The banquet held at the Frogen Palace was long and tedious.
It was a celebratory banquet, a celebration of a battle that hadn't even been won yet, yet it was unclear what it was about. In the middle of the second-floor hallway of the palace, Noah, clad in a black uniform, stood silently, staring at his reflection in the windowpane. A badge of honor pinned to his chest, a dazzling medal beneath it, a neatly tied tie. His attire was as immaculate as his appearance. He tried to lift the corners of his mouth, as if practicing a smile.
At first glance, he seemed like a narcissist who admired his perfect looks and the fit of his uniform, but in fact, he only occasionally put on a smile so that Diana wouldn't forget the smile he liked.
“Colonel Rotsilt.”
Standing between the night hanging over the window and the chandelier's light, it was a noblewoman from a baronial family who called him over. She was a woman who used the pretext of comforting soldiers for her long-dead husband. She particularly favored young, healthy men, often approaching cadets under the guise of patronage or support.
Noah was no exception. The moment she saw him as a boy, she was convinced he would grow into a fine man. Indeed, from the moment he became an officer, he blossomed into a perfect man, possessing good looks, pedigree, and ability. She concealed her impatience at the sight of this handsome young man in his prime, offering a gentle smile.
“How have you been?”
“I can’t stand it.”
His speech was monotonous. He straightened his clothes, pulling at his collar, as if he didn't even care who was greeting him.
The Baroness was fully prepared, dressed in a silhouette that revealed her curves. The seductive power of a sultry woman was always effective. She was rarely rejected. Except for that man, of course.
The Baroness's eyes slyly traced his broad shoulders, muscular physique, and masculine curves. The mere sound of his voice sent tingles through her hands and feet. How ecstatic a night would be with that elegant man. She watched him stare at the window, not even sparing her a glance, and her insides burned. She then leaned closer to his face, as if trying to fit her impure imagination into it. His well-defined profile and sharp jawline were as elegant as a work of art.
"It's good to see you again. We used to spend time together. Do you remember?"
Her dark intentions were closer to long-term, painstaking devotion. She approached the orphaned boy with warm family affection, posing as his helper, and gradually building his favor. Noah Rotsilt had been tempted countless times by both men and women since his adolescence, the dividing line between boyhood and manhood. From her fantasy of a handsome officer in uniform to his status as a high-ranking nobleman, he was a man anyone could envy.
Noah still gave a silent answer.
“I don’t remember it.”
“Colonel, wouldn’t you remember me if you at least saw my face?”
Noah had long known what she wanted. Like the upper class, who live a boring, stable life without major crises, she longed for stimulation. Forbidden pleasures, fleeting affections, aimless pleasures.
Most successful noble men considered debauchery and a debaucherous private life the privilege of the successful and did not care whether they had a lover or a wife.
Noah wasn't. His near-cleansing nature made him loathe the touch of strangers, and he loathed the act of indiscriminately engaging in sexual activity with anyone, deeming it unseemly. He could flash a perfect smile, but if he sensed even the slightest hint of temptation, his expression would instantly twist, and he would invariably draw tears from whoever he was with.
"Having too many women is a mockery of your wife and children, and it's absolutely nothing to be proud of. A man who loves only one person, resists temptation, and maintains his integrity is a true gentleman."
His father's thorough education with conservative morals played a part, but rather than being moral, he was a flawed person who had no interest in others.
No wonder he was called the trophy of women.
Since the stories about her embarrassing failures, rather than her sleeping experiences with him, became the main topic, most people just licked their lips like they were looking at sour grapes, spreading rumors that he had a fatal problem with his reproductive organs or that he liked men (usually Mastiff or his secretary).
The astonishing revelation that he had, at least outwardly, courted a woman and lived a married life—the downfall of the fake Princess who had been a fierce guardian of her master—became the reason for the women to reignite their determination and resolve anew. They were prepared to shed tears, determined to take the plunge.
