Episode 25: Jealousy
“Before that, Your Majesty, Your Highness the Empress, I have something to say.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“May I take on the honor of teaching the Second Prince swordsmanship, as Her Highness once mentioned to me before?”
“You? The duke himself wants to personally train the Second Prince?”
The Emperor knew well that the Duke had once coldly rejected the Empress’s request, so he asked in surprise.
“Yes. After seeing the Second Prince today, I believe he has talent in swordsmanship.”
Hearing the duke’s praise, the Empress’s face brightened. If Duke Glois, the greatest swordsman in the Empire, formed a teacher-disciple relationship with the Second Prince, the prince’s power base would become even stronger. The Empress, having already forgotten her resentment toward the Duke, spoke with excitement.
“Truly? Duke Glois will personally teach the prince!”
“Yes. If entrusted to me, I will guide His Highness with utmost sincerity.”
“Good, good! Duke, guide the prince well!”
The Emperor laughed heartily and patted the Duke on the shoulder. When the Emperor left with the Empress and the prince, the Princess approached the Duke.
“Duke, is *this* the plan you were thinking of? I thought you said you would remain neutral?”
The princess felt betrayed at how the duke, who had insisted he would not get involved in the succession conflict, now seemed to side with the Empress.
“Yes. I *will* remain neutral.”
The duke calmly replied without bothering to explain his plan.
“I hope so. Even if the prince and empress seem powerful now, in the end, it is *I* who will take the throne. Do not become my enemy.”
With a cold warning, she turned away.
—
As the duke spoke with the princess, several men who had been sneaking glances at Ella’s refined beauty approached her when she was left alone.
“Good evening. I am Noah, accountant of the Simon Merchant Guild.”
“I am Vincent, a physician newly assigned to the public hospital.”
“Beautiful lady, if it isn’t rude, may we know your name?”
Ella, who had been waiting for the duke while drinking champagne alone, forced an awkward smile and took a step back when the unfamiliar men asked for her name.
“I am Ella, but I’m sorry — I’d like to be alone.”
But the men ignored her words and stepped even closer.
“Don’t stay alone. Would you honor me with a dance?”
The moment the duke saw the man hold out his hand to ask Ella for a dance, he strode toward them, exuding a threatening aura.
“N-no, it’s fine…”
Before Ella even finished her refusal, the duke smacked the stranger’s hand away — hard.
“Ack—! W-what…!”
The man cried out, staring at his quickly swelling red hand.
“Get lost. How dare you—”
He almost yelled *how dare you ask her to dance before me?*, but he swallowed the rest of the words, afraid it might sound like **jealousy** in Ella’s eyes.
“H-hey, let’s go.”
Recognizing Duke Glois, the man pulled his companions away. The one who wanted to protest hesitated, then left as well.
“Duke, why are you so angry? Did something go wrong with the princess?”
Seeing his frightening expression, Ella thought something serious happened, but the duke only frowned and looked away.
“Is it… the perfume? Is your head hurting again?”
Knowing he hated strong perfume scents, Ella asked carefully. The duke paused, then nodded quietly. Ella relaxed and led him toward a quieter place.
“Feeling better now? There aren’t many people here, so the smell shouldn’t be strong.”
She brought him to a small pond in a secluded garden and studied his expression.
“I’m fine.”
The duke absently played with Ella’s hand — her pale, slender fingers entwined with his rough ones — pretending to look away though he enjoyed the feeling.
“Good. But we should return before the Emperor leaves, so let’s stay here a little longer and go back.”
Whenever the normally cold, sharp duke showed a childlike side, Ella couldn’t help wanting to comfort him.
Others called him a mad duke based on appearances, but he was in truth kinder than anyone.
As they stood in silence, the image of the man asking Ella for a dance flashed in the duke’s mind. If he had arrived a bit later… Ella might have taken that man’s hand. The thought made his blood boil.
After hesitating, the duke extended his hand with formal grace — afraid someone else might steal Ella’s first dance.
“Ella, will you give your *first dance* to me?”
Ella hesitated at his uncharacteristically gentle manner. The duke then took her hand and placed it on his waist naturally.
“I practiced dancing — it would be a waste if I didn’t use it.”
With that excuse, Ella nodded and leaned into him. Her heart pounded so loudly she couldn’t tell if it was hers or his. She lowered her head, trying to hide her flushed face.
His lean yet firm muscles and clean scent made her dizzy. The large hands holding her waist seemed to grow warmer, and Ella felt as if her heart would burst.
Dancing alone together in the quiet garden, the duke also grew tense — his gaze unconsciously drifting to her soft red lips.
Once he focused on her lips, his thoughts blurred with desire. Afraid he might act impulsively, he let go of her waist with great restraint.
“That’s enough. Let’s return. From the commotion, it seems the Emperor has left.”
“Ah… yes.”
The duke walked ahead quickly, trying not to look at her face. Ella followed him out of the dreamlike garden.
—
The day after he offered to train the prince, the Empress hurriedly sent word to schedule lessons.
“Duke, just *scare him a little*. Make him refuse the lessons himself, alright?”
Knowing the duke too well, Ella repeatedly reminded him before he left for the palace. The duke simply nodded.
“I’ll be back.”
“Good luck.”
He headed to the training grounds where the prince awaited.
Arriving first, the duke was warming up when the prince arrived with a crowd of attendants and maids.
“Duke, I had no choice but to come… but I’m not interested in swordsmanship. Let’s keep it light.”
The prince stretched lazily as if he had just woken from a nap.
“Is that so? However, I promised His Majesty and Her Highness that I would give my best. I must warm up first, so please wait.”
As he casually swung his sword up and down, he infused aura and *accidentally* sliced through a massive tree behind the prince.
— **KWAANG!**
Startled by the crash, the prince jumped up, nearly choking on the fruit his maid was feeding him.
“D-D-Duke! What was… that…!”
A centuries-old tree had been cleanly cut with a flick of the duke’s wrist. Only then did the prince remember who stood before him.
Duke Ruichen Glois — the demon of the 10-year war, feared by both allies and enemies — still commander of the empire’s strongest border army.
The prince, who earlier complained about sword practice, changed his tone instantly.
“D-Duke Glois… since it is the first day, perhaps we should start lightly?”
He asked politely, hands clasped. The duke nodded.
“Then I shall outline your future training. Each day, you will improve stamina: run ten laps around the grounds and repeat the basic sword stance 1,000 times. Afterwards, we will spar to hone real combat sense.”
As the duke sternly listed the regimen, the prince’s face went pale.
“I-I have never done such training. I cannot do that!”
“Then we may skip stamina training and instead develop combat sense through sparring — the fastest method to improve swordsmanship.”
“R-really? Then let us do that.”
Relieved, the prince reached for his wooden sword, convinced the duke wouldn’t *truly* spar with royalty.
“Bring my wooden sword.”
“Not a wooden sword — a *real* one, Your Highness.”
“A-real sword? You mean to spar… with real blades?”
“Yes. A duel like real combat.”
The duke swung his sword — each stroke slicing the wind with a chilling sound. The prince trembled, overwhelmed by his aura, and took up a real sword with shaky hands. His legs wobbled before the match even began.
