against pale skin. The way her amber eyes had caught on his chest, widening just so, before darting away with shy haste.

He exhaled slowly, sinking deeper into the water. He had not meant to unsettle her. And yet…

There had been something raw in her gaze, something that stirred unease in him. Not fear —something else. Something he could not quite name.

She wears masks as surely as I wear armor, he thought. But what lies beneath hers?

The question lingered as he finished bathing, dressing into a simple linen shirt. He tied the laces loose at the throat, the firelight softening the stark map of scars that refused to be hidden.

Back in the chamber, Felix sat curled at the edge of the massive bed, hair spilling over his shoulders, fingers twisting restlessly in the sheets. His heart skipped when the bathing room door opened.

Hyunjin stepped out, the scent of soap clinging faintly to him. He crossed the room with his usual soldier’s stride, calm and measured, and stopped beside the bed.

Felix’s amber eyes flicked upward, then down again. His chest tightened. So close. Too close.

Hyunjin inclined his head slightly. “You should rest. Tomorrow will be long.”

Felix forced a small nod, slipping beneath the covers, turning just enough to let his hair veil his face. “Yes, my lord.”

Hyunjin moved to the other side, pulling the blankets back with steady hands. The bed dipped with his weight, the warmth of his body seeping across the space between them.

Silence stretched. The fire popped in the hearth.

Felix lay rigid, staring at the shadows on the canopy above, every nerve alight with dread. One slip. If he notices one slip —

Hyunjin settled on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His voice, when it came, was quiet, thoughtful. “You needn’t be uneasy. I will not overstep.”

Felix blinked, startled, before forcing a soft, shy laugh. “Do I seem uneasy?”

Hyunjin’s gaze slid toward her, calm, unreadable. “…Yes.”

Felix’s cheeks burned. He quickly turned away, pulling the covers higher, hiding behind the mask of a bashful bride. “It is only… my first time sharing a bed with a man,” he whispered.

Hyunjin’s eyes lingered on her profile a moment longer. Then he exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. “Then rest. I will keep watch over the storm.”

The chamber sank into silence again, save for the fire and the howl of wind beyond the windows.

Felix’s amber eyes stared into the darkness, his heart pounding. One night. Just one night. Survive this, and morning will come.

As the night went on, the wind suddenly howled against the windows, rattling the panes with icy force. Inside the chamber, the fire burned low, casting the room in a soft orange glow.

Hyunjin lay on his back, hands folded across his chest, eyes fixed on the canopy above. Sleep eluded him. His mind was a restless tangle — the king’s words, the nobles’ whispers, the strange warmth of seeing Eleanor with the child. And above all, the quiet unease he could not shake whenever he looked at her.

Beside him, Felix had drifted into slumber. His breaths came soft and even, the golden veil of his hair spilled across the pillow like molten threads. For once, his mask was gone — no serene smile, no measured words. Only the unguarded stillness of sleep.

A sudden gust slipped through the cracks of the shutters, chilling the air. Felix shifted in his sleep, curling tighter beneath the covers. A faint shiver rippled through him.

Hyunjin turned his head, watching in silence. For a moment he hesitated. Then, with a soft sigh, he reached across the narrow space between them.

He drew the blankets higher over Felix’s shoulders, careful not to wake him. His hand lingered for just a breath, hovering above the golden hair, before withdrawing.

The duchess murmured something indistinct in sleep, brow smoothing as the warmth settled back over her.

Hyunjin exhaled slowly, settling once more against the pillows. His gaze remained on her a moment longer, thoughtful, unreadable.

She hides something, he thought. And yet… like this, she seems almost… fragile.

The storm raged on outside. Inside, the Duke of Lancaster lay awake beside his sleeping duchess, burdened by questions he could not yet name.

 

The first light of dawn spilled pale across the chamber, painting the ceiling in muted gold. The storm had quieted, leaving the world muffled beneath heavy snow.

Felix stirred, lashes fluttering open. For a moment, disoriented, he forgot where he was — the velvet canopy above, the steady warmth beside him, the faint crackle of the dying fire. Then memory returned in a rush: the storm, the castle, the single bed.

He shifted carefully, meaning to sit up. But froze.

Though the bed was vast, somehow in the night they had drifted close. Hyunjin lay facing him, no more than a breath away, his dark hair mussed from sleep, his shirt parted just enough to reveal the jagged scars etched across his chest.

The same ones Felix had glimpsed last night, now stark against the pale morning light.

Felix’s amber eyes lingered on them, tracing the harsh lines. Up close, they were even more brutal, yet strangely dignified — marks of survival, carved deep into flesh but worn with quiet strength.

Before he could tear his gaze away, it wandered upward — straight into Hyunjin’s eyes.

Awake. Watching.

Felix went utterly still, breath catching, ears flooding red. He had been caught.

