Confrontation

The castle's recent flurry of activity was nearing its end—traces of flower planting had been cleared, all soil and wooden fences swept clean, and necessary repairs made. Most importantly, to welcome Edward's cousin, Prince Wright, the castle's guest rooms were adorned with lavish, dignified decorations.

Lately, Tang Feiliu had been preoccupied with this task, aside from enduring her boss's subtle harassment.

Edward kept Tang Feiliu under close watch precisely because of this matter. Tang Feiliu had begun to sense this, as Grandpa Dave had "casually" reminded him countless times that Prince Wright was an extremely, extremely free-spirited individual—not only evident in his passion for collecting works by struggling artists, his fondness for funding boastful individuals, or even joining them in drinking in alleys while wearing tattered hats... More specifically, he seemed to be the favorite guest of certain ladies... the kind who could enter their bedrooms.

Among Grandpa Dave's countless mentions, the most repeated detail was that Prince Wright not only made nearly half the nobility wear bright green hats, but his tastes were wildly unconventional. Beyond his flamboyant mistresses, his greatest passion lay with fair-haired, blue-eyed boys.

...He sounded like he and his brother—the one scheming relentlessly within the palace to seize the throne—were born of different mothers. Even as Edward's own cousin, Prince Wright felt like some kind of mutant freak.

It wasn't just Grandpa Dave; Edward himself had once warned Tang Feiliu, "Never be alone in a room with Wright." Only then did Tang Feiliu understand why Edward had suddenly expedited his bedroom relocation—and even chosen a room on the same floor, directly adjacent to his own.

Yet despite these seemingly reasonable explanations, Tang Feiliu appeared convinced. Edward knew deep down that no matter how reasonable it sounded, it couldn't mask his true feelings—he couldn't control himself. Even as he struggled to endure, even knowing that someday he'd have to watch this angel live his own life, before the bell of judgment tolled, he still couldn't resist meddling in everything about the boy—his life, his clothes, his home, his food...

Yet Edward swore he'd had countless twisted dreams about this boy—dreams that condemned him, filled him with self-loathing, and made him tremble at his own darkness. But Edward had always locked those evil thoughts away in the shadows. Even in his wildest, most exaggerated dreams, he'd never imagined the scene he witnessed that day—

It had started quite normally. Little Lance was a child who loved to sleep in. In fact, after he moved in, Edward learned that if no one woke him, he could sleep straight through until lunchtime.

Thus, on Tang Feiliu's first day moving in, when Edward inquired why the boy hadn't woken up yet and learned the reason from Evans, he decided to take on the task himself.

Edward believed he was doing a good job. Though one morning, the grown-up Lance had clearly been angry with him for catching him in an awkward moment. But otherwise, Edward felt he was doing an excellent job of coaxing the boy.

This was Edward's self-imposed redemption. His heart was dark and conflicted, and no matter how far apart they were, he could feel in his dreams how desperately he wanted to defile this angel. So Edward told himself that by taking this opportunity to care for him, to feed him, he could make the boy see him as a dependable elder, a kind adult... Perhaps he could gradually dilute this impure, defiling love, transforming it into protection and care.

Whether this plan worked was known only to Tang Feiliu and Edward himself, but today, Edward had clearly received the greatest shock of his life.

As he pushed open the door, he saw his angel sleeping amidst white silk and lace, his golden hair tousled. Edward knew that if he approached, wiped his rosy cheeks with a warm towel, he would see him rubbing his eyes, mumbling something, and finally slowly opening his eyes to reveal blue irises more beautiful than the clearest sky.

This was the moment Edward anticipated most each day, as vital as a devout believer's daily prayers... Yet today, as Edward gazed upon his beloved son with a tenderness even he couldn't fully grasp, watching him stir and pout, muttering the familiar complaint, "I don't want to get up..."

The soft, white silk quilt slid down as Tang Feiliu sat up slowly. But this time, what was revealed wasn't a matching robe, but a vast expanse of skin as milky white as fresh milk.

Tang Feiliu felt a sudden chill. He unconsciously touched his chest, mumbling in a sleepy voice, "Your Excellency... Is it especially cold today? I feel so cold."

His fingers explored his body for a moment. The cold air slowly brought him back to his senses, and Tang Feiliu gradually regained his wits.

And so, naturally, Tang Feiliu realized why he felt cold—because he wasn't wearing his pajamas!

Tong Feiliu glanced at Edward beside the bed and met his conflicted gaze—it was like watching a military dog faced with a piece of meat it was forbidden to eat. His eyes were resolute and upright, yet filled with an undeniable, unhidden hunger... Watching Edward's flickering, conflicted expression, Tang Feiliu recalled his own irritability these past days. For some reason, his retreating motion halted. He deliberately adopted an innocent look, as if utterly oblivious to the danger and struggle unfolding before him. Blinking his blue eyes, he murmured apologetically, "Master Edward... could you fetch me some clothes? I forgot to put on my nightgown yesterday."

