5 – Act 2, Chapter 3

Inside the train heading toward Northampton, despite being first class, it was somewhat noisy due to the crowds setting off on their journeys. Because the cold had not yet subsided, youthful faces were flushed with red. After watching the excited women for a moment, Aaron’s interest faded, and he rested his chin on his hand, looking back out the window.

Toot—!

The loud whistle of a steam locomotive echoed, signaling the competition between the London and North Western Railway and the Great Western Railway. Amidst whispers that sounded like the chirping of small birds, Aaron traced back old memories. The scenery passing by the window vanished as quickly as the time that had flowed away.

The long winter had passed, and spring was preparing its stage.

The stagecoach arrived at the country house within the main estate of the Duke of Cornwall, the largest and most magnificent residence in Northampton. Aaron stepped out of the carriage and scanned the exterior of the mansion. The villa, seldom visited, possessed a coexistence of splendid appearance and gloom. Meanwhile, the servants of Worburn House became unusually busy at the sudden appearance of the young heir, who had arrived unannounced after several years.

“You have arrived.”

The butler, who had rushed out after receiving the housekeeper’s report, bowed his head. He was the manager who had replaced Bernard, who had moved to London with the head of the house a few months prior.

Despite the utmost courtesy of the greeting, Aaron passed by with an indifferent expression.

“I was surprised that you came without notice. Shall I prepare a meal?”

“Prepare a horse for me.”

“A horse, you say…”

Aaron did not enter the villa but turned away. It was the entrance to the forest. The footsteps of the estate manager following behind him became more urgent.

“Young Master, do you intend to hunt?”

“To Ramdiff Forest.”

At the brief explanation, the butler stammered, his face flashing with shock.

“Young Master, that place is—!”

His stride toward the forest was stubborn and relentless. The face of the servant following anxiously was pale with fear and worry.

Since the hunting competition incident years ago, Worburn had been maintained with only the bare minimum of repairs. The head of the Cornwall family and his sons also spent their vacations at other provincial estates during the parliamentary recess, never setting foot in Northampton.

“Young Master!”

The desperate cry was not enough to stop the young master. By the time he reached the garden entrance, the servants were gasping for breath. Finally, the old butler closed his eyes tight and blocked Aaron’s path.

“You cannot. Young Master, I beg of you.”

“Move. You’re fearless, considering you’ll be badly hurt if you’re struck by a horse.”

“Young Master, the Master ordered that no one be allowed into Ramdiff Forest. You must not go any further.”

Only then did the relentless steps come to a halt.

“Your loyalty is impressive.”

“Young Master…”

“A great sense of professional duty, but it will be of no use once you’re dead, will it?”

“Y-Young Master.”

“If you don’t want to die, it would be best to move out of the way immediately. If you wish to test it, I won’t stop you. Whether you’ll be beaten to death by the Duke for disobeying orders, or shot to death by me right here.”

The voice leaking through his teeth was extremely cold and ominous. The seasoned butler of Worburn realized that his plea had no effect on this ruthless man. The meaningless resistance did not last long. A well-trained white horse galloped past the defeated servants.

As the horse reached its destination, it gradually slowed down. It seemed the landscaping had been managed; the once lush thickets, vines, and shrubs had vanished, replaced by brilliant flowers. Following the horse as it came to a stop, Aaron gazed at the end of the straight path.

“Whoa.”

Aaron slowly guided the horse into a clearing. The heavy hooves stamped into the wet earth, carving a path before coming to a complete stop.

The forest he returned to left no trace behind.

Unlike the surrounding lush greenery, not a single proper blade of grass could be found where the cottage once stood. Only the marks of being completely burnt and charred told of something that had once existed there.

After staring at the site of the cottage with a vacant expression for a long time, Aaron spotted something and dismounted.

“….”

His Adam’s apple moved sharply. Then, all movement stopped. Like a discarded statue, he remained motionless for a long while, staring at the object his foot had brushed against. The gaze looking down was intensely cold yet hot, frigid yet fervent.

Slowly dropping to one knee, Aaron brushed away the haphazardly piled dirt with his hand. Soon, a fragment of broken marble touched his fingertips. As Aaron playfully rolled the piece over the soil, his eyes gradually clouded.

It was merely a meaningless piece of stone, from which one couldn’t even tell what kind of work it had broken off from.

“Haha…”

A scoff he couldn’t suppress leaked from his lips. His face distorted rapidly. Aaron didn’t know what expression he should wear at this moment. It was simply absurd that a piece of stone, despite being kicked, smashed, and burned, had survived until the end.

Even though it meant nothing.

Even though nothing remained.

“I express my sincere regrets that you were a loyal customer of my company in the past, but no one forced opium upon the Earl. Was it not entirely Lord Wizfeldon’s choice to take and enjoy the drug?”

The contempt was sincere.

The loathing was also true.

And yet, in the gaze that had looked straight at him that night, there had certainly been a strange heat. Just like that day long ago. That night of vain promises.

“Who was it that stayed behind, unable to leave this place, thinking someone was looking for them?”

Examining the pathetic fragment here and there, Aaron chuckled. It had been expensive marble, but in the end, it had been broken and burned, becoming a shabby piece of stone whose form was hard to recognize. The time he had lived through was no different from this unsightly broken piece of stone.

A life where all desires were castrated for a lifetime.

No, to define it more accurately, every desire he pursued of his own will had to be castrated and suppressed. Despite possessing many things people desired, he was always a deficient and skewed human being. A truly sated and wicked agony, one that could never be understood by anyone.

A libertine and failed life, so completely lost that he didn’t even know where it had gone wrong.

There could be no words that described his life better than those.

A lonely laugh vanished into the wind.

“….”

After watching in silence for a long time, Aaron put the stone fragment in his pocket and stood up. Staggering for a moment, he slowly steadied his breathing and headed toward where the horse was tied. His steps were heavier than iron.

On the night he returned to London after finishing his short itinerary in Northampton, a letter sealed with a familiar wax emblem awaited its owner.

The sender of the letters was all the same. A crest bought with money. The man he had been avoiding—both in replies and meetings—for about a month since their last encounter. Reading the sweet words that filled the stationery with cold eyes, Aaron Wizfeldon realized that he must eventually reach a conclusion.

✧ ✧ ✧

Briston House, located on the outskirts of London, was a business townhouse that MacQueen Lester had used since the days when Klaus was the representative. It was a place used for secret meetings with necessary personnel, strictly distinguished in purpose from Emblin, his official London residence.

All the staff were hired from thoroughly trustworthy sources, and once a schedule was set, no one was allowed near the mansion for about two days before and after the date. Security within Briston House was thorough in many ways, including arranging the carriage waiting area near the back gate, accessed through a different passage rather than the main entrance.

In short, Briston House was a secret meeting place for convening with government cabinet officials, members of the Whig Party, or certain moderate Tory members.

It was the first time someone had been invited there for purely private reasons, rather than for political persuasion. The choice to invite the heir of a rival family to Briston was quite a gamble even for MacQueen. It was a space where many secrets were scattered.

“….”

The face of the man sitting in the chair waiting for someone was full of anxiety. Inside the room, where external light was completely blocked by several layers of shutters and thick grey twill curtains, it was darker than night. If it weren’t for the lamps lighting various spots, one wouldn’t even be able to walk.

As time passed, the speed of the fingers tapping the armrest increased. Although he sat in the chair pretending to be relaxed and reading a book, the page remained stuck in place for a long time, not easily turning to the next. It was while he was meaninglessly flipping the page.

Click.

Despite the distance, the sound of the doorknob turning was audible. It was a sound so clear and intense it was almost frightening.

‘It’s him.’

Because he stood up abruptly, the book tumbled to the floor. It was the moment the reputation of Adam Smith’s The Wealth of Nations hit the ground.

‘He’s here.’

Without hesitation, MacQueen hurried down the stairs. Despite the few steps, his heart pounded violently as if he had run a long race.

‘To my mansion.’

MacQueen found it hard to understand his own state. It felt as if his head, body, and heart were operating independently. More accurately, he even had the ridiculous thought that there might be another man inside him.

By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs and headed for the main door, the door was already half-open. MacQueen was dumbfounded to find that even the front door hadn’t been locked. Didn’t he prioritize security above all else at Briston? Just as he felt a sense of fear at the unfamiliar sensation, MacQueen turned his head, startled by the sound of cautious footsteps.

“….”

Sunlight poured through the open gap of the door. Amidst the bright light stood a man with hair even brighter than the light and a pale complexion.

It was truly a reunion after a long time.

The young Earl of the Cornwall family had an expression as if he couldn’t understand why he was here. He was dressed somewhat casually. His hair, which he always kept neatly slicked back, was not groomed today and naturally covered his forehead, making him look several times younger than usual. Observing the face that subtly mixed the feeling of a boy and a young man, MacQueen realized anew that the man standing before him was quite a bit younger than himself.

“I…”

Contrary to his desire to hurriedly pull him in, MacQueen couldn’t easily continue his words and merely gazed at the one who had come to find him. The handsome features were so devoid of emotion that it was difficult to gauge what he was thinking. It felt as if hot blood had surged back and burned his throat, leaving him unable to speak. It was the other party who spoke first in the tedious silence.

“The mansion is too dark.”

At the grumpy tone, MacQueen finally snapped out of it and replied.

“…You have found your way well.”

His voice barely came out after a long while. He pretended to be composed, but it was a poor performance; his voice was so choked up that even a novice would have laughed. Only after coughing a few times did MacQueen fully close the door. His touch was clumsy. Once the incoming light was blocked, the interior of the mansion had to rely entirely on the light of oil lamps.

“I suppose this is a place for plotting.”

Aaron scanned the interior of the mansion carelessly and muttered mischievously.

“That is not the case.”

“Why are all the doors closed?”

“Is it too dark? I will light more lamps.”

“Forget it.”

Following his elegant movements, gold-threaded hair scattered naturally over his forehead. To suppress the urge to touch it, MacQueen took a deep breath and guided Aaron.

The path to the lobby was simple, and there were not many rooms. Every door was double-blocked, and every window was covered with thick curtains and shutters, permitting not a single ray of light. It was a structure that allowed one to infer that countless secret deals had taken place.

“It’s a strange structure no matter who looks at it.”

“It is not a mansion I built. It is a purchased building. If there is a problem with the design, it is the responsibility of the previous owner, not mine.”

“Hmph.”

After looking around the mansion for a while, Aaron moved toward the drawing room without seeking the owner’s permission. While thinking that attitude was brazen, MacQueen hurried to follow behind him. It was a natural habit ingrained in him.

“There is something I wish to say.”

The man stopped walking and traced the decoration of the red yew chair. His bloodless fingers did not apply much pressure.

“Please, say as much as you wish.”

Struggling to suppress his gaze that kept drifting toward the man, MacQueen spoke, pretending to be relaxed. The heavy emotions settling in were unsightly.

“I intend to inherit and adhere to my family’s political position.”

The concise answer cut through the silent space. The other party continued his business calmly, with a face that didn’t care at all about the bewilderment MacQueen might feel.

“As long as my father is a Tory, I am also a Tory, and in conjunction with the opium tariff bill you advocate, I will cast a dissenting vote in the House of Lords regarding the troop deployment bill until the end. Even if it weren’t because of my father, I also oppose the war, and that opinion will not change.”

“Earl.”

“Do not interrupt me.”

“….”

At the frost-laden tone, MacQueen swallowed his words. While he didn’t understand why he had to obey such a trivial command, his body silently followed the other’s lead.

“As I told you before, I know you are investigating me and my family. It is not a new fact, and I too have placed people to watch you and Klaus. I will not tell you to stop. Only…”

Aaron slowly opened his eyes. The image of a man who hid as many truths as possible entered his sight. Because he hadn’t slept properly for several days, his mind was not clear.

“I have no hobby of sharing what is mine with others.”

A fierce spark ignited in the eyes that met directly.

Mine.

My possession.

At the meaning that no lie would be tolerated, MacQueen unconsciously swallowed hard. A command that wasn’t quite a command to settle everything that could become a scandal. That arrogant man never knew how to speak in riddles. His heart raced at the brazenness of revealing a greedy possessiveness without a shred of shame. He was almost on the verge of laughing.

“Regarding the engagement issue with the Lenzdoor family, resolving it cleanly—”

The words could not continue. The rude back-alley merchant of humble origin pulled the noble, who was pouring out annoying words without hesitation, into his embrace.

The scent of a cold wind, announcing that winter had not yet ended, clung to the tip of the nose rubbing against the nape and cheek. The movements that resisted for a moment soon subsided.

“Ah. Aaron, Aaron.”

To hide the expression distorting with disgust, MacQueen hugged the slightly thinner body more tightly. As he lifted his head, green eyes filled with contempt shone menacingly.

What a joke.

Who was the one actually in marriage talks with the Duke of Newcastle’s family?

“I have waited for you.”

Contrary to his mocking heart, his lips trembled ridiculously. Even as he spoke, MacQueen thought his acting was quite good. The low, slightly trembling tone would make anyone who heard it mistake him for a man fallen in love.

“You cannot imagine how much I regretted letting you go that night.”

“….”

“Nor how anxious I have been.”

The handsome face, whispering slowly, frowned slightly.

After the meeting at Emblin House, MacQueen had sent several letters to Pellinton House, Cornwall’s residence, for nearly a month. However, despite his efforts, not a single reply returned. At first, he remained relaxed, calling it a battle for superiority, but as the days grew longer, anxiety surged.

Would that cautious man hide further inside his shell because of one mistake? Would he regret it? Would he try to cover it up as if it never happened? Due to the encroaching anxiety, MacQueen found it difficult to concentrate even on his work.

Of course, until the end, MacQueen regarded that turmoil merely as the fear of missing the biggest weakness to attack the opponent.

“Informing you of this place is like a promise that there will be no secrets from the Earl from now on.”

The act of sending the address of Briston House by letter to the heir of a politically opposing family was a kind of gamble. Following the night he first visited Emblin, that foolish Earl had entered Briston House twice, solely of his own will. It was a clear choice and decision that could not be dismissed as a mistake. The more he chewed over the fact that Aaron Wizfeldon had visited the mansion by his own will, the more MacQueen became intoxicated with a sense of victory.

“You cannot imagine how much I have waited for you from this morning until now.”

“….”

“Whenever I heard the slightest sound, I rushed down, wondering if perhaps you had arrived. How can I express in words the despair I felt when the door did not open?”

Separate from his cold mind, sweet words, as if his tongue were coated in honey, flowed effortlessly from between his lips. Unlike MacQueen, who clung to him as if afraid to lose him for even a second, Aaron’s arms were awkwardly draped around the other’s waist. The obsession that he must not let that cautious and quick-witted rogue feel even the slightest awkwardness drove MacQueen further into acting as a man blinded by love.

“Aaron.”

As he lay in his arms without reacting, MacQuan pressed the man. As expected, the one whose name had been called trembled slightly.

“Regardless of the circumstances, I hope you will trust me. You said you put people on me. You are more than welcome to do so. In consultation with the Duke of Devonshire, I was already adjusting the timing of my engagement break with Lady Elisha. Political views are also not an issue. You do not need to tolerate me, and I, for my part, will fulfill my role in the Chamber according to my own convictions, without being conscious of you. I do not even ask for that much. Just…”

The fingers that had been hovering in the air finally settled cautiously on MacQuan’s waist. He was a truly cautious and sensitive man. MacQuan clicked his tongue inwardly and rubbed his face against Aaron’s shoulder. A pleasant scent emanated from the lean body. A satisfied smile curled his lips.

“Yes. For now, within Westminster, you and I can never be mixed. I will not lie and say I am not investigating you and the Cornwall family, but that is a decision and action as MacQueen Lester, a Member of Parliament aligned with the Whig Party. I must find weaknesses. I will diligently search for yours and Cornwall’s. Only then will it be advantageous for me.”

Holding the body in his arms more tightly, MacQuan spat out words that were a mixture of lies and truth. As the conversation continued, emotions and memories became a tangled mess, clouding his mind. Pushing aside the unpleasant sensation, he drove in the final wedge.

“However, I will never use our emotions or our relationship for my own purposes. I swear it on my name and my life. My heart will be delivered to you solely as a heart.”

Silence followed the poignant confession.

“No wonder you’re a businessman. You have a silver tongue.”

“Why do you push me away? Even though I cling to you this much, can you still not trust me?”

The body that had been breathing quietly in MacQuan’s embrace for a long time flinched. The fingertips gripping the firm body trembled faintly.

“……Because you always tell lies.”

Seeing that Aaron was desperately clutching his vest, contrary to his crooked words, MacQuan smiled more deeply. It was the expression of a victor who had perfectly grasped the opponent’s vulnerability. He decided to willingly grant a cheap bit of sympathy to that pitiful loser.

“What an unfair thing to say.”

MacQuan smiled insolently and gently pushed the other’s face with his cheek. The gaunt cheek moved along with him without effort. Beneath long eyelashes, eyes of an indescribable hue sparkled. It was a color so intense that, for a brief moment, he felt himself falling into a depth he could not fathom. Soon, their noses brushed, and warm lips met.

Theodore.

Aaron swallowed the name he could not call. The hand, where the scars had vanished, precariously held onto a longing memory. The short kiss ended, and the warmth that had lingered for a moment disappeared. When he opened his eyes again, he saw a man with a radiant smile that seemed to swallow the sun. Feeling a strange, suffocating emotion rising from somewhere, Aaron simply looked at him without a word.

His dog could not smile like that. He had always been at a loss, seeing Aaron return in such a wreck. Aaron only knew that absurd, bitter smile—the one that dared to pity and sympathize with him.

You didn’t smile like that.

“Still, since you’ve come to me once more, may I assume you’ve accepted my proposal?”

“…….”

Interpreting the continuing silence as an affirmation, MacQuan sought no further answer and pressed his dry lips against the other’s again.

A hot tongue filled the membranes. Aaron rubbed his lips more roughly. A laugh he couldn’t suppress leaked out, smelling of a fishy stench. The strength of the arms embracing him desperately, the gentle stroking touch, the refreshing scent lingering at the tip of the nose, the lips casually uttering sweet lies, and the distinct features acting out love—nothing was lacking in completing this ridiculous play.

The white sheets were crumpled into a mess. Even as the rear was widened with plenty of oil, the kissing did not stop.

“Nngh……”

The golden eyebrows furrowed slightly at the sensation of fingers pushing relentlessly between his legs. The sheets, soaked with spilled oil, repeatedly clung to and peeled away from his body. A bright red tongue flickered between parted lips. Unable to bear the gap, MacQuan bit the other’s lips again and swept the inside of the mouth with his tongue.

MacQuan leaned down further and grazed the reddened, swollen nipples. Because he had spent a long time sucking them, they were plump and particularly prominent and luscious. Since it was the chest of another man, it might have been disgusting, but it was strangely sweet, and the more he sucked, the thirstier he became. Despite never having had intercourse with the same sex, there was no hesitation in the act of craving a man’s body. It was an unfamiliar desire.

After a brief moment of conflict, MacQuan sucked deeper into Aaron’s chest, which was already wet with saliva. A pained moan poured over the crown of his head. It was a warm breath. His eyes shone dangerously as he watched the areolae grow redder and wider.

“Stop……”

Cold hands covered both of MacQuan’s ears. The temperature was so chilly that his sweat cooled instantly. At the force pulling his head, MacQuan tilted it back. The other’s eyes, blurred with pleasure, were drenched. Those eyes, stained not by opium but by the pleasure he provided, were etched into his mind strangely. MacQuan suddenly felt the urge to lick away the tears clinging to those long corners of the eyes.

“What is it?”

“I don’t like you.”

“For someone saying that, your lower half is quite hard.”

“You’re talking nonsense. Ah……”

MacQuan lightly pressed Aaron’s temple, where sweat was flowing, with his thumb. As if he didn’t dislike it, the man smiled with a tilted lip. It was a sound as faint as a breath, but since even that was pleasing, MacQuan pressed his lips against him and laughed lowly. It felt as if his chronic headache was disappearing.

“Open your lips.”

While keeping the face fixed so it couldn’t move, a series of small kisses followed. As the laughter deepened, the bodies clung to each other desperately, longing to be even closer. It was a natural act, as if they were originally one body. Without even realizing his own uninhibited behavior, MacQuan stripped off the rest of the shirt and tossed it aside. The completely naked bodies touching were hot, but the hands that touched sporadically were still cold.

“Your hands are cold.”

MacQuan buried his lips in the palm where almost no warmth could be felt. They’re cold, his whisper was full of love.

“They’ve always been.”

Staring blankly at the ceiling, Aaron answered softly. His body grew even hotter at the touch of hands continuously stroking his armpits and sides. His neck and the area below the collarbone were covered in red marks. Hot breaths were exchanged.

MacQuan was equally strained due to his member, which was erect to its limit. He was busy suppressing the urge to immediately spread the rounded flesh and insert himself to the end. Despite knowing it was impossible, a hurried thirst arose from the illusion that he already knew the place hidden between those deep hills.

“Ugh.”

The one held in his arms frowned lowly and let out a shallow breath. The smooth corners of the eyes were flushed red with heat. Eventually, the entrance, opened by the intruder, began to swallow him, slowly but steadily.

As he inserted his fingers into the hot inner walls and shook them lightly from side to side, Aaron furrowed his brow in discomfort, yet he arched his hips to make it easier for the other to insert. Sweat flowed down the smooth line of his back. The hand pushing the shoulder away was not exerting much force.

“Ah……”

Seeing Aaron Wizfeldon steadily feeling pleasure despite the discomfort, MacQuan suddenly felt a sense of incongruity. There was something subtly skilled about it. It was a reaction like someone accustomed to acts with a man. Though it shouldn’t be possible.

“Perhaps……”

“……What.”

“No. Nothing.”

The intention to question the denial was lost in the heat that touched him again. He had no intention of asking, but a lingering uneasiness remained. Every time their hands touched, every time they kissed, the man was dealing with him skillfully.

MacQuan imagined Aaron Wizfeldon kissing someone other than himself, rubbing bare skin, spreading his legs, and wailing while embracing a member in this lewd hole. The unpleasantness, the degree of which was hard to guess, ensured the thought didn’t last long.

It’s a baseless thought.

This cautious man could not have carelessly thrown his body around.

Such a noble man.

A pitch-black emotion, a mixture of doubt and denial, surged up from deep within his chest. Sparks resembling killing intent flew from his eyes. MacQuan withdrew the fingers that had been carefully stretching the entrance and turned Aaron over. He did not want to see a face stained with pleasure.

“What, ngh……”

Before he could be flustered by the change to a prone position, an increased number of fingers entered the slightly open hole. The entrance, thickened with oil, swallowed the fingers easily with a squelching sound.

“Hngh!”

Breath stopped along with a tight sensation. The thinly trembling body stimulated a somewhat violent heart. Unable to overcome the pitch-black flames burning with extreme intensity, MacQuan brought his remaining hand to Aaron’s member. Despite the violent insertion, thick pubic hair tangled over the erect member. It was a color slightly darker than hair. In a fit of spite, MacQuan gripped the other’s pubic hair strongly.

“Ah……”

The lips parted wide, unable to withstand the unfamiliar pain, but the screams containing that pain scattered even longer at the hand that repeatedly inserted strongly.

“Stop it!”

Slap—!

Unable to bear the pain, Aaron pushed his upper body up and struck MacQuan’s cheek.

“Stay still.”

“You, you—!”

Regardless of his reddened cheek, MacQuan strongly pressed one of Aaron’s shoulders and pinned him back to the bed. With narrowed eyes, he watched the back turning red with humiliation and anger. A brutality and longing that he himself found hard to understand churned violently within him.

“……Are you hurt?”

“Let, let go…… ugh—!”

MacQuan began to stretch the narrow entrance again with his remaining hand. The body, unable to withstand the shock, struggled fiercely, but that too did not last long against the hand ravaging the inside.

“Ah, ngh!”

MacQuan pressed his wet body close and whispered quickly into the other’s ear.

“What if someone hears you?”

“Mm, nngh—”

“Are you planning to let everyone hear such shameful sounds?”

At the explicit words, the prone body stiffened for a moment. At that sight, the fierce corners of his eyes curved happily. He had the illusion that the body moving and heating up according to his hand was like an expensive instrument crafted with care by a master.

“It… hurts……”

“Just a little more, okay?”

Whether the warning had worked, Aaron did not let out a single moan even as the inner walls were roughly thrust. Instead, deep bite marks were carved into the arm he had willingly offered, but MacQuan didn’t even feel the pain. Even amidst the anger, his member was steadily erect, curving completely toward his belly.

“Mmph, nngh!”

“I can’t stand it. I want to put it in. I want to go inside right now. May I put it in? Aaron, may I insert into you?”

“Not yet, no……”

“Please, Aaron.”

MacQuan gripped his member, which was so erect that pre-cum was flowing, and aligned the blunt glans with the entrance. The glistening inner walls were twitching as if to swallow the member immediately. As he pushed forward with strength in his waist, the wrinkled inner walls parted slightly and began to slowly take in the tip of the glans.

“Nngh……”

Despite having cried out that it hurt, the body beneath slightly lifted its hips to make insertion easier. That appearance, so accustomed to acts with a man, once again sent MacQuan’s heart, overflowing with malice, into a turbulent surge.

“Ugh!”

The member, which had been inserted up to the glans, was roughly pulled out again. The gaze upon the moderately opened and heated entrance was cold and ruthless, contrasting with the heat of pleasure. Between the faint halos of light, the white buttocks were revealed obscenely. Driven by an unknown, intense desire, MacQuan leaned down and buried his face in the deep cleft.

“What are you… nngh……”

Despite the shocked reaction, MacQuan did not stop his actions. As he swept the perineum and the entrance with his long tongue, the hole twitched violently. Even if he pretended to hate it, the body’s reaction was honest. The smooth and elegant body was growing hot with sexual arousal.

“Mmm, ngh……”

The tongue movements became bolder, not stopping at licking the wrinkles but spreading the butt cheeks and entering the open hole without hesitation. Every time he licked and sucked the intimate place, intentionally making vulgar sounds, Aaron gasped for breath and gripped the sheets.

“Ha. Ngh!”

The entrance, smeared with oil and saliva, twitched on its own. MacQuan spread the buttocks more to make sucking easier or increased the number of fingers to thrust roughly. Every time the tongue and fingers stirred the inner walls, the white body convulsed and leaped.

MacQuan felt a cruel euphoria that the one who should be at the highest place was pinned beneath him. That was why, even while burying his face between the man’s legs, sucking and licking like a mating dog, he felt no shame. He simply wanted to defile this person, this promiscuous person, with his own fluids. He hoped that through this act, this noble person would remain only as a vulgar man driven mad by sexual desire.

“May I put it in now?”

Aaron still had his face buried in the sheets, not showing his expression. All that was visible was the round back of his head and his firm body. It was a silent permission. MacQuan gripped the shaft of his fully erect member and pressed his body against him.

“Ah, Aaron!”

“Agh.”

“Huu.”

Sighing lowly, MacQuan pressed the wrinkles of the inner wall with his thumb and rubbed them with the glans. The glistening hole was already sufficiently wet. His tip was also drenched, sliding around the inner walls several times. After repeated attempts, the glans touched again. As the inner walls opened little by little, the body beneath instantly stiffened with tension.

