MPNS Ch 38

Chapter 38

“Has Your Highness’s attendant truly never instructed you on the proper comportment to be observed before marriage? Is that why you were standing before unrelated men with your chest bare, all but drooling on their shoulders in delight?”

Proper comportment before marriage? Drooling on the shoulders of unrelated men? I’m a man too — what does he even mean by unrelated?

Nikiel thought back to his language proficiency scores from his science high school years. Impeccable, flawless! Which meant the problem wasn’t that he couldn’t understand — clearly this guy was the one talking strangely.

“What on earth have you been going on about this whole time?”

Nikiel was baffled. The interrogation he was being put through felt absurdly rooted in strict Confucian ideology — like something out of the “men and women must not sit together after the age of seven” school of thought.

Yullan’s attitude was strange indeed — as though he saw Nikiel as some shameless person stripping in front of the opposite sex without a second thought.

He had even acted as if Nikiel were some common prostitute just for grappling chest to chest in a wrestling match. Back at university, Nikiel had shared a dorm room in just his underwear with male classmates; he couldn’t begin to understand this mindset.

He started to truly suspect that he and Yullan weren’t even speaking the same language.

So, almost unwilling to believe it, he asked:

“So, you’re angry because… I haven’t been behaving with modesty?”

Yullan only looked down at him in silence — but his eyes said, Ah, so you do understand. Nikiel felt his face go a shade paler without realizing it.

In the meantime, Yullan picked up his cloak again and wound it mummylike around Nikiel’s torso — pinning his arms so tightly he couldn’t even move one.

“You’re high-maintenance, my prince. Now that you’ve had your damn enlightenment, perhaps you’ll return to the Prince’s Palace at once and, for heaven’s sake, stay there quietly — so I don’t have to keep hearing rotten gossip about you bedding some lady, or bending over for some whore.”

His tone was utterly flat, as though it were simply expected of Nikiel.

Nikiel shut his eyes briefly, opened them again, and forced out words:

“Fine. Fine. But why do I have to watch my conduct? Is it because I’m going to marry one of you?”

“If you must have that answer, I could say yes — but as you know, sluts aren’t my type.”

“Do you always have to put it like that—! Forget it. I don’t want to marry you either, Your Grace.”

Nikiel was still confused. Clearly, marriage was a bigger deal in this world than he’d realized. To tell him to guard his comportment until wedlock? Why only him? Yullan could walk around bare-chested but he couldn’t? The injustice gnawed at him.

With so many thoughts rushing in, he didn’t even notice the rude Grand Duke had gone silent.

Then, in a voice tossed out without inflection, came:

“You don’t want to marry me?”

“If you were in my place, would you want to marry someone who’s called you a slut and a whore to your face? I can’t imagine strolling together, let alone marrying! And why should I have to marry a man in the first place? I’m not even interested in—”

Lost in his thoughts, Nikiel only realized too late he’d let them slip past his lips. Immediately, the heavy scent of the beast’s pheromones from the arena pressed in on him — Yullan had moved close. Beneath it, there was the blue-green tang of wildflowers crushed under a predator’s massive paws.

“Not interested in men, hmm—”

They were close enough for their chests to almost touch, but Yullan came no closer. He only looked down at Nikiel, gold eyes gleaming under shadow in a way no human could read. Nikiel didn’t even realize he’d stopped breathing.

Since the match, they’d had no direct contact at all. Even when gripping Tom’s belt during the bout, Yullan had only pulled the other man away from him.

Now, though, it felt as though any moment would be the true first moment of contact. A sudden weight settled low in Nikiel’s belly.

Whether it was his pleasure-seeking body reacting on its own, or something else, the proximity made every nerve in him fizz and crackle.

His chest tickled, as if all the blood in his body had rushed to a single point. He didn’t understand why that spot felt sensitive. Frowning instinctively, he took a step back, fearful that any shift beneath the cloak might be noticed.

But Yullan did not relent, staring hard enough that Nikiel’s back met the cold stone wall of the corridor. The chill bled through the cloak.

Nikiel scowled. “What are you doing?”

“Seeing as you went to such lengths to trail at my heels, yet claim not to like men — I find myself curious about you, is all.”

The honorifics were as mocking as the words themselves. He almost wished Yullan would just use informal speech; at least that would feel less condescending.

Infuriating bastard… but…

Yes, infuriating — but the physical response in his body was strange. Just from Yullan’s closeness, from breathing in the pheromones drifting from that strong throat, he felt unsteady.

Without realizing it, his gaze traced Yullan’s earlobe, his strong jaw, the thick walnut curve of his Adam’s apple. Even the sharp arch of his brows, disciplined despite their high line, drew his eyes in passing.

Why am I reacting? This cocky, insufferable man is not my type — so why…

No matter how he told himself otherwise, his heart was pounding like a war drum. The lack of actual physical contact made the awareness of distance — and the tautness in the air — even sharper.

He half-feared Yullan would see the jump of his carotid under his skin, and silently prayed to the Bodhisattva that whatever was happening in his lower body would go no further.

Yullan glanced at the crease in Nikiel’s brow and smirked.

“Sure you don’t like men?”

“……”

“If you ever change your mind, send a pigeon over to the Knights, Your Highness.”

With that, he stepped back — the retreat as sudden as a receding tide.

Only then did Nikiel let out the breath he’d been holding. His face was burning; the tips of his ears felt ready to burst.

“I’m curious what our prince — who claims not to like men — would be like otherwise.”

Leaving that sneer behind, Yullan turned away. Nikiel held back the insult on his tongue — Shove it up your ass — only because if the man came back and actually touched him, the changes in his body would become all too obvious.

Without a backward glance, Yullan strode off the way they’d come, his bootfalls echoing around Nikiel until he felt he had to fight not to slide down the wall.

Even if my body’s changed, can my sexual preferences change with it too?

For the first time since arriving in this world, Nikiel truly wanted to go back to South Korea. Not for kimchi stew, not for an event day in a gacha game — but today, here, because of this.

Allewynn, Vice Commander of the Black Thorn Knights, was in a state of …Ollarii-yo?

His commander and liege, Lord Yullan Balt of Iteren, had said he was going to see how the Sitata match between the Knights and the Guards was going — but had suddenly returned wearing a grim look.

Yullan was usually expressionless, rarely showing mood swings. He seldom grew angry, and almost never raised his voice — the very model of a single-minded man who didn’t blink even when Duke Raymon Boltwick’s political games tried to trip him up.

But today, his face practically had “I’m in a rotten mood” written across it. As the huge-framed, broad-shouldered figure with the monstrous physique strode up frowning, the palace servants cleaning the Knights’ temporary offices paled.

His presence alone was enough to raise goosebumps — and for Allewynn, who knew his commander’s true form was that of a wolf larger than most farmhouses, their fear was only natural.

Lost, and lost badly?

What else could explain this mood? Sitata was one of Ossinis’ signature sports, great for training stamina; the Knights often held matches of it.

He’d thought there was no way they could lose to the flimsy Guards — but perhaps they’d been utterly defeated? Otherwise, why would Yullan look like this?

Still, it was hard to believe. The Black Thorn Knights spent most of the year hunting monsters, and their off-days training to do it more effectively.

How could men who did nothing but eat, train, and hunt lose to the soft-bellied Guards who patrolled the palace?

Even as he told himself it was impossible, Allewynn opened his mouth to check.

“Don’t tell me the Knights lost?”

“Have those idiots hitch themselves to an ox cart and run laps around the grounds until sunset.”

Allewynn sucked in a sharp breath.