"You just got engaged, and you're already making out in the hallway? You really can't stay put, can you?"
Arthur groaned. "Not my fault my fiancée is so cute."
Arthur huffed, rubbing his sore ear as Iliyana walked off, leaving him grumbling under his breath.
As he glanced in the direction Alicia had fled, a smirk crept onto his lips.
***
The lively atmosphere stretched well into the evening, the warm glow of lanterns casting a golden hue over the room. With fine wine and decadent desserts, the celebration carried on, the recent engagent only adding to the rrint. Laughter and cheerful banter filled the space, making the night feel all the more vibrant.
Arthur leaned back in his seat, absently swirling the remnants of his drink. "By the way, why didn't Cedric co along?"
Edgar let out a weary sigh, shaking his head. "That boy… he's been preoccupied with sothing else."
Arthur arched an eyebrow. "Busy? With what?"
Before Edgar could answer, Alicia spoke up. "Apparently, Kaela invited him to the wolf tribe."
Arthur blinked, montarily caught off guard. "Kaela? An invitation to the Heartwood Forest?"
Alicia nodded. "Yes. She sent it a while ago, and ever since then, Cedric's been on edge."
Edgar let out a chuckle, rubbing his temple as if recalling his son's antics. "Hah~ You should've seen him. The mont he got that invitation, he's been obsessing over it—burying himself in books, learning everything about wolfn customs, their traditions, even their… uh, social dynamics."
Arthur smirked. "You an he's studying their courtship rituals?"
Alicia giggled. "More or less. He doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Kaela's tribe."
Arthur tapped his fingers on the table thoughtfully. "And you're okay with this?"
Isolde, who had been enjoying her wine, tilted her head and smiled. "Why wouldn't we be?"
Arthur shrugged. "Well, Cedric getting involved with soone from the beastman race… I figured there might be so concerns."
Edgar let out a deep laugh. "Arthur, we're not so stuck-up nobles who look down on other races. Besides, the wolf tribe is strong, and Kaela herself is quite the remarkable young woman. If Cedric's interested, who are we to interfere?"
Isolde nodded in agreent. "Love doesn't follow noble traditions. If there's sothing between them, it's up to Cedric and Kaela to figure it out."
Edgar chuckled, swirling his drink. "And besides, she's not just any beastman. She's the daughter of Morrika Howler—an S-rank warrior. Making connections with the wolf tribe isn't a bad idea, especially for a rchant noble family like ours."
Arthur smirked, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "Well, when you put it that way, it does sound like a win-win situation—for both the family and Cedric."
"So, when is he leaving?" Arthur asked.
"Tomorrow at noon," Alicia answered.
Arthur humd in thought. "A trip to Heartwood Forest, huh? Sounds interesting."
Alicia's eyes sparkled. "Right? I was thinking the sa thing. What do you say—should we tag along?"
Arthur turned toward his father. "What do you think, Dad? Should I go?"
Lucious, who had been silently listening, finally nodded. "It wouldn't be a bad idea. Having you and Alicia there might make things easier for Cedric. Besides, learning about different tribes is always beneficial."
Arthur's smirk widened. "Then it's settled. We'll et up tomorrow at noon for the departure."
Alicia nodded, a hint of excitent in her voice. "Perfect."
With the plan set, the evening gradually wound down. The warm glow of lanterns flickered against the cooling night air as the count's family finally prepared to take their leave.
Standing beside her mother, Alicia turned to Arthur, her gaze soft. "See you tomorrow."
Arthur smirked. "Looking forward to it."
With that, the count's family stepped into their carriage, the sound of hooves fading into the misty night.
Arthur watched them disappear into the darkness, exhaling deeply as he tucked his hands into his pockets.
********
The night was quiet, the mansion wrapped in a blanket of stillness. After the lively gathering, everyone had retired to their rooms, most of them too drunk to do anything but collapse onto their beds. The scent of wine and laughter still lingered in the air, but now, silence reigned.
Arthur lay in bed, his mind drifting sowhere between wakefulness and sleep when—
Hiccup.
A sharp voice followed.
"You inconsiderate bastard! Do you even rember you have a wife?!"
