Chapter 44: Tears Beneath the Crown

“…”

At a time like this, the consort should have been on his knees, begging with hands and feet alike, yet Fria stood there mute as a fish. Judging by the way he frowned while rubbing the wrist Owen had been gripping, it must have hurt quite badly.

The sight irritated Owen.

And somehow, at the same time, it hurt him too.

“Why can’t you speak? Do you think you have no right to make excuses?”

Fria looked up at him with resentful eyes.

“…I do not understand what it is I am supposed to excuse myself for.”

“You don’t understand?”

“I do not know what Your Majesty is thinking, so how am I to know what explanation you want from me?”

“So you’re saying you did nothing wrong?”

“I merely read books in the library Your Majesty permitted me to enter.”

“Read books? You expect me to believe you were merely reading books?”

Owen had seen everything with his own eyes. The consort’s shameless lies made his voice rise once more.

“Is ‘reading books’ what they call flirting with men in Alphenia? I saw it clearly myself, yet you dare try to deceive me?”

‘Flirting?’

Fria had thought perhaps some minor misunderstanding might arise from the situation, but all he had done was chat with a friend and accidentally fall asleep for a moment.

To hear Owen twist that into “flirting” made irritation flare within him as well.

Straightening his expression, Fria answered coolly.

“We did no such thing.”

“No such thing? Then are you claiming I imagined it?”

“I do not know what misunderstanding Your Majesty has come to, but we did nothing shameful. I may be a consort, but I am still a man. I merely spent time with a friend, so I would appreciate it if you did not misconstrue the situation.”

A friend?

Byron?

Of all people, Byron, the man infamous for being unable to keep his hands to himself?

Even if Owen had never cared before, Byron had constantly come to him, rambling endlessly about the beauties he fancied. As a result, Owen knew Byron’s grand romantic history better than anyone.

So what exactly had the two of them been doing behind his back?

‘The moment you think you’ve caught him in your arms, he slips away.’

He had definitely said “caught in my arms.”

What exactly had they been doing?

‘He’s truly charming. Even when you compliment him, he gets angry instead. His words are prickly, yet his expressions are innocent. Naive in some ways, but with sharp little thorns hidden underneath.’

Owen did not know that version of Fria.

The Fria he knew was always frightened, cautious around him, resigned as he opened his body in obedience.

Hearing Byron speak as though he knew the consort better than Owen himself twisted something viciously inside him.

“You let that ‘friend’ hold you, touch you wherever he pleased, even kiss you, and yet you’re claiming all you did was read books?”

“What?”

Fria’s face changed instantly.

Touch him? Kiss him?

Surely Byron would not…

No. That bastard absolutely would.

The joking talk about “friendly kisses” had not been a joke at all.

The moment Fria realized it, his mind went blank.

‘My friend… You truly deserve execution.’

“Asleep and unaware? If that is the excuse you intend to make, don’t bother. Not only did you repeatedly meet with an unrelated man while forgetting your position as my consort, you even fell asleep carelessly enough to invite such treatment. Tell me, do you still have anything left to say in your defense?”

If Byron had truly done such things, and Owen had witnessed them, then there was indeed little room left for excuses.

If Owen wished to accuse him of failing to conduct himself properly as a consort, then however unfair it felt, Fria could hardly deny it.

To become a consort against his will was bad enough.

Now he was even being suspected of an affair with another man.

What miserable fate was this?

If he had truly wanted to cheat, he would have done so long ago. Women were everywhere in the palace, why would he specifically choose a man?

And Byron, what a useless “protector” he had turned out to be. He had boasted endlessly about backing Fria up, yet in the end he had only dragged both of them into danger.

If he wanted to play games, he should have done so where no one could see.

“From this day onward, we are best friends. Today is day one.”

Byron had even counted the days aloud, grinning shamelessly.

Day five. Day ten.

He had acted so embearassingly affectionate, yet their friendship had not even survived half a month before ending like this.

Remembering Byron’s overly smooth but warm smile, Fria felt a pang in his chest.

