TMLOH 67

Chapter : 67

Flinch.

It was when I felt the sensation of being prey.

Duke Muivisk gave a sly smile.

“?”

Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned his gaze away. I had no idea what that was about, but it seemed the crisis had passed.

“Phew…”

I let out a relieved sigh without realizing it—only to lock eyes with the boy walking right behind Duke Muivisk.

“?”

Jet-black hair. Pale, icy sky-blue eyes. He looked almost identical to Harun, save for the absence of a beauty mark under his right eye.

Harun’s older brother, the young heir of House Muivisk.

His name was Johan, wasn’t it?

Though they looked alike, the aura he gave off was completely different. When I flinched, Johan quickly broke eye contact. His eyes had already lost interest.

Now that one’s the real cold-blooded type.

Unlike with Harun, I couldn’t imagine telling him to act cute.

A realization dawned on me—Harun was only adorable because he was soft and squishy.

Murmur, murmur.

While I was reflecting on that, the entrance grew noisy again.

This time, some nobles, scholars, and mages rose to their feet. They weren’t as rowdy as the knights earlier, but the number of people standing was much larger.

What’s going on now?

“Haha. I heard there were many guests today, but it seems I know quite a few faces. I’m grateful for the greetings, but I have my own greetings to make as well.”

Pure white hair, clear golden eyes.

Even from afar, there was no mistaking him—the Duke of Spherom.

Wow. Albrecht’s richest man.

The father of the twins, the wealthiest man in the empire. I had only a brief moment to admire him before—

Ah.

Our eyes met.

“……?”

The Duke of Spherom widened his eyes when he saw me—and suddenly winked.

What was that supposed to mean?

Like the old imperial saying went, “There is no corner of the empire untouched by Spherom’s wealth.” The master of the empire’s purse strings had entered, and the hall erupted with a different kind of fervor.

“Your Grace Spherom…!”

Mages of the Tower, scholars of the Golden Hall, knights of the Order, even high-ranking nobles—all were eager to get a word in with the duke.

Unlike Duke Muivisk, who had entered to reverence and awe, Duke Spherom’s presence stirred ambition and opportunism.

Spherom, used to such receptions, dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

“Serious talk should be left for weighty occasions. For now, let us enjoy ourselves.”

There was no one in this hall who truly interested him.

Well… perhaps one.

The Duke’s golden eyes narrowed as they landed on a certain young lady.

Arellin of Halbern.

Baron Browning had praised her to no end, calling her an angel. Rumor had it she was a frail girl with little time left to live—so well-guarded by Duke Mehen that few had ever seen her in person.

Hmm.

Almost out of habit, his Golden Eye activated, revealing her hidden worth.

“Mm.”

At the sight before him, the duke let out a low groan.

He hadn’t paid much attention when his sons mentioned her, but—

Those symbols… I’ve never seen writing like that before.

Unaware of how his gaze made Arellin shrink back, the duke fell into thought.

I’ll have to investigate her.

He had avoided meddling with Halbern, but now that the Golden Eye was involved, he had no choice.

With his thoughts settled, Duke Spherom turned to greet Empress Azény with a pleasant smile.

The most noble, most wise woman of the empire returned his smile in kind.

“It has been a while, Your Grace.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty. I imagine your time is worth more than gold, so I am grateful you spared some to come here.”

“Hahaha. But this is the first tea party my sons have invited their father to. It is worth far more than gold.”

Though renowned for cultivating talent, the duke was known for failing at raising his sons. A brief sadness flickered across his face.

“I owe Your Majesty many thanks.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Truly. My boys have always benefited greatly from the Imperial Family.”

As he recalled the endless stream of disasters erupting daily from the Crown Prince’s palace—usually involving his twins—the duke forced a wry smile.

“They’ll change once they mature.”

“Well… will they really…?”

No one knew his sons better than he did. His uncertain expression betrayed his doubts.

“Believe in them.”

“Haa…”

Easy for you to say, Your Majesty.

