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    Lucian raised his head at the sound of someone calling him. But his vision was blurry. He knew someone was calling him, but he couldn’t tell who it was.

    “Sir Lucian!”

    As Lucian stumbled, his hand slipping off the wall, someone hurriedly rushed to support him. It was Nils Bowman.

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    “Are you alright?”

    Alright? No, he wasn’t alright. Every place where Nils’s hand touched him felt burning hot, like being seared with a red-hot iron.

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    “Sir Lucian? My goodness, feel your temperature. Have you been enduring this fever?”

    “Ni…ls… Sir.”

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    Lucian barely managed to speak.

    “To my room… my bedroom… please…”

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    “Oh, I understand. Let’s get you there right away.”

    Lucian’s words came out between labored breaths, and Nils quickly wrapped Lucian’s arm around his shoulder.

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    “Ugh.”

    A suppressed groan escaped between his teeth. Startled by the sound, Nils turned to look at Lucian. Lucian’s black hair was damp with sweat and disheveled, and his skin flushed red from the fever.

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    Wait a minute…

    Nils quickly turned his head away. Was it just his imagination, or did Lucian look strange? There was something… different, something he couldn’t quite put into words…

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    But his thoughts were cut short as Lucian’s knees buckled, and they nearly toppled over together.

    “This is bad.”

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    He steadied himself, feeling that the best thing to do was to get Lucian back to his quarters as quickly as possible.

    “Hang on a little longer, Sir Lucian.”

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    With determination, Nils began to walk, bearing most of Lucian’s weight.

    Baron Bertie had just stepped out into the garden outside the banquet hall shortly after Nils Bowman had left with Lucian. If Nils and Lucian had been only a bit slower or if Bertie had come out a bit sooner, they might have crossed paths.

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    “They definitely went this way.”

    The baron muttered anxiously to himself. The servant said he had definitely drunk the wine laced with the drug. Plus, he’d had a sip of wine right before that, so the effects should be kicking in faster. In that case, he should be writhing around here somewhere, feverish and helpless. But that troublesome guy was nowhere to be seen.

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    “Could it be that the drug didn’t work?”

    Sweating, he muttered under his breath. His heavy frame, usually sluggish, was now making him short of breath as he moved and sweated profusely.

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    “I spent so much money to get that drug.”

    Since being dismissed from the Imperial Palace, Baron Bertie had been kicked out of his family home for tarnishing the family name. Even his fiancée had thrown him out, refusing to let him through her doors. Once, he was the envy of many, appointed as an imperial official at a young age. The barony was naturally his to inherit, and perhaps, he might have climbed even higher. But all that vanished in a single day.

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    “It’s all because of that aide.”

    Not understanding his intentions, that aide went straight to report everything to His Majesty. When the welcome banquet for the returning prince was announced, it was a golden opportunity for revenge, so he hurriedly tracked down the drug. The potion was supposed to make him dizzy and behave strangely, like he was drunk. He’d planned to have him humiliated at the banquet.

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    But where did that troublesome aide disappear to? He definitely saw him head outside.

    “I just hope His Majesty doesn’t catch me.”

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    It was then that he heard a voice calling out, “Lucian, are you there?” The voice was low, deep, and, frankly, terrifying. Oh no! Baron Bertie quickly retreated. He needed to get far away, as far as possible. At this point, disappearing from the Imperial Palace was his only way to survive.

    Meanwhile, Heraith was in a particularly foul mood. He had been deep in conversation with Joachim, only to glance around and realize that Lucian was gone. Lucian would never leave without his permission, yet he had vanished without a trace.

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    “No one’s seen Luce?”

    Heraith was dumbfounded. How could no one have seen Lucian?

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    “Maybe he just stepped out for a moment?”

    Joachim said, following him.

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    That wasn’t impossible… yet somehow, Heraith felt it was more than that. He had a certain faith that Lucian would never leave his sight without permission.

    Just then, he noticed someone hurrying toward him from the direction of the emperor’s palace. The person coming closer was Nils Bowman, his aide.

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    “Your Majesty! Sir Lucian…!”

    At Nils’s frantic shout, Heraith’s face darkened.

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    “Something’s happened to Sir Lucian!”

    Nils Bowman, panting and flustered, shouted urgently to Heraith.

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    Something’s wrong. My body feels strange.

    Someone brought me here, right?

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    −Sir Lucian. Are you alright? We’re almost there. Just hang on a bit longer.

    Where are they taking me?

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    −We’re here. I’ll go get His Majesty right away!

