Chapter 3

Afternoon sunlight poured through the glass windows, flooding the drawing room in a warm, golden haze. As if heralding the arrival of spring, the gentle breeze slipping through the cracked window carried a faint, sweet floral scent.

“I suppose proper introductions are in order,” Clyde began, his deeply resonant voice washing over the quiet room. “It is a profound honor to finally meet the hero of the Empire, Admiral Aiden Rosley, in person.”

Placing a hand gracefully over his heart, Clyde offered a slight, impeccably polite bow. Instantly snapping to attention, Aiden delivered a crisp military salute.

“Not at all, Your Grace. The honor is entirely mine.” Perhaps because his identity as a soldier had temporarily taken over, a tense stiffness threaded through his low, ear-pleasing voice. However, out of sheer habit, a faint, almost melodic charm lingered at the tail end of his words.

Still exactly the same. Clyde chuckled internally, meeting Aiden’s gaze head-on. Those vivid, ruby-red eyes were brimming with the exact same blend of wariness and sharp curiosity that they had held on that day so long ago.

“I hope my unannounced visit hasn’t put you in a difficult position, Admiral.”

“No, Your Grace. It is perfectly fine.”

“I’m relieved to hear that.” Clyde smiled, his eyes curving into those devastating crescents. It was the same brilliantly refreshing smile he had flashed in the foyer.

To think the universe had perfectly manifested his exact physical type, only to hand him over as a forced marriage partner. Aiden honestly couldn’t tell if he should be thanking the gods or cursing them.

Aiden Rosley. What the hell are you thinking right now?!

He was being dragged to the frozen wasteland of the North specifically because this man lived there; he absolutely should be cursing them! Desperate to physically shake away his treacherous thoughts, Aiden violently whipped his head back and forth. He shook it so hard his vision briefly whited out.

“Ugh,” Aiden groaned, pressing a hand to his throbbing forehead.

“Admiral? Are you alright?”

“I—It’s nothing. A bug landed on my head, so I was just shaking it off… I’m perfectly fine now.” Aiden awkwardly swatted at his own hair for emphasis.

Clyde let out a low, rumbling chuckle and picked up his glass. 

Clink. 

The crisp sound of ice gently striking crystal drifted through the air. “A bug must have flown in since the window is open.” Tossing out the casual excuse, Clyde crossed his legs and leaned back comfortably against the sofa cushions.

As the Grand Duke fell silent, a heavy quiet descended upon the drawing room.

Didn’t he come here because he had something to say?

Sipping his lemon honey tea, Aiden scrutinized the man sitting across from him. Clyde simply sat there, a serene smile playing on his lips, staring fixedly at Aiden without a word. Why on earth had he come all this way? While Aiden was desperately trying to decipher the silent Grand Duke’s intentions, a memory clicked into place.

…Wait a minute. 

His conversation with Logan yesterday suddenly surfaced.

“Admiral. About your prospective partner, His Grace Grand Duke Clyde.”

“Watch your mouth, Logan. Nothing is finalized yet. We’ll find out tomorrow.”

“If you hadn’t blatantly disobeyed a direct imperial order in the first place, we wouldn’t be—Ahem. Regardless, rumor has it that His Grace relocated to the North entirely of his own volition, not by His Majesty’s decree.”

If that rumor was true, it meant the decision of ‘where to live’ rested entirely in the Grand Duke’s hands. In other words, if Aiden could just convince Clyde to move back to the capital, they could naturally continue residing here.

The Emperor’s exact order was to move to ‘the North where the Grand Duke lives,’ not just ‘the North’ as a blanket statement.

You really think I’m going to let you drag me away that easily, you loophole-leaving old geezers? Aiden giggled internally, a wicked scheme forming. No matter what it takes, I will persuade him.

He refused to return to that godforsaken, freezing hellscape where the sun rarely bothered to shine, the cold actively tried to flay your skin off, and grotesque monsters screeched into the night.

