HPTL Chapter 2-1.7

Roman Erenstein’s aide, Sven Felix, only learned of yesterday’s events at the Second Prince’s Palace this morning, bogged down by a month’s backlog from his absence.  

Upon entering the palace, he received a report from Clovis and heard that Christian Baren had entered the Second Prince’s Palace under the name “Lien.”

Until that moment, he’d managed to maintain some composure. But when he found Roman Erenstein—who, according to Clovis, had spent the night with Christian in the bedroom—sitting in his study instead, Sven nearly fainted.

“Your Highness, why are you here?”  

“Shouldn’t you be in the bedroom right now?”  

“Where’s Lord Baren?”  

Of course, slipping out of the bedroom unnoticed by Clovis would be child’s play for Roman Erenstein. But why he was sitting in his study chair instead of with Christian baffled Sven.  

Where to start—what to ask, and how?  

“Men are truly creatures driven by instinct.”  

That’s when it happened.  

Roman Erenstein murmured a low mutter that Sven distinctly heard. 

‘Instinct?’

“Pardon, Your Highness?”

As Roman Erenstein said, men are indeed creatures ruled more by instinct than reason. But Sven couldn’t understand why his lord was saying such a thing at this moment.

Puzzled, Sven then caught the prince’s next murmur.  

“To think just locking eyes could get me aroused.”  

“What are you talking about?”  

‘Aroused? What on earth was he talking about?’

Staring at his lord spouting incomprehensible nonsense, Sven noticed Roman slowly turn to him, beckoning with a flick of his long index and middle fingers.  

“Your Highness?”  

Caught off guard, Sven approached. He tilted his head, looking down at Roman, who sat silently staring back from his chair. After a pause, Roman Erenstein spoke.  

“The strange thing is, looking at you like this does nothing for me.”  

Roman Erenstein muttered.  

“I don’t feel… aroused… My heart isn’t pounding, nor do I feel the urge to embrace you. Does it have to be him?”  

‘Oh…’

“I thought you meant something else—wait, what?”  Sven Felix’s face paled as he was about to nod absentmindedly. Roman, unfazed by Sven’s startled step back, continued. In Roman Erenstein’s mind, only the blue eyes of the brown-haired man who had gazed down at him the previous night lingered.

“Since there are palace attendants outside, I’ll quietly slip into the next room. I don’t know who built it, but there’s a passage connecting this room to the other. I’ll return before the attendants enter tomorrow morning, so I suggest Your Highness regains your senses by then.”

Christian Baren had said this as he rose, leaving Roman on the bed. He turned away with such cold detachment that Roman, despite wanting to move, couldn’t react—his senses still wrapped in the knight’s lingering scent.  

Only after a long while did Roman let out a wry chuckle.  

‘He got me.’

It was just like that day.  

Roman Erenstein had never possessed sexual inclinations that deviated from the norm. He was drawn to women in an entirely ordinary way and didn’t reject those who threw themselves at him. If asked whether he could embrace men in the same way, he would confidently say no.

But there was one exception.  

Roman Erenstein had lost his reason to a man once before.

Seven years ago, on a night he couldn’t forget.  

That night’s events remained vivid in his memory.  

The man’s eyes, straddling him and letting out moans, appeared in his dreams from time to time—so clear they burned into him.  

Filled with hostility yet unwavering, the man’s contradictory emotions hit Roman harder the more their bodies entwined.  

Drunk on a fiery gaze he’d never received from anyone else, Roman had lost himself that night, devouring him relentlessly.  

But the next morning, when Roman awoke, lifted his eyelids to face the ceiling of his chamber, and turned to look at the empty space beside him, the euphoric high he’d been riding crashed miserably.

And now, again, he’d been made to feel that way.  

Last night, feeling Christian Baren’s breath as he loomed over him, Roman Erenstein recalled that strange, longed-for sensation.  

Every nerve in his body zeroed in on the man atop him; his eyes and senses chased Christian Baren alone.  

