Afterward, Latian followed the twins into the banquet hall.
Claude was led away by another escorting soldier midway, so only Latian and the twins entered the hall together.
The banquet hall was dazzling.
Several chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting bright light over the room.
Beneath them, nobles dressed in extravagant attire laughed and conversed in refined tones.
The soft trickle of a small fountain mingled with the sweet scent of desserts filling the air.
As Latian curiously looked around, Sien and Haen gestured for him to come over.
“This way.”
“Come here, puppy.”
Why did it feel like they were enjoying this?
Suppressing an uneasy feeling in his chest, Latian obediently trotted over.
If anyone had been watching, they would have seen Latian with his shoulders slumped, looking dejected, while the twins stood tall with an air of dominance.
“You want to eat, don’t you? Since you’re a good little pup, we’ll allow it.”
“Just don’t eat like a slob, got it?”
The twins pointed at a round table draped in white cloth, laden with various desserts.
A fountain of melted chocolate trickled down continuously—if he dipped bread into it, it would surely melt in his mouth.
Latian eagerly nodded and picked up a piece of bread.
Just then, a pair of nobles approached the twins and struck up a conversation.
“Well, if it isn’t the famous Rangers of the North.”
“Oh my, you must be here as the Duke of Ocellania’s escorts, right?”
Their voices were warm and laced with a subtle flirtation, their interest in the twins undeniable.
Latian shrank into the background, trying to make himself invisible.
The twins engaged in polite conversation, while the nobles showed no interest in him whatsoever.
“Well, officially, we’re here to guard the lord.”
“But honestly, it’s more like a little getaway.”
“I heard you took a shortcut getting here?”
“As expected of Awakened individuals—how bold.”
From what Latian knew, the twins were orphans with no noble titles.
Yet the nobles clung to them because they were Awakened.
An Awakened person naturally commanded attention.
At least, that was what Latian thought.
He was still unaware that male Awakened individuals possessed the ability to impregnate anyone, regardless of gender, and female Awakened individuals increased the likelihood of giving birth to another Awakened.
The nobles’ true interest in the twins had nothing to do with their skills—it was something far more calculated.
Latian dipped his bread into the chocolate fountain, savoring the taste, when suddenly, a pale, slender hand entered his field of vision.
“?”
The hand picked up a macaron and extended it toward his mouth.
Perplexed, Latian looked up and blinked in surprise when he saw who was holding it.
“Y-Your Highness Rydium—mmph.”
His mouth was full of bread, so he quickly covered it with his hand and chewed as fast as he could.
Rydium, amused by the sight, chuckled softly and playfully tapped Latian’s cheek with his fingertips, as if touching a baby’s smooth skin.
“Latian, is it good?”
“Mm, yes.”
Even as he answered, Latian’s eyes darted around uneasily.
He had assumed Rydium would enter separately like Claude—so why was he here?
Perhaps the banquet had been going on for days, and Rydium’s formal introduction had already taken place.
Regardless, this wasn’t an ideal time for him to be acting so friendly.
If Hughman happened to see this from somewhere, what would he think?
“Wait a minute, Your Highness. What business do you have with our slave?”
“You shouldn’t touch him so carelessly.”
Sien and Haen, who had been distracted, finally noticed the situation and turned their attention to Latian.
The nobles, too, followed their gaze—eyes widening at the sight of Rydium, then narrowing in disdain at Latian.
Blatant discrimination.
“…Slave?”
Rydium’s expression froze for a moment.
But before he could react, Latian discreetly poked his side and gave him a look—a silent hint.
Quick to catch on, Rydium realized this was all an act.
He leaned on his chin, feigning mild discomfort.
“Claiming ownership in front of the one who will soon rule over all under the kingdom… How bold. In that case, why not sell this lovely slave to me? I’ll pay handsomely, and I’ll personally speak with the Duke of Ocellania.”
“That’s not possible! Um… probably.”
Excuse me, Haen, what do you mean by ‘probably’?
“Stop this. The lord would never allow it.”
Sien, more composed, firmly interjected.
