Episode 80

Yvonne stood close to Yurian, barely a sheet of paper’s distance between them. Yet, despite claiming he wanted a kiss, Yurian made no move to get closer.

“I already said I wouldn’t give you one.”

“I thought if I got this close, you might reconsider.”

Yurian smiled brightly as he looked at her. Although she seemed to have lowered her guard when he wiped away her tears earlier, now she appeared cautious once more.

“If you behave, I’ll think about it.”

“Being obedient is my specialty.”

Yvonne found herself chuckling softly, losing the will to banter any further.

“By the way, how long were you watching?”

She was curious how he had noticed her attempting to climb the tree. She was certain her tree-climbing attempts hadn’t looked graceful. After all, she had hugged the tree awkwardly, struggled, and even switched to another tree after failing to climb the first one.

“My room is directly above yours.”

“….”

“I saw you as soon as you tried to climb over the terrace.”

Yvonne’s face flushed with embarrassment at the thought of him witnessing the entire spectacle.

“At least you don’t seem to have a fear of terraces,” Yurian remarked.

“I actually developed a fear of heights.”

“You’ll be fine now,” he said confidently, as if certain his presence would somehow cure her.

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’ll prove it.”

“Prove wh—hey, wait a second!”

Before she could protest, Yurian hoisted Yvonne effortlessly onto his shoulder and, using his enhanced abilities, scaled the tree with ease. He carried her as if she weighed nothing, reaching the highest point in mere moments.

“I said wait!”

“And I did it in just a second.”

“Sigh…”

Yvonne gripped his collar tighter in frustration, holding on for dear life.

“You holding onto me like that feels wonderful,” Yurian said with a grin.

“What’s so wonderful about it?”

“It’d be better if I could feel it against my skin, but even through clothes, it’s nice.”

Yvonne, unsettled by his seemingly genuine tone, immediately let go.

“Ugh…”

She sighed deeply, meeting his gaze. His crimson eyes, glowing like dangerous stars, were filled with a mixture of bashfulness and crazed intensity.

“Yurian, your eyes really do look insane.”

“I’m glad it’s just my eyes.”

She was caught off guard by his strange honesty. She could tell he wasn’t lying, even if she wished he were. But one thing was clear: Yurian couldn’t hide anything from her.

“You can look down now,” he said.

“Do you think it’s okay to do this to someone with a fear of heights?”

“I’m sorry. But I wanted you to associate heights with me instead of fear.”

“….”

“You may find me bothersome, but at least I’m not scary, right?”

He was right. Yvonne found herself about to speak but instead looked down.

“Ah…”

It wasn’t as terrifying as before. Instead, the moonlit scenery and the swaying grass brought a sense of calm.

“Now look over there,” Yurian said, gesturing toward the view outside the estate.

Following his instruction, Yvonne turned her gaze toward the village lights flickering in the distance. Unlike the twinkling stars above, the warm glow of the village was like a soft, comforting fire.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

“Well, that’s true.”

Yurian laughed, clearly amused by her response. Yvonne, still holding onto his neck for stability, was resting securely in his arms. Yurian closed his eyes slightly, as if savoring the moment, and his lips moved subtly.

“Even if you look at me like that, I’m not going to kiss you,” Yvonne said firmly.

“You’re too harsh.”

“You did manage to shake me a bit with your tactics, though.”

“I shook you? That gives me hope.”

“Sure, go ahead and hope.”

Yvonne spoke dismissively but still smiled, then reached out and gently ran her fingers through Yurian’s hair. His dark hair, soft as if it had melted into the night, felt smooth under her touch.

On impulse, she kissed her own hand, then pressed it firmly against Yurian’s lips.

“That’s an indirect kiss.”

“Haha…”

Though Yurian laughed brightly, Yvonne could see, even in the dim light, that his eyes were wet and his throat was dry, as if he were swallowing nervously. The faint light from the nearby houses revealed his ears had turned a deep shade of red.

