Chapter 8

“…Don’t tell me.”

Narrowing his eyes in disbelief, Clyde carefully leaned back to check. Exactly as he suspected, Aiden had completely passed out in his arms. He had literally fallen asleep standing up, yet he didn’t look uncomfortable in the slightest; in fact, his sleeping face was more serene and peaceful than Clyde had ever seen it.

“Admiral Rosley?”

“…”

“Aiden?”

He called his name multiple times, but absolutely no response came.

Hah. A breath of sheer disbelief escaped Clyde. Bizarrely enough, the dark, suffocating shadows that had just consumed his heart seemed to vanish all at once.

“Haa, seriously… Admiral Rosley, aren’t you trusting me a little too much?”

Both back then, and right now.

“I was losing my mind over you saying you didn’t need to find me. What if I had done something drastic? How can you fall asleep so defenselessly?”

Of course, he had absolutely zero intention of actually doing anything drastic. Clyde gently shifted his grip, adjusting his posture so Aiden could sleep more comfortably against him.

The soft, rhythmic sound of Aiden’s breathing tickled Clyde’s ear. As total silence claimed the garden, Clyde cautiously, reverently whispered his name.

“Aiden.”

Still, no answer returned. Taking a slow, deep breath, Clyde calmly confessed the words he had locked away in his heart from the exact moment Aiden said he wouldn’t search for him.

“Your decision to bury me in your memories rather than look for me—I understand, and I will respect it. Therefore, I won’t reveal that I am your first love, or that I am the child who showed you the sea.”

Even as he spoke the vow, a corner of his heart burned with agonizing pain. But if this was what Aiden truly wanted, Clyde could easily endure this level of suffering.

It was infinitely better than the years he spent desperately longing for a boy whose name he didn’t even know.

“Unlike you, I was incapable of forgetting my first love, so I searched for you everywhere… I’m a pathetic fool whose heart still beats painfully fast every single time I look at you.”

The whispered vow, sworn to the silent night, was overwhelmingly saturated with profound, desperate affection.

“I will wait until you fall in love with me all over again, just like you did back then.”

Instead of kissing him, Clyde gently, agonizingly traced the line of Aiden’s lips with his thumb. The soft, damp sensation lingered against his skin for a fleeting second before he pulled away.

“Now then, what am I supposed to do with you?”

He couldn’t exactly carry an unconscious Aiden back into the crowded ballroom, but waking him up felt equally impossible. Just as Clyde was falling into a deep dilemma—

“Admiral! Where are you, sir?!”

“Admiral. Don’t tell me you secretly went home without us?!”

Voices desperately searching for Aiden drifted into Clyde’s ears. It sounded like his adjutants. Judging that they were trustworthy enough to hand Aiden over to, Clyde recalled their names and turned his head toward the approaching voices.

“Are you Major Logan Donovan and Captain Jerome Landbery, Admiral Rosley’s adjutants?”

“…!”

“…Yes, that is correct, sir.”

They must have been incredibly close, because the stunned answer returned almost immediately.

“I am currently unable to move. Could you come over here?”

“Are you, by any chance… His Grace the Grand Duke?”

“I am.”

“Yes, Understood.”

Following a flurry of frantic footsteps, the two officers burst out from the darkness of the garden path.

“Your Grace! Are you alright?!”

Both men had their hands firmly gripped around the hilts of their swords, adopting highly aggressive stances that screamed they were fully prepared to slice an assassin in half at a moment’s notice. Letting out a short sigh of amusement, Clyde quickly de-escalated the situation.

“Do not worry. You may approach.”

Refusing to completely drop their guard, the two men cautiously advanced toward Clyde.

“Huh…?”

With every step that closed the distance, their expressions underwent a violently dramatic transformation. The moment they stepped close enough to clearly identify the figures in the shadows, a strangled shriek of pure horror erupted into the night air.

“Admiral?!”

The sight greeting them was so utterly incomprehensible their brains practically short-circuited. Grand Duke Clyde was standing in a highly awkward, rigid posture, while their terrifying superior, Admiral Aiden, was deeply and peacefully asleep, buried securely in the Grand Duke’s arms.

Desperate to correct the glitch in their reality, they violently rubbed their eyes, but the hallucination refused to vanish.

“Y-Your Grace. What on earth is…”

The question trailed off, utterly paralyzed by a thousand horrifying implications. A distinct flavor of sheer terror laced their voices—the terror that their Admiral might have been subjected to some unspeakable assault. Cutting effortlessly through their chaotic panic, Clyde delivered the verdict.

“I believe Admiral Rosley is drunk.”

“Excuse me?!”

The eyes staring at Clyde trembled violently with absolute denial. That’s completely impossible. Muttering the denial under his breath, Logan immediately stepped forward to correct the record.

“I apologize, Your Grace, but the Admiral does not allow a single drop of alcohol to touch his lips.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is an absolute fact. I have served the Admiral for many years, and he has never consumed alcohol on a single occasion.”

