<Episode 15>

Deonis had already heard about Ryan’s twisted night activities.
Whenever Deonis left on expeditions, Ryan would bring noblewomen into the mansion.

“Leave him. He’ll crawl out by morning.”

Right as he said that, a scream rang out from somewhere.
But Deonis ignored it and walked toward the annex.
The guard at the annex looked startled.

“Duke?!”

“Where’s the magic tool maker’s room?”

“Second floor. But… she hasn’t returned yet today.”

Deonis’s brow twitched.
He turned to look at the main building.
Not a single light was on.

“Where exactly is His Highness causing trouble?”

The chief attendant flinched at the Duke’s cold tone but answered without showing it.

“…The Duchess’s room.”

“Take me there.”

At that moment, a half-dressed woman came running out from the main building entrance.

“Kyaa—! A ghost! A ghost!!”

She was screaming nonsense as she ran—
then let out a sigh of relief when she saw a group of knights.

“You came to save me…”

“…Who are you?”

The low, commanding voice made the woman freeze.
She looked up—and stopped breathing.

Standing in front of her was a large man with an overwhelming presence.

“Deonis… Duke?!”

Even in the dark, his sharp features seemed to shine.
The Countess’s face turned red.

The cursed prince born from Empress Fiona.
A wild horse no one could tame.
A man said to slay monsters in a single blow—how could he have such a beautiful, delicate face?

The fear faded, replaced by a forgotten desire.
The Countess deliberately let her robe slip, revealing her full chest, and leaned toward Deonis.

“I’m… Derain from House Yunawood. Forgive me for this shameful state. I was simply so scared…”

Deonis, with a cold expression, stepped back before she could even touch him.
The one who caught her wobbling figure was the white-haired chief attendant.

“Are you alright?”

The attendant helped her stand, hiding his awkwardness.

“Duke…?!”

But Deonis was already gone, swallowed by the darkness of the hallway.

He walked straight through the corridor and stopped in front of the Duchess’s room.

It was the place where the divine barrier felt the weakest.
The place with no pain.
His instincts told him Melody was here.

He swung the door open as if to break it—
and saw Ryan crawling on all fours.

His pants were halfway down, his shirt hanging open.
The stink of alcohol filled the room.

“What are you doing here, Your Highness?”

Deonis’s brow furrowed at the mess before him.

Ryan, clearly drunk out of his mind, looked pleased to see him.
Deonis stared at him like he was a pest, but Ryan pointed into the room and shouted,

“There’s a doll flying around! Damn it, did someone spike my drink?!”

Suddenly, Deonis’s boot stomped down on Ryan’s bare foot.

“Ugh!”

Ryan twisted his body, trying to free himself, but he couldn’t move.
Crack—a sharp sound echoed as if a bone broke.

“You—you, bastard… Aaargh!!”

“Next time, bring a priest with you when you visit here.
You’ll need one just to leave in one piece.”

Leaving Ryan groaning in pain, Deonis turned to the chief attendant.

“William. Escort His Highness.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Once Ryan was gone, Deonis headed to the place that had caught his attention since the start.

“Come out already.”

From the hallway leading to the dressing room, a head with leaf-green hair peeked out of the strangely shimmering scenery.
A light soap scent floated to his nose—soft and sweet.

“When did you get back?”

“Just now. What did you do?”

“I protected the house. From the world’s most awful, nasty, petty, pervy intruder.
Did you see? He was so scared, he ran for his life.”

As she spoke, Melody held up the broken porcelain doll.
Her deep green eyes reminded him of the forest where he stayed during his expedition.

“This and the refracting tool helped a bit.”

“I get the ‘nasty and petty’ part. But… the pervy part—did you actually see it?”

His eyes flicked toward the bed, still in disarray.

“A-ah, no! That’s just from the struggle! I didn’t see anything happen!”

Her flustered, blushing face made Deonis smirk slightly.

“What exactly was about to happen?”

“A man and woman… you know, that… cultural bed activity for reproduction…
Anyway, it didn’t happen. More importantly, don’t you feel different?”

Melody blinked her big eyes, looking hopeful.

“I didn’t feel any pain. Was it that thing?”

Deonis pointed at the magic tool by the window.
Melody’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How did you spot it?”

“It stood out.”

“Where?!”

“I could see it. Do I need to explain more?”

“I made sure the chief attendant couldn’t see it…”

Melody stared seriously at the tool for a while.
As Deonis watched her, his gaze shifted to Empress Fiona’s portrait.

Strangely, the folds in her clothes, the hand resting gently on her belly,
and the round curve of pregnancy looked more vivid than before.

That was the same area where Ryan had painted a black mark—
a stain he made after Deonis awakened as a mage, trying to erase a royal shame.

“It’s still a bit noticeable, isn’t it?”

Melody had come up beside him without him noticing.

“……”

“I tried to make it blurry, but it didn’t soak through completely.
I used a tool to alter the pigment, but I didn’t want to risk damaging the painting. Still…”

She turned to him and smiled.

“It looks nice. A family portrait.”

Maybe because there was no pain now—
Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were flushed, her lips a soft red.
Even in the darkness, she looked unbelievably vivid.

Deonis touched the spot on his hand where her fingers had once brushed.
Suddenly, his throat felt dry.

The next day, Melody was called by Deonis.

“How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?”

“Thanks to you.”

His sculpted face looked lively—like it was glowing.
The deep lines between his brows had relaxed.
That alone made the maids stop in their tracks and gasp.

Melody stared at him like she’d forgotten how to blink.

“These are the materials from the monster subjugation.
See if there’s anything you need.”

Only then did she notice the materials piled on the office floor.

“How many did you defeat?! Wait… this is Nymphia’s scale?!”

Melody’s face lit up at the sight of a rare material.
Her voice shook with excitement.

Nymphia was a frog-like monster.
Its light gray scales were tough and light—very valuable.
They lived in swamps, which made them hard to hunt.

“You brought a lot of slime jelly too. How much do we have to send to the temple?”

At the word temple, Deonis’s brow twitched with annoyance.

“Don’t worry about it. Take as much as you want.”

“But if we break the rules, you might get in trouble…”

All monster parts by law belonged to the temple.
Killing monsters meant their bodies had to be handed over.