“In any case, I humbly ask for your continued guidance.”

His words, bordering on shameless flattery, made Empress Azény laugh warmly.

“And I thank you, Duke, for getting along with my children. Please continue to do so.”

Though reassured by her kindness, the duke couldn’t help but sigh. His sons were his one unsolvable problem.

Looking at the Crown Prince—ten, no, a thousand times more admirable than his own boys—only deepened his gloom.

“Thank you for preparing such a splendid occasion, Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

“Thank you for coming, Duke Spherom.”

Compared to his sons—or rather, incomparable—the Crown Prince shone brightly. The duke’s heart ached with envy.

So enviable… so enviable it brought tears to his eyes.

If only my twins could be even a fraction of him…!

Crushing that futile hope, the duke made his way to his seat.

“Well, well. For once you both look presentable today, my sons.”

He had only ever seen them disheveled before making trouble—or in tatters after the fact. Seeing them look halfway decent was an unusual feeling.

“If your mother were here, she would have been pleased.”

His eyes grew distant as he thought of his wife, who had fled to the estate under the strain of childrearing.

“Mom-mom’s still recuperating.”

“Dad-dad, the divorce papers haven’t arrived yet?”

“……”

And whose fault is that?!

The duke nearly choked. His sons were the very definition of shameless.

“That’s strange. Mom-mom said she’d send the papers.”

“She said she’d dump Dad-dad.”

The duke sighed heavily.

What future awaited House Spherom?

This was why he had once begged his wife to bear another, more reliable heir… only to be heartlessly rejected.

And yet, since the twins had inherited the Golden Eye flawlessly, he couldn’t even strip them of their status as heirs.

“Hah. It’s all my fault.”

There were things even gold couldn’t buy.

He cast an envious look toward Duke Muivisk, who had succeeded in raising capable children.

Just then, amidst another round of commotion, the very person Duke Spherom had been waiting for appeared.

“Mehen!”

Arellin had brought along Mehen, her guardian, as well as the childcare squad and even Dylan.

But after a fierce internal debate, the final decision was that only Mehen and Lena—the noble-born member of the squad—would attend.

The squad had insisted her dignity must be upheld.

‘We can’t allow our lady to appear surrounded by attendants when His Grace the Duke himself won’t be there! What if she’s attacked?’

‘Yes, yes!’

Though Arellin was a little hurt, the squad was content just to have received invitations. They already planned to treasure them for life—and even pass them down to their descendants.

“Mehen, Lena. Thank you so much for coming!”

“Of course, my lady.”

It must have been an uncomfortable occasion, yet Lena’s serene smile made Arellin’s eyes mist over.

“If you’re that grateful, perhaps when we return you could attend a lecture on Ancient Aslaean Chronicles…”

“I don’t think so, Lena.”

“…Tch.”

Clicking her tongue, Lena abandoned her attempt to sneak in more study hours.

“The last guests have arrived.”

At Mehen’s words, Arellin and Lena lifted their heads.

As if to prove it, a shower of brilliant petals accompanied the booming voice of the herald:

“Entering now, by invitation of His Highness the Crown Prince—Her Majesty the Sovereign of Sirus and His Highness Prince Therion!”

The ruler of Sirus, robed in imperial regalia embroidered with the royal crest, and Prince Therion in his dress uniform.

At the entrance of two royals, everyone in the hall rose to their feet.

“Oh, well-decorated. Quite lovely.”

“Tasty things!”

The Sovereign of Sirus immediately appraised the hall’s décor with satisfaction, while Prince Therion, interested only in food, looked ready to bolt toward the banquet tables.

Catching his hand, the sovereign approached Empress Azény, whose sharp gaze chastised her wordlessly.

And yet, she did not miss the way every eye in the hall followed her.

“Mm.”

Stopping briefly in front of Halbern’s table, the Sovereign turned her head.

So hard to even get a glimpse…

Those soft, fragile eyes, as pink as rose petals, widened in surprise as they met hers.