As much as he applied force, the entrance opened, but because the circumference of the glans exceeded the limit, the hole could not easily swallow the remaining part. As the slippery tip repeatedly entered and exited slightly, it was now MacQuan who became impatient.

“Please…… relax a little.”

“Wait, ngh!”

“Aaron, relax.”

MacQuan pressed a bit harder, longing for the other to open his body. As he pushed in slowly, the fully erect member began to enter the other’s body, slowly but steadily. The hot membranes surged against the penetrating intruder.

“Aaah!”

The face, beaded with cold sweat, distorted. Ah, ah. Every time the path was shifted slightly, strained moans poured out. The hot inner walls became a cave, swallowing the intruder. Slowly but steadily, perfectly.

“Agh—!”

“Kh!”

The moans of both men burst out simultaneously. As if the time of inserting and pulling out only the tip was long gone, the thick, long member entered all the way in one go between the butt cheeks spread wide by both hands.

“Huu.”

It was a complete insertion. Dark brown pubic hair rubbed roughly against the cleft of the buttocks. His heart raced beyond its limit. The inner walls, stretched tight and unable to withstand the pressure of insertion, were flushed red with heat. It was a scene of wondrous obscenity.

“Haa, haa.”

At the sudden shock, Aaron gasped for breath and bit MacQuan’s arm. Following his panting body, Aaron unconsciously tightened his insides.

“It hurts……”

The murmuring voice was full of irritation. Physiological tears gathered in the long corners of his eyes. MacQuan naturally tilted his head and licked those tears thoroughly. They were sweeter than sugar candy.

“Does it hurt?”

“Mmph, ngh.”

“I loosened it a lot…… you can’t see it, but the bottom is completely open.”

“Ngh…… mm……”

The lips that would not leave the forearm let out a pitifully thin moan. At that shallow trick, MacQuan sneered coldly and slowly pulled his member out again.

“Agh!”

The chest heaved following the labored breathing. Even with a single insertion, the slightly open hole did not easily return to its original state. It was a satisfying sight, enough to make him want to break him just like this.

MacQuan quickly fumbled for the console, poured the remaining oil all over his member, and again grabbed one butt cheek and spread it outward. The inner walls, where a path had already been made, opened wide once more. At that lewd sight, MacQuan felt a parching thirst in his throat.

“Aaah!”

“Huu.”

Immediately, the member slammed in vertically, filling him completely. MacQuan drove it in so hard that his scrotum collided with the other’s perineum.

“Ah, ngh!”

For a moment, pain was felt in the forearm to the point where the sound of flesh being bitten could be heard. The body, unable to withstand the shock of insertion, was trembling. Lightly slapping the convulsing buttocks, MacQuan pulled back slightly and then pounded in violently again. A loud, squelching sound echoed.

“Stop……”

At the shock beyond his limit, Aaron crawled forward before he even realized it. Noticing the gesture to escape from him, MacQuan pressed the other’s shoulder firmly and brought his lips close to his ear.

“Does it hurt?”

Thwack—

His waist, which had pulled back, surged forward again, causing the member to bury itself to the hilt and slide out slowly, over and over. It felt as if he were intent on breaking the body.

“Ngh—!”

Hot breaths exchanged rapidly. Roughly wiping away the dampness of the cheek with his palm, MacQuan began to move in shallow thrusts. The sensation of tightening made his member erect to the limit, to the point of pain. The squelching sound of wet membranes increased the density of the air. He pulled back until only the tip of the glans remained, then inserted deeply in one go. The body leaped, unable to withstand the sensation of penetration.

“Aaron, you’re… too tight. Ngh!”

“Ah, ngh, it still… hurts. Ah… ung, ung…”

Legs that had spread to their limit and kept slipping were repeatedly lifted and pressed down by rough hands. Unable to bear the foreign sensation, Aaron rubbed his sweat-drenched face frantically against the sheets. Those deep blue eyes no longer held him. Driven by amplifying anxiety, MacQuan roughly licked the thin eyelids with his tongue.

“Open your eyes.”

“Stop… it, stop!”

“Look at me. Aaron, Aaron…”

“Why on earth are you so…”

With a mutter laced with irritation, the eyelids finally opened. Only then did eyes drenched in ecstasy fully meet. Feeling a strange sense of relief that a man more arrogant than anyone had granted his request, MacQuan could not hold back and showered him with kisses again.

He was truly a disgusting yet pitiful creature. Even as he repeatedly swept his tongue over the dry lips, the thirst would not subside. Looking at the delicate features trapped in his hand evoked an indescribable feeling. In the meantime, the penetration did not stop.

“St-stop…”

As the intrusions continued, Aaron clutched his stiff lower abdomen. The speed was overwhelming, almost unbearable. The skin where the wet flesh rubbed together was on the verge of being chafed raw.

“My stomach hurts. Ah… aaah…”

“It’s because I’m going too deep. Hoo.”

“Ah… mm, ugh… ah, ah—!”

The dull, throbbing pain created the illusion that a large knife was stabbing into his stomach. A large hand covered the hand that was clumsily groping beneath the belly. With their two bodies completely suctioned together, the rapid insertions continued, driving only the hips.

“Ah, ugh, mmm! Aah!”

“Relax… just a little. Hoo.”

“I can’t… do it… as I please… agh!”

Aaron sobbed, shaking his head. Gasping breaths scattered frantically into the air. The inner walls were stretched to their limit, swallowing the fierce member entirely. Every time the hard body dug in strongly, screams mixed with pain and pleasure poured from his mouth. In response, MacQuan frantically rubbed and scrubbed the other’s wet chest with his palm. He could feel the rapidly beating heart right through his rough palm.

“Aah!”

The desire to be infinitely tender clashed with the urge to be violent. With a slapping sound, the lean buttocks repeatedly hit and detached from his body. The member, buried to the root, seemed unsatisfied, wanting the inner walls to open even wider.

“Hngh!”

“Aaron.”

“Ah, aah!”

The chin, tilted far back, trembled. As the speed of insertion increased, pleasure began to blend into the screams. The buttocks, messily wet with semen, shook, unable to withstand the ecstasy.

“I mistook you for someone else.”

He recalled the absurd lie the man had uttered when he tried to steal a kiss and flee. Feeling as if his mind were being swept away, MacQuan flipped the other’s body over.

“Why…”

As the position shifted to facing one another in an instant, a faint question clouded the face still panting from the heat. It was an improbable comparison, but he looked like a boy who had just awakened to sexuality. The heightened excitement gradually eroded his reason.

MacQuan pushed Aaron’s legs, which were sprawled on the sheet, upward and dove between them. From the open hole, the aromatic oil poured in long ago was leaking out. The glistening folds moved as if breathing.

“You’re wet.”

Watching the sight of the semen leaking, MacQuan felt his throat burn. It felt as if all the moisture in his body had dried up, leaving only heat. He hooked the two slender legs over his arms and aligned the tip of his glans with the entrance, which was half-open and continuously leaking oil. Every time he pressed against it playfully, the hole, unable to escape the afterglow of insertion, repeatedly opened and closed.

“Hngh.”

“Hoo.”

“Ngh…”

Even with just a little pressure, the inner walls that had faithfully embraced him until a moment ago opened easily, slowly swallowing the glans and shaft again. The waist moved in sync with the member digging in to carve its shape. Haa, ah. Ah— wet breaths escaped several times. The wide-open legs repeatedly fell onto the sheet and rose again.

“The way you looked while sleeping was so similar to someone I know that I mistook you and made a mistake.”

He remembered the words he had simply laughed off at the time. As he pushed down with the strength of his hips, he was inserted to the very end. Against the drenched entrance, pubic hair tangled with sweat and bodily fluids and the swollen scrotum rubbed roughly. The sensitized body bucked several times, yet responded faithfully to the insertion.

“Ah! Agh!”

“Ngh…”

As the legs were pushed completely back, the neat face distorted with pain. MacQuan, lacking the capacity to check the other’s complexion, put his full weight into accelerating the thrusts. Along with the lewd, squelching sounds—splat, squelch, squelch—the discharged semen drenched the area around the hole in white.

“Hngh. Ugh.”

“Aaron, Aaron—!”

“Ah, ah-ngh, inside, ah, ah!”

The waist moved flexibly, searching for the point of pleasure. Mucus, from whom it came unknown, splashed here and there on both their bodies. Every single movement was ecstasy. The sweat-drenched, wide-open body was drawing MacQuan into its embrace perfectly, like a whore. It was a perfect union, where it was unclear who was binding whom.

As time passed, MacQuan became certain.

This was a body accustomed to taking a man’s member.

The moment he realized this, black smoke rose between his heart. Since a courtesan was always with him whenever MacQuan saw him, a promiscuous past was not in doubt.

But did he have experience with men as well?

He wondered who else he might have drawn into this hot hole besides himself. Using that handsome face, someone other than him.

Was it true?

Did he really mistake him for someone else?

Embracing someone other than me in this narrow, deep place…

“Hoo, why…”

“Mm, ung, ah… ah, ah!”

“Why, why…”

A ferocious heart swallowed his reason. The question of why he was so accustomed to receiving a member could not bring itself to leave his lips. Clenching his teeth so hard they felt as if they would tear, MacQuan rammed himself in even harder, to the point where the tender flesh around the inner walls might rip.

“Aah!”

“Dammit—!”

He didn’t even realize he was angry. The completely pierced bottom repeatedly stretched wide and narrowed following the rough movements. The area around the buttocks was drenched in murky semen.

“Do you… ngh. Know?”

“Stop it, ung, stop!”

The lewd appearance of the man who had looked down on and despised others so much was attractively repulsive. The open entrance was strongly sucking the member, and the buttocks, wet with oil and semen, were positively erotic. The more their bodies aligned and the more pleasure he felt, the more MacQuan was enveloped in an unpredictable rage. He felt a cruel impulse to tear apart and devour the body of Aaron Wizfeldon beneath him.

“Your… appearance.”

“Mmph, ugh, ngh!”

“Do you… know what it looks like… I mean. Ngh!”

“Don’t… ung, ngh.”

The suppressed moans gradually lost control. Even while thrusting—thud, thud—the milky-white liquid continuously flowed between the mounds. The narrow entrance held the hot member, and the mucus that couldn’t all fit inside flowed frantically down the firm thighs. The slender body was also smeared with sweat and fluids, and saliva continuously leaked from the open mouth.

“Ah! Aah—!”

It was a sight so obscene that no one would think him a noble aristocrat.

“Aaron, Aaron! Kh, ngh!”

The moisture-filmed retinas flashed dangerously. Amidst the frantically surging pleasure, the image of the Duke of Cornwall smiling confidently appeared in his mind. Did that man, obsessed with honor, know what state his son was in right now? Did he know his heir was like a protagonist in a cheap comedy?

If only there were a way to taxidermy this sight and keep it.

If only he could engrave it so he could see it forever.

Forever, so that only he could see.

“Stop it. Hngh, ngh… ah—”

“Just a bit. Ngh… just a bit more, more!”

He wanted to swallow him whole. As the pleasure reached its peak, a cruel impulse to bite and strangle him arose. Along with the illusion that every corner of his body had become a member, an ecstasy that felt like it was slicing through his entire being dominated MacQuan’s mind. Wet lips curved in euphoria. Cold reason did not exist. The heat that warmed his entire body swallowed all the logic and reason of the world.

“Agh, ah! Aah!”

The fully expanded member was also approaching its limit. As he thrust so fast his whole body trembled, Aaron also twisted his upper body and screamed. The member slid in and out of the body repeatedly. The taut thigh muscles trembled with pleasure.

“Aaron, ngh, Aaron!”

“Aah! Agh, aaaaaah—!”

Despite the pain pouring over the shoulders and back from the scraping, MacQuan ignored it and inserted himself roughly, as if to break the body held in his arms. Due to the fierce movements, the entrance became painfully red. The white body, unable to withstand the pleasure, struggled.

An abnormal desire for conquest dominated MacQuan’s mind. He felt as if he had become a man whose soul had been eaten by opium, though he had taken none. His mind and vision turned blurry, and the pleasure rising to the limit made a mess of his head.

He felt like he was going through madness.

A voice, deeply sunken in pleasure, whispered. He might truly go mad. Because this pleasure was terrible, because the person he had crushed was loathsome, because a sadistic urge bloomed to the point of wanting to chew and tear him apart.

“Hngh, hngh, ah, aah, stop! Stop it!”

“Aaron, Aaron.”

“Ah-hngh, aah—!”

“Hoo… ngh!”

“Theo, Theo… dore! Aah, Theo!”

“……!”

At the moment pleasure reached its zenith, a part of a name, both unfamiliar and yet familiar, escaped Aaron’s lips. It was a moment that passed in a flash, leaving no time to be surprised. At the same time his muscles froze stiff, the other’s climax arrived abruptly.

“Ah. Hngh…”

At the final insertion, which was so violent that a slapping sound could be heard, Aaron trembled violently, unable to withstand the shock.

“Haa. Haa…”

MacQuan, likewise, before he had time to be shocked by the strange name he had just heard, began to vomit semen into the hot inner walls that were tightly gripping his member. Unlike the body that had exploded to the limit, his heart cooled rapidly.

It was a perfect ejaculation.

The sound of light ripples circled his ears. When he opened his eyes, morning was breaking outside the window.

“…….”

He reached out to the spot beside him, but the hot body that had heated the bedroom all night was not felt at his fingertips. Feeling a dissonance that was strangely strong, MacQuan blinked a few times and bolted upright. Only after some time had passed and his vision cleared did the figure of someone pinning a cravat in front of the mirror enter his sight.

The surroundings were bright because the curtains had been drawn and the shutters slightly opened. Normally, he would have been angry, mentioning security, but for some reason, he didn’t feel like it at all.

“I see you’re awake.”

Feeling the gaze, the man slightly turned his head. As their eyes met, the irises, reflecting the morning sunlight, shone elegantly.

“…….”

As if he hadn’t been waiting for an answer, Aaron returned to the mirror and continued his movements.

“When did you wake up?”

“Just now.”

He checked the cravat, which was tied perfectly and neatly, and straightened his shirt collar. Subsequently, the way he put on his waistcoat suggested he was quite accustomed to dressing himself. After watching for a while, MacQuan finally spoke, unable to hide his discomfort.

“Do you not even have time to enjoy a moment of leisure?”

“Because there are many eyes watching.”

“Could you come here for a moment?”

The hand fastening the buttons paused. Aaron glanced back with a puzzled look and soon approached the bed. A flicker of displeasure crossed his face, but it was momentary. Standing close, he studied MacQuan carefully for a while before speaking.

“I’m sorry, but I used the washbasin first. It was difficult to dress immediately.”

Contrary to his words, his expression did not look sorry at all. As MacQuan pulled his wrist strongly, the clumsy apology could not be completed.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“…….”

“Why are you so cold? It’s hard to believe you’re the person who was sharing love with me here just a few hours ago.”

Their touching foreheads shared warmth. In a tone that clearly revealed disappointment, the downward gaze trembled quietly. The suspicion to discern the truth hidden within was endless.

“It’s better to leave before it gets any brighter.”

Despite being a short excuse, the end of the sentence wavered slightly. Reading the anxiety the other showed, the corners of MacQuan’s mouth curled up.

“Indeed, I suppose so. If anyone saw us, wouldn’t it become England’s greatest scandal?”

Smiling coldly, MacQuan tilted his head to the side. Naturally, Aaron tilted his face in the opposite direction.

“I would rather it be so. If everyone in the Empire knew about the relationship between you and me.”

“……I’ll pass.”

Aaron Wizfeldon’s voice was a pleasant bass. The pronunciation, stiffer and more refined than he remembered, also suited the man well. In the excessively close distance, every single feature of the other was vividly engraved on his corneas. Naturally, the distance closed and their lips touched, but the contact was not long.

“I must get ready.”

Aaron stayed embraced for a moment and then lightly pushed MacQuan away.

“Will you go out first?”

“I should.”

There was no lingering attachment in the hand reaching for the coat hanging on the chair. Sensing the atmosphere of imminent departure, MacQuan hurriedly pulled Aaron back toward him.

“What are you doing?”

“Please do not change your mind again after you return.”

“…….”

Caught off guard by the words, Aaron could not easily answer. Perceiving the intention embedded in the silence, MacQuan unconsciously gripped the man’s hand tighter. The pale hand, with prominent veins, convulsed piteously.

“Please do not forget last night.”

MacQuan rubbed his cheek against the other’s cool palm. The sharp bridge of the nose and soft eyelashes repeatedly touched and detached. A ripple formed in the gaze looking down at that sight.

“I hope you do not dismiss our relationship as if it never happened.”

For a while, Aaron looked down in silence at the man who buried his face in his hand. It was a truly sorrowful expression and voice. The fingertips touching the wrist were hot. Hot enough to travel through the veins in the skin and burn the heart.

“Aaron.”

MacQuan called Aaron’s name in a voice that sounded as if he couldn’t bear how lovely he was. It was a voice quite similar to that day when he had been kind and warm.

“…….”

Instead of an answer, Aaron slowly embraced MacQuan. It was a cautious touch. The large body followed obediently. The dark brown hair, tangled and released between fingers, was so soft and painful that Aaron distorted his expression messily and held his breath.

“……Alright.”

The hollow answer blended into the bedroom.

The moment the guest who had spent a violent night departed, MacQuan’s expression turned cold, as if he had never acted as a tender lover.

“Theodore.”

The name the man had uttered at the moment of climax was certainly the name of someone he had never heard before.

Surely, it was someone who had embraced that body before him.

Or perhaps one of the many he had played with promiscuously.

The certain fact was that it was someone who knew that arrogant scoundrel’s body before he did.

Thoughts followed one after another. As suspicion deepened, the blood in his body cooled. It was an emotion completely different in color from anger. To calm his boiling heart, MacQuan walked to the window. As he drew back the blackout curtains, the carriage that would carry the one he had embraced all night was preparing to depart outside. Looking at the man’s composed face, he felt like uttering a vulgar curse.

“I need to investigate separately.”

The muttering voice was sinister. If there was a promiscuous past, it would certainly be a good card to use. Especially in a strict aristocratic society, same-sex relationships were subjects of condemnation. Although he was already followed by opium addiction and promiscuous scandals, the issue of homosexuality was on a different level.

The purpose of starting the relationship was clear. To extract the desired information and to make him fall into trivial emotions so that he could not point a blade at him regardless of the circumstances—nothing more, nothing less.

Of course, in any case, it was only right that he be completely removed from this matter. A homosexuality scandal would be fatal even for MacQuan, who had only just begun to build his influence as a politician. Therefore, no evidence of this subversive and unsightly relationship should be left behind.

From the start, it was a relationship begun to gain profit and seize a weakness; it was a bond of such weight that it could be burned and blown away as soon as the desired goal was achieved.

And yet…

‘Was opium not enough that he enjoyed relations with the same sex as well?’

Contrary to the rapid calculations in his mind, his clenched fists gradually tightened. It was a body that felt thirsty no matter how much it was embraced. Even as he forced his way through that narrow passage, it was a body so lewd that his reason blurred with the wicked desire to push in further and cling closer. Was that all? The white, soft, naked body was nothing less than lust itself. Had he played around with so many people with such a pure face?

‘He played quite filthily.’

An unrefined, vicious anger raged. Feeling a sense of possessiveness—something that shouldn’t exist—rise in his throat, MacQuan let out a vulgar curse to control the exploding emotions. Thump—thump—thump—the punches he threw against the wall grew stronger with every strike. Even with his expression crumpled miserably, he remained completely unaware of his own state.

✧ ✧ ✧

After a short recess of several weeks, Parliament returned to its busy pace. The reading sessions were heated, with members bringing up the issue of the Parliament building construction scheduled for next year, along with various postponed bills. While the topics of interest differed by member, the number of bills being jointly pursued by factions within the party was considerable.

Meanwhile, the situation in Guangzhou had become even more urgent. Last winter, the Qing authorities had made an example of their own citizens indicted on opium trafficking charges by sentencing them to hanging. All consular flags were lowered, and the warship Larn ceased operations. MacQuan’s expression darkened further as he read the letters reporting the deteriorating local situation. The sender was Robert Higgins.

Proportional to the severity of the situation, Cornwall’s public agitation and sabotage were intensifying by the day. Those advocating for the dispatch of the navy were being branded as forces colluding with the devil, and combined with far-right extremism, Cornwall’s cunning tricks were proving quite effective.

“…….”

Setting aside the letter he had already read several times, MacQuan remained deep in thought for a while. After a moment, he gestured for the waiting secretary.

“Aljef.”

The approaching footsteps were cautious and quiet. The secretary’s face was half-exposed to the sunlight and half-hidden in the shadow of the furniture. Looking at the face that perfectly captured both light and darkness, MacQuan tilted his cheek crookedly.

“Get some opium. The highest grade.”

“Shall I contact Klaus?”

“No, through Rochester. Order it not for smoking, but as a liquid to be mixed into drinks.”

“Understood. Will opium be all you need?”

At the following question, MacQuan pondered for a moment before shaking his head.

“It would be good to mix in some fancy gifts. I heard Rochester succeeded in a new refining method.”

“Understood.”

Since they had already committed such acts countless times, even the simple procedure of asking for the purpose and method was omitted between them. There existed only a vicious brilliance that could instantly grasp a subtle smile and the meaning contained within it.

“Truly, I shall fall to hell when I die.”

With a low laugh, his grip on the letter tightened. Someone came to mind, but only for a fleeting moment. He did not have the luxury of time to act on clumsy recognition or conscience. With immense profits and goals before him, he had to take every possible measure.

“Are you going out again today?”

Calvin hurried toward Aaron, who was leaving the room in casual attire. Seeing the worried expression directed at him, Aaron smirked and waved his hand. It was a gesture telling him to get lost immediately.

“If this is about Rodinton, let’s talk tomorrow. I have to leave right away.”

“No, it’s not that, but…”

Struggling to hide his anxious inner thoughts, Calvin took a step back. The news he had received through Bernard just before entering took priority.

“The Duke… has sent a letter saying he will return this weekend.”

“Really? He comes often.”

“Because he might get angry with Brother again.”

“So he’s telling me to wait at home because he’ll throw another tantrum?”

Though the brothers had strictly limited external meetings and social interactions after entering Westminster, their outings had been unusually frequent lately. Furthermore, the atmosphere they exuded was subtly different from before. It was a minute change, but to someone trying to monitor and control the brothers’ every move, it could appear as a significant shift.

“Brother.”

Aaron stopped his motion of grabbing the doorknob and glanced back.

“Stop calling me that. Since when did I ever listen to you?”

“Please be careful.”

The words carried a heavy implication. After a short silence, an undignified laugh burst out. Aaron asked back with eyes that looked genuinely amused.

“How much more obedience do you want from me here? Are you telling me to live as if I’m dead, without even breathing? Am I not already the perfect dog of my father? I know what you’re worried about, but it doesn’t matter.”

“Brother.”

“Of course, perhaps he’ll kill me too.”

“……I am sorry.”

“Of course, it wouldn’t matter much if he did. I’m not the one who would be disappointed. I’m the heir who should be put out there and sold for the highest price; if I disappear, only that man loses.”

“…….”

“I’m off.”

The smirking laugh made all the weight he carried feel lighter than dust. After glancing around for a moment, Aaron left the room without lingering. Watching the receding back, Calvin eventually resigned and sighed.

He only hoped that the brothers’ freedom would last just a little longer.

“Mmm.”

Hot breaths intertwined. After rubbing his shaft and scrotum between the buttocks for a while, MacQuan aligned his glans once more with the half-open entrance. As he poked and pressed playfully, the slender legs draped over his shoulders stiffened with tension. At that vivid sensation, MacQuan smiled brightly and repeatedly kissed the flushed, slender ankles and malleolus.

“Try to relax a bit more.”

“I am.”

Despite the sharp tone, MacQuan’s expression was instead soft. He gave light kisses here and there on the cheek of the struggling Aaron and gripped the buttocks of the man beneath him. Their completely folded bodies met again. Heart met heart. The sound of the heartbeat, the temperature, and the touch felt through the skin blended together one by one.

“Ah!”

Following the pushing force, the entrance slowly opened. Once the member was halfway in, MacQuan paused for a moment and cupped Aaron’s forehead and temples. In their meeting gaze, blue eyes stained with heat wavered. They were eyes that resembled a cold passion.

“……Haa.”

“Relax your strength.”

“Wait. Don’t force it in. Hng.”

“I’ve rubbed enough and stretched it out. Instead of saying that, open up a little more.”

The half-inserted member began to advance again. As he said, it was a slow insertion. The groans grew louder.

He had drenched it in oil and loosened it sufficiently. With a squelching sound, the secret entrance finally fully embraced the member. The mattress touching the buttocks and perineum where the member was planted was so soaked it was suspected to have a leak.

“Mmm, aaah.”

“It’s going in well now. This part of you has become completely accustomed to my member.”

“Stop pushing, ah…!”

“It’s all in now, so it’s fine. Hoo.”

As the relations continued several times, the two sweat-drenched bodies entangled and separated repeatedly like perfectly fitting puzzle pieces. At the sensation of the heavy, hot flesh filling his body, Aaron breathed shallowly and toyed with MacQuan’s fingers. Hng, nng—arrogant yet erotic moans escaped.

“Haa.”

“Do you even have the leisure to look at such things?”

“It’s not that… you’re too… ugh!”

The member, which seemed to be halfway out, plunged back in to the hilt. The body pinned under the heavy weight was completely folded, pleading in distress. Even though he was in up to the root, MacQuan pushed harder, thrusting into the inner walls and revealing his desire to push in even further. The member inside the hot inner walls writhed.

“I want to put it all in.”

“It’s… all in already.”

“No, everything, even further down.”

MacQuan grabbed Aaron’s hand, which had been clutching the sheet, and pulled it toward the point of insertion. Past the inner wall folds stretched to their limit, the pubic hair rubbing against them, and the semen wetting the area, the swollen testicles and scrotum between the penis and perineum touched his fingertips. Realizing the sensation against his hand, fear clouded the light blue irises.

“Someday, I want to widen the hole more and put all of me inside.”

At the sensation of fingers rubbing the entrance threateningly, Aaron recoiled in horror and shook his head. If left alone, he might put something more inside.

“Crazy talk… ah, ngh, ngh, stop… stop!”

At the sensation of being poked relentlessly in between, his flushed shoulders flinched several times. At this rate, he seemed poised to insert everything to the point where the hole would tear.

“Ngh, once it loosens a bit more, it’ll all go in. Shall we try putting a finger in first?”

“……Crazy talk, ngh. Ng, ng…”

“Someday, hoo… I want to see your body taking all of my member…”

“No, ah, aaah…”

Following the densely moving back muscles, the body beneath also moved dynamically. Nasal moans, forcedly suppressed, leaked through the gaps.

MacQuan flipped the body beneath him over again, forced the legs wide apart, and pressed down until they were flattened. The posture, completely prone and clinging to each other, was like the mating position of beasts.

“Hng, ng, ng, aaah! Ah!”

“Hoo. It’s good, your inside is so good. Ngh… Aaron!”