His quiet heart pounded deafeningly, and he struggled to suppress the urge to reach out.  

And then what?  

“To think you’d get aroused like this for someone you feel nothing for. Just how pent-up are you?”

Roman Erenstein lowered his gaze, recalling the knight’s contemptuous words.  

“Maybe I should just lock him up,” he muttered.

So he couldn’t go anywhere out of my sight.  

So he couldn’t escape.  

So he couldn’t flee—just keep him in my grasp.  

“Lock him here and show him to no one.”  

Make him his forever, unable to run away.

“Sven.”  

Roman looked at Sven Felix, standing silently as his mood shifted wildly.  

“What do you call this feeling?”  

This relentless craving, this constant wanting, this irritating urge to possess and even break—  

What do you call it?  

Sven Felix stared at Roman, then let out a long sigh.  

“You still don’t know, Your Highness?”

  

Facing Roman’s frown, he answered.  

“That’s the feeling of liking someone.”

Roman froze, unable to respond to Sven’s words. Sven’s expression was so full of conviction that Roman found it absurd.

‘Liking someone?’

‘Me, that knight?’

“Pfft.”

 

Finally, Roman burst into a chuckle. Then, a loud laugh followed.  

“Hahaha!”  

“Sven, Sven, Sven!”

With long strides, he approached Sven Felix, who flinched at the sudden movement. Standing nose-to-nose with his aide, who seemed inexplicably tense, Roman looked down at him with a sly grin. Sven’s shoulders trembled slightly as Roman placed a hand on them. Staring at the reaction, Roman spoke.

“You’re more naive than you seem.”

“Pardon?”

 

“To think I’d still harbor such foolish emotions.”

Sven Felix twitched an eyebrow at Roman instead of responding.

Roman shook his head and declared firmly, “You’re wrong. This isn’t some pure emotion—it’s mere desire.”

Roman was certain.

“If you want to get technical, it’s a deep craving. A burning desire for something I can’t have.”  

Roman muttered.  

“Ever since we were kids, Hyungnim always got what I wanted first. Sadly, it happened again this time. But thankfully, it ended up in my hands—so it’s my win, right? I’ll concede the throne, but since I’ve claimed the one Hyungnim cherished most, it’s not a loss.”  

Sven Felix’s eyes flickered at Roman Erenstein’s murmurs. Roman smirked.  

“Still… it was an amusing answer.”

“…”

“To think you’d reinterpret my feelings for that knight so creatively. It’s almost a pity I can’t feel that emotion you described for him.”

Sven Felix swallowed a bitter smile.  

Reflecting on Roman’s words, he spoke slowly.  

“So, Your Highness, you’re saying… You don’t like Lord Baren?”  

Roman Erenstein snorted.  

“Sven, are you trying to make me laugh myself to death? Or do your eyes genuinely see me ‘liking’ that knight? If that’s the case, you’re gravely mistaken. If I truly felt that way about him, as you claim, would I have brought him here like this?”

Roman shrugged.  

“Of course, I can’t deny I’m sexually drawn to him—that’s undeniable. There’s something oddly enticing about his scent. If you smelled like that, you might’ve been the one rolling in my bed.”  

Sven stared at Roman, who was clearly toying with him, for a long moment.

  

Roman frowned at his silent aide. Finally, Sven spoke.  

“Well, if Your Highness says it’s not so, then it’s not. You are, after all, a man driven more by instinct than reason.”

Roman nodded.  

“Exactly—”

“But come to think of it, you’re right. For Your Highness, so busy you barely have time to breathe, to mobilize valuable forces to track down Lord Baren—someone no one had sought for seven years—it must’ve been purely a strategic move for future plans. It could never be because you missed that one night with him.”

Roman’s face stiffened as he was about to agree. Rudely, Sven Felix had cut him off.

Though Roman glared coldly, Sven didn’t stop.

