Chapter 41: The Awakening of Manifestation

But he felt nothing on his face. The strange sensation made Kebel slowly open his eyes again. The moment he saw Osh’s face right in front of him, Kebel nearly toppled backward, if Osh hadn’t caught him first.

“What were you imagining?”

“…Nothing.”

Kebel answered innocently, pretending not to know. But Osh’s emerald eyes curved seductively as though they had already read through every thought in his head. Embarrassed, Kebel pursed his lips before scraping his teeth lightly against them.

“Liar. Don’t hide it. Tell me, what did you want me to do to you?”

“…Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

At the firm, evasive answer, Osh slowly licked his lips as though disappointed. Then, in one swallow, he drained the wine left in his glass and casually dropped the empty glass over the terrace railing.

“What are you doing?! What if it hit someone down there?!”

“I don’t care. Whoever gets hurt doesn’t matter, as long as it isn’t you, Kebel.”

“…What?”

Unlike the flustered Kebel, Osh rose to his feet with an utterly harmless expression. As if worried Kebel might fall, he adjusted his posture and knelt on one knee before him. The scent mixed with the soft spring breeze drifted into Kebel’s nose.

With a languid ease, Osh took the wineglass from Kebel’s hand and set it down on the floor.

The warmth of the hand slowly wrapping around his felt hotter than the flush brought on by alcohol. He couldn’t tell whether he was the one burning up or Osh was, but somewhere deep inside him, desire simmered restlessly.

Under the moonlight, Osh’s eyes gleamed so vividly that Kebel felt certain they were thinking the exact same thing.

‘Thinking what?’

Kebel asked himself.

‘Desire.’

The word slipped naturally into his thoughts, and Kebel jolted in shock, covering his face with his free hand.

Even to himself, he felt unbearably animalistic.

“I’ll wait, Kebel. Until you tell me yourself that you want it. I won’t do anything.”

“…”

So that was it. Osh was a man too.

With the eyes of a young man who had only just come of age, Osh looked at him as though confessing a sin and pressed another long kiss against the back of Kebel’s hand before pulling away.

Like a scene from a film, time seemed to slow around him.

Then Kebel remembered the words he had forgotten to say.

“Congratulations on becoming an adult, Osh.”

“…”

Kebel smiled at him, the corners of his eyes curving beautifully.

Beneath the moonlit sky glittering with stars, their gazes tangled together in midair. And as though jealous of the two of them, fireworks suddenly exploded across the heavens.

Startled by the sudden noise, Kebel brushed back his wind-tousled hair and looked up at the fireworks. Huge circles burst brilliantly overhead, and his eyes sparkled with childlike excitement.

Unlike Kebel, who looked utterly delighted, Osh watched him with dark, murky eyes.

Like a snake staring at prey that had wandered into its nest, he gazed at Kebel with a secretive, obsessive look before slowly curling his lips into a smile.

A dangerously beautiful one.

****

At the same time, Beryl and Enok sat facing each other in the drawing room.

It seemed the divination had just ended, because Beryl removed the crystal sphere from his hand and leaned back in his chair. It was about time for the results, yet Enok still hadn’t opened his mouth.

Growing impatient, Beryl prompted him, and only then did Enok carefully speak.

“You will inherit the throne without issue, Your Highness.”

His voice was unusually clear and beautiful for a man.

As if he had expected nothing less, Beryl lifted the corner of his mouth in a mocking smile and draped both arms lazily over the backrest. He didn’t forget his usual habit of crossing his legs leisurely, either.

His arrogance was obvious to anyone who looked at him.

Then Enok’s eyes widened in alarm.

Beneath Beryl’s tight-fitting clothes, something bulged prominently between his crossed legs. Startled by the embarrassingly large outline, Enok quickly lowered his head like a frightened hamster, his eyes darting nervously.

Seeing that reaction, Beryl smirked even more smugly.

“Am I that handsome?”

“…T-That’s not- I apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?”

“…”

At the Crown Prince’s words, Enok lowered his head even further, fidgeting with his fingers.

Though he looked delicate enough to protect, Beryl merely clicked his tongue indifferently before uncrossing his legs and leaning forward.