It was a fiercely adamant, unshakeable declaration. Only then did Clyde fully understand why Aiden had been pounding his chest and screaming in such profound, genuine injustice about not being drunk. Haa. A deep, amused sigh melted into the humid air.

“Then how exactly did this happen?”

Clyde lowered his gaze to look at Aiden. He was still dead to the world, and with every soft exhalation, a faint, sweet scent of peaches drifted into the air. Initially, Clyde had assumed he simply gorged himself on peach desserts, but given the adjutants’ absolute certainty, the situation was highly suspicious. After a moment of rapid deduction, Clyde asked the critical question.

“Did either of you witness Admiral Rosley drinking a peach-flavored beverage inside the ballroom?”

While Logan shook his head in total ignorance, Jerome nodded vigorously.

“If you mean peach juice, yes, sir. It is incredibly sweet and delicious, so I personally recommended it to him.”

When Clyde’s brow furrowed in sudden realization, Logan asked with a spike of anxiety.

“Your Grace. Is there a problem?”

“That juice. I strongly suspect the peach juice was heavily mixed with alcohol.”

“What?!”

Logan’s murderous glare instantly snapped toward Jerome, who was standing there looking completely oblivious. Knowing exactly what violent thoughts were running through the Major’s head, Clyde chuckled softly.

“It seems our dear Admiral has a catastrophically low alcohol tolerance and became heavily intoxicated.”

Still snickering at the sheer absurdity of it all, Clyde added the final nail in the coffin. “And it appears that neither the Admiral himself, nor you two, were aware of that fact.”

Logan let out a devastating, soul-crushing groan of realization. Quickly masking his despair, he looked at Clyde with deeply apologetic, terrified eyes.

“Did our Admiral… perhaps commit some grievous disrespect against Your Grace while intoxicated…?”

“He merely told me I was handsome and fell asleep in my arms, so you needn’t worry.”

Objectively speaking, Aiden had committed several acts that could easily warrant being dragged to the Imperial Dungeons for ‘Lese-majeste’, but Clyde slowly shook his head, burying the truth. He wanted the conversations they shared tonight to remain a sacred, absolute secret between the two of them.

“Regardless, I have a favor to ask of you two.”

“Yes, please command us, Your Grace.”

“Could you escort Admiral Rosley back to his Marquisate?”

Offering a gentle, disarming smile, Clyde continued. “I would love nothing more than to escort him home myself, but currently, the eyes of every noble in that ballroom are intensely focused on the two of us.”

“Yes, of course, Your Grace. We will handle it.”

With agonizingly careful, delicate movements, Clyde detached the sleeping Aiden from his chest. Logan and Jerome immediately moved in, draping Aiden’s arms over their shoulders to support his weight. Despite the chaotic jostling, Aiden remained completely limp, blissfully lost in dreamland.

Ah, so once he falls asleep, he truly wouldn’t notice even if someone kidnapped him. A faint, hopelessly fond smile tugged at the corners of Clyde’s mouth.

“Then, Your Grace, we shall take our leave.”

“Go ahead.”

Just as the two adjutants bowed and turned to haul their unconscious Admiral toward the carriages, a final thought flashed through Clyde’s mind, and he called out to stop them.

“Actually, there is one more favor I must ask of you…”

***

“Ugh…”

It felt as if someone had brutally smashed his skull with a bludgeon. He had endured countless agonies throughout his life, but this specific brand of torment was entirely new. Groaning pitifully, Aiden forced his heavy eyelids open.

“Where…”

Through his blurry vision, familiar shapes slowly sharpened into focus. The grand window allowing the perfect amount of sunlight to spill in, the vibrantly painted walls, the framed Imperial commission parchment, and finally, the stuffed toys his nieces and nephews had gifted him resting on the table.

It was his bedroom.

Aiden immediately kicked off the blankets to inspect himself. He was dressed in his comfortable pajamas.

“…What exactly happened?”

He vividly remembered attending the Navy Charity Party, drinking that peach juice, and stepping outside because a strange heat had boiled up inside him. However, his memory cut off abruptly right there; he couldn’t recall a single detail about how he had returned home.

“What the hell happened last night?”

In his entire life, he had never once blacked out and lost his senses. Not even when he lost a comrade right beside him, and not even when he had taken a bullet. Therefore, this was a critically serious issue.

Pressing his fingers against his violently throbbing temples, Aiden tugged the bell pull. A short while later, a knock echoed through the room.

“Enter.”

At his permission, the heavy oak door swung open.

“Admiral. Are you awake, sir?”

The person stepping into the room wasn’t the butler, but his adjutant, Logan.

“Hmm?”

Logan wasn’t scheduled to report in until tomorrow. Why on earth was he here today? Tilting his head in confusion, Aiden quickly straightened his posture. Since Logan had attended the party as well, there was a high chance he knew exactly what had transpired last night.

“Logan.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“Do you, by any chance, know what happened to me last night?”