Taking a slow, centering breath, Aiden opened the negotiations. “Your Grace.”

Clyde offered a slow nod, as if giving him permission to speak freely. The subtle motion made his long, pale eyelashes flutter softly.

“If I may ask, how do you feel about this arranged marriage?”

“Hmm. It is quite sudden, so I admit I am a bit bewildered, but…” Clyde trailed off, his languid, heavy-lidded gaze roaming over Aiden’s features. The moment their eyes locked in the space between them, Clyde’s gaze softened, his eyes curving into an amused smile. “Who in their right mind would refuse when the hero of the Empire is being offered as their husband?”

“Ah.”

“Why do you ask? Do you perhaps find me lacking? Given my appearance, I’d wager I wouldn’t be terrible to keep around.” Resting his chin lightly on his knuckles, Clyde looked up through his lashes. Those breathtakingly bright blue eyes pinned Aiden in place, practically broadcasting that the man knew exactly how lethal his own charm was. “I’ve never once been told I’m ugly. Or is my face simply not to your taste?”

A single, brilliant ray of sunlight illuminated the sharp angle of Clyde’s tilted cheek. It was a sight so staggeringly beautiful that the lie—you aren’t my type—died in Aiden’s throat.

“…If I had to specify, you are exactly my type.” Aiden barely managed to force the confession out, his eyes darting away to stare at the wall.

At the flustered reaction, Clyde’s faint smile deepened. He elegantly traced a bead of condensation sliding down his glass with a long, elegant finger. “Then that works out perfectly. I quite like you as well, Admiral Rosley. Besides, getting married will drastically reduce the number of annoying nuisances in my life.”

Aiden didn’t even need to ask to know exactly what ‘annoying nuisances’ he meant. Pressure to marry, obviously. It must have been particularly agonizing for Clyde, given his status as both an Imperial Prince and a Grand Duke. But the second the rings were exchanged, all those nagging elders would instantly vanish. Furthermore, since his new husband would be deployed at sea for more than half the year, they’d rarely even cross paths.

Clyde had everything to gain from this arrangement. Because of that, Aiden figured the man would be highly amenable to a tiny, insignificant request. Forcing his racing heart to calm down, Aiden adopted his most polite, diplomatic tone.

“Your Grace. Once we are wed… do you have any intention of returning to the capital?”

“The capital…” Clyde mused softly, delicately dabbing his damp fingertips with a silk handkerchief. Every minute movement he made dripped with innate aristocratic grace. “Do you wish to continue residing in the capital, Admiral?”

“I do.”

“Why on earth would you want that?”

The sheer absurdity of the question literally struck Aiden speechless. Was there a single human being alive who wouldn’t want to live in the capital, where the weather was warm and the ocean stretched out in brilliant azure perfection? As far as Aiden knew, such a person did not exist.

“Don’t tell me… Your Grace actually intends to keep living in the North?”

“Of course I do.” The answer was instantaneous, utterly devoid of hesitation.

A strangled sound of utter disbelief escaped Aiden’s lips. “Why on earth would you want to live in the North?!”

“Hmm. The monsters howling at night can be a bit noisy, but it’s cool and refreshing. A truly wonderful place to live.”

The North is a wonderful place to live… It was objectively the most bizarre, incomprehensible string of words Aiden had ever heard in his entire life. He stared at the man, his brow furrowing in deep confusion. “Logically speaking, isn’t the capital—where you can bask in warm sunlight—infinitely better than the North, where the wind literally feels like knives?”

“I’d classify the capital as ‘hot’ rather than ‘warm,'” Clyde countered smoothly. “And I absolutely despise the heat.”

“And I’d classify the North as ‘freezing’ rather than ‘cool’! I absolutely despise the cold!”

Clyde tilted his head, looking genuinely perplexed by Aiden’s stance. “There are far too many people in the capital. It’s downright suffocating.”

