By Zephyria 
Contrary to the rumors of his debauchery, Cecile Adrian was mingling among the nobles with a grace that surpassed anyone else. Even as he smiled, he remained far from any vulgar temptations.
The group of men each held the same type of glass. In small glasses shaped like tulip leaves, a honey-colored liquid sloshed around. Their faces were intoxicated, savoring the rare cognac that could only be found in the imperial palace.
Every time their glasses emptied, Cecile kindly refilled them. He did not shy away from tasks that were typically reserved for servants.
Yet, his posture remained dignified. It felt less like he was serving and more like he was bestowing.
“I somewhat agree with your words. There is a need to include commoners in the cabinet.”
Cecile lightly shook his half-full glass as he spoke. The subtle scent of vanilla tickled his nose.
Tristan nodded in response.
“A society centered around the nobility will inevitably become obsolete. Already, capable bourgeois are making their names known in the capital. If they are appointed, the empire will surely prosper even more.”
“But if that happens, the position of the nobility will diminish.”
“Conflict with the vested interests is an unavoidable process.”
“That’s not something a noble should say. Your father would be quite upset to hear that.”
Cecile sat back leisurely, bringing the glass to his lips. With a gulp, the glass was soon emptied. Without needing to ask, Tristan brought the bottle and filled Cecile’s glass to the brim.
“To be honest… I never expected to have this conversation with you, Cecile.”
“I feel the same way.”
“It’s quite remarkable how similar our views seem to be.”
Well, that’s because I can see right through you.
Instead of answering, Cecile merely smiled, his eyes twinkling.
In his previous life, they had clashed so fiercely that it was a wonder they hadn’t devoured each other, but now he was entirely accommodating to Tristan.
From preferences to every word spoken, they matched perfectly, making Tristan feel as if he had found a soulmate.
It was a somewhat cunning method, but there was no helping it.
Cecile muttered to himself as he took another sip. It looked sweet like honey water, but the alcohol content was quite high, scratching his throat as it went down. It felt as if he had swallowed a fiery blaze, burning his esophagus.
Tristan was completely smitten with the cognac. He remembered the times when the emperor would reward him with it, savoring each sip as he drank it slowly.
The cognac he had secretly procured was proving to be quite effective. Even the notoriously shy Tristan Dyke was willing to join Cecile at the table upon seeing the bottle.
As they shared one drink after another, their conversation deepened. They discussed various topics, from politics and economics to art, as time flowed endlessly.
Before long, the number of people around them dwindled, leaving only Cecile and Tristan. With the listeners gone, Cecile broached a more serious topic.
For instance, which side the current imperial power should lean towards.
Of course, just because there were no ears to listen didn’t mean there were no eyes watching.
Alexis had settled in a shadowed corner, secretly observing the conversation between Cecile and Tristan.
The long red fabric draped from the ceiling to the floor was so thin that everything inside was clearly visible. It served only to divide the area, failing to act as a proper screen.
“Why is our gentleman here all alone in such a secluded place?”
At that moment, a slender arm wrapped around Alexis’s shoulder. The courtesan, unaware of who she was seducing, exuded a strong scent of perfume as she climbed onto Alexis’s lap.
“I have a hobby of voyeurism.”
Alexis smiled faintly, wrapping his arms around the courtesan’s slender waist. Instead of pushing her away, he decided to play along with the atmosphere.
“Who are you watching? Ah… those gentlemen?”
The courtesan twisted her long neck to look in the direction Alexis was gazing. She let out a high-pitched laugh.
“When he first arrived, it was quite the commotion. The men all hid my goods between their legs and were on high alert, you know?”
“On high alert?”
“Fearing they might be taken advantage of, of course.”
The courtesan chuckled lightly as if recalling that moment. Leaning against Alexis’s broad shoulder, she continued speaking.
“Those who don’t know the subject tend to make a fuss. Who would have thought that a noble would treat his body so carelessly? A few foolish men tried to poke around and ended up getting thoroughly humiliated. It was so funny.”
“But he seems to fit in quite well with the others. His name was… Tristan Dyke, wasn’t it?”
