Chapter 40: The Scent Between Them

“Didn’t you bring it to use?”

The emperor’s hand brushed past Fria’s, which had been trying to hide the little bottle, before coming to rest on the white bread instead. As though nothing unusual had happened, Owen lifted the bread to his lips and bit into it.

Watching him chew so calmly, Fria slowly withdrew his arm from the basket.

‘He didn’t see it… right?’

Pretending to straighten his clothes, Fria slipped the perfume bottle into the pouch hanging at his waist with the most natural movement he could manage. At the first opportunity, he intended to sink the thing to the very bottom of the lake.

Silence settled between them, broken only by the sound of chewing.

If possible, Owen wanted to avoid seeing the male concubine for the rest of their stay at the villa. He did not wish to confront the strange emotions that had shaken him so violently in a single instant.

‘It seems the bruise didn’t remain.’

The male concubine also appeared uncomfortable, avoiding his gaze whenever possible. Looking down at the pale cheek lowered toward the ground, Owen recalled once more the scene from that day.

The instant he thought the man might die, his vision had gone dark and the earth beneath him had vanished into nothingness.

What had he seen in this man?

Whom had he mistaken him for?

‘Chief Chamberlain, may I leave first?’

‘Judith… what am I supposed to do?’

Unlike the hopes of Judith and the chamberlain, who desperately wished to bring them closer together, Fria only wanted to escape this suffocating situation.

‘Maybe I should take the boat.’

‘Maybe I should run away on it.’

For some time now, the male concubine’s gaze had lingered on the small ferry resting by the lakeshore. Even if they returned early, the chamberlain would surely devise yet another troublesome scheme to force them together.

Deciding they should at least remain long enough to avoid suspicion, Owen rose first from his seat.

‘Where is he going?’

With long strides, the emperor crossed to the overturned ferry and righted it. After carefully checking for cracks or holes, Owen tilted his chin toward Fria, who stared back at him in confusion.

“Are you not getting on?”

****

He had boarded almost without meaning to, but…

The sun was mercilessly hot, and the oar felt as heavy as if a drowned ghost were clinging to it. No matter how hard Fria rowed, the boat merely circled in place. The emperor’s stare watching him was equally scorching.

“I’ll do it.”

At Fria’s bold declaration that he would row, Owen gave him a peculiar look before eventually handing over the oar without protest.

Fria interpreted that look as mockery.

“What’s so difficult about this? I’m a man too.’

He had ridden boats many times while roaming the duchy’s mountains and fields with Gir, but there had almost always been a ferryman. If the boat was empty, Gir himself would row.

“I want to try too! Let me do it!”

“Don’t waste your strength unnecessarily. If the boat overturns, you won’t be fed until the next meal.”

At the time, Fria had scoffed at Gir’s warning.

Now he deeply regretted it.

His arms trembled violently. So that was why ferrymen all possessed monstrous muscles.

Though they had long since left shore, the boat still drifted pitifully close to land. Owen had reluctantly handed over the oar only to witness an absolutely ridiculous performance. Had it not been secured with a fastening, Fria would have lost it long ago.

The summer sun blazed overhead. Damp golden hair clung to the male concubine’s forehead, shining even brighter beneath the sunlight. Sweat rolled continuously down his flushed cheeks.

Even his breathing had become ragged.

Unable to watch any longer, Owen seized the oar back.

For a moment, Fria thought the emperor was about to pounce on him.

When Owen suddenly leaned over him, casting a shadow across his body, Fria instinctively squeezed his eyes shut. Then the emperor’s voice sounded above him.

“Too slow.”

‘Yes, yes, I know I was slow.’

Watching the ferry suddenly surge toward the center of the lake, Fria could only accept defeat. Without even seeming tired, Owen rowed swiftly into the deeper waters.

Exhausted, Fria leaned against the side of the boat and gazed at the shimmering lake. Ripples glittered like the scales of the dragon from the legend.

Perhaps the lovers from the tale were lingering here even now.

The emperor had rolled his sleeves to his upper arms, exposing bare skin as he rowed. Each pull of the oar brought the powerful lines of his body closer before they retreated again, broad shoulders, strong arms, a sturdy waist, solid thighs.

Fria knew that body.

He knew it in the intimate way only someone who had once tangled with it could.

The dizzying memory returned again and again until Fria shut his eyes and blamed the blinding sunlight instead.

Like an oar stirring water, the emperor sent ripples spreading across the surface of Fria’s heart.

****

When had he fallen asleep?

A chill along his spine woke him.

The first thing Fria saw upon opening his eyes was the sleeping face of the emperor directly before him. Instantly, all traces of drowsiness vanished.

Owen had fallen asleep facing him.

That explained the cold.

At some point, the ferry had drifted back beneath the shade of the great tree near shore. Beyond the shade the summer heat remained stifling, but beneath the branches the air was cool and refreshing.

