Chapter 76

Reflecting on the past, the signs had been there all along.

Who else but royalty would carry such a refined, crisp accent?

Who else would possess the staggering wealth required to treat precious, enormous jewels as mere trifles, or possess the pedigree of someone who had never seen a public school yet had meticulously mastered everything from Latin to the art of the blade since childhood?

And why, indeed, would a garden vast enough to contain a labyrinth exist at the very heart of the capital, were it not to shield the royal palace from prying eyes?

Come to think of it, Leon had always radiated an inherent dignity that even his garish, flashy attire could not mask. He possessed a confidence that remained unshaken, even when faced with the open disdain of men like Dwight.

Elwin, too, had perpetually sensed a subtle, unnamable strangeness whenever he looked upon him.

Yet, just as one would never expect to encounter a coronation crown gathering dust in a marketplace, Elwin had never once entertained the possibility that a prince had arrived at his home in disguise.

Even after his own ears had heard the truth and his own eyes had verified the absurdity of it, Elwin’s subconscious mind stubbornly rejected the reality of Leon’s identity. While he lay unconscious, his dreams forced him to retrace his steps, cataloging every missed detail. Simultaneously, he was consumed by a frantic, compulsive thought: There is no way Leon is a prince. If word of this reached the public, it would spell catastrophe.

The first vision within his dream transported him to the day before Leon arrived at the count’s estate. Back then, Elwin had been utterly oblivious to the life-altering arrival awaiting him, consumed only by the trivial anxiety of securing the favor of the baron’s second son—the designated heir. As Elwin lamented his uncertain future, his servant Toby had held up a mirror, offering a hollow comfort: “Do not worry, Young Master. If I possessed a face as striking as yours, I would have seduced a prince already.”

At that, the version of Elwin in his dream had replied with a solemn, chilling expression. “What are you saying, Toby? Why on earth would His Highness ever grace our house with his presence? Do you have any idea the peril you invite by speaking so carelessly?”

Shortly thereafter, the dream drifted through the veil of time, depositing him on the day he had visited the rural village with Leon. When Elwin had introduced the man as his friend, the village chief had responded with an unsettling observation: “My, how handsome he is. He overflows with the true dignity of a prince.”

Startled, Elwin had immediately silenced the man. “No, a prince? Surely not. You risk serious repercussions for uttering such treasonous nonsense.”

To that, Leon had merely smiled—a cryptic expression whose weight Elwin could not fathom. Suddenly, the scene fractured, and Elwin found himself amidst the stifling atmosphere of the Finch family tea party. While Elwin cowered in the corner, enduring the biting jeers of his peers, Leon held court at the central table, speaking with an air of affected arrogance. “Do none of you possess an understanding of the capital’s fashions? The Queen favors milk tea with the milk poured first. Her Majesty the Queen and I share a deep intimacy, you see.”

A profound sense of wrongness roiled within him. In reality, Elwin sensed that Leon had not been quite so insufferable, but the fact remained that he had spoken truths he should have guarded. Springs coiled tight in his chest, Elwin had lunged to his feet and cried out, “Mr. Leon! How can you be so reckless with your words?”

Leon had turned, meeting Elwin’s gaze directly. With that same inscrutable smile, he had drawn near. “Reckless? I, of course, have no reason for fear.”

“What… do you mean by that…”

“The one consumed by fear was you. Was it not?”

Afraid? Why would I be afraid?

As Elwin stood bewildered, the dreamscape shifted once more, returning to the courtroom from hours prior. Leon, standing beside him, still wore a look of haughty pride, yet now, a preposterous, shimmering crown sat upon his head. He tilted his chin upward and declared once more, “I am the third prince! Leon…”

To be precise, because Elwin had failed to commit the full name to memory, the declaration of prince rang out like a bell, while the rest of the syllables were swallowed by the murky, rhythmic distortion of a dream. The sound is bizarre; this must be a dream, the dream-Elwin realized, grasping the truth far too late. Leon was now draped in a magnificent mantle of crimson velvet and ermine, his hand resting upon the hilt of a jeweled sword. It was the archetype of a fairy-tale prince. Everyone—even the magistrate upon the bench—had knelt before him, their heads bowed in supplication. Leon approached, bringing his face mere inches from Elwin’s, and whispered, “Do not be shocked. There is no need for fear, Elwin.”