“It must have been a joke. Byron did not even know I was a consort, and he has always had a mischievous personality. I am certain he only meant it in jest. Please direct your anger at me instead, and spare him any cruel punishment. I was the one who first hid my identity and suggested we become friends. This is my fault.”

The casual way the consort spoke Byron’s name made Owen’s insides twist again.

How close were they?

How well did Fria know him, to speak of his “usual personality” so naturally?

Had Byron truly meant that much to him, enough that Fria approached him first and hid his identity just to remain by his side?

Had anyone else criticized Byron in front of Owen, he would have dismissed them immediately.

But hearing the consort defend Byron was unbearable.

Once was enough to make his stomach churn.

“Do you even know what kind of person that ‘friend’ of yours is?”

“I heard he serves as acting prime minister.”

“Yes. Acting prime minister. The son of Duke Perma, the empire’s prime minister.”

So that was why Byron had always seemed so confident.

With the backing of both his father and his “high-ranking relative,” perhaps his future truly was secure.

The instant Fria’s expression brightened, Owen smiled coldly and continued.

“And Duke Perma is also my maternal uncle. Which means Byron is my cousin.”

Maternal uncle…

Cousin…

Then the powerful relative Byron had spoken of was…

The emperor himself?

The countless casual remarks Fria had made about Owen to Byron flashed through his mind all at once, turning his thoughts white.

“Now do you understand what you’ve done?”

Satisfaction flickered in Owen’s eyes as he watched Fria’s stricken expression.

“…”

Yes.

He had nothing to say.

Owen heard the dry swallow catch in Fria’s throat.

“You told Byron you were the physician of the Sparrow Palace? I never realized you possessed such talents.”

Fria had not truly been a physician, but he had certainly played the part. He had even mixed medicine for Owen when the emperor fell ill.

In a way, meeting Byron had happened because of Owen in the first place.

‘It’s your fault.’

But as a mere consort, Fria could not say such things aloud. The helplessness of his position felt especially bitter now.

“A mere consort concealed his identity and nearly shattered the trust between cousins.”

What absurd exaggeration.

Owen spoke as though Fria had deliberately approached Byron with malicious intent.

At this point, he might as well accuse him of espionage too.

“How do you intend to resolve this matter? Answer me.”

In the end, Fria knew the result was still his fault.

Had he not hidden his identity from the beginning, none of this would have happened.

But what else had he been supposed to do that night?

At first, he had only wanted to avoid causing trouble.

He never expected to meet Byron again.

And even after they reunited, revealing his identity had never seemed possible.

How could he casually confess that he, a perfectly healthy man, had been forced to become the emperor’s consort because his homeland lacked power?

Fria had needed somewhere to breathe.

He held no ill feelings toward the maids constantly by his side, but they alone could not soothe the loneliness of living in a foreign land, the emptiness that overwhelmed him, or the anxiety of uncertain days.

He had wanted someone he could truly talk to.

He never fully understood what lay beneath Byron’s smiling, slippery facade, nor how much was sincerity and how much was teasing.

But when he was with Byron, Fria could stop being a consort and simply become an ordinary man again.

And now Owen was trampling all over those precious memories.

Shattering trust between relatives?

What grand nonsense.

The injustice, humiliation, resentment, and sorrow welled together until tears gathered in Fria’s eyes.

“Your reckless-”

Owen had been about to shout that Fria’s recklessness could have endangered Byron himself.

But then…

Why?

The moment he saw the tears shining in Fria’s eyes, something heavy dropped inside his chest.

The words died on his tongue.

Instead, only the final fragment escaped him.

“…do you truly not understand?”

Fria said nothing.

He did not even let the tears fall, merely held them there silently.

The sight made Owen’s chest tighten painfully.

As if something were pressing down upon it.

As if he could barely breathe.

What right did he have to cry?

“Do you truly not understand what you did wrong?”

The accusation sounded forced, clumsy.

Owen had been born a prince.

He had never once learned how to comfort another person.

“I know. Everything is my fault.”

Biting his lip, Fria met the emperor’s gaze directly.

There was no point arguing with someone unwilling to listen.

“Then punish me as you see fit. I will obey.”

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