Rydium let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head.
“Fine. Then just lend him to me for an hour.”
“……”
“That should be acceptable, right?”
Sien hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
Perhaps he had realized that Rydium, too, needed to be careful in this situation, so he was willing to play along.
Latian had no objections to this turn of events.
Regardless of the circumstances, Rydium’s position remained the same—he was someone who had fallen for Latian at first sight.
“Well then, Latian. Will you grant me your time?”
Impressed by their quick thinking, Latian placed his hand in Rydium’s.
Smiling slyly, Rydium led him into the midst of the swirling dancers.
As Latian shifted awkwardly, Rydium wrapped an arm firmly around his waist while gently placing Latian’s hand atop his own.
“Latian.”
Rydium’s breath brushed against his ear, sending a ticklish sensation down his spine.
He instinctively tensed up, and Rydium chuckled softly, his voice a whisper against Latian’s ear.
“Just follow my lead.”
Latian nodded.
Strangely enough, simply following his lead, though clumsy, was enough to make their movements pass as a proper dance.
Since he was almost entirely moving in response to Rydium’s guidance, it was inevitable.
He nearly stepped on his foot a few times, but every time, Rydium evaded with remarkable skill.
Even those evasive movements blended naturally into the dance, as if they were part of the choreography.
There was no doubt—this wasn’t his first time.
‘Well, of course. A crown prince must have plenty of admirers.’
In the original story, Rydium wasn’t a particularly important character.
Because of that, Latian didn’t know much about him.
But with his gentlemanly demeanor and effortless charm… there was no way he wasn’t popular.
“!”
Their eyes met at just the right moment.
Feeling awkward, Latian gave a sheepish grin, only to find Rydium smiling back, as if he had been waiting for their gazes to align.
“Lati. Think about it seriously.”
“…What?”
“Staying by my side. As mine.”
“…Your Highness, are you the type to fall in love at first sight?”
“Hm? What does that mean?”
“It means someone who falls in love too easily.”
Pfft. Rydium let out a breathy chuckle, followed by a clear, ringing laugh.
The way he smiled so openly reminded Latian of cherry blossoms in full bloom on a spring day.
As if the moment one touched them, the petals would flutter down, scattering seeds in their wake.
Latian found himself staring absentmindedly, only realizing the music had ended when the movement around them stilled.
The dancers, who had been whirling in graceful circles, gradually came to a stop.
Rydium released his arm from around Latian’s waist, took a step back, and bowed.
As Latian returned the gesture somewhat clumsily, a loud voice boomed from the front of the stage.
“Presenting His Grace, the Duke of Ocellania, Claud de Walt of Ocellania, protector of the iron-clad north of the Kingdom of Kesid!”
All attention instantly shifted toward the entrance.
Even from a distance, the man who stepped forward was unmistakable—his towering height alone made sure of that.
As he moved, his cloak billowed behind him, prompting a few in the crowd to let out sighs of admiration.
The air around Claud was thick with reverence, the kind reserved for those who stood above others.
Latian watched for a moment before reaching out and poking Rydium’s arm with a fingertip.
Rydium turned toward him, smiling warmly.
“I’m going to step out for a bit of fresh air.”
“Shall I accompany you?”
“Oh, no! That’s okay. I just want to be alone for a while.”
Rydium studied him for a moment before curving his eyes in understanding.
“Alright. Then, I’ll see you later.”
Thank goodness Rydium was quick to catch on.
With that, Latian slipped out of the ballroom alone.
As the hum of voices and the lingering traces of music faded behind him, he finally felt as if he could breathe.
Descending the steps into the garden, he exhaled deeply and looked up at the sky.
The night sky in this world was breathtaking.
Stars were scattered like sugar, so numerous they were impossible to count.
‘You could never see a sky like this back in Korea.’
As he stood in the quiet solitude of the secluded garden, gazing upward, a familiar voice spoke behind him in a low murmur.
“Dimerlos.”
…He was waiting for me. This bastard.
Latian slowly turned around.
At the entrance to the garden stood Hughman.
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