Just as Elwin parted his lips to retort, How could I possibly not be shocked?, Leon opened his mouth and roared in the shrill, piping voice of a child, “Extra! Extra!”

Elwin awoke with a sharp, chilling jolt. His vision swam, rhythmic and blurred. Rattle. Rattle.

Where am I? Inside a carriage?

Before he could regain his senses, the carriage lurched to a halt. A child sprinted to the door, hawking the evening edition. Leon, seated across from him with his hat pulled low, beckoned to the boy. “Might you spare a paper?”

“Yes! Fresh edition, just off the press! One penny, my lord!”

Leon dug into his coat pocket, retrieving a shimmering silver coin, and pressed it into the boy’s palm. “I have only a shilling. Keep the change.”

“Truly? Thank you, my lord!” The boy bowed repeatedly, overcome by his sudden windfall. As Leon sealed the carriage door and turned his attention forward, his eyes locked with Elwin’s. “You have finally awakened, Elwin.”

Elwin did not respond immediately, still anchored to the uncertainty of his own reality. Leon reached out, his touch feather-light against Elwin’s burning cheek. “You gave me quite a scare when you collapsed. The physician cited accumulated exhaustion, which is only natural. I intended to wait until you stirred, but the hour grew late, and we were forced to depart.”

Elwin felt lighter, his deep rest having mitigated his fatigue, yet he knew the true cause of his fainting spell was not weariness, but the sheer, crushing weight of shock. Ah. Shock.

As his focus sharpened, he saw Leon idly flipping through the newspaper. “Let us see. The press is remarkably efficient. The headline is rather dramatic, is it not? Tragic Omega, Lord Elwin Revealed as the Third Prince’s Betrothed!”

Elwin rubbed his eyes, desperate to clear the haze, but the bold print remained. Stunned by the reality of the identity he had desperately tried to disbelieve, Elwin opted for a safer topic. “Um… what of the preliminary hearing? And Mr. Dwight…”

“You are truly cruel. Must you speak the name of another Alpha at a time like this?” Leon pouted, feigning injury. The laughter dancing in his eyes betrayed the performance; he was merely weaving his usual games. That, precisely, was what Elwin felt compelled to challenge. Is this man truly the third prince?

As if he had intercepted the silent query, Leon’s expression softened. “Naturally, Dwight’s detention remains upheld. Regarding your petition for the restoration of your property, the court requested a period of deliberation.”

“Ah.”

“You should have witnessed the icy glares the spectators leveled at the magistrate when he delivered that news. They were incensed on your behalf.”

Elwin lacked such indignation. Normally, his request would have been dismissed outright; it was only Leon’s sudden declaration that had bought him this reprieve. The time had come to confront the bloodline, the title, and the reality. Elwin parted his lips, but the words withered in his throat. Could we not postpone this until tomorrow? I am far too weary for this.

As Elwin turned his gaze toward the window to escape the confrontation, a cold sense of unease gripped him. The landscape outside was unfamiliar, devoid of the winding path to the inn he remembered. Grand stone facades—banks, hotels, and foreign legations—towered over the wide, bustling thoroughfares of the capital’s center. The setting sun bled a deep crimson across the western sky, and they were moving further south, toward the very core of the city. The buildings abruptly fell away, revealing a vast, open square. Beyond it stood a structure that Elwin knew all too well.

“We are arriving at the palace,” Leon murmured with a serene, radiant smile.

Elwin felt his skin crawl. “The palace? Why would we…”

“My mother has summoned us.”

“Y-Your mother would be…”

“Yes. Her Majesty the Queen.”