“If something like this makes me happy, I must be hopeless, right?”

“Yes, you are truly hopeless, Duke Leonhardt.”

“Yes.”

Yurian sighed contentedly, clearly pleased despite her teasing.

—

At the banquet for the King of Apentina, Yurian Leonhardt was present. However, the Yurian attending wasn’t the real Yurian but Feran, Yurian’s subordinate and a replication ability user.

“You don’t seem to be in good spirits, Duke,” remarked the King of Apentina.

Feran, posing as Yurian, smiled and raised his glass in a toast. The king laughed heartily and drained his cup, pleased with the gesture.

But there was a problem. While Feran looked like Yurian on the surface, as a mid-level ability user, he couldn’t replicate everything. Fortunately, Yurian’s muscular physique was often hidden beneath his uniform, so as long as Feran had a sturdy enough build, he could pass for Yurian for a few hours at most.

However, there was another, more glaring issue: the voice.

Voice replication was a challenge even for higher-tier ability users like Francis Jevenel. While physical appearances could be memorized and replicated easily, mimicking someone’s voice required mastering their tone and pitch, which was far more difficult.

As a result, Feran couldn’t speak at all. He had practiced mimicking Yurian’s speech patterns, but Yurian had a distinct deep, soothing voice, while Feran’s tone was higher-pitched and didn’t match his imposing physique.

Sweating nervously, Feran remained silent, occasionally smiling and nodding. After gauging the room, he excused himself with a smile, signaling that he needed to use the restroom.

Throughout the banquet, Feran couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The King of Apentina had praised Marquess Rohaten endlessly, yet the Marquess hadn’t attended the banquet at all.

“Sigh.”

Feran stepped out into the hallway, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. As he was about to step outside for some air, he noticed someone quickly ascending the stairs. Judging by the attire, it was one of the Apentina princes.

Feran found it suspicious. The prince had seemed distracted throughout the banquet.

Feran had memorized the king’s face as a precaution, though only enough to improvise if necessary. If things went south, he knew he could always escape disguised as Yurian.

Recalling Yurian’s clear stance on rewards and punishments, Feran reasoned that uncovering something useful could lead to a significant reward. With that in mind, he decided to follow the prince, moving quietly and keeping his footsteps light.

The prince, too, moved stealthily, checking his surroundings as he made his way to the top floor. Feran noticed the prince clutching a glowing orb, though he hadn’t yet activated it.

Feran knew exactly what the orb was.

It was an expensive device used by telepathic ability users to communicate. The orb was made from the heart of a powerful telepathic user, capable of sending messages to someone holding a matching orb. The rarity and cost of such an item meant only royalty, high-ranking nobles, or elite officials could afford it.

The fact that the prince held the orb so tightly while hurrying away from the banquet suggested he was about to engage in a serious conversation.

“Damn it,” Feran muttered under his breath, watching the prince anxiously check the orb before quickening his pace.

Holding his breath, Feran followed the prince as he climbed to the top floor of the banquet hall. Finally, the prince reached a small attic room and infused the orb with magic to activate the communication link.

“Speak.”

—Why did it take so long for you to answer?

“There were circumstances.”

The prince closed the attic door with a creak. Feran, pressing his ear against the door, held his breath and focused on eavesdropping.

“Did you deliver my message to His Majesty, Emperor Bricesys?”

—Unfortunately, without credible evidence, I can’t relay your words to His Majesty. Show us the proof you mentioned before.

“The Marquess didn’t attend the banquet. He was supposed to.”

—Strange. We’ve received reports on our end that Princess Yvonne is in Apentina.

“I’m certain. She has violet eyes and platinum blonde hair, and she’s wearing sapphire earrings—three on the left, one on the right.”

—We’ll send the knights.

Feran immediately recognized the voice on the other end.

It was none other than Francis Jevenel, the emperor’s loyal dog and a higher-tier ability user than himself.