“The way your lips curl up whenever Lord Baren’s name is mentioned, or how you’ve bought every portrait of him that surfaced on the black market—those were surely just for the sake of tracking him, with no other intent.”

“…”

“You’ve expressed displeasure at Lord Baren’s continued loyalty to His Highness Vincent and went to great lengths to bring him here. That, too, was merely to use him, not because you like him.”

Sven smiled, meeting Roman’s wavering eyes.

“Renovating Your Highness’s personal space for Lord Baren, ordering the attendants and maids to treat him as the new master of the palace—same thing.”

“…”

“Pouring your precious mana, which you value so highly, into saving the daughter Lord Baren cherishes, to the point of nearly fainting—that, too, was a calculated move to claim him, not because you like him.”

The mocking curve of Roman’s eyes had straightened, and his smile vanished. His cold gaze, like the calm before a storm, fixed on Sven.

Sven spoke.

“Even if the beginning was flawed, there was ample chance to make amends. But you chose not to take the right path, Your Highness.”

Advising the now-silent Roman, Sven continued, “It’ll take considerable effort to make up for what’s happened so far.”

“…”

“The first step, perhaps, is to clear up the misunderstandings Lord Baren has about Your Highness. That is if you wish to win not just his presence but his heart, which you merely think you’ve ‘secured.’”

Sven Felix had stood by Roman Erenstein’s side for ages.  

He was a loyal aide, a skilled knight, but also a good friend, Roman boasted of. Thus, the words he’d just spoken were not merely those of a loyal aide.

I hope he understands.

For seven years, Sven had watched Roman yearn for a certain someone. Though Roman was currently deluded, Sven believed he would soon recognize his true feelings. He had spoken to prevent late regrets, though he wasn’t sure how Roman would take it.

Sven studied Roman’s face, which remained unresponsive. For some reason, Roman stayed silent despite hearing his words.

This feels… unsettling.

Sven opened his mouth to speak again, but Roman was quicker. With a cold sneer, Roman said,

“You’re spouting nonsense I can’t bear to hear. What misunderstanding could there possibly be between that knight and me?”

As Roman glared, Sven replied,

“You’re threatening him, Your Highness. Lord Baren.”

Roman Erenstein snorted.

“That’s a shackle. To keep him by my side—”

“That’s a threat.”

Sven cut Roman off once more.

As Roman fell silent, Sven continued.

“You’re holding the life of his child over Lord Baren’s head. How could he possibly view Your Highness kindly?”

I wouldn’t trust you either, he thought, but those words didn’t escape his lips.

Oh… damn.

Sven Felix realized, in his earnest attempt to offer sincere advice based on Roman’s words and actions from last night, that he had not only provoked Roman’s temper but set his emotions ablaze.

Swallowing hard, Sven looked at the silent Roman.

“Your Highness,” he began, the words rising to the tip of his tongue.

He tried to soothe Roman.

“Your—”

But Roman moved faster.

Sven stared at Roman’s retreating figure as he stormed past and left the office, letting out a long sigh.

‘Denial shouldn’t last too long, ’ he hoped.

 

 

︶︶︶ ✦ ⋆˚₊⋆ ☽༄༅༄☾ ⋆₊˚⋆ ✦ ︶︶︶

 

 

“Congratulations, Lord Lien! It seems your first night together was a resounding success!”

The moment Christian Baren opened his eyes, Clovis approached with a beaming smile, spouting those words.

‘What on earth is this man talking about?’

Last night, the bedroom door had been firmly shut, and no one was permitted to enter until Christian, noticing the physical change in Roman’s body, had left for the adjacent chamber—his supposed room—with a look of contempt. When Christian returned to the bedroom at dawn, Roman was already gone, making Clovis’s words all the more baffling.

Perhaps sensing Christian’s gaze, Clovis bowed his head with a sheepish, “Ahem.”

“My apologies if I was presumptuous. I’ve served His Highness for so long that I got carried away. The garments you wore last night will be laundered soon, so please change into these new clothes. Here they are.”