Short breaths scattered urgently within the embrace. As he drove the half-withdrawn member back in to the hilt, nearly crushing it, the buttocks absorbing the impact were pressed flat. The completely loosened inner walls were absorbing the man’s fierce desire along with a squelching sound.

“Ugh, shut, up. Stop, and, ah!”

“Hoo. Hoo, haa.”

“Aaah, ah! Aaah! Ah!”

The sound of the rough thrusting was exceptionally strong and violent compared to usual. Even though he was inserted to the end, MacQuan continued to pound and push forward. He seemed intent on inserting even the swollen scrotum into the narrow inner walls. Under the strong pressure of the pounding thump, thump, the hole holding the member was widening bit by bit. In fear that it might actually tear, Aaron reached back and struck MacQuan’s sweat-drenched shoulder.

“Hng, stop, stop it. Ng, nng.”

“Just a little, just a little more.”

“Stop it. Hng, ngh…”

“I want to put it all in. Hoo.”

“It’ll tear…”

A scream full of irritation sliced through the air. MacQuan let out a deep sigh and put more strength into his hips. As he drove in to the hilt again and rubbed his body, the tender skin became red and congested from the coarse pubic hair. It was a stimulation like a passing flame. With the insertion going in and out to the end, the scrotum roughly slapped against the inner walls.

“Ugh!”

“Aaron.”

“Ng, ah, ugh…”

The act of calling the name was strange. Even though it was clearly meaningless, the more he did it, the stranger the emotion became. Even if he vowed not to call the name, whenever they had relations, MacQuan always desperately called the partner’s name regardless of his will. Dozens of times, hundreds of times, sometimes countlessly.

“Aaron! Ngh!”

“Ngh, ugh.”

Even while thrusting, semen flowed incessantly from the tip of the glans. The body embracing MacQuan had also, by now, become fully erect, pointing upward. At the erotic body that became erect just from the act of insertion and movement, MacQuan could not control his pleasure for a single moment. The legs that kept slipping were in the way. MacQuan flipped the body beneath him over again.

As the position changed, Aaron Wizfeldon’s face and body came vividly into view. His skin was unrealistically white, and his complexion was pale. The green eyes scanning the detailed body muscles and the ascetic face gradually stained with heat. At the sight of the arrogant noble bewildered by the once-again changed position, his member tightened further.

“Hoo…”

MacQuan took one of the legs he had been holding on his arm and draped it over his shoulder. Following the changed position, the entrance stretched vertically stimulated the member that was still inserted.

“Ah, ugh…”

“Aaron, hoo, Aaron!”

“Stop it, stop, my leg! Nnnng!”

The member entered and exited roughly through the inner walls stretched wide up and down. The inner walls, unable to keep up with the speed, turned bright red. Without a chance to close, the hot member entered and then ruthlessly exited again. The room filled with heat at the filthy, slapping sounds.

“Ah. Aaah, hng… ah!”

Every time the thumping sound grew louder, a milky-white mucus, indistinguishable as to who it came from, splattered everywhere. The body that reacted and leaped every time it was poked continued to stimulate the inherent senses. MacQuan reached out his remaining arm and interlaced his fingers with Aaron’s flailing hand, pinning it above his head.

“Your body…”

“Ah, ngh, aaah!”

“I want to… show you how wide you’ve opened.”

“Ugh, what, nonsense… ugh!”

The damp buttocks swayed, unable to withstand the rough movements. Aaah—the lips, screaming incessantly, were opened to their limit, revealing a red tongue. Driven by a surging thirst, MacQuan again sucked on Aaron’s lips, which were drenched in saliva. He chewed the tender lip flesh and wrapped his hot tongue around it, sucking it in.

Ugh-hng—a moan that couldn’t withstand the pleasure rang out, mixed with crying.

His mind was engulfed in a fire. It was a cruel desire to imprison and swallow. MacQuan did not know why he felt such violent emotions whenever he had sex with Earl Vispilt. He simply thought it was because he loathed him that much.

“Mmm.”

He let his own saliva flow, greedily sucking the lips and tongue whole, and then licked down to the jaw and nape. By the time the sensation of ejaculation surged, he eventually bit the flawless cheek hard enough to leave a mark. The thin, white eyelids trembled in pain.

“Mm, ngh, slowly.”

“Aaron, open your legs more.”

“Stop, it’s the limit… it won’t open more… ugh!”

“The inside is twitching. Do you know that? Hoo…”

As the member was driven in to the hilt once more, the remaining leg was also pushed up onto MacQuan’s shoulder. Thanks to being sucked and chewed for a long time, the swollen nipples were rubbed against both knees. It was a friction rough enough to feel as if they would be torn off.

Unable to bear the pain, he struck MacQuan’s back several times, but it was useless. With insertions that hit so hard they made the skin sting—thump, thump—the inner walls opened just enough to fit MacQuan’s member, repeatedly swallowing and spitting it out.

“Your name, ngh, Aaron!”

“Ugh, aaah! Ah! Ah!”

Following the increasing speed, the moans became even more intense. This was only possible because the mansion was empty. The gestures pushing the shoulder became urgent and eventually reached the point of striking with fists.

“Ugh, I… ah, aaah!”

“Aaron, hoo, ngh!”

“Ugh!”

The sound of thrusting and the squelching sound of rubbing against the mucous membrane mixed in an even more lewd manner. Feeling the urge to ejaculate, MacQuan squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his member out in one go.

“Ah, ah!”

“……Haa!”

At the feeling of the bottom suddenly becoming empty, Aaron’s legs trembled violently with a vacant expression. Eyes that hadn’t yet realized what had happened shook with confusion. The hole, which had been tightly locked with the member, also remained open in the shape of the glans, continuously spitting out semen.

“Stop it…”

Trembling hands tapped MacQuan’s back of the hand. Black desire overflowed at the desperate fingertips. MacQuan cupped Aaron’s cheek, which had not yet cooled. Feeling strange as he looked at the small, pale face fitting in his palm, he smiled, pretending to be relaxed.

“Shall I come inside?”

“……Stop joking.”

“Try asking me. Hmm?”

“Stop the vulgar jokes. What are you doing?”

His brow furrowed instantly, calling it arrogant talk. The words delivered in a commanding tone were chillingly cold, as if he had forgotten that he had been screaming just a moment ago. Despite his lower half being wide open and waiting for insertion, his pride did not vanish.

MacQuan smirked and grabbed both slender ankles. Just as the lower body seemed to lift, the knees were pushed back far enough to touch his shoulders. As he poked the wet glans around the fully opened inner walls, a low moan echoed deeply. Then, in an instant, the fully erect member plunged in at a right angle.

“Aaah!”

The body, unable to withstand the shock of the sudden insertion, shuddered. Without realizing it, Aaron’s member was leaking semen. It was an ejaculation.

“Ah! Ah. Mm, ngh. Hng.”

“Hoo. Aaron, it’s too hot. It’s tight. Hmm? Do you know? Ngh.”

“It hurts… I said it hurts. Hng… ah, ah.”

“Look at me. Ngh…”

“Ugh, ugh-hng.”

“Hmm? Aaron. Look at me…”

MacQuan was completely immersed in the act, repeating violent thrusts. His muscular body slid down against the wet buttocks several times. Now, with his chin tilted back and moaning, it was clear he had become entirely accustomed to the pleasure. As he shook uncontrollably, semen splattered mercilessly across the sheets. Filled with a sense of satisfaction that occupied one side of his chest, MacQuan moved his body rapidly.

“Ah-eut!”

Between the terror of being carved out from behind and the surging sensation of climax, Aaron instinctively grabbed MacQuan and pulled him toward his chest. Following the contractions of his body, the inner walls clamped down even harder on the member. Blood rushed to his tightly bitten lips. He felt as if his mind were about to explode into total darkness.

“Now…”

The moment Aaron tried to tell him to stop, MacQuan lowered his head and kissed him violently. Simultaneously, he hugged him tight enough to crush his entire body, moving only his hips to repeat the fierce insertions. The two bodies, pressed perfectly together, collapsed and gradually lost their boundaries. The member sliding in and out had become white with the semen that had already flowed.

“Stop, hng, stop, st… mm, mmm!”

The member, which had pulled out to the very end one last time, plunged back in even deeper and more fiercely. It was a brutality that made one wonder if he might tear. Before long, the member, pushed in to the hilt, began to ejaculate inside the inner walls.

“Haa…”

“Mm, mmm…”

Pinned beneath a body tightened by hard muscles, Aaron trembled all over. He, too, had long since ejaculated onto MacQuan’s stomach. After a climax of unknown count, the two bodies, completely stuck together with sweat, convulsed faintly in the afterglow.

“Aaron.”

A hot whisper lingered by his ear. Haa, haa. Hot panting raised the temperature of the narrow bedroom. MacQuan showered light kisses over a face that could not yet recover from the shock. His touch, as he brushed back the blonde hair—now darker and more saturated from being drenched—behind the forehead, was exceedingly careful.

“Aaron.”

“…”

“Aaron…”

The ceaseless whispering tickled his cheek. Instead of answering, Aaron slowly wrapped one arm around the man’s wet back. At the calm gesture, MacQuan also stopped moving and held his breath in silence. As time passed and their breathing steadied, their touching hearts began to beat at the same pace. Drenched in lethargy, the two bodies did not separate for a long while.

“What are you looking at?”

Having come out after washing, MacQuan spotted Aaron lingering in front of the study and quickly approached him. It did not take long for the face etched with loathing to transform into that of a kind and considerate person.

“Books.”

The man, answering with a stoic face, was wearing only a single light shirt. MacQuan’s eyes sank darkly as he looked at the long, lean legs without a trace of excess fat. Until just a few hours ago, the space between those legs had been filled with the semen he had poured. Fearing that someone might see that disgusting and hideous sight, MacQuan had double-checked that the windows were firmly locked and had even drawn the blackout curtains.

“What are you doing there dressed like that? What if someone sees you?”

“Who would see?”

“I don’t want anyone to see you in such a disheveled state.”

MacQuan lightly gripped both of Aaron’s shoulders and rubbed his cheek against the nape of his neck. Perhaps because he had washed first, a fragrant and cozy scent rose from him. It was the scent of a lake embracing the wind and the sun.

“Are you thirsty?”

Handing him a glass of water, MacQuan pulled the body standing before him closer.

“Have you read all these books?”

Returning the empty glass, Aaron pulled out one of the densely packed books and asked. In the bookshelf, books on social issues and politics occupied a significant portion alongside economics and philosophy.

“I don’t have a hobby of placing books for decoration.”

“There are many original texts written in various languages as well.”

The tone was as if he were asserting that MacQuan couldn’t possibly know. Feeling a chill in his mind, MacQuan replied with a sneer.

“Since my origins are humble, I cannot read Latin as fluently as you, but I can read two or three languages.”

“…”

A brief silence followed.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Aaron shook his head slightly. A hint of embarrassment surfaced over his cool expression.

“Hmm.”

A large hand cupped one of Aaron’s cheeks. The clear eyes reflected the embarrassment the man was feeling. Seeing this side of him for the first time, the unpleasantness MacQuan had felt moments ago gradually subsided.

“Don’t.”

The other party frowned immediately and sharply slapped the hand away. Despite the impact that left his skin flushed red, MacQuan smiled familiarly and hugged Aaron.

“Why are you so grumpy today?”

“You were the one who distorted my words first.”

Aaron pushed MacQuan’s hand away again and picked up the remaining clothes. As he began to dress properly, piece by piece, his long legs were hidden, and his slender waist and the chest covered in bite marks were concealed, as if the disheveled state of last night had been a dream.

“I must go. I have business this evening.”

“What business?”

“Something you have no need to know.”

He’s quite angry.

Thinking that he was as prickly as his appearance, MacQuan clicked his tongue inwardly. Being a man of sensitive nature and high aggression, he was incredibly bothersome and tiring.

Contrary to the annoyance filling his heart, the words and actions he uttered were sweeter than sugar.

“Please don’t go. I know very well that you have nothing urgent.”

“You speak insolently.”

Once the cuff-links were attached, his attire was so neat that it was hard to believe they had been engaging in intense relations just moments ago. The discrepancy was almost unpleasant, but MacQuan did not notice his own confusion.

“Wait a moment.”

As Aaron seemed ready to leave immediately, MacQuan instinctively grabbed his wrist. He didn’t like the attitude of trying to escape as soon as the act was over.

What is so urgent, and who is he meeting?

He bit his lip unconsciously. As he tightened his grip on the hand, an unknown anxiety surged.

“There is no need to rush.”

“…What do you mean, rush?”

“Why are you so keen on leaving? Since the parliament is in session, it’s already difficult for us to meet often. Do you truly not know my heart, which wishes to be with you as much as possible?”

“I cannot be the only one with much to prepare. The Baronet seems to have plenty of leisure. Seeing as you try to spend such long periods of time like this, despite failing to pass the Lower House readings time and again.”

“What a truly vicious answer. Was the Earl always such a cruel and heartless person?”

“It is advice to work harder.”

At the caustic remark pointing out reality, MacQuan felt a surge of anger in his heart for a moment. The person who obstructed the bills he proposed until the end and blocked him most stubbornly was none other than the man standing before him and his father. Suppressing the rising sneer, MacQuan perfectly donned the mask of a gentle lover once again. This was a man who endlessly doubted and tested his heart. Falling for this level of provocation was something only a novice would do.

“I am saying that I want to be by your side even if I have to endure such things. Even if you strike down my bills several times, I will not lodge complaints with you. You do your work, and I shall simply do what I must.”

MacQuan unconsciously brushed back the bright blonde hair softly. Without becoming docile for even a second, the man sharply struck the back of his hand.

“I told you not to. What is this insolent behavior?”

“Return when it gets dark. I will have the carriage ready then.”

Regardless of the stinging impact, MacQuan continued nonchalantly.

“I apologize for acting childishly.”

“…”

“I want to be with you.”

Though it was a cold face whose emotions were difficult to read, MacQuan knew well that the man would soon accept this pitiful apology. Through their meetings over several months, MacQuan had learned that the heir to the House of Cornwall acted weaker and softer toward him than expected.

Aaron Wizfeldon was a man of sensitive nerves and much irritation, but if asked properly, he would eventually comply, even while showing his dislike. Sometimes reluctantly, sometimes in the form of silence.

…And sometimes, with a whole heart.

“I really must return this evening. I have a guest to receive.”

Yes, just like now.

“I will gladly do so for that time.”

While feeling a sense of superiority as Aaron accepted his request once again, MacQuan also felt a strange emotion in a corner of his heart. He had recently received news from a plant he had placed that the Cornwall family’s London residence had been frequently interacting with people from the House of the Duke of Newcastle.

Presumably, deals regarding marriage are being exchanged.

There was no way that quick-witted fellow didn’t know that I knew.

And yet, he offers no excuse or explanation.

MacQuan found Aaron Wizfeldon’s base hypocrisy—acting soft on the surface while never revealing important matters—both laughable and infuriating.

“Who do you have an appointment with? Could you tell me?”

“Do not make things difficult for me any further.”

“Is it perhaps because of company business? I know that Rodinton, which the Duke of Cornwall acquired, is causing a lot of trouble.”

“You’ve researched diligently.”

A dry, moistureless silence passed. When the body embraced by him stiffened, MacQuan quietly clicked his tongue.

Oops.

It was a hasty approach. He had attempted conversations regarding Rodinton several times recently due to the softened atmosphere, but the reaction was always the same. The moment a related topic was brought up, Aaron was quick to raise his guard.

He was a difficult fellow. Perhaps it would be more helpful to act jealous by mentioning marriage talks with the Duke of Newcastle’s family. Marriage. As that thought occurred, his mind began to harden rapidly. Even though it was mere imagination, his expression, distorted by unpleasantness, would not relax.

“Do not worry, it is not in the way you think. If there is anything I can help with, you may tell me. Though you and the Duke of Cornwall may not acknowledge it, I too was the representative of a company.”

“…”

“If you have no need, then it cannot be helped.”

MacQuan immediately met his eyes softly, pretending nothing was wrong. Eyes that were hard to read tilted with a strange emotion. Even after a long time, the only response was silence. In an atmosphere where it was difficult to draw out any further reaction, MacQuan laughed lightly and shrugged his shoulders.

“I understand. I shall be satisfied with the evening. Though I may beg you again tomorrow morning, saying I don’t want to let you go.”

With a skilled hand, MacQuan began unbuttoning his shirt again, humming low. Unable to resist the fragrant scent of skin, he hugged the slender waist once more. The firm and straight body accepted all his rudeness without hesitation. Even when he slid his palm inside the shirt and stroked, Aaron no longer resisted. For someone with such a sensitive body to marry a woman—it was a ridiculous thing.

“I’m in no mood for jokes.”

Aaron looked down at the nuzzling head for a while, then gently touched the deep brown hair with his hand. It was a different color and texture from the dry hair of those who lived in forest cabins and were recklessly exposed to the sun.

“I love that side of you as well.”

The man uttered a confession again. It was a hasty and incredibly light statement, devoid of any sense of sincerity. Just as his dog had done in the past.

“I love you.”

The gaze they met again was a mixture of his characteristic confidence and fervor. It was difficult to distinguish the truth. Aaron barely suppressed his expression, which was distorting messily, and hugged the head of the dog.

“How long has it been since we entered into this relationship, that you already utter such words?”

Brown hair, still damp, touched him, but he did not mind at all.

“Time is not important when falling in love.”

At the words that felt like déjà vu, Aaron added with a cold sneer.

“I simply cannot keep up with your pace.”

Past and present.

Swallowing the unfinished words, Aaron let his voice trail off. Despite the atmosphere cooling instantly, MacQuan responded with composure.

“I am the one who fell in love first. It is enough for you to simply walk toward me slowly.”

“Stop it.”

“I do not greedily expect you to feel the same as I do right now.”

With a heavy laugh, MacQuan this time reached out and wrapped his hand around the back of Aaron’s neck. A faint heat lingered at the fingertips rubbing around the ear. A twisted heart relaxed softly, if only for a moment.

“I am sincere. My heart was stolen from the moment I first saw you.”

“…Of course it was.”

Eyes that had been gazing at him silently for a long time closed. Eyelashes, so thin that a shimmering illusion might occur, trembled. The eyelids were transparent enough to see the veins. It was an ambiguous expression, one whose inner thoughts were hard to grasp.

“I treated you more spitefully because I wanted to hide the feelings I have for you. You already know that, don’t you?”

“Your expression is ridiculous.”

“You are the same.”

Feeling a sense of yearning, MacQuan pulled the pitiful body deeper. In the intersecting gazes, a subtle heat lingered.

“…I want to kiss you.”

“…”

“I want to kiss you, Aaron.”

Even though permission was not granted, the impudent man leaned in a bit more and pressed his warm lips against the other. With a sigh, the half-undone shirt fell back to the marble floor. It was the beginning of a long affair.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Where have you been wandering lately?”

At the fierce interrogation, the hand putting on a vest paused for a moment. The expressionless eyes momentarily flickered with loathing. Aaron answered only after he had buttoned the shirt with a face that suggested nothing had happened.

“Have you not already placed people behind me? You should simply receive reports from them.”

The hand stroking the smooth, sharp jaw was relaxed. Seeing this, deep anxiety rose in the old Duke’s eyes.

“That is why I am asking. I am told you get off in the middle of the city, change carriages, and wander toward the outskirts; answer me properly what that means. Where are you going that you manage to avoid the eyes of the people I’ve stationed?”

He spoke without hesitation, revealing that there were monitors. He did not think that the sensitive fellow was entirely unaware of the situation.

“If you are attempting some vulgar act like sculpting again, I truly will not let it slide this time.”

“Surely not.”

Aaron shook his head with a nonchalant smile. He had lived his entire life under watchful eyes. The opponent was someone who would not miss a single moment of hesitation or delay to tear him apart.

“What could there be to wander for? It is because of the failing company.”

“Company?”

The thin eyebrows curved.

“I mean Rodinton. It is a necessary matter for Caliven as well, so I am looking into people who can provide help.”

As expected, the Duke’s interest shifted at the mention of Rodinton.

“I am nominally a member of the House of Lords; I cannot openly look into the back-end affairs of a failing company run by the family.”

“…Why are you doing that? Caliven is sufficient for it.”

Cornwall added quickly, his tone clearly displeased.

“I believe I told you to be exceptionally careful with your movements once you entered parliament. There are more than a few people watching your actions. And ‘running’ it? We are merely in the role of supporting a company that represents this country so that it may stand properly.”

These were words that thoroughly excluded someone who had become a sacrificial lamb in the process. Aaron snorted and checked his reflection in a distant mirror. His attire was perfect, but his hair was slightly disheveled.

“Who would accept that the operating entity is not the one who doesn’t actually buy and sell goods? I trust you are not saying this believing that such logic would hold up in a future audit by the Special Review Committee, while holding all decision-making power as the majority shareholder.”

“…The majority shareholder was changed to Caliven long ago. Only the transfer of documents remains. The same goes for the seal for managing promissory note issuance.”

Dark, sunken eyes flashed ruthlessly. Reading the implication between the lines, Aaron laughed loudly and leaned his hand on the console.

“Even if you push all those parts onto Caliven, I trust you do not believe he will be completely free from the theory of responsibility.”

All the internal corruption occurring to hide the maladies related to Rodinton was happening through Caliven’s hands. On the surface, it was the will and decision of Caliven Wisfield. He was a truly faithful and loyal puppet.

“Insolent talk. Caliven is merely performing the role I assigned him faithfully.”

Therefore, his father’s following words were enough to ignite the murderous rage he had tried to bury.

“You must have coerced him. Making it so he had no choice but to choose that path, while erasing all the achievements that foolish boy barely managed to attain. If nothing remains, he will eventually have no choice but to choose the path the Duke forces upon him. Not at all different from when you did that to me.”

“Aaron!”

“That fellow probably consoles himself. ‘This is the path I originally desired. It is enough. This is not so bad! I am a man who possesses all the desires that others envy!’”

“Will you not shut your mouth!”

Slap—!

A dull thud followed a furious shout. Aaron’s body swayed, unable to withstand the impact. For a moment, a sharp, honed silence descended. With his head snapped completely to the side from the force of the blow, Aaron stared somewhere with fierce eyes.

“That child willingly chose a holy sacrifice for the sake of the family and the country. It is the duty of a noble! Why are you, the heir, still not coming to your senses? Why do you not realize that the rights you enjoy as a matter of course are precious jewels that some spend their entire lives longing for but never obtain?”

“A holy sacrifice?”

A human with everything skewed—they were of the same blood. It was impossible to have a proper conversation with him in the first place.

“…How laughable.”

Confirming that his father’s interest had shifted entirely from himself to Rodinton, Aaron narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Enough. It will soon be time for the Duke of Newcastle to arrive.”

Dissatisfied with the need to hurry, Cornwall groaned softly, leaning both hands on his cane.

“And don’t even think about running away again.”

At the hollow threat, Aaron let out a smirk and toyed with his hair. Bright locks wound softly around his long fingers. One cheek had swollen red, but his indifferent eyes remained peaceful to the point of boredom.

“I must do my best to welcome a guest. That is the only way to get a high price, isn’t it?”

Despite the resentful content, there was no sarcasm in his tone. The Duke of Cornwall, watching his heir, did not hide his disappointment.

“Do not let such vulgar expressions pass your lips.”

“I will try.”

“The same goes for your promise.”

“….”

“You clearly stated that you would come to your senses and live while fulfilling your duties. You must not forget the obligations and responsibilities that come with being a noble. You are not simply one of those nobles scattered beneath the royal family. Remember the weight that Wizfeldon and Cornwall carry.”

At those words, Aaron turned completely and looked his father straight in the eye. His gaze was filled with hatred.

“I was unaware of such a magnificent fact. Please, forgive my sin.”

“If it weren’t for your request, that man would have died right there and then.”

At the consecutive threats, his elegantly arched eyebrows momentarily contorted.

“Did you say a promise?”

A hollow laugh escaped him.

“To think it was because of my request… do you truly take me for a fool?”

Beneath the heavy accusation, a sudden murderous intent flickered.

“The request failed because Baronet Enfield clumsily regained consciousness just before he was killed and spoke his own name.”

The corners of his mouth curled up faintly.

“What…”

“The one who demanded a price for hiding the secret told me so.”

The old Duke’s clouded pupils dilated. A secret he believed only two people in the world knew was flowing out through another mouth. No, since one was dead, it was a truth that only one person should now know.

“You, that…”

With a snicker, Aaron finally burst into laughter.

“Of course, unfortunately, the party in question died in an unforeseen accident a few days later, so rest assured that no one else knows. Whether it was an accidental death or a homicide committed by some noble person fearing the leak of a secret, I cannot say.”

Laughing so hard his shoulders shook, Aaron wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. The empty laughter added layers of color to the air.

Two people had died.

The Worburn servant who had informed his father of his movements and been instigated by MacQueen Lester to commit murder, and the witness who had been paid by Aaron to give false testimony to the Duke of Devonshire. There was only one reason for their deaths: the goal of perfect concealment.

Habitually, Aaron looked down at his empty hands. A hallucination of bright red blood soaking both hands flickered across his retina. These were the hands of a murderer, passed down through generations. Some emotion flickered, but it did not last long.

“What a tenacious life. How did he regain consciousness and memory exactly at that moment? Even a cheap play would be more realistic than this. That opium dealer was lucky, too. I suppose those who are meant to survive find a way. Then again, one would need that kind of tenacity to survive in such a filthy gutter.”

“It was all for your sake. If you resent me now…”

“Resent you?”

Beyond the polished mirror, a perfectly set doll was reflected without a single flaw. A sculpture carved by a master’s hand smiled. That sculpture required no soul.

“I don’t particularly feel that way.”

“Aaron, it was for you.”

“You are using me as an excuse again.”

“Do not think of escaping your duty.”

“Haha.”

Glancing at his father, who repeated himself like a parrot, Aaron gave a short, mocking laugh. His appearance in the mirror—though followed by a messy past—was still of a quality that could be sold quite dearly if certain conditions were attached. Straightening his back, he carefully examined the perfect defective product owned by the Wizfeldon family under the Dukedom of Cornwall.

“Where is there for me to run?”

He recalled the scenery of Ramdiff Forest he had seen a few months ago.

“Didn’t you destroy and burn it all?”

An empty lot, burnt pitch black, with no trace left behind.

A place where that was all there was.

“There is nowhere to return to.”

After tightening his cravat one last time, Aaron turned around. “Let us go.” There was not a shred of passion in his invitation to his father.

* * *

Candles in gilded holders and lamps lit the dining room cozily. The jewels embedded between the wall decorations carved with palm patterns were works of art in their own right.

Amidst the servants busily carrying food on expensive silverware, greedy conversations masked as dignified discourse were in full swing across the long table.

“Sir Folden seems to maintain an ambiguous position on the dispatch, so he appears to be refraining from any biased remarks even in the reading society. Furthermore, he has recently been casting votes of approval for the bills proposed by the Whigs quite often.”

“I agree that he is a vile opportunist. I wish Robern Folden had stepped forward to voice his opinion just once.”

“We need to keep a close eye on the movement to form a coalition centered around Earl O’Connell. There have been numerous sightings of him interacting more than necessary with cabinet ministers recently.”

“I wonder why he would attempt such a heinous act… it is truly the height of vulgarity. He is nothing more than a slave desperate for capital.”