“Well, it seems you have a few favorites. Lord Dyke is one of them. The way you keep him close and keep pouring him drinks suggests you’ve chosen him as your bedmate for tonight.”
The courtesan playfully poked at Alexis’s chest. With such a splendid nobleman, she could easily spread her legs without payment.
“What do you say? Shall we spend a hot night in bed tonight?”
“Sorry, but I prefer to watch.”
“Just in time, that’s my specialty. I can cater to any taste. What position would you like to see? Who would you like to watch? Perhaps women together? That’s possible too.”
Alexis chuckled lightly and handed her a gold coin. It was an extravagant reward for a mere playful exchange.
“Now, please go. I’d like to be alone.”
The courtesan, seemingly pleased with the unexpected reward, raised her red lips in a smile.
She left a kiss on Alexis’s cheek and quickly got off his lap. Though the woman had vanished, the strong scent of her perfume lingered. Alexis crossed his legs and tightly folded his arms, once again focusing ahead.
‘A man I like.’
His cold gaze turned towards the man next to Cecile. Tristan Dyke was certainly a striking figure. He could be called handsome, and though he was slender, he appeared to be quite tall. Perhaps a man like him was the ideal type Cecile desired.
The two were engaged in a lively conversation, chatting away without pause.
Typically, Cecile would ask questions, and Tristan would respond, with Cecile listening intently and smiling. It was a warm and gentle smile that anyone would find endearing.
It was a sight unfamiliar to Alexis. Cecile, looking more mature than his age, strangely tugged at his nerves.
It was clear there was something beneath the surface, yet it felt as if it was his true self.
How many faces does Cecile Adrian have? I can’t seem to grasp the identity of this man at all.
His sharply shining blue eyes were now solely fixed on Cecile. The arms crossed over his chest grew firmer, and his intense gaze struggled to dissect Cecile’s true nature. The purpose of identifying the chief aide candidate had long been erased from Alexis’s mind.
Now, the large bottle of alcohol had revealed its bottom. Though Cecile maintained a relaxed posture, he was beginning to look hazy.
“Are you alright? You seem to be drunk.”
“……”
Cecile remained silent, his head tilted slightly. Seeing him quietly dozing off, Tristan gently rose from the sofa and approached.
“Cecile, Cecile?”
When calling his name again yielded no response, Tristan lightly shook Cecile’s shoulder. The hand that had been precariously supporting him fell away, causing Cecile’s head to tilt to the side.
Oh no, Tristan gasped softly as he caught Cecile’s head.
His face was small enough to fit in one hand. Moreover, his skin and hair were so fine that Tristan found himself at a loss, rolling his eyes at the sensation transmitted through his palm.
‘Wow, is this how royalty is?’
Having never experienced it, he had no way of knowing. After holding Cecile’s face for a while, Tristan was reminded once more of Cecile’s preciousness and carefully returned his face to its original position.
Now, only a difficult choice remained.
Tristan placed his hands on his hips and let out a helpless sigh. It seemed he had come alone without any attendants, and he was unsure how to escort a drunken person back to the palace. He had also drunk a bit more than usual, so his thoughts were muddled.
It seemed he would have to ask Count Alfonso for a guest room.
As he continued to ponder, just as he was about to reach out to Cecile, a low voice interrupted his actions.
“Dare you lay hands on a member of the royal family?”
Tristan jumped in surprise and straightened up. Turning towards the source of the voice, he saw a man who was a head taller than him, looking down with a gaze filled with disdain.
“It’s a misunderstanding! I have no ill intentions; I was merely trying to help someone who is drunk…”
“Why do you think it’s your place to do that?”
The sharp question left Tristan speechless. Had he made a mistake? No, he was simply doing what he ought to do.
After organizing his thoughts, Tristan’s eyes sparkled defiantly.
“And who might you be to interfere?”
“Interfere, you say?”
The man scoffed and tossed his hair back. The large palm swept away the wig, revealing bright platinum hair that shone like the sun.
Alexis carelessly discarded the wig.
“I am someone who has every right to do so.”