WHTVT C1

Chapter 1

A private room in one of the most exclusive restaurants in the Empire. A lavish table dressed in red roses and candlelight, and a bottle of the finest wine specially sourced for this occasion.

Anyone looking would have called it a perfectly arranged confession.

Noel’s insides, however, had gone ice-cold. The truffle scent teasing his nose was nauseating today. The string melody in his ears and the swaying candle flames all looked ridiculous. Most ridiculous of all was himself for preparing every last bit of it.

He stared blankly at the person seated across from him.

“So what you’re saying is… you want my brother. Adrian.”

He turned the fairy-stone ring in his pocket—the one he’d been about to offer—over and over until his palm was slick with sweat, and asked again.

The answer hadn’t even come yet, but every hour and every effort he’d poured into this stupid act flashed past him. The piece had taken two full months of workmanship alone. To obtain the ring he had secretly signed over the mining rights to a territory his father treasured.

It hadn’t been the kind of burning love he would have given everything for without regret. Still, he had thought it wouldn’t be a bad way to spend the rest of his life with a companion.

The man had never mocked him, never compared him to Adrian, and looked only at him. That gaze had been the basis of his certainty. It was enough, he had firmly believed. The man must feel the same.

Every last expectation had been nothing but Noel beating his own drum—a cracked, pathetic delusion.

“…Yes, Noel. Could you perhaps help me form a connection with Lord Adrian? You’re his only younger brother, after all.”

He was speechless. That damned Adrian Winslow!

Even the last sliver of hope that he might have misheard was crushed without mercy. Those sweet eyes that had shone at him had actually been aimed at Adrian.

Do you have any idea how I arranged this table? What am I supposed to do with the mining rights I gave up for you?

Shame bloomed late, crawling over his entire body. His face burned; he wanted to crawl into a hole that instant. The only mercy was that he hadn’t been the first to say the word like.

The urge to grab the bastard who wanted his brother instead of him by the collar and shake him until his shoulders rattled rose all the way to his throat.

He had to swallow it. If he laid a hand on him and this petty scandal reached his father’s ears, there was no telling what kind of disaster would follow this time.

His father’s threat to slash every last bit of the budget assigned to him if he stained the family name one more time had sounded sincere.

Even so, he couldn’t stand it. He wanted to twist that flushed face that was already dreaming of a pink romance with Adrian, using Noel as a stepping stone.

How dare he insult him like this?

“Ha. So you’re asking me to be your bridge?”

“Could you? You care for me, so of course you will, right?”

“What are you talking about. Know your place. Do you think my brother meets just anyone?”

“…What?”

The man couldn’t hide his astonishment at Noel’s cutting reply. Noel had always acted as if he would give him his own liver; this sharp reaction was clearly unexpected.

Seeing that bewildered face, the corner of Noel’s mouth twisted up.

“Think with common sense. Would the noble eldest son of Winslow meet someone like you—the unremarkable third son of a mere viscount house? To stand beside Adrian you’d need to be at least an imperial prince. You think your turn will come?”

“H-how can you say that…”

“Why? I’m just making you face reality. Who do you think you are, daring to look that high?”

The man’s face flushed red and pale under Noel’s dagger-like mockery. The way he trembled was laughable. Pride that crumbled at words like that, yet he still tried to use the second son of Winslow as a stepping stone to the first.

“You’ve gone too far!”

“What’s gone too far is your station.”

“Hah! I won’t forget this insult, Young Master Noel Winslow.”

“Do as you like.”

The man chewed his lip, fumed, and finally stormed out. Even after crushing him that way, the rage stuck to Noel’s chest wouldn’t leave.

Irritating bastard. Irritating world. Everywhere it was brother, brother, brother. Damn Adrian Winslow.

Adrian was the young duke of the magical powerhouse house of Winslow, and he had been born with the qualities of an archmage to match. Overflowing talent, dignity, and beauty so striking it stole the breath. A man without a single flaw no matter where you placed him.

In that enormous shadow, Noel—who couldn’t even use magic—was always just the hopeless young master.

But so what? That still wasn’t a reason for him to be treated as an extra.

Still seething and unable to swallow his anger, Noel climbed into the carriage. Lingering here would only add strange rumors.

