Chapter 43: Jealousy in the Hidden Attic

Could a person’s face truly burn with such fury?

The librarian could feel the emperor’s rage pouring from his entire body. But why was he this angry? Was not Lord Byron the one person closest to him?

‘Everyone in the palace knew that the emperor, who trusted no one, at least spoke honestly with his maternal cousin. There was no way Byron had committed treason, nor would he ever dare touch the emperor’s cherished lover… No, wait.’

Before the librarian could continue the thought, the emperor strode forward and stopped in front of Byron.

“Lord Byron.”

The voice that left the emperor’s lips was cold enough to freeze every living thing. Sensing that something grave was unfolding, the librarian hurried behind a bookshelf and watched the confrontation between the cousins with fascinated eyes.

“Your Majesty.”

Despite this not being an official occasion, the emperor addressed him with formal distance. Byron merely smiled gently in return, his gaze full of trust. He assumed his rigid cousin had come to scold him for neglecting his duties lately.

“Would you forgive my discourtesy? As you can see, someone is sleeping soundly, and I could not bring myself to wake him. I ask for your generous understanding.”

“…Is it him?”

The emperor’s voice was so low that Byron failed to hear properly.

“Could you repeat yourself, Your Majesty? I’m afraid I didn’t catch that.”

“I asked whether this is the beloved you said you cared for.”

Byron’s smile faded.

The question was unnecessary. The answer had already been obvious from the moment their eyes met. Only days ago, Byron had openly bragged about finally making progress with the beauty he had sworn to make his own.

Since the emperor had gone so far as to come all the way to the library, Byron had even gestured for silence and, out of playful mischief, deliberately kissed Gir’s forehead for him to see.

“Yes, Your Majesty. This is Gir, the physician attending the owner of the Swallow Palace.”

‘Ha. A physician.’

Owen was so dumbfounded he nearly lost the ability to speak.

The beauty Byron had fallen for was his own male consort?

How could he possibly have imagined such a thing? Byron had spoken with unusual sincerity this time, and Owen had merely thought, so he’s truly smitten for once. But now, recalling everything Byron had said about this mysterious beauty, Owen’s blood boiled.

And suddenly he remembered Fria’s sly request for permission to enter the library.

Had he asked for that merely to flirt behind Owen’s back with his own cousin?

How dare he scheme so boldly?

“Did he tell you that himself?” Owen asked coldly. “That he was the physician of the Swallow Palace?”

“Surely you know him yourself? He said he often leaves his residence, so I assumed perhaps even Your Majesty had not seen him before.”

“Byron… you truly…”

Suppressing his fury through clenched teeth, Owen asked one final question.

“You mean to tell me… you did not know this man was my consort?”

Behind the bookshelf, the librarian hiccuped in shock.

‘Consort? My consort?’

That blond man was the infamous male consort everyone whispered about? And he himself had momentarily entertained improper thoughts merely because the man looked so pure and beautiful.

The librarian’s face drained of color.

This was an enormous scandal.

The emperor and Acting Chancellor Byron fighting over a consort? A romantic conflict between cousins over a man? Nothing could be more dramatic. The tragedies of the previous dynasty, soaked in bloodshed, flashed through the librarian’s mind.

The empire itself might collapse over this.

“…What?”

Byron doubted his own ears.

Impossible.

Owen had been seen together with the master of the Swallow Palace before. There was no way he could fail to recognize him. Even if he had only seen him from behind, the hair length had been completely different.

“That was a wig.”

“What use are ornaments for a man? He doesn’t care for such things.”

Like lightning striking his skull, realization crashed into Byron.

One after another, his conversations with Gir resurfaced, the scattered pieces finally assembling themselves into a complete picture.

“If you mock a consort, you may not live to see another sunrise.”

“What does His Majesty like? No, not me, the person I serve wanted to know.”

“Only because it’s you will I say this, but don’t you think His Majesty is rather selfish? Complaining about the emperor is surprisingly fun. I’m glad I became friends with you. Swear you’ll never repeat what I say.”

The first night Byron met Gir had been the same night the male consort stayed in the main palace to nurse Owen.

So that was why he had been impossible to find.

No wonder no one could ever say they had met an Alphernian physician despite his unforgettable beauty. How could there possibly be two men in the palace with faces like that?

“So my consort deceived you,” Owen said icily. “You may have acted in ignorance, but I cannot overlook the crime of coveting the emperor’s consort.”

His gaze turned colder than ever.

“Byron. I sentence you to indefinite confinement at your estate. Until I grant permission, you are forbidden from entering the palace. Disobey me, and I will not be merciful again.”

The punishment was lighter than Byron expected.

Essentially, his cousin was merely saying: Get out of my sight.