Since the path was already decided and the puzzle pieces had been forced together, the conversation regarding the marriage proposal was not long. After notifying the pre-arranged wedding schedule and exchanging brief introductions, the interest of the two Dukes immediately shifted to the political struggle that moved Westminster. The Duchess of Cornwall was absent due to a chronic illness, and the Duchess of Newcastle was also keeping an awkward distance, hovering on the periphery of the conversation between the Dukes.

Clink. The sound of a glass being set down echoed unusually loud.

Aaron, who had been observing with a vacant expression, shifted his gaze. The culprit of the noise was the lady of the Newcastle family across the table. Despite her pale peach-colored dress and carefully applied makeup, the daughter of the ducal house looked profoundly miserable. Aaron figured his own expression was likely no different from hers.

“Is something uncomfortable?”

At his quiet question, the woman looked startled and placed her cutlery on the table.

“No… my stomach is a bit…”

“Is your stomach bothering you? You should rest.”

“It’s not that bad… it’s just…”

Even as her hands trembled from fear, the woman kept glancing at him. It was a look that suggested she had a purpose, rather than affection. Aaron, who had been consistently ignoring her out of annoyance, finally let out a light sigh and stood up. If he left her like this, it was only a matter of time before her gaze bored a hole through his cheek.

“Let us go to the terrace. How about getting some fresh air?”

“I would love to.”

Naturally, the woman replied immediately.

The garden, having entered early summer, was filled with greenery in every corner compared to a few months ago.

“The sunlight is lovely. The weather is already getting warm.”

At the ordinary observation, Aaron didn’t react and simply looked out at the garden. His hand gripping the terrace railing tightened. The territory and the manor were symbols of power and wealth.

“I see.”

The eyes looking over the vast estate that would soon be his were too numb and peaceful to belong to a master who would enjoy immeasurable wealth and glory.

“Thank you for arranging a separate space for us.”

The anxiety from moments ago vanished, and the woman offered her thanks in a much more relaxed tone. Aaron nodded insincerely without even turning his head.

“You kept staring, so I thought you had something to say to me.”

Though he spoke with the bare minimum of manners, there was no sense of reprimand. The hand in the lace glove fidgeted for a while. The only one spying on the two was the Cupid statue carved into the terrace entrance panel.

“I brought you out here because I felt my face was about to be pierced if I left you there, so if you have something to say, say it.”

“…This is actually better.”

At his attitude, which didn’t even maintain a surface-level level of politeness, the woman finally sighed with relief. She looked much more at ease.

“It’s obvious, but you’ve probably forgotten my name, haven’t you?”

At the direct question, Aaron studied her for a moment and then smirked.

“Do I need to know it?”

He had been brought here as a stud horse regardless. There was no reason to be interested in another person in the same predicament.

Despite the brazen answer, the woman smiled brightly. The anxious look from before was gone.

“You’re making it far too obvious that you were dragged here, Earl.”

“You are no different.”

At the short reply, the corners of her red lips curved upward.

“I am Lariensa Filmore of Newcastle.”

Having stated her name firmly, Lariensa lifted her chin with a haughty expression. She faced a marriage partner who maintained only enough courtesy not to be rude. A man who, like her, showed clear signs of having been dragged here. Aaron Wizfeldon of Cornwall, Earl Vispilt, was a beautiful man with striking looks, just as the rumors said.

‘He’s… much more decent than I thought.’

Contrary to the public reputation of being an opium addict who played promiscuously with courtesans, the man before her actually felt quite ascetic. His eyes were somewhat sharp and his aura was cold, but considering he had arranged a separate space just by looking at her complexion, he might not be as terrifying as the rumors suggested.

‘Perhaps…’

Once she judged that he wasn’t dangerous, her wavering courage steadied. Regardless of what kind of person he actually was, she had no time to weigh the pros and cons in this situation. After observing him a bit longer, Lariensa carefully bowed her head.

“First… I want to apologize in advance. I am truly sorry for committing a discourtesy.”

“An apology?”

At the inexplicable apology, Aaron raised an eyebrow and glanced at her.

“…My Lord.”

A trembling voice rang out softly.

“I ask that you reject this marriage proposal.”

At the unexpected words, his previously indifferent face transformed in an instant. The languid air shifted abruptly.

“Do you know what you are saying?”

Eyes searching for her intention flashed coldly. The authority in his tone pressed down on her, but the woman did not yield and answered firmly.

“I have something I must do. Something I absolutely must do. This marriage was arranged by my father’s will without my consent. My wishes were not considered in the slightest.”

Her long eyelashes fluttered. Her hesitation was brief. In the deathly silence, Lariensa spoke the words she had pondered and thought over throughout the entire carriage ride to Worburn House.

“I believe that marrying in this state of mind would be deceiving the other person. I ask this, despite the discourtesy.”

Aaron found the woman, who looked at him with fearless eyes, intriguing. They were eyes devoid of sinister schemes. Regardless of his positive assessment of Lariensa, Aaron remained silent with his arms crossed for a while, then tilted his head.

“I cannot understand…”

The movement of his hand stroking his chin was excessively slow. His drawn-out manner of speaking clearly revealed the complex mix of emotions he was feeling.

“I am not saying this expecting you to understand. I have committed a great discourtesy toward you, Earl. It is simply that I could not be dragged into a marriage without my will when I am in a situation where I must seriously consider my future.”

“No. I wasn’t trying to criticize you. Even if you are young, you know everything there is to know. After all, there is likely nothing we can decide on our own.”

His puzzled expression tilted to the side. Contrary to Lariensa’s expectation that he would be angry, the emotion the fiancé showed was pure curiosity.

“Does the Duke of Newcastle know your situation?”

Her father was a man who always forced her to live like a doll and obey her husband. Lariensa shrugged.

“No, if he did, I wouldn’t have even made it here.”

“Indeed, I asked a foolish question.”

Aaron gave a cold smile and gripped the railing carved with orange tree patterns tightly. After looking down at the garden in silence for a while, he continued his questioning.

“By any chance, do you already have a lover? My apologies if this is an intrusive question.”

Caught off guard by the sudden attack, Lariensa could not answer easily. It was a silent affirmation. Watching her for a moment, Aaron laughed irritably.

“I assume he is someone of humble status.”

It wasn’t a question that particularly sought an answer. The woman also remained silent, knowing that the questioner had no intention of sarcasm or condemnation.

“Is that emotion so important to you? To the point of committing such a reckless act?”

“…My Lord.”

Lariensa looked up and met eyes colder than Lake Windermere in the dead of winter. They were chilling eyes, but there was no hint of accusation. It was a gaze without hostility. She realized that this young Earl was safer than her father. The turbulence passed, and a calm stability returned.

“It is not because of a matter of emotion. Love is an important emotion, but I cannot make such a decision based on love alone. Love is not everything in my life, nor can it take responsibility for me. I will not give up all the benefits I have to risk everything for such an incomplete emotion. The only reason I admitted to having a lover is that I did not want to deceive you while making such a rude request.”

Staring at the woman, Aaron asked back in a cold tone.

“Then I do not know why you are saying this.”

“It is because I have decided on the path I must walk, and my desire to walk that path is so great.”

“Do you think that if I reject this marriage, it will end there?”

“Not necessarily, but I just want to buy a little time.”

“Do you think the Duke of Newcastle will give up on you? Or will he find another match and drag you there?”

“I know what you mean. I also know that there is a complex transaction between my father and the House of Cornwall.”

“There are plenty of families to replace Cornwall, and the Duke of Newcastle has every ability to connect you with such a family. I believe you are aware that our marriage is a political union, not a meeting for emotional exchange.”

Heavy anguish was visible in her painfully distorted eyes, but it was not an area for him to intervene. Aaron turned his gaze back to the garden, pretending not to see.

“Do you intend to say the same things to others that you said to me? That you have no intention of proceeding with the marriage and that you have a lover you love?”

“That is…”

“I trust you do not believe that whoever that man may be will simply accept it quietly after hearing your words. It would spark a fight between families under the guise of an insult; have you not considered such a problem?”

“I did not intend to insult anyone,” Lariensa denied urgently.

“The person receiving it may think otherwise. The pride of an English man is more trivial and insignificant than you imagine.”

His withered laughter deepened.

The light green leaves surrounding the red brick building looked more vivid than before. The verdant sprouts that had guarded the family for hundreds of years were like poison. A deadly toxin that, if touched, would burrow into the veins, take root, and burn through all the internal organs. It was a prison from which one could neither burn their way out nor escape.

His gaze, scanning the distance, was far away.

“Quite trivial, and insignificant.”

Through the faded time, a single cheap emotion that had not disappeared even after several years pushed through the cracks to make its presence known. Like a shabby, wretched piece of stone that remained until the end, no matter how many times it was killed or burned.

Aaron stared at the garden scenery in silence for a long time before turning back. His expression was quite determined, as if he had made a decision.

“Even if this marriage is canceled, the options remaining for you or me will not change. A new marriage proposal will arise, and you will meet a new heir. If you intend to ask the party involved to reject the proposal every time that happens, I will not stop you. Though I do wonder if the Duke of Newcastle will remain unaware of your intentions until then…”

He brushed his cheek twice with his palm and then shrugged his shoulders.

“Assuming you will become a subject of trade once again anyway, the conditions of marrying me are not so bad.”

“My Lord, I…”

“No.”

Cutting her off, Aaron pointed to the table lavishly set with fresh flowers.

“Why not listen to what I have to say? I guarantee it won’t be such a bad deal. Of course, that only applies if you are faithful to the goals you pursue, rather than love.”

“A deal?”

“If you agree, I shall have wine and light refreshments prepared.”

His tone was polite, but a subtle, inscrutable smile still lingered at the corners of his mouth.

✧ ✧ ✧

MacQueen’s expression was extremely dark as he walked out of the palace after the adjournment of Parliament.

‘This is maddening…’

The process of crossing the final line was not easy. For now, rather than attacking recklessly, he could only wait for the most opportune moment—the point when the atmosphere of Parliament would be swept in one direction.

As he approached the central lobby, his pace gradually slowed. Just then, the members of the House of Lords were pouring out, as their reading had also concluded. Since it was rare for the timings to overlap, MacQueen stopped and scanned the group of Tory Lords, led by the Duke of Cornwall.

“….”

As the Duke of Devonshire had warned, the influence the Duke of Cornwall wielded in Parliament was by no means negligible. Despite the long and painstaking effort to win over the centrists, the Duke of Cornwall had shaken public opinion several times with remarks expressing a firm will.

The indecisiveness of the centrists, who swayed steadily according to the visible intentions, had reached its peak. A majority of the Canning faction, who leaned toward the center, had long since been absorbed by the far-right. The fight between the Whigs and the Tories over the military dispatch budget proposal was becoming more intense as time passed.

“Lord Lester.”

At the familiar voice, MacQueen stopped and turned around. It was Foreign Secretary Bomer Orwell, who had occupied the special gallery throughout the reading.

“Sir Orwell.”

“Since it is difficult to see the Duke of Devonshire, I rarely get to see your face as well.”

“Lady Elisha’s condition has worsened, so the Duke of Devonshire has gone down to Wales. For the time being, I intend to attend the House of Lords readings as his proxy as much as possible, so we shall see each other often.”

“Oh dear.”

The old gentleman let out a short exclamation and offered an apology with an awkward expression.

“A difficult situation indeed. I am sorry I cannot be of more help to you.”

“Not at all. I fully understand the situation you are in, Sir Orwell.”

“Whether in the Commons or the Lords, with the current tide, a military dispatch won’t be easily accepted. In the Lords, the Duke of Cornwall continues to advocate for fair goods and peaceful trade. Damned fastidiousness,” the man grumbled irritably.

Orwell, a member of the White Club like MacQueen, could not actively support the Whig Party’s stance in favor of the dispatch due to his position as Foreign Secretary, but he shared the same intentions as Devonshire’s group.

“The local situation is not good. With the continued suppression by force, something big might happen soon.”

“The King must also make a decision before then.”

Despite the importance of the conversation, MacQueen could not concentrate fully. While his eyes were on Foreign Secretary Orwell, all his other senses were directed toward someone who might be somewhere in the lobby. However, as the time passed without seeing them, a hint of anxiety began to settle on his cool face.

“I hear everyone is planning to gather at the O’Connell Baronet Salon this evening.”

“Of course. First, I shall return to the residence and…”

The reason he couldn’t finish his sentence was that he finally spotted the person he had been unconsciously searching for. Though the distance was quite far, one person in particular stood out clearly in his vision. Neatly combed hair and a refined appearance above a white shirt and a blue gilet with ornate patterns. Even while smoking a leaf-cut tobacco, his upright posture was truly poised.

MacQueen suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu.

It was only a few months ago. On that day, MacQueen had also encountered Aaron Wizfeldon in the lobby after adjournment. The distance had been as far as it was now, and that man had been conversing with Gordon Baillyn, a young Member of Parliament who had heated up the house. How had he felt then? He had certainly mocked and despised that opium addict to his heart’s content. He had wanted to drag him from the highest peak down to the bottom and had even established a plan to execute that goal.

Just as his thoughts were deepening, the man, who had been listening to the conversation with a listless expression, suddenly turned his gaze. It happened so instantaneously that there was no time to avoid it. MacQueen locked eyes with Aaron, his face betraying his bewilderment.

“….”

Time flowed very slowly. In a scene where all sounds and movements were frozen, only two people breathed and moved. Only the colors of the opponent were vivid.

Slowly.

The sharp corners of the eyes curved slowly over time. The moment a faint smile touched those cool eyes, an intense pain pierced through his heart.

‘…Why is he smiling?’

An exaggerated heat floated through his mind. It was so hot and painful that he felt as if his entire body was burning. Meanwhile, the emotions returning like a tide were desperately searching for something.

The heartbeat of a lost heart.

A precious existence that had been erased.

MacQueen stared at the distant man as if possessed by a witch. Despite the distance, his entire spirit was directed toward that man. More accurately, toward that smile, which was fainter than the dawn mist.

The encounter was brief; soon, the group of Lords exited toward the door all at once, and Aaron Wizfeldon disappeared from view. His heart, having spent a dream-like short moment, convulsed in an inexplicable excitement.

“….”

In the space where the group had vanished in an instant, MacQueen could not easily avert his gaze, lingering on the afterglow of having locked eyes with the other.

“Theodore.”

A ringing sounded in his ears.

“Theodore.”

It was the name the man always called in bed.

Over and over. Again and again, and again.

Slowly, strength entered his fists. The clumsily assembled memories shook precariously, fueling his anger.

“Lord Lester, you don’t look well. Are you feeling unwell?”

Bomer Orwell spoke up with a worried face at the prolonged silence. Only then did MacQueen return to reality at the gesture of a hand tapping his arm.

“No. …Sir Orwell, I have been discourteous. Let us go. I shall escort you to the entrance.”

He turned away with a vague smile, but a fierce storm raged in his heart. The hand repeatedly brushing his cheek was filled with an unconcealable restlessness.

‘It is because I have devoted too much time.’

MacQueen defined the cause of his abnormal symptoms thus. He was spending too many nights with Aaron Wizfeldon. They had pressed their flesh together more than necessary, shared time, and exchanged warmth. There was certainly an excessive aspect to it.

‘He is a disgusting human who calls out another man’s name in bed.’

His jaw tightened, digging a groove. His steps, walking straight ahead, were relentless.

‘I must deal with this quickly.’

Swallowing his anxiety by force, MacQueen recalled the plan he had postponed. He was sick and tired of both Cornwall and Vispilt. They were nothing more than obstacles, people who needed to be dealt with urgently. Had it not been only a few months ago that he wished for them to be locked away in the Royal Hospital Closed Ward, smoking opium until they breathed their last in silence, without even needing to dirty his own hands?

No, even now, at this moment, Aaron Wizfeldon was merely an obstacle blocking his long-held desire.

He had to make a decision.

✧ ✧ ✧

The hands flipping through the documents were busy. MacQueen’s expression became more ambiguous as he meticulously examined the contents recorded on the papers one by one. As the silence grew long, a strange man sitting opposite pointed to a part of the document.

“Is this the total number of people from both London and Northampton?”

“Yes, although there may be actual discrepancies… it is a list of survivors filtered for the deceased through the population register and the electoral roll.”

“Hmm.”

The gaze checking those included in the list quickened. The shadow of the fire in the hearth spread across the cold wallpaper, a mix of navy and gold. It was one of the few lights illuminating the drawing room, which lacked any interior decoration. The conversation continued amidst the sound of burning logs.

“I have verified all residences and noted the age groups next to the names… but so far, there has been no one who seems to have a close relationship with the Duke of Cornwall’s family. Most are commoners, with one businessman and two bankers. The businessman has a chronic illness and has been recuperating in Scotland for over 20 years, and both bankers are of lower rank; even after investigating their relatives, not a single person had a link to Westminster or the Cornwall family.”

“Not even the sons, even if it’s not the Duke of Cornwall himself? No connection at all to Aaron Wizfeldon or Caliven Wisfield?”

The face asking the question frowned slightly. He looked somewhat disappointed with the results of the investigation. The subsequent report was also unsatisfying.

“As you well know, the eldest son, Earl Vispilt, lived dissolutely, mostly attending social clubs for nightlife until his recent return, didn’t he? I investigated all alumni from Eton and Cambridge, but I could not find a man with the same name.”

“I see.”

“I could look into abbreviated names in more detail, but it is difficult to guarantee the results. Since the only certain information is the name, there are many difficulties. You may stop here if you wish.”

After contemplating for a moment, MacQueen shook his head briefly.

“…A bit more. If you find even one more person, put them thoroughly on the list. Also, investigate the acquaintances and relatives of those already found in more detail… no, no.”

As his words trailed off, his eyes narrowed in thought. MacQueen waved his hand quickly.

Theodore.

It was an ambiguous pronunciation that stood somewhere between the English and Prussian styles. The more he made inferences and assumed situations, the more his unpleasant emotions doubled.

“It sounded more like a Prussian pronunciation. It wasn’t perfect, but yes. He might be from there…”

His eyes, realizing something, flashed heavily.

“Find men of Prussian origin residing in England, or those with family there. I will provide sufficient retainer and activity expenses. In particular, if you find someone with a direct relationship to Earl Vispilt, I will pay three times the amount already paid.”

More strength entered the gap between his firmly clenched teeth.

“I shall do my best.”

“Good. Then let’s move on to Rodinton. Since I gave you plenty of time, I trust you have brought good results this time. Likewise, if the information is useful, I will pay an additional success fee.”

“You will certainly be satisfied. This company will probably struggle to survive even a year.”

The man smirked at the client’s generous decision. Whether a few years ago or now, Baronet MacQueen Lester was his most valuable customer.

The gaze of the man standing by the window sank deep. As he drew the curtains, gray clouds stretched across the night sky, which had already grown dark.

The results of the background check, conducted with a large sum of money, were not bad. To be a card to play in a crisis, it would need a bit more refining and supplementing, but the level of work done so far was usable. As expected, Rodinton was hiding accounting irregularities, and the scale was beyond imagination.

“…The vote.”

The number of members of Parliament who had been successfully persuaded was about thirty.

Recalling that the difference in the vote during the last reading was 35, and that related bills had been rejected by an average of 30 to 40 votes, it was a number that did not allow for complete peace of mind.

Until a few months ago, more than double that number had expressed their intention to join, but as the Duke of Cornwall re-established himself as the leader of the Conservative Party, the number of defectors was increasing sharply.

‘I must speed up.’

Strength entered the hand gripping the curtain. His relationship with Earl Vispilt was proceeding smoothly. As the number of secret meetings accumulated, it took on a temperature and form distinctly different from before. He became unhesitant in expressing emotions, revealing more explicit desires. Despite the cumbersome method that required time and effort, both of them willingly endured that inconvenience. In fact, even if it wasn’t a sincere emotion, it was a relationship that could sufficiently be called lovers on the surface.

A relationship that no one spoke of, but no one denied.

No one referred to that relationship with a clear word.

Sodomy and opium.

If things continued this way, this foolish and lewd young Earl would have immense utility in shaking the Duke of Cornwall, in one way or another. Using the press, or blackmailing through various channels. The methods were diverse. Since there was a risk of his own identity being exposed in the process, it was better to find the fellow called Theodore and use him as a shield if possible.

“….”

Separate from his coldly operating reason, his stiff expression was far from pleasure. He was aware that he was becoming more deeply involved than necessary. However, since the other was someone who never showed his inner thoughts, it was inevitable. It was not easy for him either to casually whisper lies he had never told anyone else and continue a physical relationship.

As much as the effect was certain, it was dangerous for him as well. Despite the possibility that it could return as a boomerang at any time, the option of ending the relationship with Aaron Wizfeldon did not exist in MacQueen’s mind.

Above all, the strange name that had not left his mind since he first heard it was eating away at MacQueen’s spirit as time passed.

“Theodore.”

Every time they reached a climax, Aaron Wizfeldon unconsciously called out that strange name. While calling it, he himself was completely unaware of whom he was calling. He simply called that man in a longing voice, over and over, and over again. He had considered asking about it several times after the relationship ended, but he never put it into action.

The suspicion that he might be a substitute for someone grew stronger, but in the end, he decided it didn’t matter. Since he himself was not sincere from the start, and the purpose of wanting to use the other was mutual.

Of course, unlike his reason which had reached a conclusion, his body acted on its own, and in reality, MacQueen was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He had even developed a habit of blocking the other’s lips with his hand or a kiss just before ejaculation.

Lest the other look at him and call that strange name again.

…It was truly disgusting and ridiculous.

“….”

Suddenly, something caught his eye. It was a shabby piece of stone. With an expressionless face, MacQueen glared at the broken piece of marble. Simultaneously, the memory of when he had received that fragment flowed back.

It was also after they had shared a passionate sexual encounter.

The person, who had been lying face down catching their breath for a while, rummaged through a coat draped over a chair and handed something to MacQueen.

“What is this?”

“Keep it.”

“Does it have some meaning?”

“…It has no meaning. I just want you to keep it.”

It was a piece of stone so small that it was impossible to infer what its original shape had been. No memory or value could be felt from the marble fragment, which was about the size of a thumb.

“Could it be a lucky stone or something?”

“I wonder.”

The eyes, hard to read, curved suggestively. He suspected he was being teased, but due to the empty expression that followed, he could not continue the wordplay.

“….”

Returning to the table, MacQueen picked up the stone fragment lying miserably. No matter how he looked at it, it was just a common broken piece of stone. It wasn’t a precious mineral, nor could it possibly have historical or artistic value.

“Something completely useless, just like its owner.”

MacQueen fiddled with it a few more times and then tossed it carelessly into a drawer. The act of assigning meaning to such a worthless object was in itself an utterly useless endeavor.

✧ ✧ ✧

The biggest topic of conversation at the Crombit Club—a small social gathering consisting of young Conservative members of the House of Lords and Commons—was the imminent military dispatch proposal. It was the first meeting in over a month, but the expressions and complexions of those gathered around the round table were utterly gloomy.

“The atmosphere is gradually becoming more violent.”

“The actions of the Great Qing are only natural. They have simply shifted from defense to offense. What foolish monarch or official would stand by and watch their own people become addicted to opium? They should be ashamed of their shamelessness.”

As criticisms regarding cowardly coercion poured out, heavy sighs fell upon the table.

“But the degree of that attack is increasing, isn’t it? The blade is pointing toward their own merchants.”

“The amount of opium smuggled in despite the ban is increasing every year. What more can they do?”

“That may be so… but public opinion is ambiguous.”

“The backlash from the merchants and the trading companies is severe. Considering the extent of the taxes they’ve contributed, we cannot continue to ignore them. A riot may break out.”

Sighs erupted from various places around the table.

“Furthermore, the crowd following Baronet Enfield is considerable.”

At Gordon Baillyn’s following words, the hand flipping through the documents paused.

“As a former businessman, he knows the circumstances of the trading companies and merchants in detail. He is eloquent, skilled in politics, and possesses great financial power, so his influence is growing by the day. Many conservative members and government officials have already been swayed by him.”

“Thanks to the efforts of Lord Cornwall, we are preventing that absurd bill from passing… but it is only a temporary measure.”

Cheeks hollowed as he took a deep drag of the Leaf-Cut Tobacco. While cigar-shaped smokes were often criticized as lacking dignity compared to pipes, the leaf-rolled variety was more effective for rapid stabilization.

Aaron leaned his head back with his legs crossed. His mind felt heavy. An infinitely relaxed atmosphere was blocking the flow of precise thought. Meanwhile, Gordon Baillyn’s anxiety deepened.

“I feel a sense of self-loathing. The fact that we have dragged out this inhumane situation for several years.”

“Isn’t it the nature of the heart to change once one looks away? Since the margin of the vote is narrowing, if we interpret it positively, it’s a good sign.”

“I feel a bit more relieved now that Earl Vispilt puts it in a positive light.”

Aaron placed the half-smoked Leaf-Cut Tobacco on a flat dish.

“There will be a meeting of the House of Lords soon.”

It was a leisurely response, mismatched with the atmosphere thick with tension and despair.

“My father intends to draw in as many centrist members as possible. I shall also actively persuade them. A considerable number of the Canning faction are currently wavering due to Earl Spencer’s recent change in course. If you don’t mind, Sir Baillyn, why not join us? No one is better than you at the art of persuasion.”

“If I am invited, I shall of course attend.”

Aaron wore a twisted smile at the expression that looked quite touched.

“We must stop this vulgar war that will remain a stain on history forever, must we not?”

“That is correct.”

“I agree. How wretched a reason this is. An economy that can only be saved by forcing opium upon savages. It is utterly shameful to think that such a method is for the good of the country.”

Starting with the lightly tossed topic, the debate ignited fiercely once again.

After watching for a while, Aaron searched the inner pocket of his coat with a vacant expression. The touch of the high-quality paper that followed was one of the sensations he had become most accustomed to recently.

The encounter held between the humid wind and the darkness was more persistent and clingy than usual. The sensation of being rubbed from behind was excessively vivid, and the tip of the glans resting against the fully opened entrance was hotter than necessary. Feeling the inner walls open so easily, Aaron shook his head and gasped for breath.

“Haa, ……Ah!”

Though he had applied plenty of oil, it was not an organ designed for insertion in the first place, so he could not escape the feeling of a foreign object. MacQuan did not hesitate and inserted himself all the way to the end. Both bodies grew hot with heat. Heok. With a sound of losing breath, the cheeks—which still had some flesh—dipped in like dimples. Rubbing the hollow with his thumb, MacQuan pressed his body close and embraced Aaron completely.

“Mm……”

“Open your eyes.”

“…….”

“Aaron.”

Unlike usual, because he was not accustomed to inserting while facing each other, Aaron could not easily meet MacQuan’s eyes. His lean-muscled back and chest, heaving with thin breaths, twitched regardless of his will. MacQuan persistently spread the buttocks. When the hole gripping the member became clearly visible, his throat grew dry.

“Does it hurt? Why are you trembling so much? Are you alright?”

“No……”

“Look at me.”

Tsk. MacQuan clicked his tongue lowly and wrapped his palm around Aaron’s fully erect member, shaking it lightly.

Heu-uk, eu-ut.

