CHAPTER 39…………….
“This is serious, very serious.”
A deep wrinkle formed on Isaac’s brow as he muttered under his breath.
“What on earth are you worried about this time?”
Sitting on the bed, Tiela loosened her thick golden hair and looked curiously at Isaac, who was pacing the room with his hands clasped behind his back.
It wasn’t unusual for her husband to act oddly, but ever since he retired, she could hardly remember the last time she had seen such a grave expression on his face.
When Tiela tapped the corner of the bed beside her, Isaac sat down eagerly, as if he had been waiting for the invitation. As she watched him quietly, he finally spoke with a solemn look.
“Tiela, listen. About the guest who came with Cody this time…”
“Oh my, you mean Prince Ian?”
Isaac’s eyes widened.
“You noticed?”
“Of course. How could I forget that face so easily?”
At first, she hadn’t been certain. But after observing him carefully, there were things that became clear.
For example, his gentle manner of speech—something hard to acquire if he had grown up rough—and his flawless table manners. Even though half his face was hidden, his noble features were obvious. And whenever his hair shifted to reveal his eyes, those vividly blue pupils betrayed him even more.
As the former confidante of the queen who bore the current king, Tiela hadn’t had many chances to interact with Ian, who was born of another mother. But every time she saw him, she thought how little he resembled his grandfather, the marquis.
“He’s grown into quite the fine man.”
Her eyes softened with nostalgia as she cupped her cheek.
“From the way he treats Cody, his personality seems unchanged too. If not for the circumstances, I’d be tempted to lock them in a room together and tell him to take responsibility for our darling. Hoho.”
What a terrifying joke. Isaac swallowed hard, recalling their own rather bloody yet romantic courtship.
He knew his wife’s comment came from concern—unlike their eldest daughter, who had openly declared she would never marry, their youngest still had no news to share despite meeting plenty of people. Still…
“My dear, regardless of the situation, that would be unfair to both of them. They’d both need to agree first!”
Of course, marriages among noble houses were usually political rather than romantic, but Isaac had never forced his children into such arrangements—except for his eldest son, Frederick. With plenty of land and power, he had no need for such measures.
But Frederick… was different. Strongly responsible but equally troublesome, Frederick had caused quite the scandal with women, leaving Isaac no choice but to intervene. Even though Frederick was now living happily with his wife, Isaac still remembered how he’d once feared ruining a young woman’s life.
Tiela tilted her head at his raised voice.
“Why? It worked pretty well on you, didn’t it?”
“That’s—!”
She was so beautiful, and so infuriating, bringing up memories he’d rather forget.
“You were so hopeless. Even when I gave you all the hints in the world, you just kept hesitating instead of proposing properly. In the end, I had to take matters into my own hands, remember?”
“Granted, I did mess up a little, but—wait, no, that’s not the point!”
‘Surely, you wouldn’t cast aside a woman who’s shared your bed, would you?’
He still remembered the shock when that beautiful woman smiled and embraced him that morning.
Yes, he had fallen for Tiela, sent her countless heartfelt letters, and courted her sincerely. But after being invited to stay at the Marquis Poliet’s estate, waking up to find Tiela lying next to him in nothing but a chemise… he had nearly broken into a cold sweat.
“Your father nearly killed me that day. I still remember it clearly.”
The marquis, famed for his swordsmanship, had almost struck him down. Looking back now, it was all just memories—but at the time, he thought his heart might stop.
“Father was a little… overzealous, yes.”
“He also didn’t think I was good enough.”
The kingdom’s ideal man was a knightly warrior. Isaac, who had always preferred books over swords, could never have been the marquis’s favorite.
He had been waiting for the right moment, plotting a perfect move—so that even if he proposed, Tiela’s family couldn’t refuse. But he had never expected such an unexpected twist.
Of course, that was partly why their marriage had gone through so swiftly. Still… it had nearly scared him to death.
“Still, I believed you’d be fine,” Tiela said with a smile.
“At the time, I felt like the lowest scoundrel alive.”
“Oh, nonsense. You were always a gentleman. Too much of one, actually—that was the problem.”
She shook her head with a small sigh.
“Really. Men who only swing swords and try to intimidate others—what barbarians. I much preferred a quiet scholar with longing eyes, one who could wait patiently.”
“M-my dear…?”