It was a celebratory banquet, a celebration of a battle that hadn't even been won yet, yet it was unclear what it was about. In the middle of the second-floor hallway of the palace, Noah, clad in a black uniform, stood silently, staring at his reflection in the windowpane. A badge of honor pinned to his chest, a dazzling medal beneath it, a neatly tied tie. His attire was as immaculate as his appearance. He tried to lift the corners of his mouth, as if practicing a smile.
At first glance, he seemed like a narcissist who admired his perfect looks and the fit of his uniform, but in fact, he only occasionally put on a smile so that Diana wouldn't forget the smile he liked.
“Colonel Rotsilt.”
Standing between the night hanging over the window and the chandelier's light, it was a noblewoman from a baronial family who called him over. She was a woman who used the pretext of comforting soldiers for her long-dead husband. She particularly favored young, healthy men, often approaching cadets under the guise of patronage or support.
Noah was no exception. The moment she saw him as a boy, she was convinced he would grow into a fine man. Indeed, from the moment he became an officer, he blossomed into a perfect man, possessing good looks, pedigree, and ability. She concealed her impatience at the sight of this handsome young man in his prime, offering a gentle smile.
“How have you been?”
“I can’t stand it.”
His speech was monotonous. He straightened his clothes, pulling at his collar, as if he didn't even care who was greeting him.
The Baroness was fully prepared, dressed in a silhouette that revealed her curves. The seductive power of a sultry woman was always effective. She was rarely rejected. Except for that man, of course.
The Baroness's eyes slyly traced his broad shoulders, muscular physique, and masculine curves. The mere sound of his voice sent tingles through her hands and feet. How ecstatic a night would be with that elegant man. She watched him stare at the window, not even sparing her a glance, and her insides burned. She then leaned closer to his face, as if trying to fit her impure imagination into it. His well-defined profile and sharp jawline were as elegant as a work of art.
"It's good to see you again. We used to spend time together. Do you remember?"
Her dark intentions were closer to long-term, painstaking devotion. She approached the orphaned boy with warm family affection, posing as his helper, and gradually building his favor. Noah Rotsilt had been tempted countless times by both men and women since his adolescence, the dividing line between boyhood and manhood. From her fantasy of a handsome officer in uniform to his status as a high-ranking nobleman, he was a man anyone could envy.
Noah still gave a silent answer.
“I don’t remember it.”
“Colonel, wouldn’t you remember me if you at least saw my face?”
Noah had long known what she wanted. Like the upper class, who live a boring, stable life without major crises, she longed for stimulation. Forbidden pleasures, fleeting affections, aimless pleasures.
Most successful noble men considered debauchery and a debaucherous private life the privilege of the successful and did not care whether they had a lover or a wife.
Noah wasn't. His near-cleansing nature made him loathe the touch of strangers, and he loathed the act of indiscriminately engaging in sexual activity with anyone, deeming it unseemly. He could flash a perfect smile, but if he sensed even the slightest hint of temptation, his expression would instantly twist, and he would invariably draw tears from whoever he was with.
"Having too many women is a mockery of your wife and children, and it's absolutely nothing to be proud of. A man who loves only one person, resists temptation, and maintains his integrity is a true gentleman."
His father's thorough education with conservative morals played a part, but rather than being moral, he was a flawed person who had no interest in others.
No wonder he was called the trophy of women.
Since the stories about her embarrassing failures, rather than her sleeping experiences with him, became the main topic, most people just licked their lips like they were looking at sour grapes, spreading rumors that he had a fatal problem with his reproductive organs or that he liked men (usually Mastiff or his secretary).
The astonishing revelation that he had, at least outwardly, courted a woman and lived a married life—the downfall of the fake Princess who had been a fierce guardian of her master—became the reason for the women to reignite their determination and resolve anew. They were prepared to shed tears, determined to take the plunge.
“Shall we go somewhere quiet and have a chat?”