“Dealing with a crowd of people is a hundred—no, a thousand times better than living alongside disgusting mons—”

Aiden abruptly cut himself off.

“What are you talking about? Being cold is so much better.” 

“No, being hot is way better!”

Cold and heat.

“Do you have any idea how many people drop dead from heatstroke in the capital?” 

“Well, by that logic, people literally freeze to death in the North!”

The Capital and the North.

“I’d rather live somewhere crawling with monsters than be stuck in a place packed with this many terrifyingly awful people.” 

“You’ve never even seen a monster, have you? The second you look at one of those disgusting things, you’ll change your tune instantly.”

People and monsters.

This back-and-forth… it perfectly mirrored the argument he had with that strange child during their very first meeting, a memory buried under years of time. As Aiden stared blankly into space, entirely lost in the past, Clyde leaned forward, his eyes clouded with genuine concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill?”

Clyde’s soft voice shattered the reverie, making Aiden jolt in his seat.

“N-No, I am perfectly fine.” Aiden shook his head aggressively, immediately locking the memories away. Resolving his current, waking nightmare was vastly more important than reminiscing about the past. “Regardless, dealing with people is infinitely better than dealing with monsters.”

As Aiden lifted his chin in stubborn defiance, Clyde murmured something in a voice so low it barely registered.

“…I suppose I’ll need to prepare more thoroughly, then.”

“Excuse me? What did you just say?”

When Aiden pressed him, Clyde merely offered a dismissive smile and shook his head, claiming it was nothing. Yet, a heavy, unsettling dread began to pool in Aiden’s stomach.

“Don’t tell me… did you come all this way just to argue with me?”

“Of course not.” Clyde offered a blindingly bright smile and took a slow sip of his coffee. 

Click. 

The sound of the porcelain cup settling against the saucer rang clearly in the quiet room.

“I simply came because I was deeply curious about the man who is destined to become my husband.”

“A-And? Do you feel you’ve figured me out?”

“I certainly do.” The eyes holding the vast blue sea curved into stunning, fluid crescents. The man sitting across from him was his absolute polar opposite in every conceivable way, yet his physical appearance was so flawlessly aligned with Aiden’s tastes it was infuriating. “I have a feeling that if I marry you, Admiral Rosley, we will live a very long, very happy life together.”

The glaring issue, of course, was that he was spouting utter lunacy with that devastatingly handsome face.

Aiden clicked his tongue internally, completely baffled by the Grand Duke’s incomprehensible leap in logic. He’s lived in the North for so long that his brain has completely frozen over.

“So, it’s settled. When we wed, you will join me in the North.”

“What are you talking about? I just said I want to live in the capital.”

“Admiral Rosley. Did His Majesty not explicitly order you to live in the North with me?”

“I apologize, Your Grace, but I am not exactly known as an obedient subject who flawlessly follows orders.” If I were an obedient subject, I wouldn’t be dealing with this massive headache right now; I’d be out sailing the blue sea.

As Aiden offered a nonchalant shrug, the corners of Clyde’s mouth twitched. A second later, the Grand Duke burst into genuine, unrestrained laughter.

Did this bastard just lose his mind…? Aiden swallowed back the vicious curse fighting its way up his throat.

Finally catching his breath, Clyde wiped a tear of mirth from his eye, his voice still thick with amusement. “I must admit, I am incredibly fond of that particular aspect of yours, Admiral.”

“Pardon?”

“Truth be told, I’m not exactly an obedient son who flawlessly follows orders, either.”

“Ah. Is that right?” Yeah, no kidding. What kind of person just quietly accepts a forced marriage from their father? As if reading Aiden’s exact thoughts, Clyde offered a sly, knowing smirk.

“However, I have decided to unconditionally obey the order to marry you.”

“What do you—”

“I told you. I like you, Admiral Rosley.”

I’m running away. Wedding or no wedding, Imperial order be damned, he was going to escape no matter what. The exact moment those words left Clyde’s mouth, Aiden etched that vow into his soul.