Arthur frowned, his brows knitting together. What the hell? Who's yelling at this hour?
Sitting up, he focused on the source of the voice—it was coming from the balcony of the adjacent room. Curiosity stirred within him. Quietly, he slipped out of bed and stepped onto his own balcony. Peeking past the divider, his eyes landed on Alia.
His sister-in-law stood under the moonlight, a phone in one hand and a bottle of alcohol in the other. The silky nightgown she wore clung to her figure, the dim glow accentuating her curves. Her long hair, slightly disheveled, cascaded down her back, and her flushed cheeks made it clear—she was completely wasted.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. Drinking alone? This late?
He focused on her words, her voice thick with emotion.
"Do you even care how I feel?!" she snapped at the phone. "Or are you too busy playing soldier to rember you have a wife waiting at ho?!"
Arthur's eyes narrowed. She's talking to my brother.
Alia let out a bitter laugh, her grip tightening around the phone.
"I swear, if I find out you're fooling around with so barrack slut—" she cut herself off, exhaling sharply. "No. Forget it. Do whatever the hell you want."
Her voice wavered at the last part. Before Arthur could hear his brother's response, she ended the call abruptly.
A heavy silence followed. Then, he heard it—a quiet sniffle.
She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and then—without hesitation—tilted the bottle back, taking large gulps of alcohol.
Arthur sighed, leaning against the railing. Drinking herself numb, huh? Tch. What a ss.
For a mont, he considered just walking away. It's none of my business, after all. But sothing about the way she stood there—her shoulders trembling, her posture weighed down by frustration and loneliness—made him hesitate.
Should I just ignore this? Or… should I step in?
"Fuck it."
Arthur muttered under his breath, no longer able to ignore her soft sniffles. With a swift movent, he pushed himself over the railing and landed effortlessly onto her balcony.
"Heup—!"
Alia gasped, startled by the sudden intrusion. Her already unsteady footing wavered, and she stumbled back. But before she could fall, Arthur moved—his hands catching her slender waist, pulling her against him in one fluid motion.
His grip was firm yet careful, steadying her with ease. Their bodies were now impossibly close, the heat of her skin seeping through the thin fabric she wore.
"Careful, sister-in-law," he murmured, his voice carrying a teasing lilt.
Alia blinked up at him, her hazy, wine-drenched mind struggling to register what had just happened.
"Arthur…? Hiccup."
"Yes, it's ," he answered smoothly.
But inside, he was anything but calm.
In the dim moonlight, he hadn't been able to fully take her in before. But now? Now that she was in his arms, the details were undeniable.
Her lips—full, plump, and slightly parted—trembled between a pout of annoyance and drunken confusion. The blush on her cheeks wasn't just from alcohol; it was a natural, irresistible shade of red that only enhanced her already striking features.
But Arthur's gaze didn't stop there. Oh no.
His attention slid downward, drawn to the only thing she was wearing—a sheer, silky nightgown.
Arthur clenched his jaw, exhaling through his nose as he fought against the sudden wave of heat surging through him.
The only thing Alia wore was a long, sheer white nightie—the flimsy, see-through kind that left almost nothing to the imagination. It clung to her body like mist, draping over her in a way that was both elegant and sinful.
Every lush curve was visible—the gentle dip of her waist, the enticing flare of her hips, and, oh yes, those full, round breasts.
His eyes traced the delicate flower embroidery that adorned the chest area, a design ant to tease rather than conceal. But the main flowers on either side had no buds—and why? Because her perfectly pink, perky nipples stood out proudly as the "buds," barely veiled by the sheer fabric. Just visible enough to make Arthur's mouth go dry.
A tightness stirred below, his body responding instinctively to the sight before him. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep himself in check.
His gaze drifted lower, following the flat expanse of her stomach to the delicate lace panties that rested on her hips. They were just as white as the nightie—and almost as transparent. If that lace had been even a shade thinner… heaven help him.
And those long, smooth legs—they stretched down like a tantalizing pathway to pure sin.
Arthur swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away.
'Control, Arthur. Control. This is your sister-in-law.'
But damn it all… she wasn't making it easy.
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