The Baroness, too, couldn't let go of a man who had surpassed her past convictions. Although the wife of an honorable patriotic martyr, the fantasy of "a night with a young, beautiful officer" was something she simply couldn't give up. Desire always overtook conscience. It wasn't a passion she could easily abandon, as she had been constantly watching for an opportunity.
"Conversation?"
He turned his head, not to look at the reflection in the glass, but at the Baroness's face. Her expression was filled with delight at the sight of such a beautiful man. She nodded toward the room across the street. While this room was intended for visiting nobles to discuss politics, business, and other intimate matters, it was also tacitly recognized as a place where couples who had met during banquets engaged in sexual relations. He, who had grown accustomed to direct requests for sex or to rushing in without warning, could not have been unaware of this hidden meaning.
"You probably won't have any reason to talk to me. Your father, a police officer, has started a new business."
"Is that all we talk about? We also talk about concerns, or deep conversations between men and women."
Noah's lips pursed in annoyance, as if he'd just overheard some dirty joke, then relaxed. It was because he remembered the time during a past banquet when he'd taken Diana to an empty room and enjoyed a secret affair.
"Was it all a ruse when I said I was tired? I have a nice house and a spacious bed, but this is just too, ah, uncomfortable... It's not that I hate it, but it feels like my spine is going to bend backwards!"
A voice that was dangerously choppy and fragile. While clutching the tablecloth, she expressed her discontent, yet also seemed pleased. She wasn't particularly surprised or resistant to the somewhat vulgar behavior stemming from a man's possessiveness.
She remembers how cute it was to see her clutching the vase on the table in one hand, afraid it might fall. She loved seeing her slender waistline, but she also thought it was even better to see her face, so she immediately turned around and sat her down.
Noah, who had been silent, flinched and opened his eyes wide. He quickly turned his head, wiping his face as if washing it. "Oh my, why am I suddenly having such flashbacks?" Diana was the only woman who could so agitate him, the most refusal-prone man in the empire. When she'd first been brought to Frogen, when she'd climbed on top of him, claiming to steal her dirty books, he hadn't felt any discomfort, but rather a strange tickling sensation.
It was the first fall in his life.
It was a moment when his self-confidence, which he had always prided himself on as a gentleman of noble character and dignity, derailed, and a subtle lust flared. The first manifestation was the urge to kiss her on the lips. Unable to comprehend it, he handed the gun to Diana, the most beautiful woman in the world, and told her to shoot him in the head. But instead of firing, she fled into the nearby forest.
From that day on, he wore a feigned, relaxed smile, enduring the worsening fever with terrifying patience. He didn't want anyone to know that he was a beast, reacting from within. Like a devout priest, he chastised the demon within him, waiting only for the wedding day before parting ways. Those were the arduous days, when he held her in his arms, reciting the creed of service, our resolve, and so on. He prided himself on his own accomplishments. The soundness with which he slept without touching her, the nobility with which he overcame the devil's insidious schemes. What a trustworthy husband he was. It was more important for him that Diana be completely his. After all, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
Anyway, over the past 20 years, the deadlocked tendencies and rules have always been outside her scope. Still, there's no reason for it. As if it's always been that way and should always be.
The officer's beautiful face, standing upright in front of the window, tilted at an angle.
...Why?
“Colonel Rotsilt, are you listening to me?”
"No."
"The Colonel's ears turn red when he's embarrassed. That expression is so... Go ahead."
He remained lost in thought until the Baroness, mistaken for a sudden movement, placed a hand on his firm arm. He was never one to focus on other people's feelings or conversations. Seeing the woman rushing towards him, Noah sighed with a cold face. Just thinking about Diana's touch and the face she held in his arms made his ears burn, while he was truly numb to other women. Now, it was more than indifference; it was closer to discomfort. How dare you, without permission, so carelessly? His heart lurched as he saw someone interrupt his deep reflection, but he had one rule, albeit a mere one.
“As much as possible, be gentlemanly.”