Startled by how close their faces were, close enough for their noses to touch, Fria jerked upright. In the cramped boat, he lost his balance while trying to retreat.

“Ah- w-wait-!”

The ferry tipped violently and overturned, throwing both passengers into the lake with a tremendous splash.

Never in his life had anyone awakened Owen in such a manner.

Who would dare splash water onto an imperial prince- onto the emperor himself?

“…”

Had they not already drifted close to shore, he might have died without even understanding what had happened, becoming food for the lake dragon of legend.

The culprit, Fria, stood waist-deep in the water near shore, staring up at Owen with horrified eyes.

“Y-Your Majesty! I’m sorry!”

Soaked like a drowned rat, Owen extended a hand toward him. Yet Fria flinched violently and squeezed his eyes shut, clearly expecting to be struck.

A crease formed between Owen’s brows.

“Unless you intend to continue swimming, come out.”

Grasping Fria’s hand, Owen pulled him upright before climbing onto shore first.

The old zelkova tree, which had shaded countless lovers, ferrymen, fishermen, and children over the years, shielded them from the blazing summer sun.

Owen had intended to return immediately to the villa, but stopped when Fria’s footsteps slowed behind him. Though both had fallen into the water, Fria’s weaker body left him trembling beneath the cool shade like a quivering leaf.

They needed somewhere to warm themselves and dry their clothes.

Remembering a mountain keeper’s cabin he had often used while hunting in his youth, Owen changed direction and headed into the brush. Seeing Fria still standing there in confusion, he grabbed the man’s wrist and pulled him along.

“Your Majesty? Where are we going? The villa is the other way.”

When Owen did not answer, Fria also fell silent.

The moment they left the shade, the scorching summer heat descended upon them once more. Owen strode confidently along the narrow beast trail hidden beneath thick foliage.

****

The cabin appeared long abandoned.

Birds had nested throughout the tiny hut. After checking that none had built inside the chimney, Owen fetched firewood from storage. The damp logs refused to catch easily.

Watching him struggle, Fria crouched beside the fireplace and rearranged the logs to create airflow beneath them. Only after several attempts with the flint did the fire finally catch.

With a hiss, pale smoke drifted upward through the chimney.

“They’re wet,” Fria explained. “Wood that’s absorbed moisture doesn’t burn easily. It’ll go out quickly unless you prepare kindling first. Peeled bark or split wood works best.”

How does he know that?

Sensing Owen’s silent question, Fria continued.

“When I was younger, there were times I had to sleep outdoors. I’ve built fires for years, so I’m used to it.”

What reason would the son of a grand duke have for sleeping outside?

A knight in training might endure such hardships, but the delicate man before him hardly looked suited for rough living.

“Was the duchy lacking in funds?”

At first Fria thought it mockery, but he quickly realized Owen was asking sincerely.

“Well… there was someone who raised me from childhood. We often went into the mountains to gather medicinal herbs together. He was strict, but I learned many things from him.”

Thinking of Gir, his teacher, caretaker, physician, and closest companion, Fria smiled softly.

Gir would surely come for him eventually, even if he arrived furious enough to scold him from dawn until midnight.

Fria would gladly endure every lecture if only he could see him again.

At last, warmth spread steadily from the fireplace.

As Owen rose to remove his soaked clothes, Fria hurriedly turned his head away in embarrassment.

“You’ll catch cold if you keep them on.”

At this point, catching cold sounded preferable.

Unlike before, Fria could no longer undress before the emperor without becoming painfully conscious of him. The thought alone made his hands tremble.

“Achoo!”

The perfectly timed sneeze earned him a sharp look from Owen. Beneath that oppressive stare, Fria finally surrendered.

‘Why am I this embarrassed?’

‘It’s not as though this is the first time he’s seen me n*ked.’

His trembling fingers fumbled uselessly at the buttons. When his hand slipped lower and tugged at the pouch hanging from his waist, it fell with a dull thud.

The perfume bottle rolled free across the floor.

Owen bent down and picked it up.

Instantly, Fria’s face turned scarlet.

“Th-that is…”

“That is?”

‘Judith packed it, not me.’

He should have thrown it into the lake the moment he had the chance.

Does he know what it’s for?

Will he realize?

Of course he would realize.

The bottle itself was decorated with shameless drawings of entwined lovers. Its purpose could not have been more obvious.

Feigning complete ignorance, Owen held the bottle out toward him. Relieved, Fria reached to take it, only for Owen to tighten his grip and yank him forward.

Fria stumbled directly into the emperor’s chest.

“Didn’t you bring it to use?”

Fria’s face felt hot enough to burst into flames.

That damned friend of his had claimed the emperor was awkward, inexperienced, slow when it came to matters of the heart.

Every word had been a lie.

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