***

“I had a truly wonderful time today, Admiral. May I come visit you again?”

“Of course.” Aiden forced a strained, painfully stiff laugh, utilizing every muscle in his face to drag the corners of his mouth upward.

What he wanted to say was, ‘I hated every second of it, please never speak to me again,’ but the man standing before him was a Grand Duke. And his prospective husband.

If he made even the slightest misstep here, the odds of his father catching wind of his rebellion before he could finalize his escape plan would skyrocket. Therefore, for the time being, he had to act the part of the gracious, perfectly polite host.

“Your leg must still be causing you a great deal of pain, yet you insisted on seeing me out. Thank you.”

“Not at all. The star of the Empire, His Grace the Grand Duke, personally took the time to visit someone as lowly as myself. What does a minor leg injury matter…? I consider it my absolute duty to offer you at least this level of courtesy.”

It was a horrifyingly bizarre amalgamation of extreme politeness and self-deprecation—the kind of sentence that would prompt Logan to immediately ask, ‘Admiral, did you sustain a severe head injury during the last skirmish?’

Right as Aiden finished forcing the unnatural words through his teeth—

Pfft. 

A very distinct, barely muffled snort of laughter drifted down from above. Utterly refusing to believe the sound that had just assaulted his eardrums, Aiden’s head snapped up.

Bathing in the warm sunlight, the gorgeous man was staring intently at the sky, one hand clamped firmly over his mouth. The corner of his lips, which he hadn’t fully managed to hide, was trembling violently.

“…Your Grace. Is there a problem?”

“Mmm, my apologies. The corner of my mouth suddenly felt a bit itchy.” The voice delivering the world’s most pathetic, unbelievable lie was vibrating with suppressed mirth.

This arrogant bastard dares to mock my suffering?! Grinding his teeth so hard his jaw ached, Aiden aimed a venomous glare at Clyde.

However, the second Clyde lowered his gaze back to him, Aiden seamlessly swapped the glare for a serene, picture-perfect smile, acting as if the murderous intent had never existed. Clyde stared at that painted-on smile for a long moment before letting out a soft, genuine laugh.

“I really must be going now. Please, get plenty of rest.”

“Have a safe journey, Your Grace.” And let us never cross paths again. Swallowing the words he desperately wished to scream, Aiden maintained his agonizingly polite facade until the very end.

“That should be enough to convince the old man I behaved myself,” Aiden muttered under his breath, finally dropping the smile as he spun on his heel to re-enter the mansion.

“Huh…?”

Standing dead center in the foyer—which had been completely empty mere seconds ago—was his father, Marquis Lucen. The older man was staring him down, hands planted firmly on his hips. The instant their eyes met, a tidal wave of pure dread slammed into Aiden.

Gulp. The heavy sound of Aiden swallowing echoed loudly.

A low, utterly merciless voice filled the foyer. “Grab him.”

“Yes, Master.”

On cue, four very familiar, impossibly burly men advanced on Aiden. He scrambled frantically backward, but his injured leg betrayed him. The men seized him, expertly binding his arms to prevent any struggle before hoisting him over their shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

“Father! What the hell is this all of a sudden?! Go ask His Grace! I was on my best behavior! I was the pinnacle of politeness!”

“Tsk. You think I don’t know exactly what’s going through that head of yours?” Marquis Lucen clicked his tongue, reaching out to pinch Aiden’s cheek—firmly, but without enough force to bruise.

“Ow!” A pathetic groan slipped from Aiden’s lips. “Why are you pinching me?!”

“Because you, you ungrateful punk, are doing nothing but plotting your grand escape without realizing how much your father cares for you.”

Dropping his hand, Marquis Lucen signaled the men to move out. The brutes immediately broke into a brisk march toward the stairs. Even dangling upside down, Aiden refused to surrender.

