Chapter 81

Leon’s voice trailed off as the memory of that day resurfaced, vivid and sharp. When he had first encountered Elwin, he entered the drawing room struggling to suppress the erratic fluttering of his heart, only to be struck by the sheer state of the mansion. It was a dwelling that, described with the utmost generosity, could be deemed humble, but in truth, it was painfully impoverished.

How could this household possibly dispatch such substantial funds from a place so desolate? Leon wondered. Does he possess no grasp of the reserves within the vault, or did the naive young lord simply incur ruinous debt without a single thought?

As Leon clicked his tongue in silent disdain and claimed a seat at the drawing room table, the Omega lord in question turned and began to openly flutter his eyelashes at the baron’s second son. It was a performance far too clumsy to be considered a practiced seduction, yet the sheer audacity required to attempt such a display in front of guests was startling. Witnessing him behave with such abandon the moment an Alpha noble appeared prompted Leon to question whether the young lord was truly so desperate. It was a pathetic display, yet Leon felt a surge of indignation far sharper than pity. A cold, piercing fury took hold of him, as if his blood had turned to ice.

Is he not humiliated by the very prospect of surrendering the family title to some distant branch? Is any noble with a pulse acceptable to him? To think the late Count worked himself into an early grave for such a shallow vessel of vanity. How utterly unjust.

Driven by a manufactured necessity for indignation, Leon half-deliberately instigated a quarrel with Elwin. He had assumed that Elwin’s pride in flaunting absurd revenue figures to the servant of the Duke of Dwight, coupled with his obstinate refusal to dismiss his younger sister’s governess despite their inability to afford basic sugar, were nothing more than performative displays of aristocratic vanity.

“But before long, I realized that my thoughts were wrong,” Leon admitted. “It did not take much time. Anyone who meets him and speaks with him even briefly would understand how sincere and wise he is.”

Leon soon grasped that his initial assumption—that Elwin craved a high-ranking marriage to secure his status—was a profound misunderstanding. The evidence was plain in the meticulous education he provided his younger sister. The late Count had launched his business ventures for the sole purpose of ensuring his children could pursue their own intellectual passions, and Elwin’s rejection of local suitors stemmed not from a lack of satisfying standards, but from a complete, genuine lack of interest in the institution of marriage itself. An Omega with no desire for a bond? It was an anomaly, yet entirely possible.

For several days following their initial meeting, Leon observed Elwin with the same detached, effortless apathy he applied to all things. Yet, Elwin proved to be an exceptionally rare and captivating subject. Contrary to his intentions, Leon found himself sinking into Elwin’s sphere of influence with frightening speed. When Elwin offered a moment of brilliant insight while reading the newspaper, Leon was struck by his unexpected intelligence; when he grew flustered over the simple handkerchief Leon had lent him, he appeared once more as an innocent, shielded from the world’s machinations. By the time he began teaching Elwin to play cards, Leon realized he genuinely cherished their conversations. Elwin was transparent, upright, and refreshingly honest.

As Leon began to suspect that his former narrow-minded bias was perhaps merely a veil for burgeoning interest, his emotions crystallized. The realization hit him with full force on the day he harvested seedlings alongside Elwin, journeying together into the farming village. Watching him treat the dirt-stained villagers and their children without a shred of hesitation, Leon arrived at an internal, singular conclusion:

This person is fascinating. The time we share is pleasant. I want him at my side for as long as I live.

“That person has no interest in anything except living by his own strength and caring for his estate,” Leon continued, his gaze drifting. “Had he known in advance that I was a prince, he might have inquired about mineral tariff policies or railway development plans, but he would never have shown any personal interest in me. To be honest, the one truly desperate to attract the other’s attention was me.”

Leon was no child; he understood that what he harbored for Elwin surpassed mere human curiosity. He felt an unmistakable pang of jealousy, an emotion he had never possessed for anyone merely ‘interesting.’ When Elwin struggled to present himself well to the Duke of Dwight, Leon had burned with jealousy, yet he was subsequently overcome with pleasure upon realizing that Elwin was incapable of feigning a charm he did not feel. He felt a profound sense of relief whenever Elwin remained indifferent to his former suitors.