“There’s nothing to talk about between a married man and a married woman, and I’m not interested in it, so I’ll be going now.”
The hand that tried to pry the persistent Baroness away wasn't exactly gentlemanly, but it was polite, if pretentious. Still, the squishy feeling on his arm was more than enough.
"Right now, neither of us is single. It's okay to be honest, right? I can forget everything. I won't cling or be clingy. It means there will be no regrets."
“What is that thing hanging on my arm, squeezing and squeezing?”
Noah forcefully pushed her away, her body pressing against his, unconcerned. She was a nuisance to him, a tedious task. This was especially true with Medea. He'd even worked himself to the bone, skillfully dodging the lips of an intruder who'd thrust relentlessly, hurling her before Diana could see. Diana would sometimes ask,
“Noah, you’ve been flirting with a lot of people, haven’t you? Tell me the truth.”
To be honest, it was a look of horror. He couldn't say anything even if he died. It wasn't just a few; it was a disgusting number, regardless of gender.
“I’m not popular. I have a reputation for having a bad personality.”
Yeah, it'd be better if everyone hated him. Noah didn't want this to be discovered. Diana pretended not to notice, but secretly felt uneasy. She might suspect him of having a dirty demeanor and a scandalous past. She might even refuse to remarry, claiming he wasn't a worthy husband. He had to prevent that. He felt a sense of crisis, as if Diana was watching him from somewhere.
“Don’t touch me carelessly. You don’t want your arm cut off.”
Most couldn't be deterred by polite refusals. They were determined to shatter and defile his convictions and asceticism. To preserve his integrity against these perverts who craved to see his face distorted by lust, he was ultimately forced to resort to this method.
“Colonel, you were clearly shaken, weren’t you? Even your ears were red.”
"I was thinking about the most beautiful woman in the world. It means I won't be excited about you even if I die. It was disgusting and annoying to see you selling your dead husband for attention."
"How can you say that, after all the good I've done for you? We used to be fine, didn't we?"
“I just tolerated it. Because you're Lieutenant Rudiger’s wife.”
Noah checked his sleeve to see if a button had fallen off. He wasn't angry enough to cut off her arm, but he didn't feel the need to think about it that much. It would just be a waste.
"If I catch your eye one more time, I'll tell your family that you and Mastiff have had a long-standing affair. Given your past misdeeds, it won't end with just being thrown in a monastery. I can already see what your father, a police officer, will do."
The Baroness felt a sense of crisis, as if she were caught in an ice wall, and she backed away. Her face, with its expression of being completely crushed, grew increasingly bleak, and tears finally flowed. After she covered her face with both hands and fled, a soft voice was heard from behind her.
"Lieutenant Rudiger, she was a professor at the military academy, right? And did I ever sleep with that woman? I don't remember."
It was a Mastiff who witnessed the situation, where someone was shouting out harsh words as he passed by. It was a commonplace scene, but when he suddenly became her lover, he couldn't just ignore it. Noah had taken off his gloves and was wiping his hands with a handkerchief. He shook off his sleeves and shrugged with a nonchalant expression.
“I think so. He was the biggest loser in the empire, wasn’t he?”
He frowned, nervously running his hand through his golden hair. It was quite upsetting that she'd run away in tears as soon as he'd been involved with her. Who should be offended?
"If that were the case, he'd already be dead. I didn't see it that way, but he was a man of luxury, spreading dirty rumors."
"It's okay. He's already a mess, and there's nothing more to ruin. It won't hurt you."
Even while openly cursing, he had a natural expression, uttering the most obvious common sense, like "the Earth is round." His turquoise eyes glared at Noah with displeasure. He'd never really cared about it before, but at some point, it began to bother him. As he struggled to figure out the cause, Noah offered a clear answer.
"You should start taking care of your image a bit now. You don't want to become an embarrassing father, right?"
“I already ate gluttony, what do you want me to do?”
Noah patted his shoulder encouragingly.
“You should save the world, at least. Like me.”
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