Byron looked troubled. He had loudly declared before the emperor himself that he found the man attractive, that he had fallen for him. How exactly was he supposed to repair this disaster?

Careful not to wake the sleeping Fria, Byron lowered himself onto one knee.

“I shall obey Your Majesty’s command. However…”

“However?”

Owen’s brow rose sharply.

“My affection was entirely one-sided. The master of the Swallow Palace regarded me only as a friend.”

‘A friend.“

Frost settled over Owen’s expression as he looked at Byron still guarding Fria’s sleeping form.

“Wake up.”

Fria did not react.

“Wake up! Will you not wake this instant?”

Feeling Owen’s murderous glare, Byron cautiously withdrew the hand that had been supporting Fria. As Fria’s body tilted sideways, Owen seized his shoulders roughly and shook him hard.

“I said wake up.”

Within the haze of sleep, Fria heard someone shouting his name as though cold water were being poured over him.

“Fria!”

Strength gradually returned to his shoulders beneath Owen’s grip.

“…”

Blue eyes fluttered open slowly, finally focusing on the face before him.

Recognizing the emperor, Fria spoke in a hoarse murmur.

“…Your Majesty?”

So it was true.

Gir truly was the emperor’s infamous male consort.

Byron had no choice but to painfully accept that the person he had fallen in love with belonged to his cousin.

To Byron’s already notorious reputation as a shameless flirt regardless of gender were now added two grave sins: seducing the emperor’s consort and coveting the lover of his own kin.

“How are you here-”

Before Fria could finish, Owen grabbed his wrist and yanked him away.

“Your Majesty!”

Dragged helplessly along, Fria looked back.

Their eyes met.

Byron lowered himself gracefully onto one knee and bowed deeply. While one of Fria’s wrists remained trapped in Owen’s grip, Byron lifted the other hand lightly and mimed pressing a kiss against the back of it through the air.

It was the formal greeting reserved for an emperor’s consort.

‘So he knows now.’

This meant the end of their friendship.

Now that his identity had been revealed, any further contact would only invite disaster. Would he ever have the chance to apologize properly?

And if Byron were misunderstood because of this and fell from the emperor’s favor, what then? Fria might hold the highest rank among the consorts, but he was still merely someone surviving beneath imperial power. Without the emperor’s protection, he could do nothing.

‘I’m truly sorry, my friend. Someday I’ll meet you again and apologize properly. Until then, stay healthy. Try to be less shameless, and stop flirting with everyone you see.’

In his heart, Fria prayed fervently that Byron’s “powerful relative” truly possessed the influence Byron always boasted of.

****

Byron watched Fria being dragged away by Owen with a pained expression.

Of all people, he had to fall for the emperor’s consort.

No matter how infamous Byron was as a libertine, even he could never lay a hand on the beloved of someone precious to him.

He remembered once asking Owen whether he knew the consort’s name. Owen had only frowned in response.

‘So you knew all along.’

Fria.

It was a beautiful name that suited him perfectly. Had Byron known sooner, he would have spoken it endlessly while he had the chance.

Their delightful little friendship game ended today.

The next time they met, they would have to maintain the strict distance between ruler’s subject and imperial consort.

And yet, despite suffering genuine heartbreak for the first time in years, Byron did not feel entirely miserable.

Owen, consumed by jealousy and possessiveness, revealing his emotions so openly.

It had been a very long time since Byron had seen his cousin react so fiercely.

“Swear you’ll never repeat what I say.”

A man’s oath was ironclad.

Byron intended to keep pretending he knew nothing about all the feelings Fria had confessed while disguised as a physician.

After all, curiosity was merely the beginning of love.

And more urgently…

“You there. What’s your name?”

“…”

“Pretending not to hear won’t help, librarian.”

Byron approached the man hiding behind the bookshelf. The plump middle-aged librarian stared up at him with terrified rabbit eyes.

“What’s your name, sir?”

Byron smiled sweetly.

It was the smile that worked best on women, but surprisingly effective on enemies as well.

“I need your name if I’m going to threaten you properly.”

“W-Wayne.”

“Good. Wayne.” Byron’s smile widened. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

The librarian trembled.

“If you spread what you saw today, I’ll use every connection I have to make your life extraordinarily complicated. Understood?”

Wayne nodded frantically.

“I could even start telling people you’re my lover. How would you like that?”

As Byron drew closer, Wayne shrieked and tried desperately to retreat.

After this, he swore he would never again entertain even a passing thought about men.

****

Out of the library, across the central courtyard, up the grand staircase of the main palace, through the emperor’s chambers, into the connected inner room, and finally into the hidden attic.

Throughout the entire journey, Owen ignored Fria calling after him.

Only once the wall slid shut behind them did the emperor finally release the wrist he had been gripping.

“Now then,” Owen said coldly, “try giving me an excuse.”

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