As he spoke, he seemed embarrassed by his own boldness, lowering his gaze shyly at the quilt. Edward cleared his throat hoarsely and said, "Alright, alright. I'll get it right away."

With that, Edward rose awkwardly and hurried toward the door. Tang Feiliu called after him, "Including undergarments... I forgot to bring those yesterday too."

Watching Edward stumble in place, Tang Feiliu saw the door swing open hastily as Edward fled in disarray. He couldn't help but bury his face in the pillow, letting out a satisfying, muffled laugh.

Time slipped away amidst their verbal sparring. Before Prince Wright's arrival, Tang Feiliu received a letter from Alan inviting him to view some rare items brought back from overseas. The invitation was too tempting to refuse. Thus, Tang Feiliu specifically sought leave from His Grace Duke Edward, claiming he needed to visit a friend in Nandeng Township.

His Grace Edward listened attentively for a moment before furrowing his brow.

"Rare maritime treasures? I could take you to coastal cities. Come summer, I'll escort you to seaside resorts where docks abound with goods brought back from the seas." Edward harbored no fondness for the handsome gentleman of Nandeng Township, his first instinct being to dissuade Tang Feiliu.

Tang Feiliu's eyes lit up—he had zero resistance to the idea of browsing rare maritime goods by the sea. Yet he refused to abandon his chance to visit Nandeng Township. "But it's not just about the sea treasures!" he insisted. "I long to see my friend! Mr. Allen is an utterly fascinating man, so knowledgeable. Your Lordship, since you have no pressing matters now, perhaps you could accompany me? You might even find him delightful!"

This invitation finally softened Edward's expression. Though he was certain he held no fondness for Alan, he paused, then nodded with restrained grace, rising to his feet. "Very well, I shall accompany you. Since you've invited me."

"Yes, yes, yes." Tang Feiliu nodded perfunctorily. The Duke was wonderful in every way—gentle and reserved—but this occasional flash of aristocratic pride was utterly... indescribable.

Like a large animal—perhaps fierce, perhaps tenderly licking you—yet occasionally turning its head haughtily, swishing its tail, waiting for you to stroke its fur.

Fortunately, when it came to stroking fur, Tang Feiliu, who had raised two big fat cats, was quite experienced.

The two went back to change into their customer service uniforms. After months apart, Tang Feiliu was finally reunited with his friend.

He hummed cheerfully as he quickly changed clothes, only for Edward—who never commented on his attire—to frown the moment he saw him. "You must change your outfit," he said. "This doesn't look like a gentleman."

Then, with Tang Feiliu staring in utter bewilderment, he was pulled straight back into the room. The Duke searched for a moment before heading to his own quarters and returning with a brand-new formal suit.

Tang Feiliu was puzzled when Duke Edward declared, "This is the suit I wore at thirteen. Try it on."

Tang Feiliu looked at the suit, which clearly fit his current frame, then glanced down at himself. A wave of gloom washed over him—was this a veiled insult? Absolutely!

But the quality of the outfit was undeniably superb, the tailoring impeccable. Once Tang Feiliu changed into it, he looked like a different person. Edward, judging he was ready, pushed open the door and saw the golden-haired young prince beneath the glass window, bathed in sunlight. He walked over slowly, helping Tang Feiliu tie the silk bow tie on his shirt.

"You... you truly suit this attire." Edward gazed at the boy before him—blond hair, blue eyes, impeccably dressed in a tailored shirt and three-piece suit. The white silk bow tie framed his slender neck, while lace peeked from beneath the suit cuffs... If he resembled a demon in black formal wear, then this boy looked like a holy angel. Edward murmured, "You're like an angel, Lance."

...Being repeatedly praised like this by the devil's son bearing the seal of the Temple always made Tang Feiliu feel like he was under immense pressure. This time, however, his mind went blank. He chuckled softly, placed his hand on Edward's head, and said with a smile, "Then... I forgive your sins..."

Tang Feiliu's words trailed off mid-sentence as he vanished almost instantly. Within a second, he stood as still as a chicken with its tail tucked between its legs. He saw the intense light that flared in Edward's eyes for just an instant, his entire body seeming to ignite. Tang Feiliu felt the duke's hot breath on him as he wrapped his arms around him, taut as a bowstring. Tang Feiliu felt certain that the next moment, this man would throw him onto the bed and take him!

...Was the Duke's trigger point actually angel and demon role-playing?!

Tang Feiliu stood obediently, daring not to move. He really didn't want to play angel and devil games with His Grace the Duke right now. Not at all.

"...Um, maybe we should just leave now?" he cautiously suggested to the duke, who was taking deep breaths, veins bulging at his temples.

Author's Note:

Sugar, who's gloating right now, when you look back on these days of testing the Duke, I hope you won't regret it. (crosses fingers)