The reddened, swollen chest heaved in time with the pitiful moans. Every time the member slid out of his body, Aaron shuddered and rubbed his forehead against MacQuan’s shoulder. Despite the prolonged insertion and the alien feeling of being stirred at will, his body was faithfully feeling pleasure.

“Aaron……”

The tightly bitten lips turned bright red. Aaron. Whispering the name lowly over and over, MacQuan poured out kisses. The buttocks held by both hands trembled, repeatedly tightening and loosening around the member. Just as it seemed to pull back slightly, it plunged deep into the gap again with a wet sound.

“Ah……”

MacQuan bit the pale nape of the neck several times. Red tooth marks were engraved like seals upon the skin. A long-stretching fire was burning through the body.

“Don’t… stop, the marks… ah……”

“It’s alright. It’s alright, so……”

“It hurts……”

At the stinging sensation, Aaron shook his head and tried to avoid him. Of course, it wasn’t long before MacQuan sank his teeth into the opposite side of the neck. Before he could even complain of the pain, MacQuan pressed down hard on one of Aaron’s legs.

“Agh!”

The thick member dug in at an unfamiliar angle. The body, startled by the rough insertion, arched violently. The more the shaking body rubbed, the more the heat rose. The swollen entrance turned red from the rough friction and vomited the semen ejaculated a while ago.

“Augh, uk, aaah!”

Following the movements of the faster and stronger thrusts, the entrance stretched haphazardly. A wet sound, so intense it felt as if the skin were being pierced, tickled the ears. Aaah— ah, ah! He let out screams like a song. Since there was no one to hear and no one who knew, no one condemned them. As the member recklessly ravaged the space between the buttocks, the soft soles of the feet beat relentlessly against MacQuan’s back.

“Aaron, it’s… hot down here. You are……”

“Eu-ut…… ah!”

“Just how hot you are……”

The body, unable to keep up with the speed of insertion, moved on its own. Pushed up by the impact, his head hit the headboard. Soon, a large hand wrapped around Aaron’s head and pulled him into the embrace. The scent of damp sweat pushed sharply into the tip of the nose.

“Stop, stop……”

Before he could even process the scent, his legs were spread wide again and he was penetrated deeply. The hand gripping the sheet trembled. Eventually, the shivering body could no longer endure and collapsed completely into MacQuan’s arms.

“It hurts……”

Despite the irritation, the man was willingly accepting the heat. MacQuan hugged the sticky body even tighter. They were already held tight, but with the pressure compressing the entire back, the two bodies clung together so closely that not a single strand of hair could pass through. The thumping, erratic sound of the heartbeat was not the kind that could be controlled. He gently stroked Aaron’s waist once more.

“Aaron……”

“I’m exhausted, stop……”

Despite the signs of genuine exhaustion, MacQuan paid it no mind and rubbed his lips several times against the sweat-beaded bridge of the nose and the pointed tip. No matter how much they kissed, he felt thirsty, and if they were apart for even a moment, his insides burned with anxiety. Unable to find the reason, MacQuan recklessly dug back into Aaron’s body.

The strengthless knees spread apart on their own, pulling the muscles. Thick lubricant and cloudy semen flowed between the legs along the open hole. It was a vulgar sight, almost giving the illusion of ejaculating from the rear.

“Just endure a little longer.”

“Uugh……”

“Just a little……”

Driven by an unbearable desire, MacQuan lifted Aaron’s remaining leg onto his shoulder and tilted the body back. Following the completely folded body, the inner walls opened even wider. MacQuan did not miss the opportunity and began to rapidly thrust the half-withdrawn member back in.

Aaron grit his teeth at the sensation of being roughly shoved. Excessive excitement penetrated various parts of the body to a dangerous degree. The cries grew louder at the rough insertions that made a slapping sound.

“Ut!”

At the impact that felt almost like violence, Aaron blinked rapidly. MacQuan continued the rough insertion with their foreheads pressed together.

“Ah, aaah…… heu-uk…… ah, aaah……”

“Aaron…… it’s too tight…… your body is too… wonderful…… ut……”

“Slowly… ut, do it… ah, aaah! Ah!”

Every time the member was driven to the end and completely withdrawn, the previously flowed ejaculate splashed mercilessly. The inside was completely limp. The leg draped over the shoulder trembled, and whenever the prostate was pierced, the toes curled and straightened repeatedly. The hole, stretched to its limit, was almost frightening.

“You like it rough, don’t you?”

“Augh, who, uk, uk!”

“More than when I do it gently…… fuu……”

“Ah!”

“When I insert roughly…… do you know how much you moan and crave ejaculation? Look at this……”

Even without being touched separately, the member, which had become fully erect, was hard enough to ejaculate at any moment. When he flicked the area leading down to the perineum with his fingertips, the body flinched violently, unable to bear the cruel sensation. In the flushed face, filled with sensation, pain did not exist.

Unlike the beginning, the fully opened inner walls greedily devoured the member. It felt as if the scent of flowers in full bloom were wafting. At the pleasure of the wet mucosa tightly wrapping around the penis, MacQuan frowned lowly and shook his head.

“Stop it…… nng.”

The interlaced fingers trembled. The hot member ruthlessly ravaged the most fragile skin. It was a persistent greed. No matter how roughly he scraped, the body that had been stubbornly adjusted over several months was faithfully stained with pleasure.

“Heu-uk……”

Aaron gasped for breath and lifted his head. Eyes clouded with heat wavered. It was a look often seen just before losing reason.

Even knowing it was merely a physiological phenomenon, MacQuan could not take his eyes off those transparent tears. The firm body, the hot breath, the deeply drenched hair and pubic hair. It was a body that perfectly accepted a man.

‘Someone knows this sight.’

Unlike the heat that was gradually expanding its range, one side of his heart was extremely dry and parched. It was a twisted demon that had been parasitizing the depths of his heart since some time ago.

‘Someone other than me.’

Even amidst the violently beating heart, reason sank coldly. Thick veins bulged on the strained nape of the neck.

“I want to kill them all.”

He wanted to kill them. Everyone who knew this body, these moans, this sweat. He wanted to carve those memories out.

“Stop, stop— aaah—!”

The man, filled with murderous intent, traced the curve of Aaron’s ear and blew hot air. Even amidst the passion, his ferocious eyes flashed darkly with hatred toward someone.

“Everyone.”

“Stop, augh, ut. Uk!”

“Every single one.”

“Aagh! Ah! Aaah……”

Words, unknown to whom they were addressed, flowed out unconsciously. His head tilted back, exposing the white, slender neck defenselessly. It was a clear sign asking to be strangled and have his breath stopped right there.

Unconsciously, MacQuan wrapped one hand around the lean nape. As the sweat-drenched skin clung to his palm, he applied strength. Even at the sound of choking, a cruel impulse boiled over. MacQuan looked down at the scorching body with indifferent eyes.

“Nng, ut……”

The shaft, which had pulled out halfway, slid straight back in between the buttocks. The man, unable to overcome the pain and pleasure, struggled violently. The chest, drenched in saliva, glistened under the dim lighting. Intoxicated by the visual obscenity, MacQuan pushed himself in to the very end. The soft inner flesh was accepting the ferocious energy to its limit.

“St… op…… ut!”

“I want to kill everyone who knows you like this.”

With the dull sound of two bodies colliding from the violent movement, white foam formed at the entrance. The flesh, drenched in semen from multiple ejaculations, slid out and was driven back in countless times. The panting body writhed upon the sheet. The stimulation was excessive.

“Over here……”

“A-ut…… ah!”

Licking the dry lips with his tongue, MacQuan lifted the body beneath him. The slender upper body was raised without much effort. As they instantly shifted into a position sitting on the bed and embracing each other, the union naturally deepened. The body curved round, unable to withstand the impact of the insertion deep into the belly.

“What are you doing, ut……”

“Please look at me.”

“Don’t do this. Mm……”

Bewilderment quickly spread over the face full of pleasure. The rapidly shifting focus revealed his confused inner thoughts. At the unbearable sensation, Aaron twisted his waist. With a small movement, the member driven almost to the testicles slid out slightly. The attempt to pull it out completely failed as hands gripped and spread the buttocks wide.

“Augh!”

Under the strong pulling force, the body that had tried to stand up sank back down. The member was driven in to the end once more. At the vivid sensation, Aaron threw his head back. His pupils dilated, and his mouth, unable to handle the shock, opened naturally, letting saliva flow.

“Ah……”

“Don’t run away…… ut……”

“I told you… not to……”

“Fuu…… come here……”

MacQuan quickly embraced the body that was about to fall backward from loss of strength and pulled him back toward himself. The smooth, lean-muscled body entered his arms. The skin was soft, but old scars remained like relics across the white body. MacQuan traced the scar marks in the darkness. The hyper-sensitive body trembled, unable to even endure that.

“It’s like a painting.”

“A-ut, uk…… uk, ut……”

“The scars… are like a painting.”

MacQuan whispered gloomily and buried his lips in the soft ear. As long, firm fingers dug through the sweat-drenched blonde hair, the locks became a tangled mess. The scent of humid sweat and a cool body fragrance mixed, stimulating the sense of smell. His other hand reached down to touch the junction that swallowed his member. Because it had been spread wide, it was scorching hot and drenched in the semen they had both shed.

“Does it feel good?”

“Heuu…… stop saying… useless things……”

“I like it…… hut……”

“Aaah!”

The body moved on its own following the force thrusting up from below. To support his body from falling backward, Aaron hugged MacQuan even tighter and shook his waist.

“It hurts……”

“It’s not just that it hurts, is it…… ut.”

“No…… no, heu-uk……”

At the sensation that was ticklish yet suffocating, Aaron shook his head repeatedly and sobbed. Because the large, hot member was violently thrusting up from below, his mind felt dizzy. It was just as the speed of the self-grinding movement of the waist was becoming faster.

“Aaron, Aaron……”

“Augh. Uugh…… Theo—”

The body, unable to endure the strong piercing insertion, swayed violently. It was evidence that the climax was approaching. The dry lips were preparing to utter that name once again. At that moment, MacQuan’s face, intoxicated by pleasure, distorted ferociously with excitement.

Damn it, again.

It was a sound so small it was hard to understand, but it was a name he had now become accustomed to. Fearing he might say that name again, MacQuan hurriedly lowered his head, met the other’s lips, and kissed him as if devouring him.

It could even be called fear.

“Do not say a word.”

Aaah, the wet moan was like a scream. While still kissing, MacQuan spread the buttocks until the hole was exposed and inserted himself fiercely once more. Amidst the chaotic noise, the pale body twisted, unable to overcome the pleasure.

“Do not say anything.”

The fingertips gripping his shoulder trembled with excitement. Despite the pain of skin being pierced, MacQuan moved to an even greater extreme.

“Heuu…… mm, mm……”

The blocked lips could no longer utter that name. Only then did a cheap sense of satisfaction quickly circulate. As he pressed the sweat-drenched chest close, he could faintly feel the other’s heartbeat. Intermittent laughter and moans, screams and pulses, sweat, breath, and heat all became a tangled mess.

Theodore.

If that man were to look at him and call that name again, he might truly kill the man in his arms then.

“Did something happen?”

At the toneless voice, MacQuan stopped fiddling with Aaron’s hand and turned his eyes. Thanks to the thick blackout curtains completely blocking the outside, it was hard to tell if it was day or night. While repeatedly kissing the lean back of the prone partner, MacQuan shook his head, saying no.

“Nothing in particular happened. Does it look like something happened?”

“You are too……”

“Too?”

Aaron hesitated for a moment and placed the empty glass carelessly beside the console. Ripples formed in the subtext following the leisurely hand movement.

“Nothing.”

Red marks were vivid along the prominent line of the neck. They were traces he had left. Looking on with a satisfied face, MacQuan hugged Aaron deeply from behind. A strange sensation, hard to put into words, was blooming in his chest. Another person, unable to endure the awkwardness, reacted immediately.

“Go away.”

“Just a little longer. It’s not as if I’m leaving right this second.”

Knowing that he would eventually lose to him, his tone of response was utterly relaxed. As expected, with a sigh, the body that had been tailored to him from start to finish slid into his arms. MacQuan looked down at the man lying on his arm. Bright hair scattered chaotically around his arm and shoulder.

It was a beautiful color.

The admiration did not last long. Feeling an uncomfortably churning sensation in his heart, MacQuan wrapped his hand around Aaron’s again.

“……?”

The habitual stroking stopped as he discovered something. At a glance, the man’s hand looked merely white and smooth, but the palm was filled with tiny wounds. Some were quite deep scars, to the point where it was strange that he hadn’t noticed them until now. Come to think of it, throughout his body…

Wounds?

The tightening in his chest felt akin to anxiety. MacQuan hurriedly turned Aaron’s body. Before the other had time to be flustered by the position of facing and hugging each other, the question followed immediately.

“Have you received training in swordsmanship?”

“Swordsmanship?”

“The wounds on your palm. There are some on the back of your hand as well.”

Aaron quietly met his eyes. The gaze looking back was filled with pain, as if he were the one who had been hurt. Swordsmanship. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. There was no need to reveal every detail and reason to someone who had no memory.

“Only as much as was necessary for a general education.”

“I see. Indeed, with guns existing, there would be no need to use a sword in actual combat. Moreover, since you aren’t from a military background, you would have no reason to go to a battlefield.”

While it wasn’t entirely unheard of for the heir of a great noble house to participate in war, unless it was a critical conflict involving the fate of the nation, participation was mostly the lot of second sons who had chosen a military career. Furthermore, in an era where even duels were conducted with pistols, swordsmanship was merely a performative education among the nobility. As MacQuan imagined him clumsily swinging a sword, something entered his field of vision.

“My, I didn’t notice when I was just looking…”

MacQuan, holding the pale wrist, narrowed his eyes. Though Aaron’s persistence was enough to make one push him away, he simply entrusted his hand to MacQuan and watched him in silence.

“There are quite a few deep cuts as well.”

Even with care, deep wounds never fully disappear. Blue eyes followed the rough touch tracing the scars. Rubbing the calloused palm, MacQuan kissed Aaron’s cheek lightly.

“You must have struggled quite a bit to treat these. How did you get hurt like this?”

“My skill was abysmal.”

“You must have been insincere in your training.”

“Yes.”

The stifled voice flowed hoarsely. It felt dark and gloomy, but MacQuan brushed it off and continued the conversation.

“Your marksmanship certainly wasn’t great either. Back then, didn’t you fail to hit a single shot?”

“Back then?”

At the look of utter confusion, MacQuan let out a short laugh.

“Don’t tell me you don’t even remember?”

“I don’t know.”

“The first day you attended the hunting competition before the accident.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The slightly furrowed brow, the tightly closed lips, and the pensive look suggested that he truly did not remember at all.

This time, MacQuan could not hide his emptiness and laughed loudly. To him, it had been an event so intense that Aaron Wizfeldon was etched into his mind as a piece of trash obsessed with opium, yet the party involved didn’t even remember it properly. At this rate, there was no way he would remember their first meeting at the Spencer Earl Family. An answerless emotion colored his angular face. It was a feeling akin to disappointment.

“I wondered, but you really don’t remember.”

“At that time…”

A rare expression of bewilderment appeared on the cold face.

“I know. You were certainly heavily intoxicated by opium.”

An uncontrolled spite slipped out before he knew it. Consequently, the hand being held flinched for a moment.

“It’s a bit funny that I’m the only one angry over something the other party doesn’t even remember. Do you not know what you said to me?”

“…….”

An awkward silence flowed.

“Since I was rarely in my right mind.”

The corners of his elegant eyes were subtly stiff. He was full of awkwardness.

“Still.”

The slow but clear voice had the effect of making one focus on the conversation. MacQuan did not rush him and waited for the next words. On the face where playfulness had completely vanished, only seriousness remained.

“I remember vaguely.”

The twisted heart paused for a moment, and a cold heat wrapped around his throat. His mind felt stifled, and his throat complained of pain. It was a pain without a reason. MacQuan smiled lukewarmly, pretending it was nothing.

“……Should I say thank you for remembering even vaguely? It’s late, but since our hearts are in sync now, that’s enough. It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember. Memories can be built up again.”

As he listened, Aaron’s expression slowly stiffened. As Aaron made a gesture to pull away from his embrace, MacQuan instead hugged him tighter. The weak resistance faded shortly after.

“What’s passed has no meaning.”

“…….”

“Only what comes next is important.”

In any case, it was ridiculous to place meaning on the past now. Past ill will wasn’t important. For now, the priority was how to utilize the man he held in preparation for the coming future, and to do that, he needed to foster affection within a smooth relationship. He had to strike at the moment of greatest trust, when the other would unreservedly show their weaknesses.

MacQuan skillfully changed the subject.

“Come to think of it, you always wore black gloves back then. You hardly wear them these days.”

While white gloves were the basic etiquette for a gentleman, in MacQuan’s memory, Aaron Wizfeldon had always worn black gloves.

“Perhaps…”

MacQuan traced the red scar extending from the base of the thumb to the palm. It was the deepest wound. Judging by the size and degree, it suggested that it had taken a long time to heal. The reason for wearing black gloves was likely to hide scars or blood on the hands. White gloves being stained with blood would be sufficient for a duel alone.

“Was it to hide the wounds?”

“……Perhaps.”

A gentle smile lingered in the short answer. Having spent a significant amount of time overlapping their bodies and being together, MacQuan knew that most of the man’s ambiguous answers meant affirmation.

“I suppose so.”

Hugging the incredibly arrogant man tighter, MacQuan recalled the first moment he saw Aaron Wizfeldon. Not a single thing about it wasn’t the worst. The sight of him lying on a chaise longue, half-asleep and intoxicated by opium; the foul mouth that insulted him and poured out verbal abuse. The contemptuous gaze, the arrogant tone. The lazy smile.

……The one who was perfectly isolated in that space.

Not even realizing he was touching the other’s hand with obsessive persistence, MacQuan blurted out the words circulating in his subconscious.

“They suited you well, though.”

At those words, the blue eyes that had been following the hand tracing the scars wavered greatly for a moment. An answer returned only after twice as much time had passed.

“……Because there’s no reason for more wounds to be made now.”

The voice answering slowly was dark. The gaze looking down at the hand left only with scars was also suppressed and twisted. MacQuan stopped the seductive words he had been casually uttering. Despite the expressionless face, helplessness and melancholy remained on Aaron’s face like scars.

Why does that person have such an expression? He must have had everything.

As the atmosphere became heavier than necessary, MacQuan shifted the topic indirectly.

“Your swordsmanship is a mess.”

Faint breaths intersected.

“Your marksmanship is abysmal.”

The more he spoke, the thirstier his throat became. It was a pain like being scraped by sharp iron bars. Eventually, unable to overcome his impatience, MacQuan hugged Aaron tighter. The moderately cooled skin touched pleasantly.

“It would be a disaster if you were dragged off to a battlefield.”

At the playful tone, Aaron also chuckled and lightly tapped the hand holding him tight.

“Yes.”

With a clean admission, a low laugh echoed quietly. The low, humming whisper was calm.

“I’d probably die without lasting half a day.”

Die.

It was obviously a joke. Despite knowing this, a violent rejection surged in MacQuan’s heart at the mention of death. He felt a sensation akin to despair, as if a corner of his heart were collapsing. His handsome eyes distorted harshly at the distant anxiety.

“I don’t want to hear such things, even as a joke.”

“I thought you would be happy.”

The low laughter echoed peacefully.

“……Why did you think I would be happy? What nonsense.”

“Unexpected.”

“You are truly talking nonsense.”

MacQuan frowned as if he were genuinely displeased. His expression, having lost its composure, was rapidly crumbling.

Ridiculous nonsense.

To hide an inexplicable anxiety, he repeatedly buried his face in the other’s nape. He rubbed the soft skin with the bridge of his nose and grasped the scarred hand, interlocking their fingers. While desperately pressing their bodies together, MacQuan did not know what kind of expression he was making.

“You are someone I cannot do without. I must stop you from ever participating in a war.”

“Yes.”

“I’m serious. I imagined it, and it really doesn’t feel good.”

“……Yes.”

“I really hate it. Please never say such things again, even as a joke.”

The playful smile deepened. Separate from the relaxed atmosphere, MacQuan’s mood plummeted uncontrollably.

‘Die? Don’t make me laugh.’

The gaze staring at one wall shone gloomily.

‘Because he lived without lack, he can say such things so easily. A noble fallen into luxurious boredom…’

He disliked that haste of mentioning death so lightly. Death in war is nothing more than a dog’s death.

What meaning could there be in that?

MacQuan loathed the boredom commonly seen in nobles. Outside the splendid mansions, there were countless people for whom even rest was a luxury, struggling to endure each day. For a lower-class laborer, helplessness was not an emotion coming from endless leisure, but from a despair that could not be escaped.

Therefore, he hated that filthy gaze that, unable to endure the boredom provided by affluence, toured the slums of London and threw cheap sympathy and pity toward miserable children.

“…….”

Silence returned once more. It was an uncomfortable yet stable feeling. MacQuan thought that since Earl Vispilt was not a talkative man, this part wasn’t bad, and he closed his eyes again. It was better to change the subject before his thoughts grew too deep.

“It feels like a dream to be spending a comfortable time with you.”

“…….”

“Because it’s something I’ve only ever imagined.”

The expression of the one craving falsehoods was peaceful, making the actual deception irrelevant. Leaning into the afternoon languor, MacQuan yawned softly and pulled his fake lover in his arms even closer. The moderately matched temperature gave him a strange peace. The flames of hatred toward an unspecified multitude that had been burning in his heart until a moment ago slowly died down. It was a bizarre comfort.

“I’m sleepy.”

“…….”

“And you?”

“A little. You look sleepier.”

“Yes, I am quite.”

Answering simply, MacQuan buried his forehead in the other’s thin shoulder and took a deep breath. Even though they had mixed their bodies to a sickening degree until a moment ago, he wanted to touch closer and be connected in a more definite form.

“Go to sleep.”

The quiet voice was peaceful. He had no real intention of sleeping, but MacQuan closed his eyes and gave a rough nod. Perhaps the fatigue was the only truth, as drowsiness rushed in immediately.

Whenever he had secret meetings with Aaron Wizfeldon at Briston House, he had to hide and deceive too many emotions. The act of deceiving the other with intention was bound to be tiring.

Of course, on the premise of being faithful only to pleasure, that time was not bad. The insomnia that had been a chronic illness for years would disappear, albeit clumsily, during the time spent with the man. Perhaps it was because his sensitivity reached its peak every time they met, exhausting his energy. While frantically mixing their bodies, the guilt toward his sickly fiancée or the pricks of conscience would vanish like dust.

Everything about the man, who would act fiercely but eventually follow his will, was stimulating. Because he had been too busy running forward for a long time, his sexual release had been minimal or always a secondary priority, so the satisfaction provided by this relationship was a raw sensation beyond addiction. Thinking that the acts he had lived without caring about had finally burst like a floodgate, MacQuan scanned the other’s scent more thoroughly.

“How about we nap together and then have a meal? You must be tired too.”

“I’m fine.”

“Stay with me just a little longer.”

His eyelids grew heavier with the languid feeling. Since there was plenty of time, the act of falling asleep while holding each other wasn’t bad. MacQuan hugged the cold body deeply. His genitals became erect again at the touch of the soft skin, but sleep took priority. It was around the time their breaths mixed and their respiration and heartbeat began to match the same pace.

“There is something I have to say.”

“Something to say?”

At the quiet voice, MacQuan lifted his heavy eyelids.

“You probably already know.”

The blunt lips curved very slightly. It was only a faint movement, but it created the illusion that the entire cold impression had changed.

“Marriage talks are underway.”

“…….”

The sound of a sharp intake of breath echoed loudly. It was the moment the languor maintained after intercourse came to a perfect end. The slight drowsiness vanished instantly, and MacQuan bolted upright. His shadowed face was full of ferocity.

“With the Duke of Newcastle’s family?”

“Did you know?”

The face that was about to question a lover’s betrayal was stained with perplexity. Silence was an immediate affirmation. Aaron laughed shortly and rested his forehead against MacQuan’s chest.

“You were doing your background checks quite thoroughly.”

“Aaron, it’s not like that.”

The more the other was flustered, the louder the laughter became.

“It’s something I expected to some extent. It doesn’t matter.”

“I will not make excuses.”

“A while ago, I had a formal meeting with the Duke of Newcastle’s family. I met the partner there and we spoke.”

“What does that mean? A formal meeting? Explain it to me.”

The words were excessively honest. MacQuan paused his breath for a moment and grabbed Aaron’s shoulders. The mind that had been entangled in complex calculations went blank in an instant. It might be more appropriate to say he was angry. Logic and reason vanished, and he couldn’t even think of a single simple word.

“The engagement is planned to proceed. Probably around the time autumn passes. My mother needs to be present, and since her health is not good yet, it might take a bit more time, but it won’t go past this year.”

“…….”

MacQuan stared blankly at the man who was rambling with a heartless face. The shimmering irises reflected one person’s distorted face without filter.

Was that man with the crumbling expression me?

In the quietly flowing air, MacQuan finally realized the words he had heard a moment ago.

“I don’t…”

His throat felt scorched black. No matter how many times he swallowed, the pain was not resolved. He felt the illusion that both his esophagus and trachea might be burnt away. MacQuan shook his head haltingly.

“I don’t understand……”

A chill ran to the top of his head. Acting as if he were composed was impossible.

“……Did you have to tell me that, right now?”

“I…”

“Before.”

The air that had been soaked in heat cooled rapidly. MacQuan asked with a crooked smile.

“……You said you didn’t have a hobby of sharing your things with others.”

Words came out without thought. The unrefined language was terribly immature and dark. At the sight of him raging silently, Aaron nodded without a word.

“I am the same.”

“…….”

“I also do not share my things with others. Never. Nor do I let them be stolen. Never, under any circumstances.”

A black heart seethed. It was a hideous and massive filth.

MacQuan laid bare his pitch-black jealousy. The ability to discern whether the emotion he felt now was truth or lie had long since vanished, engulfed in heat. With hasty movements, he pulled Aaron up.

“Do you intend to make me your mistress?”

MacQuan sneered, pointing to his own chest with his fingertips.

“Did you think that I would be satisfied with being merely your mistress?”

Every word uttered contained condensed rage. It was the true nature of a man whose composure had completely vanished.

It was as if the fake had swallowed the real.

“Answer me.”

“…….”

“Answer me!”

His heart burned with anxiety, but the man merely looked at him with cold, indifferent eyes, offering no excuse. The prolonged silence only fueled MacQuan’s rage. The hand gripping the other man trembled uncontrollably. MacQuan desperately wanted this brazen man to say something, to offer some kind of explanation.

An engagement.

He had already known that marriage talks were underway with the House of Newcastle. Naturally, they would marry, and an engagement was simply the preceding step. Had he and Elisha Lenzdoor not done the same? There was nothing unusual about it.

He knew this intellectually.

Despite there being nothing strange about it, MacQuan was genuinely furious. The thick, black unpleasantness was a tangible emotion.

Aaron Wizfeldon had never once refused a sexual encounter. Far from refusing, he was generous with pleasure, as if his body had been born for MacQuan. As they grew accustomed to one another, how sweet those faint moans had become.