Inside the rattling carriage he tipped the strong vintage wine he’d taken from the restaurant straight from the bottle. The red liquid ran down his chin and ruined his finest silk cravat; he didn’t care.

He hoped the sour grape scent mixed with alcohol would numb his brain. The more he drank, the sharper the shame became.

Inferiority toward Adrian, the humiliation just now, and the contempt for his own pitiful one-sided love burned like fire.

“Aaaagh! I’m so pissed! What’s wrong with me?!”

He slammed his fist against the carriage wall and screamed. His chest was so tight he couldn’t breathe. More than a dozen people had already approached him while mentioning Adrian. There was a limit to how much they could look down on him!

He even bashed his head against the wall, but the anger didn’t ease. The moment they reached the estate he kicked the carriage door open and jumped down.

“You’ve returned.”

The waiting servants bowed as one. Noel barely registered the greeting and scanned the surroundings. The words he’d dumped on the viscount’s third son at the restaurant couldn’t have reached his father already, but it still nagged at him.

So he asked the butler carefully.

“Father?”

“He left for the territory with Lord Adrian. He said they would take the opportunity to rest as well, so they won’t return for a week.”

Unnecessary worry. They just took off for a rest without a single word of notice. He’d sung about wanting to travel the territory himself. And of course it was only the two of them circling each other!

The resentment evaporated almost at once.

On a day like today, just seeing their faces would have made the irritation spike. …Well. Better this way, actually.

Leaving the people who had welcomed him behind, Noel headed for the old annex deep along the forest path—his hideout. The only place his father’s surveillance and those disgusting gazes that praised Adrian never reached.

Father was gone; he might as well stretch out on the hideout sofa after a long time and finish drinking. Had the dessert he’d brought last time still been there?

He was making his own little plan to soothe his wounded heart when he flung the annex door open and immediately furrowed his brow.

“What. Who the hell are you to crawl in here.”

Annoyingly, the boy of unknown origin his father had picked up not long ago was occupying the worn sofa of his hideout.

The boy noticed him and awkwardly stood. Then he fidgeted with his fingertips and glanced at Noel as if gauging his mood.

How did he even know to find this place? Had Adrian told him? Irritation flared for no good reason; Noel raked the boy standing in front of him with an even more displeased look.

His name was Chase, wasn’t it. Noel’s eyes went, unbidden, to the face revealed between platinum hair. Gaunt, sunken cheeks, hollow under-eyes, lips dried and cracked—every bit of it was unsightly. All of it grated on Noel’s nerves.

When he’d first been brought into the house he’d looked like a beggar about to drop dead any second. Now he was wrapped in luxurious clothes slathered in gold.

The flashy outfit that didn’t suit him glittering right in front of Noel’s eyes scraped at his nerves in a strange way.

Just who was this kid that Father personally brought him into the estate, served him the finest meals, had clothes tailored, and treated him with such care? Things he’d never once done for his own son, who was treated like a ghost simply because he couldn’t use magic…!

He couldn’t understand why that kindness was given to a street-rat who wasn’t even his child.

Could it be that even this one had been born with tremendous magic and monopolized Father’s attention? The wretched suspicion rose and his stomach twisted.

He already felt rejected by the entire world; having his own territory invaded pushed the humiliation to its peak. He hated everything he saw.

“Are you mute? Why aren’t you talking! You—do you know where this is? Get out right now.”

“……”

Even under Noel’s barking, the boy didn’t move a muscle. He only gazed quietly at Noel, who reeked of alcohol and was still panting with rage.

Receiving that empty, emotionless stare in full snapped the last thread of Noel’s reason. It felt as if even this insignificant brat was laughing at him.

“Hey! Do I look funny to you too? Answer me!”

“……”

“You don’t even want to talk to me because I’m not Adrian?! Answer me, you little shit!”

The way the boy kept his mouth shut like a clam and just stared finally made the temper Noel had been holding explode. Misery and humiliation splashed in the wrong direction. Noel roughly kicked at the heavy iron chair beside him.

Clang—!

The problem was that he was drunk and misjudged the distance; the kick twisted his own body instead. His stumbling foot stole his balance. Noel’s body cut through empty air. At the same time a dull crack sounded as his head smashed hard into the cold stone wall.

“Fuck…… that hurts like hell—, hngk!”

He was about to grab his forehead with a curse when—