“I know I’m handsome already. That can’t be helped. I was born this way.”

“…”

“But don’t fall for me. I already belong to someone.”

At Beryl’s words, Enok looked up at him.

Golden eyes dazzling enough to captivate, silky blond hair framing a sculpted face, everything about him was strikingly beautiful.

But to Enok, that was all it was.

Suppressing the nausea churning in his stomach, Enok stared determinedly at the middle of Beryl’s face instead. He didn’t dare throw up directly at such a “noble” visage, so he fixed his gaze somewhere safely between his nose and lips.

“There’s no need to pretend to be shy in front of me.”

“…”

Beryl spoke with a sly grin, leaning back lazily once more.

For a long moment, he stared at Enok as though evaluating merchandise.

Enok felt like if he stayed any longer, he might punch him. So he hurriedly dragged the crystal ball toward himself and stuffed it back into his bundle as quickly as possible.

The rushed movements sharpened Beryl’s gaze instantly.

“Do you like the young duke?”

His voice was cold enough to freeze the room.

Afraid Beryl might kill him on the spot if he answered wrong, Enok frantically shook his head.

Even then, the murderous pressure pouring from him made Enok’s hands tremble as he tightly tied up his bundle. He cautiously glanced upward at the suddenly eased atmosphere, only to meet Beryl’s eyes and immediately drop his gaze again.

“But this is strange. I’m not usually interested in other people.”

“…”

“And yet you keep drawing my attention. Why do you think that is?”

As if answering himself, Beryl burst into loud laughter.

Watching him laugh alone like a madman made a chill crawl down Enok’s spine. Every instinct he had screamed at him to leave immediately.

Unable to endure it anymore, Enok finally spoke.

“Since we’re finished now… may I leave?”

“No.”

“…”

“Do you happen to like drinking?”

Before Enok could respond, Beryl called for Gou outside the room and ordered wine and snacks to be brought in while tapping the armrest lazily with his fingers.

“I think I understand now why he told me to meet you. It means my fiancée knows my tastes very well.”

“…”

“People never really change. It makes no sense for him to suddenly hate me now, doesn’t it?”

“…I-I don’t understand what you mean.”

As the Crown Prince continued saying incomprehensible things, Enok shifted anxiously in his seat, desperate to escape.

Seeing that discomfort, Beryl smiled chillingly.

“So let’s talk. I want to hear exactly what my fiancée said to you.”

The moment Beryl finished speaking, fireworks exploded outside the window.

****

Was it because this body had never drunk alcohol before?

Or had the cold he’d been suppressing finally broken loose?

Kebel spent days bedridden with a blazing fever.

The heat and pain were so severe that he genuinely thought he might die. It hurt enough that death almost seemed preferable.

Only after the pain finally subsided did Kebel slowly force open his heavy eyelids.

Having gone so long without seeing light, everything remained blurry and indistinct. He blinked several times before finally turning toward the voice calling from beside him.

“You’re awake, Kebel!”

The Duke rose abruptly, his voice thick with emotion.

His face had grown noticeably gaunt. His eyes were damp with worry, as though he had truly feared Kebel might never wake again.

After the Duchess passed away, Kebel was all he had left.

The thought made tears sting painfully at the back of Kebel’s throat.

Feeling both sorry and guilty, Kebel quietly reached out and held his hand—something he normally never would have done.

Time had left wrinkles across the back of the Duke’s hand.

Perhaps that was why Kebel smiled softly, trying to reassure him.

But the moment his lips curved upward, dry skin split apart with a crack, fresh blood blooming across them.

The Duke hurriedly wiped it away with a handkerchief.

“You’ve suffered a lot, Kebel.”

His voice sounded painfully worn.

And somehow, Kebel knew he wasn’t merely talking about a fever or a hangover.

At Kebel’s questioning look, the Duke nodded as if to confirm it.

“Hadn’t your body been feeling cold and feverish these past few days?”

Kebel silently nodded.

The Duke sat down beside the bed and continued.

“Yes. Those are the symptoms right before manifestation. And on the day one becomes an adult, the manifestation fully awakens.”

“…Manifestation?”

“Yes. Manifestation.”

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