A deep sigh slipped past Logan’s lips at the question. “Admiral. Do you truly have no recollection of last night’s events?”

“I remember stepping out into the gardens, but everything after that is a complete blank.”

“I see.” Exhaling a short, steadying breath, Logan delivered the report. “After you exited the ballroom, you did not return. Concerned, Captain Landbery and I searched the gardens and found you fast asleep. You were heavily intoxicated.”

“What?!”

The question erupted as a borderline shriek. The crimson eyes locked onto Logan shook violently with shock, but the adjutant merely offered a slow, confirming nod.

The sunlight pouring through the window was undeniably bright, and the air filling his lungs was warm, yet Aiden felt as if his body temperature was plummeting, abandoning him in the middle of a brutal blizzard.

“I-I never drank a single drop of alcohol… How could I p-possibly be drunk?!”

Stammering uncharacteristically, Aiden’s voice cracked. Looking as though he completely understood the panic, Logan answered in a profoundly soothing tone.

“You recall the peach beverage Captain Landbery recommended to you, sir?”

“Yes. I remember.”

The drink Jerome had offered was packed with peaches, making it incredibly sweet and refreshing. Wait a minute… didn’t I start feeling strangely hot after downing a few glasses of that?

“Don’t tell me.”

“Yes, sir. That peach beverage contained a substantial amount of alcohol. It appears you became intoxicated after consuming it.”

Aiden buried his face in both hands. A heavy, despairing groan leaked through his fingers. To think he had gotten completely blackout drunk off a tiny amount of alcohol. It was utterly baffling.

Right at that moment—

“Wrongeeed…? …hug? …druuunk…”

A highly bizarre, sharply fragmented memory flashed through Aiden’s mind. A wave of dread washed over him. Slowly lowering his hands, he asked cautiously.

“Um… Logan?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“I didn’t happen to do anything… stupid while I was drunk, did I?”

“You were simply sitting in a gazebo, fast asleep, sir.”

Then what on earth was that memory fragment? Biting his lip anxiously, Aiden pressed for confirmation.

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes, sir. There was absolutely no one around until we arrived. And naturally, we did not encounter anyone on our way out.”

It was a remarkably firm, unwavering answer. The brown eyes meeting his were perfectly steady.

I suppose so…

There was absolutely no reason for Logan, of all people, to lie to him. That bizarre memory had to be exactly that—a hallucination brought on by the alcohol. Exhaling a massive sigh of relief, Aiden relaxed.

“It was toward the end of the party, so the majority of the guests had already departed. Thanks to that, there were no witnesses. Furthermore, Count George was highly intoxicated himself, so he remains completely oblivious to the situation.”

“Right, thank goodness. Did you and Jerome carry me home?”

“Yes, we did, sir.”

“Thank you. You both suffered a lot for my sake.”

Logan shook his head, insisting it was only his duty. Glancing briefly at the clock resting on the table, he spoke up carefully.

“I apologize, Admiral, but may I take my leave now?”

“Hmm? Already?”

“I have a rather large mountain of paperwork to process. I shall return tomorrow.”

“Right, see you tomorrow.”

Given permission, Logan swiftly exited the bedroom, plunging the space back into a heavy silence. Letting out a long breath, Aiden roughly smoothed down his messy hair and pulled the bell cord once more. This time, the butler entered.

“I’d like to take a walk and then have a bath.”

“Yes, Young Master. I will prepare it immediately.”

The moment the butler stepped out, maids filed into the room carrying fresh clothes, as if they had been waiting right outside. Aiden changed and headed out to the gardens. Truthfully, he desperately wanted to do some intense physical training, but the sheer terror of facing his father’s and the doctor’s relentless nagging forced him to abandon the idea.

After a long, refreshing walk, Aiden headed straight for the bathroom. Emerging after a lengthy soak, he found Butler Thomas waiting for him. The older man was holding a glass of thick, red liquid in one hand and an envelope in the other.

“Young Master, please drink this. It is fresh tomato juice.”

“Tomato juice?”

As Aiden scrunched up his nose in distaste, Thomas spoke with a sly, conspiratorial wink.

“Do not worry, sir. No one else knows about this except me. Not even the Master.”

Exhaling a small sigh, Aiden accepted the glass and took a sip. Thomas must have packed it with an absurd amount of vegetables, because alongside the tomato flavor, an indescribably fresh, earthy taste flooded his mouth. Barely managing to swallow the entire concoction, Aiden gasped.

“Thomas, what on earth did you put in this besides tomatoes?”

“Various vegetables highly effective for curing hangovers, sir. I prepared it myself in secret to avoid the chef’s notice.”

So that’s why it tasted like wet dirt. Chuckling in disbelief, Aiden handed the empty glass back.

“Anyway, is that letter for me?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Who is it from?”

At the question, the corners of Thomas’s mouth twitched upward into a knowing grin.

“It is a letter sent by His Grace, Grand Duke Clyde.”