A warm spring breeze wafted in through the slightly open door. Despite the darkness and dryness of the palace at night, the fresh scent of grass signaling the arrival of spring flowed in on the wind, stirring the thick curtains. Catching the scent of grass tickling his nose, Ruth, who was sitting and holding cards, frowned slightly. His face betrayed how tired he was of the card game that had dragged on late into the night.

“It’s getting too late. Let’s call it a night,” he said, placing his final card down.

The burly young man sitting across from him chuckled cheerfully.
“Three wins in a row. Is it bad luck, or are you just not trying?”

The young man’s voice was deep and smooth. Though he hadn’t yet undergone his coming-of-age ceremony, Ail Linus, known as the “Prince of Wind” and the most infamous libertine in the imperial palace, teased Ruth with all the charm of his notorious reputation.

But Ruth wasn’t one to take the bait. No matter how irresistibly beautiful and captivating this prince might be, four years of playing card games would wear anyone down. A lack of enthusiasm was only natural.

“Both,” Ruth replied curtly.

“That’s a rather disinterested answer,” Ail remarked.

“Isn’t it about time you got bored of this too, Your Highness? Let’s try something else for a change.”

“How about we do what everyone thinks we’re doing when we meet late at night? Something sweaty and breathless?”

Ruth shook his head in exasperation at Ail’s increasingly brazen jokes. This playful demeanor contrasted sharply with Ruth’s first impression of Ail, which still lingered vividly in his mind. Whether it was time that had changed things, or simply Ail himself, Ruth couldn’t decide. Over the past four years, Ail had perfected the persona of a lazy, hedonistic, and profoundly ignorant prince, earning himself not only the nickname “Prince of Wind” but also “The Worst Prince in Karileum’s History.”

In truth, even Ruth sometimes forgot that this was only an act. Or perhaps Ail had so thoroughly immersed himself in this persona that it had become his reality. The incident at the hunting tournament four years ago had marked a significant turning point, making Ruth wonder if this side of Ail was his true nature all along.

Though Ail had grown into a strong and dazzlingly handsome man, his behavior was appalling. Many nobles openly criticized his conduct, but the ailing emperor shielded him, justifying Ail’s actions as a result of psychological trauma stemming from the near-death experience four years ago.

With Ail’s coming-of-age ceremony approaching, however, Ruth’s family was beginning to back Prince Nathan, the second prince born to Ruth’s aunt Tasha, as the next crown prince. Yet Ail’s disgraceful behavior meant that these efforts were relatively subdued. Many simply waited for the emperor’s passing, expecting Ail’s downfall to come naturally, fueled by his own scandals.

One scandal stood out above all others. Over the past four years, Ail had been with countless partners—none of them women. The rumor that he avoided women entirely had already spread across the nation, raising doubts about his ability to produce an heir. This alone was enough to be a fatal flaw.

To make matters worse, Ail had been summoning Ruth to his chambers every few days, only to send him away looking disheveled. No one knew that all they did was play cards, engage in mock war games with maps, or occasionally take turns reading risqué novels that Ruth had smuggled from his hometown.

Four years ago, Ruth had been terrified of Ail. Now, he could laugh at his crude jokes and engage in playful banter. Time, it seemed, was indeed a frightening thing.

“Let’s stop here. I’m tired,” Ruth said.

“Fine, then go ahead and sleep first,” Ail replied, gesturing toward the bed.

“What?”

“Accidents happen. Maybe tonight’s the night you spend the night here by mistake.”

“There’s no need to plan things so meticulously, Your Highness. Everyone already knows about your… preferences. And the fact that we’re allegedly involved is no secret.”

“Oh? And what’s so amusing about that?” Ail asked with interest when Ruth trailed off, scanning Ail up and down with a smirk.

“The funny thing is, people think I’m the one Topping ^[1]Seme, Top you. And honestly, someone as big as you isn’t my type,” Ruth quipped.

“Hah! That’s amusing. Should we change the rumors, then?”

“No need. It’s all lies anyway, so it doesn’t matter. I’ll be going now,” Ruth said, strapping his sword back to his side.

Just as he took a step, Ail pulled loose the neatly tied ribbon in Ruth’s hair and embraced him from behind.

“If you’re leaving now, you should look a little more disheveled,” Ail murmured softly, his warm breath tickling Ruth’s ear as his strong arms encircled Ruth’s waist.

Ail had grown tall enough that Ruth now had to look up at him. The boyish charm of his younger days had given way to the commanding presence of a man, exuding a potent and overwhelming masculinity.

Feeling Ail’s chest pressing against his back and the strength of his arms, Ruth’s face flushed red. Ail always played these kinds of tricks, but Ruth could never get used to them. No matter how many times they argued about it, the same situation would repeat itself.

Ail leaned closer, his breath warm against Ruth’s neck, and kissed the exposed skin. Ruth flinched at the heat and tried to pull away, but Ail bit down deliberately, leaving a mark. The intentionality behind the act made Ruth shut his eyes tightly, waiting for Ail’s lips to retreat.

When Ail finally let go and stepped back, he couldn’t resist one last jab.

“You’re still such a child. Is it because you’re a virgin?”

“Shut up,” Ruth snapped, storming toward the door, his hair disheveled and his face burning with embarrassment.

Behind him, Ail’s laughter rang out, further fueling Ruth’s irritation. He threw the door open with unnecessary force, startling the knights waiting outside. They bowed quickly, but Ruth waved them off and stormed down the hallway, his long hair flying behind him as the knights and attendants began whispering.

“It looks like they fought again.”
“Yeah, how long will it last this time?”
“A day.”

“Oh, come on, it’ll last two days this time.”
“One day, tops. With His Highness acting like that, who could stop him? Honestly, it’s bizarre how well they get along.”

Behind the door, Ail sat in his chair, listening to their hushed murmurs. Even without straining to hear, he could guess exactly what they were gossiping about. Ruth had stormed out in a huff, and now they were speculating about the scene.

“Ha… what an amusing guy,” Ail muttered, letting out a hollow laugh as he gazed at the hair ribbon left behind in his hand.

This game wouldn’t last much longer. For one reason or another, Ruth would have to disappear soon. Ail felt no guilt about it—he had never intended to keep the promises he made to Ruth in the first place.

“It’s been fun, Ruth Kaizel.”

Even as he spoke those words, Ail raised the ribbon to his lips, pressing a light kiss to it. Ruth’s scent lingered on the fabric—a simple, honest fragrance that still clung to it.

No matter how vivid or enchanting a flower’s scent might be, it would eventually fade. It would be up to Ail to pluck the bloom and crush it underfoot when the time came. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel a trace of regret for the lingering fragrance. Perhaps it was the inevitable attachment formed over four years, a bond even someone like Ail couldn’t entirely dismiss.

But human emotions were ultimately useless. They were nothing more than fragile shards of a weak heart, crushed without mercy in the face of power. Losing such fragments was no real loss.

At most, he might remember and laugh about it someday.
There was someone like that once, he would think and will probably chuckle to himself, recalling Ruth’s face.

Time was running out. The precarious balance of the present would soon shatter, and the moment to tip the scales was fast approaching.