Hyunjin’s lips curved faintly, soft with sleep but steady all the same. His voice was low, warm, almost intimate in the quiet.

“Good morning.”

Felix swallowed hard, trying to summon composure. “G-good morning, my lord.” His voice betrayed him, softer than intended.

They lingered there, staring at each other in silence, the world hushed around them. No court, no masks, no weight of titles — just two faces in the fragile light of dawn.

Felix felt the heat rise in his chest, panic warring with something else, something gentler. His amber eyes flicked down, then up again, unable to look away.

Hyunjin’s gaze softened, dark eyes calm, unthreatening. His tone, when he spoke again, was so gentle Felix almost didn’t recognize it.

“You look rested.”

Felix blinked, startled, then let out the faintest laugh, a nervous flutter. “Do I?”

“You do.” Hyunjin’s lips curved slightly more. “I’m glad.”

The moment stretched, fragile and strange, until a brisk knock at the chamber door shattered it.

“Your Graces,” a servant’s voice called. “Breakfast will be served at the King’s table at the eighth bell.”

Hyunjin’s voice was still husky with sleep when he answered. “Understood.”

Silence fell again, Felix exhaled quickly, turning onto his back, breaking the stare. “We should… prepare.”

Hyunjin only inclined his head, his gaze lingering a heartbeat longer before he shifted away, giving her–him–space.

But as Felix sat up, smoothing his hair with trembling hands, his heart beat hard in his chest. Gentle, he thought, unsettled. Why must he be so gentle?

By the time the bell rang for breakfast, the great hall of the castle was alive once more. The storm had trapped the nobles inside, but no one dared complain while seated at the King’s table, surrounded by warmth, music, and silver platters gleaming with morning fare.

Felix walked at Hyunjin’s side, every inch the Duchess of Lancaster. The pale gown the servants had prepared flowed gracefully on him, its color soft as pearl, his golden hair braided neatly down his back. At his throat, the Lancaster pendant Hyunjin had placed there after their wedding day caught the morning light, glinting with quiet authority.

He moved with serene calm, smiled, masking the gnawing unease in his chest. He took his place at the long table, Hyunjin beside him, the King at the head with his lords and dukes gathered round.

Servants poured wine, laid out roasted fowl, fruits, and fresh bread. Conversation rose in polished tones. Hyunjin ate with quiet precision, speaking only when addressed, his presence steady as a pillar. Felix followed suit, every motion measured, each smile practiced.

And then —

“Pretty!”

A small voice piped up.

Felix stiffened. Slowly, he looked down.

Little Julian, curls tousled, had somehow slipped from his nursemaid’s side–agian–and padded across the floor. He reached up eagerly with both arms, wide eyes fixed on Felix as though nothing else in the world existed.

The hall chuckled softly.

“Oh heavens —” the Countess gasped, hurrying to catch him, but she was too late. Julian pressed against Felix’s chair, tugging insistently at his gown. “Up!”

Heat rushed to Felix’s cheeks. He shot Martha, standing behind him, a desperate look. Not again.

But the nobles’ eyes sparkled with delight. Even the King leaned forward, amusement lighting his gaze. “Ah. The boy has chosen his favorite.”

Felix’s amber eyes darted to Hyunjin, only to find his husband watching calmly, lips twitching faintly at the corner. No help there.

With no choice left, Felix bent gracefully, lifting Julian into his lap. The boy settled at once, giggling, grabbing a piece of bread straight from Felix’s plate with triumphant cheer.

The hall laughed warmly.

“See how content he is!”
“Such motherly grace.”
“The Duchess of Lancaster is truly made for children.”

Felix’s smile remained serene, though inside he wanted to sink through the floor. Julian stuffed bread into his mouth, crumbs scattering across Felix’s gown, utterly oblivious to the weight of politics and masks around him.

Hyunjin reached over, brushing a few crumbs discreetly from Felix’s sleeve with his large hand. His dark eyes met Felix’s briefly — steady, warm, almost reassuring.

Felix’s breath caught.

The King raised his goblet, laughter in his voice. “A charming sight indeed! Lancaster, it seems your house will have no trouble with heirs.”

The words rippled through the hall like thunder. Felix’s ears burned, his chest tightening with a pang of dread, though his smile never faltered.

Hyunjin inclined his head to the King, answering smoothly, “Your Majesty is gracious.”

Felix bowed his head as well, clutching Julian closer as if the boy’s warmth might shield him from the weight of those words.

But beneath the mask, his thoughts churned. Heirs. Always heirs. And I —

Julian tugged at his necklace then, laughing, and Felix smoothed his curls with a trembling hand, his smile still radiant for the court.

 —I can never give them that.

Felix’s smile remained fixed, but inside his thoughts were a storm fiercer than the snow outside.

How can I end this marriage without the King’s wrath falling on me? How do I free Eleanor without bringing ruin on Lancaster? Duty, duty, duty —that word will choke me before long. If the truth is revealed, it will not be exile I face but execution. I must find a path, a way to unravel this union without toppling the crown’s pride.