And yet. This promiscuous, selfish creature intended to marry a daughter of a noble house and take her into his arms.

While intending to produce an heir and continue the family line through that woman, he clung to MacQuan’s body with a desperation that bordered on longing.

While finding ecstasy in their relationship.

How.

How could he.

“I… I didn’t become your mere mistress just to…”

“I won’t marry.”

A sudden silence fell at the answer, which was entirely unexpected. MacQuan frowned, struggling to comprehend the words.

“…What is the meaning of that?”

With a face clearly etched with displeasure, he immediately added, “It is impossible for that to be the case when discussions between both parties are already underway. Do you take me for a fool?”

His grip on the man’s arm tightened.

“You’re intending to marry right now. Isn’t it all already decided? Explain it to me. Aaron, explain it to me properly.”

Across the exposed skin of the man’s body, the red marks MacQuan had left remained. They were brands, proving from start to finish that the person before him belonged to him. His anxiety expanded without limit. Just as his heart hammered so violently it made his head ring, a palm covered in scars lightly covered the back of MacQuan’s hand.

“Listen to me until the end.”

Aaron restrained MacQuan in a calm, sunken tone. The eyes that had been raging fiercely stared at the hand covering his own. The gesture of tapping gently, as if soothing him, tightened and shook the depths of his heart.

“Instead, I intend to drag out the engagement period as long as possible.”

“…!”

“Just as you did.”

As his completely rigid body relaxed, the breath he had been holding poured out. The expression on his face, which had been frozen in uncertainty, collapsed all at once. It was the moment his sturdy mask, which he had prided himself on, shattered. Emptiness and relief, anger and resentment, curiosity and frustration, agony, anguish, greed—various emotions surged through the cracks.

“What do you mean by…”

Aaron took in every nuance of the colorful expressions on his ‘dog’s’ face. Very slowly, a bitter smile etched itself onto his lips.

“Though I still cannot trust you…”

A hand with prominent knuckles cupped MacQuan’s cheek. MacQuan flinched instinctively at the leisurely touch. Even if the man hadn’t explicitly named who he didn’t trust, there was no way he didn’t know.

“….”

The smile, with only one eye squinting, gave the illusion of a sob. MacQuan hurriedly turned his face away without realizing it. For some reason, the act of meeting his eyes was painful. Despite the blatant avoidance, the cool fingertips slowly traced MacQuan’s shadowed cheek. It was a movement driven purely by instinct.

“I am trying to want to trust you.”

“….”

A heavy thumping echoed beneath his heart. The flamboyant eloquence that had captivated the masses was useless at this moment. The only reaction the con artist, immersed in his act, could manage was to stare blankly at the floor.

Silence swallowed more silence.

In the narrow room, the only sound was the breathing of two people. It was the first time the man, who had been so wary of others, had revealed his inner thoughts.

A success.

It was a remarkable achievement reached after overcoming months of disgust. Perhaps now, he might lower his guard and answer questions regarding Rodinton or Cornwall.

“….”

However, for some reason, far from feeling happy, MacQuan found it difficult to utter a single word. He thought he was smiling, but the corners of his mouth were frozen stiff. His heart beat strangely and uncomfortably, and a feeling of nausea rose within him.

“I…”

Seeing him unable to continue, Aaron tilted his cheek. MacQuan’s rigid body followed helplessly where he led.

Smooth skin and long eyelashes touched him in succession. Soft lips brushed against him, lighter than a feather. A playful smile flickered in eyes that were always full of cynicism. It was a smile that made a man, long since an adult, look like a boy.

“It’s fascinating to see you jealous.”

“Don’t say things that are obvious.”

MacQuan frowned deeply and covered his eyes with his hand. His eyelids trembled with embarrassment, and he could no longer control his expression. He felt like a fool.

“I can stay until tomorrow afternoon.”

Biting the lobe of his ear, Aaron smiled mischievously.

“There is plenty of time.”

The dark green eyes, which had been wavering in confusion, slowly focused on the man.

“I don’t understand. I cannot accept this situation. I want to talk more properly.”

“Stop it.”

“Aaron, mmgh.”

Lips met and parted. Despite it being impossible, a sweet scent that paralyzed the senses vibrated through the air.

“Aaron, wait. My words…”

“You talk too much. Why are you so chatty?”

The attempt to stop the kiss was blocked again by soft lips.

“Wait, just a moment…”

With a look of annoyance, Aaron cupped MacQuan’s cheek and kissed him again. Once more, the lips parted easily, and hot tongues naturally entwined. He was filled with the desire to embrace the other man right then and there, but it could not be. Before the atmosphere could ripen, MacQuan carefully pushed Aaron away. He felt a sense of urgency that bordered on fear. There were words he absolutely had to hear from this man.

“I need an explanation. I want to talk with you.”

At the gesture of stubborn refusal, Aaron pulled away for a moment and laughed shortly. The sight of him trying to maintain politeness to the end, even while clearly uncomfortable, reminded him of someone who no longer existed.

“After we do it.”

“Aaron!”

That it was only for now. That only the time spent together in the present existed.

He had seen a woman who, like himself, had to shoulder a rotten relic—someone who shared the same fate yet struggled to break free from it. He had found that sight puzzling yet respectable. So, surely this much would be fine.

“I’ll answer whatever you ask then.”

Aaron shrugged one eyebrow and wrapped his arms around MacQuan’s neck. Seeking tenderness, he kissed him warmly several times. “Hmm?” The prompting voice was perfectly that of a lover.

“…I simply cannot win against you.”

After looking down with an ambiguous expression for a long while, MacQuan finally sighed deeply and lowered his head. The warm kisses did not end until much later, and after that, it was the turn for ecstasy to descend.

✧ ✧ ✧

Since the accident years ago that wiped out his memories, summer had been a time of pain for MacQuan. Whenever that season returned, he suffered from all kinds of nightmares and unpleasantness.

“As you know, the current postal delivery pricing system has many problems. First, in a system where the recipient pays the fee, if the letter is refused, that cost remains as a total loss.”

It was a reading of the Senate, attended as a representative for the Duke of Devonshire. Even as the presenter’s speech echoed through the hall, MacQuan’s interest was solely fixed on a man sitting in the crimson seats. To be more precise, his eyes were on the presenter, Viscount Berux, but his mind was with Earl Vispilt.

“…For that reason, I also agree with the remarkable invention proposed by Lord Larend Hill and a completely new transmission method, rather than the existing postal fee system. I will now explain to you one by one in what ways I agree with him. First, I must inform you of the paper published by Lord Larend Hill. If you look at page three…”

Aaron Wizfeldon, with a face showing absolutely no interest in Viscount Berux’s remarks, was talking with his brother, Caliven Wisfield. Following the gentle movement of the fingertips during the conversation, MacQuan swallowed a dry breath.

No matter how longingly he looked, the other man did not look back.

An unpleasant sensation burned quietly from the tips of his toes. This was the man who had shared love with him only this morning. He had stolen sweet lips countless times and opened a body tamed by MacQuan. He couldn’t even count how many kisses he had poured onto those long, slender legs and ankles. He knew that somewhere on that slender, long nape, the marks of sucking and biting throughout the night remained vivid.

‘I’m not in my right mind.’

Though his eyes, stained with desire and greed, were distorted, he could not easily divert his attention elsewhere.

He recognized that his state was akin to that of an opium addict and knew he needed to control himself, but it was not easy. When he came to his senses, he found himself writing letters begging for a meeting. Sometimes, he would suddenly bolt upright from bed, light the lamp, and pick up a pen.

The love letters intended to seduce the other became more explicit and desperate by the day. Of course, this was to perfectly deceive that suspicious man, but there were many times he felt estranged and frightened by the sight of himself writing long letters, leading him to burn the paper.

At that moment, the man talking to Caliven Wisfield lifted his head. Despite it being just that, his rusted heart thudded for a split second. As their eyes met, the sharp gaze curved slightly for a moment. At that faint smile, MacQuan’s lips twitched unconsciously.

“….”

When Aaron nodded as if confirming something, he shifted his gaze back to the speech. He had returned to a blank expression as if he had never smiled.

The brief encounter left a lingering regret that tickled MacQuan’s throat.

At some point, whenever their eyes met, the man would smile softly, just as he had a moment ago. It was only a very faint smile, so slight it felt as though it would vanish if touched.

Suddenly, a powerful urge surged from the depths of his heart. He wanted to grab the man and say something, anything. It was an impulse so violent that he feared what words might burst out. To divert these erratic thoughts, MacQuan lowered his head again and focused on the documents.

‘Has he changed a little?’

After being informed of the marriage talks with the Duke of Newcastle’s family, Aaron Wizfeldon had accepted most of the requests for secret meetings, even those that seemed excessive. Unless it was an appointment that absolutely could not be canceled, he always responded to the invitation, visiting Briston House day or night to spend dense nights together.

The man, who had always maintained a high wall and a somewhat detached attitude, began to express his emotions more clearly after that night.

‘Yes. He has changed considerably.’

The man who had looked down on everyone from the top of a spire now met his eyes more often and smiled more frequently. Though he wasn’t talkative, he answered questions sincerely, even if he was blunt.

Unlike the beginning, where most interactions were short conversations, they now spent a considerable amount of time sharing meaningful stories. MacQuan liked his characteristic cool yet refined way of speaking; after their acts were finished, he wouldn’t get up immediately, but would hold the sweat-soaked body close and continue questioning for a long time.

There were times when he continued the relationship so violently that the body was nearly broken, out of a feeling of unpleasantness that the man returned every night. Because of this, it became frequent for the sensitive man to stay the night at Briston House.

As the time they spent together grew longer, MacQuan shared more stories until dawn. No matter how many answers he received, his curiosity about the other was never satisfied. If one thing was revealed, he wondered about another. If another story was told, he wanted to hear more.

Even as the current of his unconsciousness rose to a dangerous level, MacQuan dismissed all these thoughts until the very end as phenomena resulting from his calculated behavior. Otherwise, there was no way to explain this strange emotion he felt for someone toward whom he had felt only hostility and regret until a few months ago—no, since the Worburn House incident years ago.

“That is all. I look forward to the wise and benevolent judgment of the members present here.”

Viscount Berux, having finished his remarks, took his seat, and Aaron Wizfeldon, whose turn it was to speak, prepared to ascend the podium. Caliven Wisfield followed behind him, taking care of documents and speeches, to the point where one might mistake him for a secretary. MacQuan sneered coldly at the fervent gaze the brother cast upon him.

‘No matter how much he admires him, he will never see the side that I know.’

Meanwhile, Earl Vispilt, Aaron Wizfeldon, who had ascended the podium, looked around the room with a calm face. The members and the gallery waited in silence for the upcoming remarks. His well-curved lips opened.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. Whenever I stand in this place, I cannot hide my nervousness. Perhaps it is because I made many mistakes in my youth, but I tend to be quite timid. It is quite laughable.”

With a face that showed no sign of tension, he nonchalantly spoke lies. Laughter erupted from various parts of the hall at the joke thrown by the young Earl. MacQuan’s throat moved sharply with a burning thirst.

Contrary to the prejudice that he was a foolish, stupid, opium-addicted wastrel, the more MacQuan engaged with him and got to know him, the more Aaron Wizfeldon exceeded expectations in many ways.

He read an enormous amount of books and newspapers, to the point of being a print addict, and he would read the parliamentary records organized by his secretary without hesitation, even with political opponents before him. His vocabulary was such that he could fluently speak several languages, including Latin, and his artistic insight was outstanding. MacQuan felt he understood why the Speaker of the Senate had not given up on his succession, even though he had been thoroughly ruined by opium.

“Talking about jokes…”

A vague emotion was contained in the low mutter.

MacQuan did not like the novice Earl smiling at the crowd. That smile should only be shown to a limited number of people. That leisurely and seemingly inclusive appearance was all a lie and a fabrication. He had to let the public know that fact. No, perhaps it would be better to hide him so perfectly that the world would not even know the existence of Aaron Wizfeldon, until even the smallest memory vanished.

“I believe many members here are troubled by the recent spread of the Oxford Movement. Unfortunately, I may make the heads of those present here even more complicated today.”

While his thoughts continued, the man had already finished his light jokes and was dealing with the main topic of his speech. The hall became solemn at the presenter’s serious attitude. The grip on the armrest tightened further.

“What I am about to discuss is the matter of financial support for Irish Catholic seminaries. This is one of the issues we must decide on by vote today, following last month’s House of Commons reading. It will be a long discussion. I intend to deliver a stronger opposition speech today than I have done previously.”

Facing those who were constantly looking for an opportunity to tear him apart, Aaron began his speech. His clear voice echoed through the hall.

‘So that no one…’

He saw the Duke of Cornwall sitting in the member’s seat, not far from the podium. The Duke was smiling with satisfaction, watching his successor shine from the highest point.

‘So that no one can see…’

MacQuan wanted to let the world know how arrogant and authoritative the man standing at the podium truly was. No. He wanted him to fall to the very bottom. He wanted to erase the man’s traces from this world.

So that no one could look up to him, and no one could give him their heart.

The steps walking through the lobby, where red silk curtains hung, were disciplined yet heavy. The expression of the person, standing straight and looking only forward, was solemn and unwavering.

The pieces were fitting together one by one.

For one grand goal, Aaron Wizfeldon had established a plan for a very long time, executing it thousands and tens of thousands of times in his head and recording various predictable variables. It had been a very long and tedious time.

Just before black, corrupt thoughts overflowed, a soft energy suddenly enveloped him. Aaron paused for a moment and turned his head toward the garden, which was thick with the scent of flowers.

“….”

A humid wind, carrying the essence of a season, brushed past his cheek. It was a wind that resembled a forest lost long ago. At the sensation of a single strand of faint longing being carried, Aaron recalled an emotion he had forcibly torn and burned, one to which he couldn’t even attach a name. However, the thought did not last long.

Click.

Before he even registered the sound of the door, a large hand shot through the half-open gap. Before he could ask who it was, a powerful force yanked him into the room.

“How dare you…”

Just as he was about to flare up at the rude behavior, a large palm cupped Aaron’s cheek. A shadow passed over his eyes, and immediately, the other man leaned down hurriedly to press their lips together.

“…Ah.”

A hot tongue pushed through his slightly parted lips, stirring roughly. It was a kiss filled with raw urgency and longing. As Aaron tilted his face slightly, thick, dark brown hair brushed against his forehead. A sharp bridge and the tip of a nose repeatedly touched and retreated.

Out of habit, Aaron wrapped his hand around the large one covering his cheek. He could feel the texture of the slightly protruding veins on the back of the hand through his skin.

“Mmm…”

A familiar scent stimulated his olfactory senses. A cool yet heavy fragrance. Aaron knew the owner of this scent well. His mind, clouded by intoxication, felt dizzy. Even as they kissed frantically, he blinked his blurred eyes several times. Looking up slightly from the sharp bridge of the nose, a pair of brightly shining eyes finally revealed themselves.

“Mmm. Stop…”

“Aaron, just a little more.”

A faint moan leaked out in the gaps between the thick, clinging kisses. Dim orange lighting softly illuminated the bedside. The red tongue delved in again, encountering another hidden heat. In between, MacQuan carelessly stroked Aaron’s cheekbones, cheeks, and the tip of his nose with his thumb. When Aaron frowned at the arrogant touch, MacQuan let out a low laugh without breaking the kiss.

“…Were you surprised?”

Only after a long while did their entwined bodies separate. Aaron, who was wiping his wet lips with a bewildered expression, had a slight tremble at the corners of his eyes.

“Don’t play tricks like this.”

Despite the cold, awkward tone, MacQuan smiled even more brightly and hugged Aaron tightly. Seeing him rub his forehead against his shoulder even while acting annoyed, a warm current settled in MacQuan’s gaze as he looked down.

“I understand, so please don’t make such a scary face.”

“…It would have been a big problem if anyone had seen us.”

It was a harsh response, but MacQuan replied unbothered.

“You think I wouldn’t have considered that?”

“Where are we?”

Aaron asked, looking around. In the small room of about thirty square yards, no furniture was visible other than an old chair and a cabinet.

“It is the waiting room for the servants who clean the hall.”

“How filthy.”

Aaron sighed, his face still twisted in a frown. His expression was clearly displeased by the added explanation.

“I am truly sorry for dragging you into a place like this.”

“…How long have you been here?”

Quite a bit of time had passed since the reading session ended, as Aaron had been talking with Calvin for a while. Since the seat where the man had been sitting was empty, he had assumed he had already left.

“I haven’t been waiting long. I waited after sending all my secretaries away once it seemed your conversation was roughly over. I also wanted to lie in ambush here and surprise you a little.”

The corners of MacQuan’s mouth curled up. The greenery reflected in his eyes shook vibrantly like leaves. Despite that, a refreshing atmosphere emanated from him.

“What would you have done if I hadn’t passed by here?”

“I would have sent you another letter by express post. And then I would have nagged the footman all day. Asking if there was a reply, telling him to send another letter, questioning if it had been delivered properly.”

He seemed poised to counter whatever was said, refusing to lose a single word. Eventually, a faint laugh escaped Aaron’s lips.

“I just wanted to see you, even for a moment.”

“….”

“How about you? Did you miss me?”

“…Don’t ask things like that.”

MacQuan leaned his upper body forward slightly to meet the other’s eyes. Emotions that could only move in a straight line shone heavily. Feeling a strange ache in his heart, Aaron avoided his gaze. Long, thick eyelashes fluttered with a sigh.

“If you don’t mind, would you come to Bristone tonight?”

His lips brushed closely against the earlobe. It was a blatant seduction. Aaron contemplated for a moment before shaking his head.

“I have plans this evening.”

This was a man who had hardly refused any of his requests recently. Unconsciously, MacQuan’s expression stiffened and turned serious.

“…You have frequent plans.”

His cool eyes distorted slightly. He felt an inexplicable sense of anxiety, but he dismissed it as light displeasure and gently stroked Aaron’s shoulder.

“Who are you meeting that makes you refuse a night together? Can’t you come even if it’s late? I will wait for you, no matter when it is.”

It was a cold plea devoid of sincerity. At least, that was how MacQuan perceived it. Aaron seemed to consider the lingering invitation for a moment longer, but he ultimately refused again.

“It’s expected to end late. I must return to Pellington Hall.”

“I see.”

Even while acting calm, his insides were boiling violently. With a hardened face, MacQuan gripped Aaron’s shoulder more firmly. The anxiety that had existed only unconsciously for days suddenly burst out of his mouth.

“Just how late is it that you say that?”

“I don’t know either—”

“Who are you going to meet?”

Before the sentence could even finish, MacQuan followed up with a sharp question. Recently, his patience had diminished and become trivial beyond necessity.

“Where are you going that makes you hedge your words like that? Are you perhaps meeting the Lady of Newcastle?”

His voice betrayed an unfiltered sense of disappointment.

“What?”

At the unexpected reaction, Aaron didn’t even think to make an excuse and simply blinked. Interpreting the silence as an affirmation, MacQuan showed his displeasure and ruffled his hair. An air of urgency was evident on his handsome face. His neatly combed dark brown hair naturally fell over his forehead.

“Seeing how flustered you are, it must be true. What is there to talk about? Didn’t you say you’d maintain the engagement as much as possible? Ah, is it perhaps because of the wedding preparations?”

“…What on earth are you talking about?”

“The circumstances suggest as much!”

As he spoke longer, his body grew rigid. Seeing Aaron looking at him blankly, MacQuan felt a surge of rage. It was an unfamiliar anger he had never experienced before.

“Say something. Give me a proper explanation. I feel like a fool talking to myself while you remain unfazed. I need an explanation. Where you are going today, who you are meeting…”

“Wait.”

“Aaron, I—”

“I was just thinking about how to answer because this is so absurd.”

At the blatant jealousy displayed by the other, Aaron stroked his cheek with a bewildered expression. He hesitated for a long time as if searching for words before continuing.

“I have a club meeting with members of the Conservative House of Lords. They are talkative people, and it always ends late, so I just thought it would be too late to visit Bristone.”

It was a clean explanation that left no room for argument.

“Ha.”

MacQuan couldn’t hide his emptiness and covered his eyes. He was embarrassed by how excessively agitated he had been until a moment ago. His fingertips, brushing his eyebrows and the space between them, were filled with awkwardness.

“…What is that? If it was something like that, you could have just said so. You looked like you were hiding something, so of course I had strange thoughts.”

“Haha.”

As the unfamiliar reaction continued, Aaron finally laughed. It wasn’t the faint smile the man had shown until now. It was a wide, blooming laugh that reached the corners of his eyes—so unfamiliar that MacQuan paused his breath and focused all his attention on the man standing before him.

“…Am I funny to you?”

A voice that didn’t sound like his own flowed out. It was a stiff, rough, and completely frozen voice, like that of an idiot.

“A little.”

Finding it fascinating how the sharp impression momentarily softened, MacQuan unconsciously hugged Aaron again, even though his anger hadn’t fully subsided. Then, he leaned in to listen to the faint laughter that continued.

It was a sight he had never seen. It was a laugh he hadn’t even expected to see. The body in his arms shook repeatedly with laughter. What could be so amusing? His heart felt strangely tight.

“Stop laughing. I’m in the middle of being angry, and it’s embarrassing when you laugh like that.”

“You’re strange.”

“…What do you mean?”

A grumpy voice popped out without time to be fashioned. At the childlike appearance and reaction, the laughter grew deeper.

“Truly, you…”

The voice trailed off.

“I…”

Aaron leaned his body completely against MacQuan’s chest and slowly stroked his broad back. The intense pressure caused his sensitive face to soften instantly.

Cool air that had seeped through a gap somewhere wove through their hair.

The sound of the wind could be heard.

Being like this created an illusion that he had truly returned to the past. A space where no one else existed, only the two of them. In that space, the dog followed only him as its master.

Hurry. Prompting an answer, MacQuan rubbed his forehead with the straight bridge of his nose. Aaron hesitated a bit more before slowly opening his mouth.

“Because it feels like you have feelings for me.”

It was an unexpected statement.

For a moment, MacQuan, unable to respond, froze in the position he was holding Aaron.

“….”

The expression that was always relaxed and composed collapsed in an instant. His mind went blank, and not even a single flattering word came easily. The heart rate that had been beating slowly, intoxicated by peace, suddenly spiked.

In the continuing silence, the hand wrapping MacQuan’s back moved cautiously.

“Baronet?”

“…Ah.”

A stupid sound escaped. MacQuan hurriedly released his arms from around Aaron. His frozen eyes curved awkwardly.

“…Because you’re saying strange things. I don’t know what to say…”

MacQuan quickly covered his face with his hand, pretending to brush back his hair. His eyes shook frantically with confusion, and a bewildered emotion leaked through his tone.

“Because you’re saying something so obvious…”

It was a clumsy answer, almost pitiful. Even though he knew, no other expression came to mind, and MacQuan had to stutter several more times.

“That I…”

At the unexpected attack, a heavy stone seemed to press down on a corner of his heart. To hide his panicked expression, MacQuan wiped the area around his mouth and eyes several times.

“…Haven’t I told you I love you many times?”

His voice, pretending to be angry, was suppressed. His heart, reciting a lie, thundered loudly.

It was awkward, so awkward. He felt as if he had become a novice.

“You did,” Aaron replied with a smirk. There was no sign that he trusted the words from a moment ago. That fact made MacQuan even more anxious.

“…I love you.”

To soften the other’s stiff expression, MacQuan did his best to utter empty words of love. After a long silence, Aaron slowly nodded, answering that he knew. A white earlobe was visible in his field of vision, along with the bright blonde hair lightly covering it and the pointed lobe.

“My heart is directed entirely toward you.”

It was a lie he repeated constantly, but today, every single word sounded exceptionally awkward. Suppressing his irritation, MacQuan uttered sweet whispers once more.

“I love you.”

“….”

“Aaron, I love you.”

Aaron Wizfeldon was a man sharper and more intelligent than he seemed. He was not someone who would be fooled by clumsy deception. Even if his heart were directed toward him, he was someone who would turn away at any time if necessary.

‘I must make him believe me. Absolutely.’

…To trip up the Duke of Cornwall, he still needed Aaron Wizfeldon. He needed to bind the heart of this sensitive and ferocious man, at least until the bill passed. For the moment it was most needed. To decorate the most brilliant finale.

Amidst the whirlwind of thoughts, MacQuan bit his lip until it nearly bled.

“If you still don’t believe me…”

“I believe you.”

“….”

He was speechless again. Aaron gazed steadily at MacQuan’s completely flustered and broken face. Despite the dim lighting of the room, his gaze was clear. MacQuan, who had been trying to continue speaking, eventually chose silence. No thoughts came to him, and no words emerged.

“….”

“….”

Unlike the confused MacQuan, Aaron’s gaze as he looked at him was calm and serene. Nowhere in that look was there any sign of the man who had laughed, unable to regain his senses while intoxicated by opium. A hand, slightly cooler than an average person’s, wrapped around the back of MacQuan’s hand.

“I believe you.”

The voice, sounding like a vow, lingered around the ear. Immediately, soft, supple lips touched. Though it was impossible, he had the illusion of smelling a fragrance.

I believe you.

The words “I believe you” became a sharp spear, cruelly gouging the conscience of someone murdered long ago. Even if the expression of the person who said it was calmer than a lake.

That was why MacQueen Lester could not ask Aaron Wizfeldon today.

Theodore.

Who that man was.

✧ ✧ ✧

The debate, which had begun in the afternoon, continued until the townhouse streets grew dark. As the members, having reached their physical limits, stood up one by one, the Brooks Club meeting, which had lasted nearly half a day, was coming to an end.

“I shall see you again next week.”

“If you don’t mind, I will arrange a meal before then.”

“You are welcome anytime.”

“I will send a letter separately through a servant.”

Amidst the crowd exchanging farewells, Aaron shook hands with key figures and moved toward the stairs. Beyond the main entrance, it was noisy with the neighing of horses waiting for their owners.

Creek, creak.

The old stairs groaned. Bright hair, illuminated by the candlelight fixed to the wall, swayed with the movement of climbing the stairs. His grip on the railing tightened.

“….”

Following the flickering light, red shadows repeatedly appeared and disappeared over his neat face. Aaron stopped for a moment, pressing his temples and catching his breath. His physical stamina had declined significantly recently. As he reached the top of the stairs, the person guarding the hallway greeted the young member of parliament who would soon command the House of Lords.

“He is already waiting for you.”

Miller Waison’s personal secretary turned the doorknob.

Screee—

The old wooden door opened. Even then, the sound of conversation echoing from below the railing was loud enough to cause a headache.

“Earl, you’ve arrived.”

At the presence of someone entering the room, the men who had been talking hurriedly stood up.

“I am a bit late.”

Aaron shook hands briefly and immediately took a seat.

“Since we have no time, it would be best to proceed quickly. In truth, it is difficult for us gathering separately like this to be viewed favorably.”

At the pointed joke, the three men, including Miller Waison, laughed lightly and sat back down.

“I will keep my business brief. I shall send detailed letters separately through secretaries. However, since there is a matter that must be shared beforehand, I made a bold request to Earl Spencer to arrange this meeting.”

The cluttered atmosphere was quickly organized. Aaron clasped his hands and looked at those seated around him one by one.