Yet, this brought a new, gnawing impatience. Leon feared he might be nothing more than another unremarkable face to Elwin, leaving no resonance in his heart. He wondered how he appeared in that small, thoughtful head, behind those cleverly shining eyes. He wanted Elwin to see him, to think of him, and to look upon him with growing warmth. Every time Leon witnessed that wistfulness bloom in Elwin’s eyes, his own resolve deepened. Their first kiss had been a moment of such transcendent joy that he felt as if he could leap into the sky and race across the world.

“I even thought it would have been easier if he were calculating or quick to look after his own profit,” Leon murmured. “What could be simpler than enticing someone who cares about gain? But he…”

Drawing closer to Elwin brought Leon immense joy, yet it was shadowed by a heavy, persistent guilt. The impending task of revealing his royal identity weighed upon him constantly. A lesser person might have rejoiced at the windfall of learning their lover was a prince, but Elwin was not such a man. Elwin was the type to prioritize the betrayal of deception far above the acquisition of power. Leon had withheld the truth for many reasons—the Queen’s initial orders, the complexity of the political climate—but in the end, he had simply been too terrified of Elwin’s potential reaction to find the words.

“You said my actions in court were a direct pressure on the royal family, and I admit it. I had a desperate desire to burn every bridge behind me—for the sake of the crown, and for him. Mother, once I have asked for your forgiveness, I must go to him and do the same for the lie of my identity.”

Leon shrugged, affecting his signature air of shamelessness, but the genuine anxiety in his eyes betrayed him. The Queen searched his gaze, her expression softening for a moment before she clicked her tongue in renewed irritation.

“No. You claim you are asking for forgiveness, yet you dress your words in prettiness. You did not come to plead; you came to force a negotiation.”

Leon nodded, offering a mischievous, unrepentant grin. “That is correct, Mother. If I may be so bold, I request that you recognize and proclaim our engagement. The order of events has been rather unconventional, but I am certain that once you meet him, Your Majesty will be quite taken with him as well.”

At a demand so brazenly innocent, the Queen appeared momentarily struck speechless. “Do you believe this is merely a minor lapse in protocol? A prince engaging himself without so much as a whisper to his mother? It is all quite transparent. You must have manipulated the situation while the head of that house was away. How, pray tell, am I expected to rectify this mess?”

Contrary to the Queen’s assumption, Leon was not yet formally engaged to Elwin; he had merely unilaterally declared the engagement in court as a fait accompli. He still needed to secure forgiveness and then properly propose. The road ahead was long, but matters were unfolding with unexpected grace. The Queen at least recognized that Leon had engineered this situation entirely of his own volition, and she was moving toward a solution rather than dismissal. Just as Leon began to breathe easier, thinking the final hurdle of persuasion had been cleared…

“Ha… First, I must convene the Royal Advisory Council regarding this matter,” the Queen sighed.

Leon’s expression faltered. The Royal Advisory Council was a stagnant pool of royal elders and high-ranking traditionalists—a gathering of obstinate, doddering men who turned every decision into an eternity of debate.

“The Royal Advisory Council? But when Second Brother Andrew became engaged, it proceeded solely by royal command, without any such council intervention.”

“Andrew adhered to every protocol required before his engagement, so no meeting was necessary. But you, my dear son, are quite a different matter, are you not?”

Leon felt a throb of tension in his temples. If they convened the council now, the process would languish for weeks while the elderly lords crawled in from their distant provinces to voice their tedious opinions. If the process stalled, his gamble in court would have been for nothing. He would have to resort to his final, most desperate stratagem.

Must I truly play that card?

Having decided to cast his final die, Leon assumed an expression of strained, feigned difficulty.

“Mother, I apologize, but I must insist that you confirm this engagement immediately. There is an urgent reason that it cannot be delayed.”

“And what convenient excuse are you crafting now?”

“It is not an excuse, Mother. The truth is… that person is currently pregnant.”