With that, he respectfully offered Christian a set of white ceremonial robes. Christian stared at the clothes in Clovis’s hands, a realization dawning belatedly.

“If you’re planning to head to the next room, you’d better take off those clothes.”

Before Christian had left for the adjacent chamber, Roman Erenstein, lying on the bed, had said this. As Christian paused at the door in the wall, Roman continued.

“You may not realize, but the people in my palace are a curious bunch. We should at least provide some evidence that we were intimate to avoid anyone suspecting otherwise. So, how about leaving behind that scrap of fabric wrapped around you?”

‘So that’s what he meant.’

Christian looked at the clothes in Clovis’s hands and swallowed a hollow laugh.  

He didn’t even want to know what Roman had done to the clothes he’d left behind to convince Clovis so thoroughly.  

Facing Clovis’s bright smile, Christian spoke.  

“Those clothes… Are you handling them personally, Clovis?”  

“Of course, there are usually others assigned to such tasks, but while Lord Lien is adjusting, I’ve been tasked with attending to you.”

“…I see. Where is His Highness?”

“His Highness seems to have gone to his office early for official duties. Oh, Lord Lien, where would you like to have breakfast?”

“I don’t usually eat in the morning, so there’s no need to prepare anything.”

“Then what will you do this morning?”

…Good question.

If he had his way, Christian would return to the house where Miraera was, but Roman hadn’t told him where the passage connecting to the house was located. 

Under Clovis’s eager gaze, practically begging for orders, Christian stood silent for a moment before speaking.  

“I’ve heard the palace gardens are renowned. I’d like to explore them, as long as it’s not a bother.”

Clovis’s face lit up as if he’d been waiting for those words.

 

 

︶︶︶ ✦ ⋆˚₊⋆ ☽༄༅༄☾ ⋆₊˚⋆ ✦ ︶︶︶

 

 

“Theon, come here!”

Having guided Christian to the maze garden in front of the Second Prince’s Palace, Clovis called out to a middle-aged man tending to flowers in the distance.

A sturdy man, wearing gloves and trimming stray leaves with pruning shears, descended from a ladder.

“You called, Lord Clovis?”

Theon, the gardener of the Second Prince’s Palace, bowed respectfully to Clovis before turning his gaze to Christian. Noticing the black mask Christian wore, Theon’s expression betrayed curiosity. Clovis spoke to address it.

“This is Lord Lien, who has been staying at the palace since yesterday. You’ve heard the news, haven’t you?”

“Oh, this is…!”

Theon bowed to Christian.

“Greetings, Lord Lien. I’m Theon, entrusted with managing His Highness’s garden.”

Christian nodded silently in response to Theon’s courteous, almost restrained greeting. Clovis, watching the exchange with satisfaction, spoke again.

“Lord Lien mentioned feeling stifled staying inside the palace and wished to see the garden. I have some matters to attend to and must step away briefly. Could you guide Lord Lien through the garden in my stead? You know this place better than anyone.”

“Haha, of course! This way, Lord Lien.”

Christian tried to decline, but Theon, already acting on Clovis’s order, set down his shears and stepped back. Seeing Theon head toward the green maze garden, Christian reluctantly followed.

“I leave it to you, then.”

Theon flinched slightly at the soft timbre of Christian’s voice but quickly moved into the maze as if nothing had happened.

“His Highness had this garden created when he was about ten years old. He wanted our palace’s garden to stand out from the others, and after days of discussion among the palace gardeners, including myself, this maze was born.”

Theon walked confidently through the maze, explaining its origins. Christian glanced at the towering hedges, murmuring,

“It must be hard for first-time visitors to find their way out.”

“Indeed. In the past, other princes and princesses who visited struggled greatly. Especially His Highness Victor—when he was young, he got stuck in this maze for half a day, causing quite a commotion. He’s avoided this garden ever since.”

His Highness Victor referred to the Third Prince of the Cassel Empire.