Earl Spencer Miller Waison, Reckus Bertram, the representative and heir of the Viscountcy of Winhampshire, and Earl of Glorance William Gerard. Including Viscount Hampshire and Marquess Tones, who did not attend today’s meeting. They were figures categorized as centrists due to their strong liberal tendencies within the Conservative Party, which succeeded the Tory Party.

“As you know, a person who once shared deep ties with us has entered Westminster.”

Aaron leaned his chin on his interlaced hands, his eyes curving slightly. It was a smile flowing with coldness. Once one person opened the floodgates, the remaining people simultaneously agreed.

“That is true.”

“Honestly, it is uncomfortable. I expected he would hold a position someday, but…”

“Is it just one position? Now he places the members of the House of Lords, beyond the House of Commons, in the palm of his hand. Not a few are being played.”

“I feel uncomfortable just crossing paths with him. I never know when or where he might start threatening. He is like a snake. By the time I realized it, I was completely played.”

Silence fell instantly at the words of the indignant man. Awkwardness, discomfort, anxiety. Aaron watched with interest as they tried to sound superior while unable to hide their fear.

Under the lamp light, their hidden true selves began to emerge one by one. Gaunt bodies, eyes devoid of vitality, generally dark complexions, and noticeably anxious attitudes. A smoky, disgusting smell mixed with their body odor.

There was one more commonality among them.

They had once been the core of the most decadent social circles in London, were severe opium addicts, and were individuals with whom MacQueen Lester had maintained close relationships to entice them into the Whig Party during his time as the representative of Klaus Diugen. They were people who had traded pleasure for honor.

“It seems we have become ill-fated,” Miller Waison added.

Ill-fated.

It was a perfect expression, so much so that no alternative words came to mind.

“No matter how bold his recent movements have been, the bill regarding the dispatch of troops cannot even pass the first reading in the House of Commons. The same goes for his remarks about strengthening national power, let alone direct deployment. Even if it barely clears the Commons, there are numerous cases where it remains stalled in the House of Lords for months or is discarded after failing to secure a vote during the reading.”

Earl Glorance added.

“The Earl is correct. In fact, among the bills proposed by Baronet Enfield over the past few years, the success rate for legislation specifically related to troop dispatch or military intervention has not been very high.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed noticeably. Aaron clicked his tongue briefly and continued.

“Within the Whig Party, Baronet Enfield and the Duke of Devonshire are staking everything on the proposal of that bill. The financial gains tied to the opium trade are beyond imagination. Fortunately, Her Majesty the Queen maintains a cautious stance specifically regarding the issue of troop dispatch. In this situation, what they need most is not the vote of those agonizing between value and efficiency, is it?”

Uncrossing his hands, Aaron smiled with his eyes. The expressions of the men stiffened visibly as they realized the topic of conversation pertained to them.

“Of course, I am aware that there are members within the Tories who have taken a centrist position. However, I know well that this is for the sake of securing tax revenue, not for the pursuit of private gain. They are different from the Duke of Devonshire’s crowd.”

The sound of mental calculations regarding profit and loss flickered rapidly across the table.

“Since every single vote is precious, I believe it is unnecessary to mention that he is constantly contacting our Conservative members in an attempt to buy votes.”

Aaron paused for a moment, reached into his coat, and put a leaf-cut tobacco cigarette in his mouth. It lit immediately, and a long trail of hazy smoke rose.

“From what I’ve gathered separately, I heard that Baronet Enfield is working on something else in case the persuasion does not go as planned. I don’t know if you can guess what it is, but…”

Everyone held their breath as he trailed off. Even without stating it explicitly, it was a nonsense that everyone present knew.

“The members’ pasts.”

“Earl, what is the meaning of this?”

Earl Glorance, visibly agitated, sprang to his feet. He had been one of the most precious lobbying targets MacQueen Lester had painstakingly cultivated in the past.

“In simple terms, it’s for blackmail.”

“The Baronet is not free from the opium issue either. He distributed large quantities of opium to domestic nobles to use them for political persuasion.”

Aaron clicked his tongue again at the pathetic sight of a man listing his own shortcomings, then inhaled the leaf-cut tobacco once more.

“Of course.”

With the pipe still in his mouth, Aaron filled his glass.

“That man rose to this position through opium smuggling in the first place. Since entering Parliament, he has been publicly criticized for that part. In other words, adding one more flaw related to opium in the current situation would not have a significant impact. The intensity and level of the fallout are different compared to when a new flaw is attached to those who have no related scandals.”

The liquor swayed following the gentle tapping of his finger on the glass. For a fleeting moment, the eyes watching him took on complex colors.

“This does not only apply to the members here. Everyone I have arranged to meet personally through Earl Spencer is included in the list managed separately by Klaus Diugen. Of course, I am included on that list as well.”

“How could…”

Small groans of dismay erupted from here and there.

“Baronet Enfield primarily approached the great nobles of England, specifically centrist Tory members or heirs of related families. Is that all? He actively supplied opium while arranging decadent gatherings. Of course, we cannot be proud either, as we willingly accepted the pleasures he provided. Moreover, you members have yet to escape the shackles of opium, have you not? You would make wonderful prey.”

“Th-that… Of course, I haven’t been able to quit completely… but it has no effect on my daily life. There is no risk of being entangled in the vulgar accusations he concocts.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

The discomfort was fully revealed on the faces of those around the table. The anxiety that the deviations of a bold youth had become a past that gripped their bright future; the unpleasantness that this past had become the present and was now an immediate threat. And yet, the self-loathing for being unable to quit opium.

“Currently, the perspective and atmosphere regarding opium are changing far more rapidly than back then. In a bad direction, of course. There is nothing to be gained from wearing the label of an incompetent addict.”

As the negative current flowed blatantly, Aaron smiled nonchalantly and leaned his back completely against the chair.

“Although he is already notorious as an opium smuggler, the reason he is still able to hold a seat in Parliament is that Klaus Diugen, his backer, has conducted trades strictly targeting colonies or other continents. However, in reality, he used opium freely for lobbying domestic citizens like us. Behind him was the Duke of Devonshire, who gave strength to Baronet Enfield. If it were just the Baronet, it would end with him being a mere opium merchant, but if the Duke of Devonshire is entwined, the level of condemnation will be different.”

“How could you make that known? You would be completely turning against the Duke of Devonshire. Lenzdoor will not stay quiet.”

When William Gerard questioned him, Aaron responded with an utterly delighted face.

“We must launch a preemptive strike. First, we must reveal how MacQueen Lester lobbied Westminster for the profit of the opium merchant group and tried to tame centrist nobles with opium to secure votes. The process of exposing the Duke of Devonshire to the surface comes after that.”

“When you say ‘reveal,’ what kind of disclosure are you talking about?”

“Anything is fine. Correspondence exchanged with MacQueen or his partners… or Klaus’s associates, testimony from servants who ran errands, ledgers recording the traded opium would be excellent, or written evidence or witnesses that can prove the route through which they were received…”

His fluid pronunciation stretched out. His eyes, lost in thought, curved softly as if dreaming.

“…And various other things.”

The sound of dry swallowing echoed from various directions. Miller Waison pressed his hand to his forehead with a somewhat distressed expression.

“Isn’t that too dangerous? It would be an act of revealing that we ourselves fell into opium. Even when Earl Vispilt was admitted to the St. Louis ward, many newspapers mentioned the evils of opium rampant in social gatherings, but they did not report by specifying the attendees. I believe that digging into the past now and searching for evidence is no different from jumping into a battlefield.”

Aaron silently acknowledged the immediate rebuttal. He briefly stroked the tip of his sharp chin. After a short silence, his lips opened.

“It is a matter of who goes first. Who breaks the news first from a favorable perspective regarding the same event.”

His narrowed eyes glinted faintly. His lean cheeks sank in as he drew deeply on the filter.

“In any case, Baronet Enfield also possesses plenty of material to attack us. Earl Spencer, you surely don’t believe that he left no evidence while connecting so much opium and courtesans to the many club gatherings you hosted.”

Glancing at the Earl, Aaron continued.

“I believe he is currently just gauging the timing of the exposure. When to release that past to the world. I have received information that he is looking for a newspaper that he can adjust to his taste. It is only a matter of time; eventually, it will explode.”

“How could he do such a despicable thing!”

“If it’s a newspaper, it will spread in an instant.”

“I cannot believe this…”

Gasping exclamations of horror erupted across the table. Anxiety and fear pulled the air in the room taut.

“I heard he is already investing heavily in several newspapers, including the Guardian. It won’t take long for articles that fit their designed intention to appear.”

“That could be true… Is he not the man who does all the dirty work that the Duke of Devonshire cannot? Truly a cowardly plot.”

Baron Bertram chimed in.

“Just thinking about it is terrible. He will surely paint us as addicts fallen for sex and opium.”

Following that, the heir of Wynumpshire let out a hysteric sigh. From the moment their past shames met the eyes of the present, it was the problem everyone here had been thinking about.

“This is not something that will end with a single vote. In the future, whenever the members express an opinion against Baronet Enfield’s wishes regarding a bill, he will tighten the noose. You will be nothing more and nothing less than thorough puppets. Before that, there is a need to cut the string and carve out that poison.”

MacQueen Lester was no longer the merchant they had used for their convenience in the past. Now, the man was one of the powerful politicians active in Westminster, guaranteed by the trust of the Whig Party leader and the Queen.

It was around the time the depressed atmosphere persisted.

“I would like to make a proposal to the members.”

All attention in the room turned to one spot.

“I want you to hand over all evidence of the wicked transactions to me. I intend to release them to the world through a newspaper that will strictly serve us, where no one’s influence or power can reach.”

“Isn’t that too dangerous an idea? If there is a backlash, the blow will be severe. Our position in the House of Lords could be shaken.”

Aaron glanced at Earl Glorance, who was weakly protesting, and shrugged his shoulders.

“I know what you are worried about. If it were for the sake of pleasure, it would naturally be pointed at. But what if it were used for treatment due to health problems? Just as I did.”

“Treatment?”

“Opium is actually widely used as a painkiller. It may sound ridiculous, but my start with opium was also for the treatment of headaches.”

“That makes sense.”

The man who had been half-risen naturally sat back down. He seemed somewhat relieved.

“The members simply needed opium for treatment, and Baronet Enfield exploited that to supply more than the appropriate amount. A vicious merchant who once even threatened the lives of the members. It’s a fine picture.”

A twisted smile was drawn on his bloodless face.

“I think it’s not a bad idea. Since we only used it because we had to for treatment.”

The representative of Wynumpshire agreed. Aaron took another long draw from the pipe filter.

“I will prepare the members’ medical records through the physician who was in charge of me at St. Louis.”

“I hope the diagnoses are varied,” Earl Spencer chuckled.

“Of course.” Aaron’s expression in response looked almost mischievous.

“I know you are anxious about the disclosure of the transaction ledgers. The personal safety of the Lords will be perfectly protected, and after the incident is resolved, all evidence will be destroyed in our presence. Of course, the involved parties will also be dealt with. I will take responsibility for that, so do not worry. If, by any chance, a risk of exposure arises…”

Aaron continued, lightly flicking ash onto a flat plate.

“I will cover that fire with myself and my family.”

And he added with a low laugh.

“Cornwall will also take the lead in dragging the Duke of Devonshire above the surface.”

“How…”

“Earl, would that be possible?”

“Of course, trust in words alone is meaningless. Every promise I make will go through a legal notarization process. The transactions that occurred between the Lords and Baronet Enfield will only serve as a trigger; after that, I intend to draw public opinion by focusing on the acts of private gain he pursued in collusion with Klaus after entering the House of Commons. If we track the flow of assets held by Baronet Enfield, Devonshire will naturally follow.”

Aaron looked around at the faces directed toward him once more.

“Of course, we cannot reveal all the cards from the beginning. First, only the existence of the Duke of Devonshire, and after that, the rotten interior that the Devonshire family hid will be revealed to the world without exception.”

No expression could be found on the face of the one whispering the sinister plot. A calm current flowed. After watching for a while, Miller Waison spoke.

“Lord Wizfeldon, then isn’t too much risk concentrated on the House of Cornwall? Since the conditions are unilaterally unfavorable to the Earl, I doubt if it is a feasible proposal.”

“Of course, there are conditions.”

More strength entered his clenched hands. His gaze shone sharply.

“In exchange for my family taking the risk and leading this effort, the members must follow the Conservative Party line no matter what when the troop dispatch bill is proposed. You must not maintain a neutral attitude with a lukewarm temperature as you do now. Also, persuade the members of the House of Commons who, like you, are taking a centrist position on the dispatch. Please let me know if there are those who are difficult to persuade.”

“It will be difficult to bring all the votes of the centrist members.”

“I know. However, because this war must absolutely not happen, I intend to stop the dispatch bill at all costs.”

Aaron stood up, recalling the smile of someone who was not present.

The clumsiness of plucking and drying herbs, and even taking a slap to the face to create an unsightly cover just to solve their insomnia.

Those steadfast hands.

In the end, were they not hands filled with greed to make someone an opium addict, and hands that led humans to ruin?

“Thus, the honor of having stopped the war and protected the people of England will first shine upon the House of Cornwall. If that happens, the landscape of power will shift from Devonshire to Cornwall, and from the Whigs to the Tories. Considering that, it is worth taking this level of risk.”

“You are correct.”

As Earl Spencer agreed, the voices on the table gathered and buzzed once more.

“I say it again, we are the victims. Not accomplices, but victims. Based on all the materials handed over to me, the Lords will become brave knights who overcame the temptation of wicked evil and made a confession of conscience. There is nothing that cannot be achieved with money and power. Wouldn’t it be interesting to become thorough victims for once this time?”

“Please give me some time to think, Earl.”

“Of course.”

At the meeting, the calculation of profit and loss for each person spun rapidly. After a long while, the moment the scattered desires unified into one, a bright smile bloomed on the cold faces.

It was the prelude to a scandal that would heat up all of London for the next few years.

✧ ✧ ✧

As time passed, the hands flipping through the documents became more urgent. The figures and data densely recorded on the white paper were showing value beyond expectations.

“This is truly…”

A sigh erupted, ambiguous as to whether it was joy or sorrow. The results delivered from Nottinghamshire were positively groundbreaking.

“The existence of double bookkeeping is certain. Not only the accounting, but there are one or two suspicious points in the process of transferring major shareholders.”

MacQuan agreed with the cold report and sneered.

“The loans are enormous too. The financial structure and accounting treatment are a mess. That man, Edmund, was more foolish than I imagined. It’s a miracle he hasn’t gone bankrupt yet. To think such a person is a Duke representing a nation.”

The smile deepened.

The materials acquired through various channels pointed to one conclusion.

The accounting problems occurring at the Rodinton Company were not for the purpose of tax evasion, but rather for the sake of inflating performance for show; however, the latter was not without problems. Distorting the ledgers was an immoral act that caused immense damage to minority shareholders or investors who did not receive proper information.

It was obvious who the final decision-maker who ordered such a foolish act was. The one who had concocted a facade solely to make his achievements known and dedicate them to the state.

“There’s no need to even make a plan… this is at a level where it will self-destruct on its own even if left alone.”

It was an excessively trivial game. Rather, it was surprising that such a disastrous financial state could be hidden until now. MacQuan set down the documents he was reading haphazardly and leaned back long in his chair.

“In a way, it’s a choice befitting the Duke of Cornwall.”

“One slightly strange point is that this manipulation does not seem to be intended to fill the Duke’s personal greed. There are no instances of Rodinton workers’ wages being delayed, and all the profits generated by the ledger manipulation are donated to the Royal Family…”

“Aljef.”

MacQuan called his reliable secretary who had assisted him for several years. His tone was gentle, but his eyes were cold.

“Yes.”

“Think back to our past. Even when we started things with the best of intentions, not once was the value of our efforts recognized when the results turned out poorly.”

Even after achieving success, MacQuan did not turn his back on those who had been with him during his lowest moments or his filthiest, darkest days. This was because he knew that those who had climbed from the bottom exhibited a more blind loyalty.

“The world judges by results rather than intentions or processes. What one was thinking doesn’t matter. Everything must be viewed through the lens of the outcome.”

The fingertips brushing across his lips moved softly.

“Aljef. A shareholder company authorized by the Royal Family handled their accounting through double-entry bookkeeping. Regardless of the intent, they deceived the Royal Family regarding all financial matters and filed false reports. It is an act that causes loss to the investors. Of course, the fact that most of the investment funds were provided by the Wizfeldon family is irrelevant. The fact that he performed such a pathetic act—covering the losses with his own money and even paying taxes—is also unimportant.”

No one would… yes. No one would care.

His voice trailed off slowly.

“Then how do you intend to handle this? We have sufficient materials and are ready to leak them to the press at any time. Though, a bit more supplementation may be needed. If the goal is simply to expose the Duke of Cornwall’s incompetence, the materials gathered so far are enough. Even if there is no blow to his morality, we can reveal his ineptitude.”

“…Not yet.”

Contrary to the expectation that he would give the order immediately, the employer merely stared at the lamp light in silence for a while, unable to continue. A vermilion flame burned faintly inside the transparent glass shield.

“Would you like to push the timing back further?”

“….”

MacQuan glanced sideways at an envelope buried beneath a pile of documents. The letter he had been agonizing over until a moment ago was tightly sealed with red wax, as if it were a secret missive hiding a great mystery.

“I’ll think about it a bit more. It will be best used as a bargaining chip when it is most needed. I’ve also commissioned an investigation into Caliven Wisfield’s movements. For now, since that man is acting as the representative of Rodinton, there is a loophole for the Duke of Cornwall to escape through… It would be best to trigger it just before the bill is proposed. So that no power remains in the words that ghost sputters.”

There was still something unsettling. Even if he was pouring in his private fortune, the amount of tax Rodinton paid annually to the English Royal Family was enormous. It wasn’t a figure that could be achieved through simple bookkeeping manipulation.

If operations continued like this, the remaining lifespan was two or three years at most.

“I wonder why he insisted on making the second son, Caliven Wisfield, the majority shareholder. It is too dangerous a position to place a child in.”

“Isn’t that a fact everyone in London knows? He is a man who intends to protect only his eldest son until the end.”

It was a well-known fact that the Duke of Cornwall neglected his second son. Suddenly, a certain face came to mind. Someone who possessed overflowing wealth, honor, and power from birth. Someone whose entire existence consisted of standing at the peak and looking down at the mud beneath his boots.

“Even if the situation spirals to the worst, that father and son will survive.”

“As you say, they may be condemned morally… but at this rate, there is a possibility that all responsibility will be pinned on Caliven Wisfield.”

“I should attach a few more people first. If we intervene clumsily, it might look as though we are saving Caliven Wisfield instead. For now, deliver the findings from today’s investigation to the Duke of Devonshire as they are.”

“Shall I send everything?”

After a moment of deliberation, MacQuan nodded.

“Yes. It is something that must be shared with the Duke as well. Cornwall is not a size I can handle alone. In any case, these materials alone cannot shake Cornwall’s roots. We must throw all the stones we’ve gathered one by one, all at once. Would a fortress built solidly over hundreds of years collapse from a single kick?”

A sneer lingered on his cold lips. Long fingers pushed the letter back between the books. He felt a flicker of pity for the second son, who would be sacrificed for the hollow honor of a politician mad with loyalty, but his compassion ended there.

A good card.

The conditions for the legislative deal were being completed one by one.

Rodinton’s hidden double-books and tax evasion, Aaron Wizfeldon’s addiction issues stretching from the past to the present, and even his secret sexual preferences.

“Trust me.”

At that moment, the fingertips touching the envelope flinched. A warm breath brushed past his ear once more. The sound of a low laugh and the sensation of a back being carefully embraced followed in memory. The reaction shown by the one who always guarded himself like a wounded wild animal was so unfamiliar.

And yet, so familiar.

‘What use is any of that?’

His eyes, lost in thought, distorted.

In the end, he was a man the Duke of Cornwall sought to shield within his own nest. Had he not used power to block past scandals and even create a glamorous debut in Westminster?

Indeed.

Firm fingertips pulled the letter envelope back out. After a brief hesitation, MacQuan handed the letter to Aljef. It was a love letter specifying a date to meet.

“Send this letter to Pellington Hall. Be exceptionally careful with security.”

“To Earl Vispilt, sir?”

Instead of speaking, MacQuan leaned his body back diagonally. It was a silent affirmation.

“Your correspondence has been frequent lately.”

At the tone laced with concern, MacQuan laughed aloud.

“There is nothing to worry about.”

He knew what Aljef was concerned about. The wise Scottish secretary, while perhaps unaware of the physical relationship between the two, knew at least that MacQuan was intentionally approaching Earl Vispilt to maintain a friendship.

“Even if we argue in front of others, we must build a close relationship behind the scenes. Didn’t I tell you back in Klaus’s time? To make a deal favorable to me, I must absolutely give the other party trust.”

“I trust you.”

Suddenly, words the man had once whispered casually flashed through his mind. Those words, delivered with a calm expression, had recurred with excessive frequency since that day. A feeling of tightness gripped his chest, bringing on a wave of nausea, but MacQuan strove to appear composed as he stroked his cheek. In any sense, it was not a good sign for him.

“It’s about making someone trust me over a long period of time. That way, even if something happens, they won’t be able to respond properly. The power of trust is that terrifying.”

“…My thinking was short-sighted. Since we are investigating the Cornwall family’s corruption, I was worried that Earl Vispilt might notice as the exchange continued. I will send the letter through a servant today and confirm its delivery.”

“Yes. I leave it to you.”

MacQuan turned toward the window. Contrary to his composed answer, his face was full of displeasure. MacQuan found his own state—feeling uncomfortable at the secretary’s words despite them being perfectly natural advice—to be strange.

Knock, knock.

At that moment, a short knock broke the silence.

“Come in.”

Upon permission, a footman entered.

“I have brought the painkiller and tea.”

“On the table.”

The servant skillfully began setting a small ceramic bowl containing pills and tea with a unique fragrance on the tea table. Aljef’s gaze, observing his master, was clouded with worry.

“The doctor said you must drink the tea while it is hot. He mentioned it is very effective for insomnia and headaches, so you must not leave any behind.”

At the string of explanations, MacQuan finally shifted his position slightly.

“What kind of tea is it?”

“It is a type of herb; President Robert procured it before he left for Guangzhou. Although the storage of the leaves and the brewing process are somewhat cumbersome, the fragrance is pleasant, so it should be suitable for you.”

After the footman was dismissed, Aljef answered in his stead.

“…Is there enough quantity?”

“There is enough to drink for the time being.”

As the answers followed in order, MacQuan’s expression became ambiguous. He pondered for a moment with his arms crossed and then immediately gave an order.

“Aljef.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell Shuman not to brew the remaining tea, but to pack it all up separately.”

“Pack it?”

At the unexpected instruction, Aljef asked back with bewildered eyes. The man who gave the order pulled back the curtains with a face that suggested there was no problem at all.

“What do you intend to do with the remainder…”

“…He needs it.”

Silence swallowed the time. Chewing over the instruction, Aljef asked again, unable to maintain his composure.

“Do you mean Earl Vispilt?”

For a moment, an awkward current flowed. The fingertips stroking his chin moved leisurely. Though he acted relaxed, the eyes staring at a certain point were dark and vague.

“A gift given with heart can sometimes melt one’s guard in unexpected ways. Purchase a bit more of the same product from the shop in Rochester. Most of the teas Robert sends for tasting go to that man’s shop. If you add that it is an item to be sent to someone necessary for an important matter, they will prepare it accordingly. Make sure to pack plenty of tea leaves so he can sleep more comfortably. He is a man with very severe insomnia.”

A man necessary for an important matter.

And a special method.

These were words used in countless instructions Aljef had received while assisting his employer for a long time, and they explained all doubts.

Only then could Aljef finally feel relieved. His master was still a man who did not hesitate to make cruel choices to achieve his desires, and he had never strayed from that path.

“I will prepare it immediately.”

“As quickly as possible.”

“Understood. I shall take my leave now.”

After a brief greeting, the man immediately left the room.

As the door closed, silence returned. Cold moonlight faintly illuminated the interior of the drawing room. Once he confirmed no one else was in the room, MacQuan finally let out a deep breath he had been holding. His face, released from tension, quickly crumbled.

“…It’s still not enough.”

The murmuring tone was full of anxiety. Yes, information was still lacking. Through what channel the Duke of Cornwall influenced the tax evasion committed by Caliven Wisfield as the majority shareholder and manager of Rodinton, through what route the shareholder transition occurred, and whether there was evidence that the final decision-maker who manipulated the accounts was directly involved in Rodinton’s irregularities.

Yes, if only he could find out that part.

Until then, it wouldn’t matter if he maintained this relationship.

“….”

Memories laced with excuses and rationalizations drifted toward a slightly more distant past.

No matter how roughly they engaged, that man could not easily fall asleep. Sometimes he would mutter in his sleep, drenched in cold sweat from nightmares all night, or complain of lethargy and headaches all day. Once a seizure occurred, the muscles in his entire body would stiffen, and it took quite a long time to calm down. During their encounters, Aaron Wizfeldon exhibited so many symptoms that it made one wonder how a single person’s body could be in such a wreck.

Of course, he didn’t lack knowledge of the reason for those symptoms.

It was the side effect of opium.

Since he was someone who had undergone hospitalization that was nearly equivalent to confinement for several years due to addiction symptoms, it was hard to explain it by any other reason. Even if time had passed, the harm caused by opium would not have vanished completely. It was nearly impossible to fully cure the symptoms of opium addiction when it had been used beyond a mere painkiller.

Insomnia, headaches, hallucinations, nausea, vomiting, tinnitus, and numerous other problems.

As the symptoms he had witnessed surfaced one by one, the shadows on his face deepened. MacQuan turned his gaze back to the table where the tea and headache medicine sat. The expression forged by ambition wavered once more.

Opium.

It was the most effective and vicious contract a boy who had fallen into poverty had seized to escape from the bottom.

✧ ✧ ✧

“I’m sad.”

At the words containing genuine sorrow, the Duke of Devonshire shook his head with a benevolent smile.

“It is difficult for me to leave my post any longer. The situation is not good, and I cannot handle things here through paperwork alone.”

Recalling her father, who had worked through the nights by her side for several days, Elisha murmured in a discouraged tone.

“Since Father isn’t there, he must be struggling a lot on his own, right?”

“I suppose so. He is doing double the work, including my share, so he probably isn’t even sleeping properly.”

Recalling the letters arriving from London every day, Devonshire’s expression flashed with malice. It was now time to dispose of the pitiful political rival who had fallen into a tedious trap after long patience.

“I’m sorry for acting like a child. Actually, I know you’ve been pushing yourself to stay in Wales until now. When do you plan to return?”

“I’ll have to check the schedule, but not much time remains.”

The Duke of Devonshire wrapped his hand over his bony knuckles and let out a sigh tinged with grief.

“Wait just a little longer. I shall throw the most magnificent banquet in London. So splendid that everyone will envy you.”

“Thank you…”

A hollow smile appeared on her pallid lips at the fleeting promise. Elisha turned her eyes toward the window. As it was the season that conceives life and spreads the most brilliant greenery, the endless garden was full of fresh vitality. It was a vividness starkly different from her own, as the flame of her life faded as time passed.

“Father, is this marriage the right thing?”