“You’re forcing me into an arranged marriage AND exiling me to the frozen wastelands of the North! Do you honestly expect me to just bow my head and say, ‘Ah, yes, thank you so much, Father’?!”

“Unlike you, I am a loyal subject who actually obeys imperial commands.” The Marquis’s face was plastered with a deeply mocking sneer, acting as if he was entirely blameless in this tragedy.

Getting betrayed by his own flesh and blood stung in a way that made Aiden inexplicably furious and wronged.

How can you do this to your precious youngest son? As Aiden stuck his bottom lip out in a furious pout, Marquis Lucen reached out to gently smooth back his son’s hair. The touch was overflowing with undeniable, frustrating affection.

“You just don’t understand, Aiden. I’m doing all of this because I love you.”

“What kind of deranged, psychological nonsense is that?! What kind of lunatic locks someone up because they love them?!”

“I am exactly that kind of lunatic! Haha!”

The Marquis’s booming, utterly unapologetic laughter rattled the chandelier. You crazy old geezer! While Aiden swallowed a string of colorful curses, the group finally arrived at their destination: the fifth floor.

Creak. 

The heavy oak door swung open.

Scanning the space he was unceremoniously dumped into, Aiden realized it was less of a room and more of a fully furnished luxury apartment. It boasted a small but elegant drawing room for receiving guests, a private study centered around a massive oak desk, a bedroom dominated by a plush, cloud-like bed, and a sprawling en-suite bathroom.

Not a single speck of dust drifted through the pristine air, and the entire space was perfumed with a warm, relaxing scent. It was an environment that violently clashed with the concept of ‘imprisonment.’

“Put him down.”

Following the Marquis’s barked order, the men carefully deposited Aiden onto his feet and backed out into the hall.

“Don’t even entertain the thought of leaving this room until your wedding day,” the Marquis delivered his final, heartless verdict before turning his back.

Thud. 

The heavy door slammed shut with aggressive finality. A split second later, the distinct, metallic clack of a heavy lock engaging echoed into the room, immediately followed by the low, thrumming hum of someone chanting an incantation.

“No way.”

Aiden scrambled forward, frantically rattling the doorknob and throwing his shoulder against the heavy wood. It didn’t budge a millimeter. In fact, the harder he threw himself against it, the denser and more unyielding the door seemed to become. It was a high-tier barricade spell—the exact same magic the Imperial Palace used to secure high-treason felons.

“Father! Do you just have gold coins rotting in your vaults?! Who burns money on a maximum-security prison spell just to lock up their own son?!”

Despite his desperate, lung-busting screams, only deafening silence answered him.

A heartless father.

A cruel father.

A father without a single drop of empathy for his youngest child.

Aiden hurled every vicious, rage-inducing insult he could think of, hoping to provoke the old man into opening the door, but the hallway remained completely silent.

Left with zero alternatives, Aiden deployed his absolute last resort. It was embarrassingly childish, but historically, the most effective weapon in his arsenal.

“When Mother gets back to the capital, I’m telling her everything! I’m going to tell her you locked me in a magical prison!”

Even that ultimate threat failed to breach the silence. The hallway remained infuriatingly quiet.

“I’m going to lose my mind.”

It seemed the stubborn old geezer was dead serious about keeping him sealed in here until the wedding.

An imperial decree forcing him into marriage. The devastating news that the Northern sea had frozen over. Clyde’s sudden, suspicious visit. And finally, magical imprisonment. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that all of these catastrophes had occurred within a single twenty-four-hour window. Just mentally listing them sent his stress levels skyrocketing.

“Whatever. Let’s just rest for today.”

Feeling the accumulated physical and mental exhaustion crashing down on him all at once, Aiden dragged his leaden feet toward the bathroom. After standing under a scalding hot shower until his muscles finally unspooled, he collapsed face-first onto the plush mattress and let his eyes fall shut.

There was still time before the wedding. He just needed to rest now, and then he would absolutely, unequivocally find a way to escape before the bells rang.

***