Born to the same mother as Roman Erenstein, though whether their relationship was good or bad remained unclear.

Letting out a low chuckle, Christian stopped when Theon abruptly halted ahead of him.

Wondering why Theon had paused, Christian looked forward and saw a glass greenhouse at the heart of the maze.

“His Highness’s greenhouse,” Theon said, stepping aside as if clearing the path for Christian.

With a slight nod of acknowledgment, Christian entered the greenhouse.

The glass structure at the center of the maze garden was astonishingly filled with all manner of flowers.

“Unlike the trees outside, every flower in this greenhouse was personally cultivated by His Highness.”

“Personally?” Christian asked.

Theon smiled.

“His Highness loves plants. He says they never betray. If I may be so bold, I think he takes after His Majesty the Emperor in that regard.”

Christian Baren almost laughed.

‘To think that man has such a refined hobby.’

No one would have imagined that a frivolous man, utterly devoid of decorum, would have a fondness for flowers and trees. At least, according to public perception, Roman Erenstein was said to be the polar opposite of his father, the Emperor.

Christian paused, catching a fragrant floral scent. His gaze settled on a cluster of vividly blooming flowers.

“As expected of His Highness’s person, you recognized it at a glance,” Theon said softly, watching Christian, who stood transfixed.

“The flowers you’re looking at are His Highness’s favorites.”

Christian couldn’t bring himself to smile along with Theon’s gentle expression.

If he weren’t wearing a mask, Theon might have noticed his turmoil.

“Theon.”

“Yes, Lord Lien?”

“I’d like to be alone here for a moment.”

Without a word, Theon honored the request and left the greenhouse. Christian let out the breath he’d been holding.

Taking a deep breath, he approached the flowers in front of him and then stopped abruptly.

 

 

︶︶︶ ✦ ⋆˚₊⋆ ☽༄༅༄☾ ⋆₊˚⋆ ✦ ︶︶︶

 

 

“Papa, Papa! Mirae loves these flowers! Look, these ones!”

“What’s this all of a sudden… Mirae, why this color specifically?”

“Huh?”

“Sure, roses are beautiful, but does it have to be this color? There are red roses, yellow roses, white roses… Is this color really the best?”

“Yup!”

“Why?”

“Hehe. These roses are just like Miraera!”

“What?”

“Black! They feel like me. So pretty! Super pretty!”

Christian Baren gazed darkly at the fully bloomed black roses before him.

Indeed, the greenhouse housed various flowers and plants, and there were many types of roses. But the most prominent, occupying the greatest space, were these black roses.

“The flowers you’re looking at are His Highness’s favorites.”

‘Some things don’t need to be inherited.’

A bitter smile crept out.

He had never once told her about him, yet did blood ties shape even their tastes?

With a cold gaze, Christian reached for the black roses.

“Ugh.”

As he tried to pluck one, a sharp thorn on the stem pierced his finger. Christian stared impassively at the bead of blood-forming, then sighed softly.

He reached into his pocket for something. It seemed he’d brought that handkerchief with him.

Whoosh.

But a sudden gust of wind snatched the handkerchief from his grasp.

Hadn’t Theon closed the door?

‘How could there be wind in a greenhouse with closed windows?’

Puzzled by the unnatural phenomenon, Christian’s eyes followed the handkerchief as it floated gently to the ground. He bent to pick it up.

“…!”

Then, he froze, spotting a figure at the greenhouse entrance.

Christian Baren stood rigid, staring at the black-haired man who had picked up the handkerchief from the ground in his stead.

“Is this yours?”

The man with green eyes dangled the handkerchief playfully, addressing Christian.

Only then did Christian realize the “wind” was anything but natural. His face hardened.

“It seems we’re exchanging greetings sooner than expected.”

The Crown Prince of the Empire spoke again, smiling at the silent Christian.

“Don’t you think, Lord Baren?”

At the gentle tone, Christian’s heart sank to the floor.