“What is this all of a sudden?”

“There is nothing I can do for the Baronet.”

“Elisha.”

“You know. I cannot support him as a wife, nor can I have children.”

The wrinkled hand patting her frail shoulder tightened.

“Marriage is…”

The old Duke’s cheeks, as he emphasized his words, were somewhat stiff compared to a moment ago.

“Something a woman must do. Why do you not know that marrying a wonderful man is your happiness?”

“Father…”

“It is only because your heart has grown weak as your body is ill, Elisha. I may not be a good father to you, but I still want you to enjoy all the glory you can as a daughter born into the Lenzdoor family. I will ensure you have the grandest wedding. Do not worry and just take care of your health.”

“I…”

“You say you have nothing? I do not know why you say such things. Who is the person backing you? Do not worry. This marriage will give wings to Baronet Enfield, not break them. It will be the most splendid and abundant wedding since the Queen’s.”

His repeated words were imbued with a firm will. Tears welled in the eyes of the daughter looking at such a father. She had received an excessive amount of love, but its form was always abundant wealth. Born to a mother of low birth, she had never once been recognized as a daughter of the Duke of Devonshire Lenzdoor family.

“Just prepare yourself to be surprised.”

With a warm smile, the Duke of Devonshire stroked the hair of his most cherished youngest daughter.

“…Yes, I will.”

Happiness as a woman.

Elisha recalled her mother, who had been ignored by the Duke of Devonshire until the moment of her death. She had once been a brilliant flower who stole the hearts of many men in society with her outstanding beauty, but at the moment she closed her eyes, she was merely a shabby old woman who had cried, exhausted by a lifetime of neglect and loneliness.

“How could you bring a child of such low birth into the Devonshire ducal household? The mere fact that this child is in this mansion is so filthy and loathsome that I cannot bear it.”

“Does the Duke give such an insult to me, who has stayed by your side your entire life!”

Elisha recalled the Duchess of Devonshire, whom she had encountered for the first time. Upon learning her identity, the Duchess had poured out her resentment toward Herald in a tone full of contempt. The distorted expressions, the intonation, the gestures, even the sound of breathing. Even in the most noble woman, happiness could not be found.

‘MacQuan…’

Elisha whispered her fiancé’s name in her heart. A man with a handsome appearance and a promising future. Regardless of the public’s negative evaluation, he was simply a person who was kind and gentle to her. She had made such a man wait too long and left him alone. Without fully possessing him, nor letting him go.

An unbearable loneliness swept over her. It was a coldness like frozen snow. Elisha wrapped her thin, withered arms around herself.

“Oh, there is a piece I presented at the literary salon hosted by Madam Burhemph this time. Everyone who attended praised it.”

“Madam Burhemph?”

“Yes. Shall I show it to you?”

“Yes, let me see it.”

With an exaggerated smile toward the old Duke who watched her with concern, Elisha hurriedly changed the subject.

The Parliament during the opening period flowed busily, as if every second were precious. It was exactly halfway through the period since the last General Election. The behind-the-scenes work for the next election and the competition to establish individual achievements intensified day by day.

MacQuan also devoted much time and effort to the process of soliciting votes to re-propose the bill he had been steadily working on for several years. Of course, while working without distinction between day and night, he also put effort into a different kind of solicitation.

“Dried herb tea?”

It had been a long time since their last outing. After several scheduling conflicts, the two had finally managed to coordinate their time, continuing their secret exchange of letters and spending a passionate night in Bristone. In the air, where the heat of their lovemaking had not yet dissipated, MacQuan abruptly handed over a paper bag.

“Here. It’s not ordinary leaves, but tea leaves that have been aged for a long time. They came from Daecheong, and the flavor is superior to regular black tea. It’s a blend of several leaves. I heard that the longer you steep it, the more effective it is for insomnia, so just instruct your servant to have you drink it every single night before bed.”

“Hmm…”

With a dry chuckle, Aaron examined the box inside the bag from various angles. Seeing him look so serious, MacQuan unconsciously smiled with satisfaction. In the past, he might have thought Aaron was mocking him, but he now knew that Aaron had a habit of letting out a low snort whenever he focused on something.

Before he could even feel a sense of alarm at how close they had become—knowing even such trivial habits—MacQuan rubbed his cheek against Aaron’s shoulder, which was still damp with sweat.

“I don’t particularly like tea.”

Contrary to his expectations, the reaction wasn’t great. After reading the detailed brewing instructions written on the packaging, the man handed the box back in the bag with an expression of complete indifference.

“Drink it even if you don’t like it. You spend your days taking nothing but medicine, complaining that your head hurts or that you can’t sleep. No matter how good the medicine is, you develop a tolerance. It might work with a small dose at first, but eventually, you hit a limit.”

Taken aback by the unexpected rejection, MacQuan frowned in irritation and forced the bag back into the other man’s arms.

“Drinking tea like this isn’t going to solve the problem.”

Aaron’s face stiffened awkwardly as he was forced to hold the bag. It would be more accurate to say he looked lost. Watching this, MacQuan let out a faint sigh and grabbed Aaron’s wrist, which had grown thinner over the past few months.

“I know it’s a side effect of the opium.”

“….”

“I know. It was likely opium that I produced and I sold.”

“….”

“Every time I see your face, I regret it thousands of times a day, so please just take it. You can laugh and call it hypocrisy if you wish.”

It was, of course, a fabricated statement, but it felt strangely awkward to utter and made his chest ache. Even if Aaron Wizfeldon were to die right this moment from addiction, MacQuan wouldn’t have blinked an eye, yet he had to convey these false emotions with a desperate and sorrowful tone.

“Your silence is even more frightening.”

No longer having the confidence to look him in the eye, MacQuan turned Aaron around and hugged him from behind. Even for a seasoned businessman and politician, it was by no means easy to maintain a lie while looking directly at someone. Bitter breaths were exchanged softly.

“….”

“….”

As the atmosphere gradually stabilized, MacQuan realized his acting had succeeded. A tingling sensation rose through their touching skin. It took a considerable amount of time before the conversation resumed.

“Can you make a mat out of wild grass?”

As the night deepened and the air grew chillier, MacQuan hugged Aaron tighter, fearing he might be cold, and replied.

“Wild grass?”

Fiddling with the paper bag, Aaron nodded and continued in a slow voice.

“A type of herb… I’m not sure exactly what. Weaving herb-like leaves. To use as a cover for a bed mattress.”

“Aren’t herb leaves usually short? They wouldn’t be suitable for weaving.”

“…They weren’t all herbs.”

“You mean mixing them with other grasses?”

“Perhaps.”

Listening to the clumsy explanation, it was clear that the man himself didn’t fully understand the object. It was a whimsical remark, uncharacteristic of him. MacQuan let out a short chuckle and buried his face in the bright hair.

“Why is your explanation so poor? Do you need a mat?”

A large hand stroked a waist that had no flesh to grip. It was a bold and irreverent gesture, but the primary meaning behind it was concern.

Aaron Wizfeldon had always been thin for his height, but compared to a few months ago, he was decidedly gaunt. Setting aside the opium issue, much of it was due to his naturally sensitive and prickly temperament.

“I’m not sure exactly what you’re talking about, but it’s not something I’m capable of. It’s an object I’ve never even heard of. No matter that I’m not a noble, there’s no way I could do such a thing.”

“…I see.”

“Do you need a mat?”

“No.”

“If not, then… do you want me to make one for you?”

Instead of answering, Aaron lightly pushed away the face that kept fussing around his nape.

“Stop it. I’ll have to get angry for you to stop.”

At the spiteful gesture, MacQuan smiled with a playful expression.

“Are you disappointed?”

“Nonsense.”

With a cold retort, Aaron pushed himself up completely. His back muscles moved flexibly with the motion. While the lines were sleek, MacQuan wished he had a bit more flesh on him. After observing his physical condition for a while, MacQuan blurted out unconsciously.

“No matter how much I love you, I don’t have the skill to make such a mat. I’ve never done it before.”

With a nonchalant answer, he hugged the other’s waist again. For some reason, unlike usual, his fake lover didn’t push his hand away in irritation, nor did he pull him closer; he simply stared off into the distance. Even though that gaze wasn’t directed at him, MacQuan was seized by an oddly excessive anxiety.

“If there is something you need, just tell me. I will get you anything you desire.”

“There isn’t much of that.”

“Do you need a mat woven from herb leaves? Is it because of your sleep issues? Do you happen to know what kind of herb it is? There are many types of herbs. If you can tell me a similar scent, I can find it quickly.”

“….”

Growing impatient at the lack of an immediate answer, MacQuan began to pour out the scenes and thoughts that came to mind in a disorganized fashion.

“Now that I think about it, I remember hearing that placing dried herb leaves around the bedroom is good for insomnia. I should find out which type is best. I have a contact from a previous business deal who handles medicinal herbs. Of course, a mat is fine, but it’s better to consistently drink good tea. Since they are the same herbs. If you dislike this tea, I’ll prepare a different one. I’ll look into it along with the mat…”

“That’s enough. Stop right there.”

At the cool touch on the back of his hand, MacQuan finally stopped his endless stream of words. In truth, he hadn’t even realized what he was saying. He had simply been pouring out whatever thoughts occurred to him.

Perhaps his acting had been better than expected, as Aaron smiled mischievously and tapped the back of MacQuan’s hand a couple more times.

“There’s no need. I just mentioned it because I remembered, and I have no particular reason to use such a mat. Give me the tea. I’ll drink it. Though it probably won’t be very effective.”

His tone was indifferent, but his downcast face held an indefinable longing. His usual irritable or dry expression was nowhere to be found. Seeing this, the unpleasant emotion that had barely subsided began to grow again. MacQuan asked again, sounding threatening.

“Have you used one before?”

The motion of placing the bag on the console stopped. A bad premonition passed through him. His exhaled breath was hot, and he felt the illusion of his veins throbbing. It felt as if a sharp stone was blocking the center of his body.

“…Did someone perhaps make one for you?”

The more he spoke, the more the answer revealed itself. A name he had forcibly buried in his subconscious circled his mind. The movement of his fingers, sensing the other’s discomfort, came to a complete halt.

“….”

After a long silence, Aaron met MacQuan’s eyes. After a while, a slow, low voice flowed.

“No.”

It was a lie.

MacQuan instinctively realized the other was lying. A whirlpool of betrayal surged. He didn’t even have time to realize how shameless his heart was.

“…I see.”

Even so, he couldn’t ask if it was true. He didn’t know what other lies would come from that serene face. He would likely deceive him again with sweet smiles and moans.

Theodore.

At the sudden emergence of the name, MacQuan didn’t hide his angry emotions and roughly pulled Aaron toward him. The body that was easily embraced without much resistance gave him a strange sense of victory. Regardless of the past, the one here with this man was not a ghost in name only, but himself. That fact further exhilarated him.

“I know it’s petty, but…”

As he rubbed the areola, which had swollen red from being sucked all night, a weak moan escaped. Despite being a man, it was amusing how he now reacted immediately just by touching his chest. Hadn’t this body become completely accustomed to him? As he stroked the disheveled side-hair, MacQuan’s rigid expression softened slightly at the way the body leaned into him.

“I want to erase all of your past.”

Contrary to the softened tone, the content of his words was fierce. Aaron, who had been closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation, also narrowed his eyes. Brushing back the platinum blonde hair that thickly covered the forehead with a meticulous hand, MacQuan repeatedly kissed the gaunt cheeks and forehead.

“You occasionally say useless things.”

Between the blunt answers, there was a hint of amusement. MacQuan, feeling somewhat relieved, easily agreed.

“I agree. Something has happened to my head.”

“It’s as if you’ve completely changed. I can’t keep up with the pace.”

“I can see you’d hate it if I said love changed me.”

MacQuan smiled mischievously and gently stroked the area near Aaron’s heart with his palm. It was a flat chest with no flesh at all, yet it was hard to pull his hand away. A slow but distinct heartbeat could be felt through the thin skin. It was the sound announcing that this person existed and was alive.

“Try to reduce the painkillers.”

“If that were possible, I wouldn’t have taken them in the first place.”

Ironically, the one giving the advice also frequently took painkillers for his own headaches, but MacQuan continued his nagging without considering his own situation.

“As I said before… even medicine intended for treatment leads to tolerance. You need to try diverting your attention in a different way.”

“Like the tea you gave me?”

“You’re an excellent student. As expected of a Cambridge graduate, you’re different.”

“What kind of crazy talk is this.”

“I think it’s a compliment.”

“Ha…”

A deeper laugh flowed between the faint breaths. Looking at the beautifully curved corners of the mouth and eyes, a hard-to-bear lump sank heavily, scratching at his entire heart. The man trusted him completely, leaning on him comfortably and revealing a side he didn’t show others without hesitation.

A peaceful current continued. The man leaning against his chest blinked and let out a small yawn. Signs of fatigue were evident on his pale face.

“Are you sleepy?”

“A little…”

In the air so tranquil it made the body feel languid, MacQuan buried his nose in the hair that was brighter than sunlight. A soft and fragrant sensation tickled his cheek. He felt peaceful.

“Shall I tell you a boring story?”

“…If it’s boring, don’t. It’s a hassle.”

“My, why are you so heartless?”

Laughing low, MacQuan hugged Aaron even tighter.

The reason he brought up past memories was due to a whimsical heart, triggered by the relaxed atmosphere.

“My father was also a businessman. He mainly handled the brokerage of civil engineering materials.”

The tone opening the conversation was flat. Aaron, who had seemed clearly annoyed, eventually held his breath and listened intently to the story.

MacQuan recalled an old memory. No matter what he brought up, it didn’t evoke pleasant emotions. Dirty, smelling back alleys, a sick body, tears and screams, curses, unbearable hunger, begging, misery, fear, murderous intent.

Survival.

“Unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a business sense. He trusted others too easily. He was a man who believed people were inherently good. It didn’t take long for him to be defrauded, lose the business, and accumulate debts. Ridiculously, the person who deceived my father was a long-time client he trusted most. Among them were nobles.”

A cold laugh rang out. Aaron relaxed his body further and rubbed his cheek against MacQuan’s arm. At the soft touch, his lips curved slightly.

“Have you ever seen the trials that laborers or lower-class people undergo… rather than nobles?”

“No.”

“They are very crude and pathetic. It’s a pity to even call them trials. It’s a place where proper defense or sentencing doesn’t exist.”

The expression of the one recounting his unfortunate past was excessively calm and quiet. It was almost as if he were telling someone else’s story.

“Being kicked out of a townhouse in London to the slums of Camden Town happened in an instant. My mother, who had lived her whole life without want, could not endure such a life.”

The scene that greeted the young boy, who returned to a collapsing house after begging all day, was the body of his mother hanging in the air. The miserable end he saw in that rotting space, overflowing with all sorts of filth, remained vivid in his memory even after several decades. Not long after, his incompetent and good-natured father was dragged off to the most notorious debtors’ prison. It was the final meeting between father and son.

“Were you left alone?”

“I had one younger sister.”

“A sister?”

MacQuan answered with silence and pulled his lover closer.

“She was about six years old. She was cute with ginger curly hair and lots of freckles, but she didn’t like it.”

“Did you get separated?”

“She died. It must have been winter. She had a hernia and contracted an infectious disease, and there was no time to do anything. We were on our way to the hospital, and if there was any mercy… she didn’t suffer for long. It didn’t even take two days from the onset of the illness until she stopped breathing.”

“That must have been sad.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure. I didn’t have the money to get her treatment anyway, and I was just a brat under ten, too young to shed tears over sibling affection. It was hard just to earn enough to eat for a day. I might have been sad, but on the other hand, there was a sense of relief that the being I had to be responsible for had disappeared. Sometimes children can be more cruel.”

“….”

A cool palm touched his firm arm. That was all. MacQuan, staring silently at the hand touching him, buried his face in the other’s nape again.

This cheap confession, which couldn’t even be priced, was an act based on impulse.

“Opium was the only way I could succeed.”

And ten odd years passed. The powerless and shabby boy who wandered Camden Town grew into a politician whom no one dared treat carelessly. A man whose guilt, morality, and conscience had all vanished, leaving only the desire for success.

The nightmares of those days still plagued MacQuan from time to time, even now that he had achieved his myth of success. Whenever that happened, he reminded himself. That it was merely a nightmare, and that nothing would become reality to devour him again. That the past was simply the past.

“I don’t regret the past. Because it was the best I could do at the time.”

“….”

“But I have thought that if I could go back to that time, I would have absolutely prevented you from using opium. Of course, I know those words are useless now.”

“Anyway, as long as you weren’t a noble, there was no point of contact for us to meet.”

“Is that so.”

“It’s a completely useless hypothesis.”

The words were utterly cold, but within them lay a heavy piece of heart. That since they couldn’t have met or stopped it, regret was useless.

Low laughter blended softly. Feeling the hand fussing near his heart gradually slow down, Aaron turned his body back.

“Aaron?”

Finding the gaze staring directly at him somewhat uncomfortable, MacQuan cast his eyes down obliquely. At that timing, a cool hand cupped his cheek.

“What now…”

His thick eyebrows shot up. MacQuan felt inexplicably uneasy at Aaron Wizfeldon’s sudden action. The moment he tried to grab the wrist to pull it away, lips carrying a warm heat touched him softly.

“Are you perhaps trying to comfort me?”

At his bewildered expression, Aaron chuckled and asked back.

“Are you someone who deserves comfort?”

“Haha, I thought you might shed a tear for my story.”

“It’s certainly true that not all the storied children of the Camden Town slums turn to the opium business. You simply made the worst choice among many possibilities you could have chosen… and isn’t the responsibility for that entirely yours?”

There was no sympathy or empathy in the cold words.

Responsibility.

It was an obvious fact, but he was overwhelmed by a feeling of something heavy pressing deep in his chest.

“I hoped for comfort, but your reaction is too cold.”

“My situation isn’t good enough to comfort others.”

It was an inappropriate thing to say for someone who already enjoyed overflowing power and wealth. MacQuan smiled bitterly and fiddled with an earlobe whiter than snow.

“If you say that elsewhere, you might be criticized for speaking from a place of privilege. Shouldn’t a true aristocrat acknowledge the benefits they possess and embrace and provide for those who have none?”

At the faint reproach, Aaron let out a light scoff and shot him a sidelong glance.

“Who would dare tell me such a thing.”

With a wet, licking sound, a tongue traced the line of his lips with clear intent. It didn’t take long for the firmly closed lips to part. As a thick sensation, already erect, poked at the space between his thighs, the sound of chuckling grew louder.

“Stay just one more night.”

“I wonder if I’ll actually be able to sleep.”

Aaron shifted his body with a faint smile as the hot member hovered around the entrance.

“I suppose I can’t say no to that.”

Slender legs wrapped around his waist. Even at that slight movement, the entrance to the inner walls—which had been overworked until just a few hours ago—naturally opened. The wet tip of the glans touched that gap. The poking sensation felt as if it would swallow the shaft all the way to the end at any moment. As MacQuan gripped one buttock and applied pressure, the hole opened further. Excitement slowly ignited, and Aaron’s waist trembled instinctively following the sensations enveloping his entire body.

“Ah…”

“Physical consolation really is the best.”

“As expected of someone from the slums… your expression is meager and vulgar.”

The man laughed through his nose, as if it were absurd, his lips moving temptingly. It was a sneer meant to look down on the other.

“And who is the one moaning and cumming while coupled with that vulgar man?”

“Haa…”

MacQuan bit down on those sweet lips. An impulse surged within him to bury his entire body into that damp, narrow path right this instant.

“Huu…”

As he pushed his hips forward with a bit more force, the moderately open entrance easily swallowed the tip. At the distant sensation of the glans being tightened, MacQuan closed his eyes tight and embraced Aaron.

“I always think this when I sleep with you.”

“Ngh, uuh…”

“That I want to swallow you whole…”

“Ah, ngh…”

“That I want to tear you apart piece by piece… will you allow me?”

A violent urge to bite, rip, and chew him up rose in his throat. He wanted to bite until he drew blood and ram his member in until that narrow entrance tore. He wanted to break him completely, making him so unable to close that he could only hold MacQuan. He wanted to soak the inside of that body with his semen. He hoped that Aaron would leak the traces he had poured out from every pore just by breathing. It was an incomprehensibly intense impulse.

“I’m not a dog… ngh…”

“A dog… yes. Perhaps I am a dog.”

As the thickest part entered, Aaron let out a long moan. His pale, sweat-drenched nape was revealed under the light. Licking the reddened corners of his eyes, which betrayed his excitement, MacQuan inserted his member in one go. As he pressed into the hole, the elastic flesh wrapped around the entire shaft.

“Hngh…”

Having repeated insertion and ejaculation throughout the afternoon, the thoroughly soaked inner walls easily swallowed the penis. The entrance holding the member twitched incessantly. Unlike the beginning where it entered easily, the strong pressure tightening around the whole length made MacQuan frown, unable to contain himself. A strange atmosphere was created by the squelching sound of flesh rubbing together.

“…Are you alright?”

“A little, ngh, ah.”

The way he trembled, unable to withstand the shock of the insertion, was lovely. Impulsively, MacQuan grabbed Aaron’s chin and pulled him closer. Their drenched gazes met. It was a color like falling into a deep sea.

“Too…”

MacQuan momentarily forgot his words and stroked the clearly defined cheek with a desperate gesture. In the beginning of their relationship, he had preferred positions where they didn’t face each other during intercourse. He avoided interacting or touching more than necessary. It was because he lacked the confidence to talk of love or get excited while seeing the other’s face and expressions in detail.

“Too much…”

During sex, he had mostly made him lie face down or inserted from behind, but the feeling of the thin, cotton-thread-like hair clinging to his hand became so agonizing that even that became painful.

“I love it too much, Aaron.”

MacQuan could not admit that the emotion lying at the base of his subconscious was fear. He pressed his body close, releasing his unrefined emotions. With a splashing sound, wet pubic hair ruthlessly brushed against the buttocks.

“Aaron…”

“Mmm…”

Following the heat, they kissed again. Panting hot breaths, Aaron shifted his body slightly to wrap his hand around MacQuan’s cheek again.

“Aaron.”

“Ah, ngh, ugh…”

Aaron shifted his waist several times, warmly embracing the member. Whenever the thick shaft poked something, his body, now accustomed to the pleasure, heated up easily.

“Haa…”

“Does it feel good?”

It was a question like any other. A useless, trashy phrase with no particular answer. That was why MacQuan did not expect the response that followed in the slightest.

“I love it…”

Between shallow breaths, eyes that shone clearly curved after a long moment. Long, straight fingers quietly tapped MacQuan’s cheek.

“I love it.”

His heart suffered a violent seizure.

“….”

It was a heartbeat so intense it was almost nauseating. The moment he realized what he had just heard, his entire body trembled. Even though it was likely just words uttered in the throes of pleasure, he felt the illusion as if he had received a confession of love. Amidst the excessive excitement, the flames of fear flared up.

“That’s a relief.”

His awkwardly stiffened lips moved on their own.

“…I’m glad.”

“Mmm…”

MacQuan gripped the back of the hand cradling his cheek and kissed it roughly. Sweet breaths continuously flowed through the slightly parted lips. The fingertips gripping his shoulder were white without a drop of blood, while the area around the inner walls, stretched to their limit, was flushed red with heat.

Licking the area around the erect nipples he had obsessively sucked, MacQuan again spat out words that hadn’t passed through his mind.

“Among the trading companies I’ve dealt with for a long time… there is a large general store. Huu… they handle medicinal herbs and tea…”

“Nng, ngh…”

With a quiet whisper, the member moved slowly back and forth. Due to the pressure of the damp inner flesh tightening strongly, even the sound of breathing gradually became wet. MacQuan breathed heavily, struggling to suppress the sensation of wanting to ejaculate right then and there.

When he chewed the white, soft earlobe and bit the nape of the neck hard, Aaron winced in pain but did not push him away. Along with the squelching sounds, the speed of insertion increased. Sweat poured down frantically following the shaking movements.

“Ah, ngh, ugh, ugh!”

“When the reading club ends next week…”

“Ngh… mm, nng.”

“Would you like to go together? Let’s see if there’s anything good for insomnia.”

The neat face was distorted with pleasure. Instead of words, Aaron repeatedly rubbed his cheek against MacQuan’s chest.

Stroking the sweat-soaked blonde hair with his palm, MacQuan fell into a trance, kissing every part of the other’s face. The smacking sounds of the kisses gripped and shook his heart. The hand cradling the cheek was cautious, as if holding a precious jewel, and the smile lingering on his lips would not fade.

Does it feel good?

I love it.

Do you really love it?

Yes.

Even amidst the frantic surge, the questions and answers did not cease. He slowly became addicted to the conversation that felt like a confession.

MacQuan kissed the shimmering golden hair and the white forehead. The rain of kisses continued to the thin eyelids, the tear-rimmed corners of the eyes, and the pointed tip of the nose.

Licking the slightly dry lips, he thrust his hips upward more powerfully. Due to the strong insertion, the sheets pushed by the toes were ruthlessly crumpled, and the slender body shook in time with the movement of the member sliding in and out. Neither of them took their eyes off the other for a single moment. It was a moment of focusing solely on each other.

‘…This is good.’

The formless emotion surged up from the tips of his toes with terrifying force. His subconscious lost its way and ran wild.

This is good.

MacQuan thought it over and over.

This body embracing him, the pressure tightening around his member, the sensation of skin clashing. The satisfaction of being connected to the deepest part of the other, this beastly act consisting only of pleasure.

He embraced the sobbing, moaning man as if to bind him, pushing him further to the limit. He wanted to focus only on pleasure.

As if that were all, as if that were everything.

Because if he didn’t, he simply could not endure the resolutions that kept crumbling.

✧ ✧ ✧

Unlike its lavish exterior, the area prepared inside the mansion flowed with a very quiet and dark atmosphere. The one to break the silence, where even the sound of breathing became noise, was an elderly man.

“Is he trustworthy?”

The tone of the question was vivid with anger.

“Yes, he is a man well-known in this field. The titles of the mansion were intricately entangled, and there were those whose whereabouts were unknown or those who existed only on paper. It was a structure where it was difficult to identify the owner of the townhouse at once unless one was determined to dig.”

“I see…”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he groaned. Along with the deep furrow of his brow, his memory quickly regressed to the past. The existence of an obstacle attempting to ruin the achievements he had spent his life building surged over his consciousness.

“Since you’ve produced results, ensure the payment is sufficient. And…”

The blue blood, symbolizing a long history, settled calmly.

“Place another watcher behind him. We don’t know what might happen.”

From decades of experience, the Duke of Cornwall had learned that one must not trust anyone until the very end. The ruthless sound of a cane striking the polished marble floor continued for a while.

“You may leave. See to it that no one enters until I call.”

“Understood.”

The secretary left the study, and silence soon followed. After confirming that no one was left in the study, the old Duke skillfully sliced open the envelope with a letter opener.

“….”

About a dozen documents revealed themselves through the wide-open entrance. Eyes moved quickly, scanning the contents densely printed on the imitation paper. As the secretary had reported, many names and relationships were entangled, but upon reaching the final destination, only one name remained.

Continued in Volume 4 of .

Footnote

White Club: One of the social club gatherings of the Whig Party