    Wait, of all people, please don’t bring His Majesty here.

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    Lucian wanted to stop Nils as he hurriedly ran off, but all that came out of his mouth was labored breathing.

    Something’s wrong. Dizzy, and my body feels so hot. There was no strength left in his limbs. It’s hot, stifling, unbearable. Please, someone save me. Please.

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    He wanted to tear off the cravat tightening around his neck, but his hands had no strength. Was he going to die like this?

    Just as his muddled mind was starting to drift away, something cool touched his forehead.

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    “Ah…”

    Lucian thought he knew whose hand was resting on his forehead.

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    Heraith. My emperor.

    “Lucian.”

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    At the low, whispering voice, Lucian barely opened his eyes. He tried to sit up to show respect, but that was the most he could manage. His sight was filled with golden eyes tinged with green, staring intently at his feverish face.

    “Your… Majesty…”

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    Almost unconsciously, Lucian raised a hand and wrapped it around Heraith’s neck.

    “Plea…se… save… me…”

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    He gathered all the strength he had left, but his words didn’t continue. Cool, refreshing lips covered his own, stopping him from speaking.

    Two days later.

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    It was the morning Joachim was due to leave. Unlike his arrival, the prince’s farewell was to be a simple affair. Joachim had requested that, as he came as a friend and wanted to avoid unnecessary formalities.

    Of course, both Joachim and Heraith knew that wasn’t the whole truth. The cause lay in what had happened to Lucian the night of the banquet, the reason Nils Bowman had urgently sought out the emperor. After confirming his last bit of luggage, Joachim was ready to depart, but he hesitated, scratching his head and letting out a deep sigh. Then, bluntly, he asked Heraith.

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    “Where’s Luce?”

    “…”

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    Heraith just looked at Joachim without a word. There was something dark and sunken in his gaze, unlike anything Joachim had seen before.

    “Is he in a bad condition?”

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    “He’s recovering. A few more days’ rest, and he’ll be fine.”

    “…Can I ask what happened?”

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    “Ah.”

    Heraith responded nonchalantly.

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    “He drank something bad.”

    “You mean from the glass I gave him?”

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    “Something else he drank afterward was the problem.”

    “Ah…”

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    Now that he thought about it, Joachim did recall Lucian drinking something after Heraith had taken the glass from him. Joachim nodded, accepting Heraith’s words, but something didn’t sit right.

    “Stop that.”

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    Noticing his expression, Heraith lifted one corner of his mouth in a cold smile.

    “What?”

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    “Don’t try anything unnecessary. I have no intention of letting you have him.”

    “Hah, what are you…”

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    Joachim was about to protest indignantly, but Heraith let out a scoff, clearly not interested in hearing more, and turned away.

    “Maybe next time.”

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    Joachim watched as his friend, the emperor, walked off without a hint of warmth. He smiled weakly at his retreating figure.

    “Luce… will he be alright?”

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    Swallowing his regret for not being able to say a final goodbye, Joachim climbed into the carriage.

    After seeing Joachim off, the emperor walked straight back toward the imperial chambers.

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    “Your Majesty.”

    The head attendant called out, his tone heavy with meaning.

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    “How is Lucian?”

    “He’s still asleep.”

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    “And everything’s been taken care of?”

    “Yes. Fortunately, the poison has been fully neutralized.”

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    “And the culprit?”

    “The accomplice confessed everything. It was ordered by Baron Bertie. He claims he thought it was just a simple dizziness-inducing drug.”

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    Heraith stopped in his tracks.

    “A simple dizziness-inducing drug? Then why did Lucian end up in such a state? Anyone could see it was a potent aphrodisiac.”

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    “The palace physician believes it was partly due to Sir Lucian’s unique constitution and the fact that it mixed with the alcohol he had drunk earlier, triggering a hypersensitive reaction.”

    The emperor fell silent, pressing his lips together. The head attendant, knowing exactly where Heraith was headed, dared not say anything more.

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    Finally, as they reached the emperor’s chambers…

    “Have Baron Bertie captured and thrown in the dungeon. I’ll interrogate him myself.”

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    “Yes, Your Majesty.”

    “And don’t let anyone in. If there’s an emergency, relay it yourself.”

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    “Yes, Your Majesty.”

    The head attendant bowed deeply. As the door closed, he straightened up, fully aware of how angry the emperor was, despite his calm exterior.

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    “May Sir Lucian recover safely…”

    The head attendant’s voice, soft and full of concern, echoed in the silence.

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