Chapter 31
By mid-July, the rainy season had begun. Asher gazed hollowly out the window as the rain poured relentlessly all day. There was no doubt—Ember’s behavior had changed significantly since that day. It seemed he, too, acknowledged his mistake and felt remorse. Asher coughed repeatedly, his breath shallow, before letting out a quiet sigh.
“……Haah.”
His condition had only worsened since the night of the ball. His body felt like a waterlogged sponge, sagging and weak, with no sign of recovery. Asher sent Jan to bring him warm tea, and he drank it endlessly, as if it were the only thing keeping him going.
“I have to get better by tomorrow.”
With another deep sigh, Asher stood and walked to the table. He picked up a small box he had promised to give to Luke one day and traced its surface with his fingers.
A light knock echoed. When Asher looked toward the door, Jan entered, holding something in his hands.
“A gift box?”
“It’s from Her Highness, Princess Roxina.”
Asher set down the box he had been holding and took the one Jan offered. It seemed Princess Roxina had sent one to Shaki as well. Carefully opening the box, Asher found a golden goblet and a bottle of liquor inside—clearly a high-end drink.
“Goodness… This is the rare liquor made from fruits grown in the Brush Mountains!”
Jan’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he recognized the value of the liquor. The Brush Mountains were known as the holy land of fruits, often called the land of the gods. Asher picked up the small card placed beside the bottle.
“This is my thanks for keeping it a secret.
I hope you and Luke have a wonderful time.”
The brief, elegant words from Princess Roxina brought a faint blush to Asher’s cheeks. He quickly closed the box and placed it on the shelf, unsure of what to make of the implication.
“By the way, Young Master, have you heard the strange rumors circulating in the ducal household lately?”
“What rumors?”
“They say that every night, the sound of crying echoes from the end of the west corridor, where the underground passage is. Of course, I don’t believe it, but I thought I should tell you.”
The west corridor led to the underground passage, a place usually occupied by maids and servants. But crying every night? Asher stared at Jan, urging him to continue.
“I don’t know the details, but if you wish, I can sneak in tonight to investigate.”
“We can’t just let rumors spread like this. It’s dangerous, but I’ll ask you to look into it.”
“Understood.”
Jan smiled gently, as if to reassure him. But that night, nothing happened, and Jan later told Asher it was likely just a baseless rumor. Even if it were true, there was no way Ember and Shaki wouldn’t know about it.
Asher trusted Jan’s words and finished preparing for his visit to the Blake Ducal Residence. But as he boarded the carriage, he felt his body worsening more than the day before.
“They say there’s no cure for a summer cold… and here I am, the perfect example.”
Asher pressed a hand to his forehead and leaned slightly against the window. The coolness seeping through the glass offered a small comfort, but his eyelids grew heavier. Unable to resist, he closed his eyes against the throbbing headache.
“……Lord… Asher…”
He had only meant to rest his eyes for a moment, but he must have dozed off. Asher slowly opened his eyes to find the carriage had already arrived at the Blake Ducal Residence.
“……We’re already here?”
His voice was unusually hoarse. Feeling more nauseous than usual, Asher furrowed his brows slightly before exhaling roughly.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes… It must be the weather.”
Blame it on the weather, Asher stepped out of the carriage. But as he stumbled, Toms quickly supported him. Asher forced a smile, insisting he was fine, and entered the gates of the Blake Ducal Residence.
Following the butler’s guidance, he stepped into a well-maintained garden. Instead of flashy flowers, it was filled with modest blooms—just like Luke’s taste, Asher thought. Feeling oddly flustered, he fiddled with his pink hair before entering the residence.
“You must be tired from the long journey.”
Luke greeted him first. Asher quickly smiled and was about to return the greeting, but before he could, Luke pulled him close, burying his face in the nape of Asher’s neck. It was only for a brief moment, but his expression seemed furious.
“Right now…!”
Asher blinked in confusion, wondering if he smelled strange. But Luke, still holding him, shouted to the servant behind them.
“Call the physician immediately!”
His tone was colder than usual, startling Asher. Without waiting for Asher to steady himself, Luke scooped him up in his arms.
“……Your Highness?”
Asher called out in surprise, but Luke remained silent, striding purposefully somewhere. Asher, unable to keep up, could only look down slightly, his gaze lingering on Luke’s determined face.
Under normal circumstances, he would have demanded to be put down immediately. But today, for some reason, he wanted to stay in Luke’s arms a little longer. It must be the fever, Asher consoled himself.
“……I can walk.”
“In your condition?”
Had Luke noticed his fever? Asher was grateful that Luke had realized he was unwell. But his eyes betrayed his reason, lingering on Luke’s throat.
Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed as if he were deep in thought. The movement made Asher’s throat tighten, and he swallowed dryly. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to undo just two of the neatly fastened buttons on Luke’s shirt.
“……Doesn’t it feel stifling, buttoned up like that?”
“…….”
“It must be terribly uncomfortable.”
There was a hint of ulterior motive in his words. Sometimes, Asher felt sorry for Luke, who was always so rigid. He wished Luke could live a little more recklessly—just once. Unconsciously, Asher reached out and touched the nape of Luke’s neck.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Luke’s voice snapped Asher out of his daze. The emotion flowing through his fingertips was unmistakably desire.
Does he really feel that way because of me?
Asher’s lips trembled, unable to voice the question. Suddenly, he remembered the stories about Luke from the original novel.
Braden, who had spent a night with Luke, had said he was so skilled it was almost unbearable. He had described Luke as no different from a wild beast, lost in his instincts. But in reality, Luke was a virgin who had never crossed that line with anyone. The mere thought of it made Asher’s instincts whisper recklessly, urging him to make a mistake with Luke. He licked his lips, wondering if it would be so bad to give in—just once.
Luke’s voice, lower than usual, broke the silence.
“Has it always been like this?”
His reason was slipping, and Asher could barely hear what Luke was saying. His instincts were being provoked, and his breathing grew ragged.
“……Your Highness.”
A heated breath escaped Asher’s lips. Unable to resist any longer, Luke carried Asher into a room and laid him on the bed.
“Perhaps it’s better if you don’t speak.”
Luke’s brow furrowed, as if he were struggling to maintain his composure. Asher, not understanding why, rubbed his face against the silk sheets and smiled faintly.
“It’s strange…… I can smell Your Highness here.”
Even though this was clearly a guest room, the bed carried Luke’s scent. Today, his senses were unusually sharp, and the lingering fragrance made Asher restless. He called Luke’s name repeatedly, unable to resist.
“……Your Highness.”
Luke ran a hand roughly through his hair. Asher thought he heard a curse, but he dismissed it. Luke was always composed and dignified—he wouldn’t say such things. Luke quickly summoned the physician and ordered him to leave immediately, warning that no one was to enter the room.
“Can you take the medicine?”
“……Yes.”
But his body refused to obey his mind. It was as if he were intoxicated by the scent lingering in the bedding, his eyes growing hazy. Like a drug, he wanted to keep inhaling it. Luke sat on the edge of the bed and gently lifted Asher up.
“You need to take it. Unless you want to see me lose control.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