The voices around the table blurred, nobles laughing and toasting, the King’s voice rolling like distant thunder. Felix’s gaze fell to the golden pendant against his chest, glinting under the morning light, its weight suddenly unbearable. A symbol of a lie. A chain I can never —

A soft clink interrupted him. Felix blinked.

A piece of roasted pheasant, neatly carved, now rested on his plate. Beside it, a slice of bread, a portion of fruit. Hyunjin’s hand, steady and unhurried, placed the fork beside it before returning to his own meal.

Felix blinked again, startled. He hadn’t realized how empty his plate was — how little he had eaten the night before, distracted by all the tension.

Amber eyes lifted, finding Hyunjin’s dark ones. For a heartbeat, they simply looked at each other. Hyunjin’s face was calm, unreadable, but his action spoke plainly enough Eat. Take care of yourself.

Felix’s lips parted, caught between protest and something else, but before he could speak, a small giggle bubbled up against him.

He glanced down. Julian sat comfortably in his lap, cheeks round with stolen bread, happily chewing. Somehow, without Felix noticing, Hyunjin had even reached over and fed the boy — offering him small pieces of fruit with the same quiet care.

Felix stared. He is feeding us both.

The thought disarmed him more than any sharp word or sly remark. For a moment, he simply sat there, heat rising in his chest, unsure whether to be embarrassed, grateful, or afraid of what it stirred in him.

Julian laughed again, crumbs scattering across Felix’s gown. Hyunjin reached over once more, brushing them off with a steady hand, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Felix’s ears warmed. He lowered his gaze quickly, murmuring just loud enough for Hyunjin to hear, “You needn’t… fuss over me.”

Hyunjin’s lips curved faintly, not quite a smile, but close. “It is no trouble.”

And then he returned to his meal, as though nothing had happened, leaving Felix with a heart that beat far too fast, caught between duty, dread, and the strange gentleness of the man beside him.

The rest of breakfast passed in a blur. Felix moved through it on instinct — nodding when spoken to, smiling when necessary, keeping Julian content in his lap while his own thoughts churned beneath the polished mask.

When at last the storm lifted and carriages were readied, the nobles began to take their leave. Felix and Hyunjin rose with the others, bowing before the King to offer thanks for his hospitality.

But their departure did not go smoothly.

Julian, upon realizing he was to be parted from Felix, wailed in protest, tiny fists clutching at Felix’s gown. The Countess flushed with mortification, trying to pry him away, but the boy clung with surprising strength.

Felix knelt gracefully, though his heart hammered. “Julian, baby, listen to me.”

The boy sniffled, eyes swimming with tears. “Don’t go.”

Felix’s throat tightened, but he smoothed the child’s curls and lowered his voice to a soft promise. “We must return home, little one. But if the opportunity comes, we shall meet again. Do you trust me?”

Julian hiccuped, then nodded miserably.

Felix, who couldn't resist the urge, pressed a kiss to his curls, then gently placed him back into his mother’s arms. The boy whimpered, still reaching, but allowed himself to be carried away, his wide eyes following Felix until the crowd swallowed him from view.

Felix straightened, his amber eyes calm once more, though something tugged uncomfortably at his chest.

The carriage door closed behind them with a dull thud. Outside, servants shouted and horses snorted in the crisp morning air. Inside, only silence, warm and heavy, stretched between the two Lancasters.

Hyunjin leaned back against the velvet seat, his dark gaze fixed calmly on his “wife.” For a moment, he said nothing. Then, to Felix’s surprise, the faintest smile touched his lips.

“You managed him well,” Hyunjin said, voice low but carrying a note of amusement. “Better than I expected.”

Felix blinked, startled. “You… expected me to fail?”

“I expected you to panic,” Hyunjin corrected smoothly. “But instead, you danced with him in your arms, calmed him with whispers, and even managed to feed him between bites of your own meal. The court was enchanted.”

Felix’s ears warmed. He looked away quickly, adjusting the folds of his pale gown. “It was not skill,” he muttered. “Only circumstance.”

Hyunjin’s smile curved a fraction more, a rare softness glinting in his eyes. “Perhaps. But circumstance revealed more than you think.”

Felix turned to him, amber eyes narrowing slightly, unsure whether to bristle or to laugh. “You… tease me now?”

Hyunjin’s gaze held his, steady and calm, but with that same flicker of warmth Felix had never seen before. “Perhaps I do.”

The words left Felix off-balance, his mask slipping for just a heartbeat. He stared, caught between indignation and a strange, unsettled flutter in his chest.

Hyunjin leaned back again, closing his eyes as though the matter were finished.

But Felix, staring at him across the velvet seat, could not help but think: This is a side of him I have never known. A gentleness. A warmth. And it is far more dangerous than suspicion.