Her husband’s eyes widened like a startled rabbit as she cupped his cheek and smiled.
“A man who can’t wait has no charm. Our children seem to be finding their own partners well enough, but still…”
Her gaze softened, but there was a tinge of bitterness—her daughters were taking their time, and news was slow to come.
“So, what’s the real point?” she asked at last.
“Ahem, well…”
Living nearly forty years with a man as cunning as Isaac gave her more than enough intuition. She knew he already had a plan, even before he spoke.
“The ancients said: if you wish to uncover a man’s true heart, strike when he’s most vulnerable.”
“Yes, I know that. So, how do you intend to make His Highness vulnerable?”
Her smile said she knew exactly what he was plotting, but would let him talk anyway. Isaac swallowed and confessed.
“There’s no better way to read a man than through drink.”
“Oh my.”
“Since our youngest is home too, I thought we might bring out some casks from the cellar…”
His eyes gleamed like a cat staring at a fish. Tiela, however, only replied gently:
“Cody said your drinking isn’t what it used to be. Are you sure you’ll be alright?”
“I—I can still handle plenty of— ahem—just enough for a light toast.”
Quickly backpedaling under her sharp gaze, he made her green eyes soften again.
“I suppose we’ll see.”
“This year’s brew turned out well. Much better than last year’s batch.”
Isaac, pleasantly drunk, let out a satisfied sigh. They hadn’t even been drinking long, yet three barrels were already empty, stacked like trophies behind him.
Kallia had only sipped a few glasses. Honestly, both her father and her youngest sibling had drinking capacities far beyond what could be called human. Watching them down liquor like water, she often wondered where it all went.
The side dishes laid out on the table were nearly gone as well. She glanced at the young man across from her—his face still perfectly composed as he kept pace—then sighed.
“Cody, are you giving up already?”
“Oh, not a chance. Father, you’d better not drop first! The fun of drinking is in sharing, after all!”
“Hah! Exactly! That’s my girl—you know your stuff!”
Both of them, flushed with drink, laughed without pause. Cody downed the last of her cup and wiped her mouth with a broad grin before turning to her side.
Noah was staring intently at his empty glass, as though performing delicate work.
Huh.
“Noah, are you drunk?”
“No.”
He shook his head firmly. When she placed his hat back on his head, his neat forehead was revealed, his clear eyes gazing straight at her. Her heart gave a sharp jolt—curse his handsome face.
His healthy cheeks now bloomed with red.
“You said you can’t drink. You’re not pushing yourself, are you?”
“No.”
“Then… are you sleepy?”
“No.”
“…If I kissed you right now, would you be mad?”
“No… yes.”
Oh, he’s definitely drunk.
So it was true—his tolerance really was terrible. And yet, somehow, he clung to a sliver of reason. It was both adorable and amusing.
“You’re already drunk, aren’t you!”
Isaac laughed heartily, snatched Noah’s cup, and filled it again from the barrel—this time with a lighter golden apple wine. At least he showed some mercy. Still, if he truly had a conscience, he wouldn’t have refilled it at all.
“Father, he’s at his limit! Stop pouring!”
“Aww…”
“Gross!”
Isaac always grew overly cheerful when drunk. But who could find the antics of an old man’s drunken cuteness charming? Only Mother would, smiling through it with indulgence.
Cody scratched her arm and grimaced, but Isaac countered immediately.
“Our Cody says she doesn’t like men who can’t hold their liquor. At this rate, her future’s clear as day.”
“Father!”
Why did he always say such unnecessary things?!
“I-it’s fine. She’s far too good for me. I’m always just… relying on her…”
Even while drunk, Noah sat upright, stubbornly refusing to give in. Yet he still accepted the glass again without hesitation.
Was this acceptance—or rejection?
“Here, eat something too. You’ll ruin your stomach.”
When she pushed a plate of meat toward him, Noah looked up at her and smiled, dazzling enough to nearly make Cody drop the plate.
“Thank… you.”
Good gods, why is he so cute?!
With eyes like a gentle lamb, that handsome face was dangerously disarming. When she brushed her fingers across his flushed cheek, he leaned into her palm, nuzzling softly.
Cody’s conscience wavered, torn between reason and emotion. For a fleeting moment, her heart bargained with her mind.
Maybe I should just pull him into my arms, pretend I’m drunk too. That much should be fine… right?
