Past Events

Tang Feiliu had no idea what Edward and Wright had discussed, or what agreement they'd reached. In any case, Wright departed the castle early the next morning—three or four days earlier than originally planned.

This instantly lifted a heavy weight from Tang Feiliu's heart. He'd been genuinely frightened. There was something about Wright that Tang Feiliu detested intensely—an overbearing presence, a contemptuous air, and an arrogance ingrained to the bone. Unlike Edward's occasional, almost amusing pride, Wright's arrogance carried an undeniable sense of unease.

As a mild-tempered modern individual, Tang Feiliu seldom encountered such people in his daily life. This was a trait scarcely cultivated in contemporary society—a product of its era, nurtured only by absolute power. Simply put, the aura radiating from Wright was the exclusive arrogance and haughtiness of the ruling class—utterly unappealing. When such a figure fixed their gaze on you, you couldn't appreciate any redeeming qualities they might possess. Instead, you felt only dread and a sense of threat so intense it made your hair stand on end.

This feeling was hard to describe, especially for someone raised in an egalitarian society. It was difficult to comprehend the pain and fear that moment brought under the dual oppression of physical strength and authority. In any case, Tang Feiliu bolted back to his room, burrowing straight under the covers like a frightened little animal. Only when he felt slightly safer did he realize his body was trembling slightly.

Soon after, Edward came up. Seeing Tang Feiliu hiding beneath the covers, his face flushed with panic and drained of color, Edward sighed. He walked softly over and sat down in front of Tang Feiliu. "Don't be afraid, Little Lance," he murmured. "Don't be afraid. I'll have him leave tomorrow."

"But... but isn't he a prince?" Tang Feiliu looked up at Edward and asked softly.

In that instant, Tang Feiliu understood why he was afraid—deep down, he trusted Edward completely, believing Edward would never harm him. Within Edward’s domain, Tang Feiliu felt safe. He treated Edward’s territory as his own, working tirelessly to build it up, as if constructing a home he cherished.

But today, Prince Wright’s arrival had taken place in the kitchen—the very place Tang Feiliu knew best. Yet there he was, his arms tightly pinned by Wright, held against the prince’s chest. He could smell the stench of Wright’s long-neglected hygiene mingled with the overpowering scent of perfume, yet he couldn’t move an inch... If Edward hadn’t come down, Tang Feiliu couldn’t have been sure what kind of harm he might have suffered, or how severe it might have been.

Tang Feiliu's fear felt like being alone in his own home, only to have someone break in and take him hostage.

He hadn't understood why his reaction had been so intense before, but in that instant, both he and Edward finally grasped it. Edward gently patted Tang Feiliu's back, his voice tinged with self-reproach. "It's my fault. I never imagined that after so little time apart, his temper would grow so erratic... He never used to act like this. It's all my fault, Little Lance. Don't be afraid. I won't let this happen again. This is my domain. He came seeking my aid. I'll have him leave the territory tomorrow. Lance, relax. Don't be afraid..."

Edward repeated these words over and over, gradually calming Tang Feiliu's frayed nerves. Tang Feiliu said awkwardly, "I'm sorry, Your Lordship... Nothing really happened. Did I overreact just now?"

"No..." Edward replied, his expression complex. "Truthfully, I was scared too."

Lait had come seeking Edward's aid—his reputation in the imperial city of Lot was already ruined, tarnished by his habit of flirting with noblewomen. Leight had made countless enemies. What Edward dared not tell Tang Feiliu was that Tang Feiliu's intuition had been correct. His fear of Prince Leight, who appeared outwardly polite, likely stemmed from his innate sensitivity. This child, like a sun-seeking plant, might have sensed Leight's darkness and madness.

Lait had left the palace with several lives on his hands. In years past, his toyings with commoners' children had caused little stir. But in recent years, as his own brother drew closer to the throne, Lait grew increasingly reckless. While rivals once kept him in check, once Queen Josephine's enemies were eliminated, Lait's actions became utterly intolerable.

He even targeted the child of a noble, torturing the fair-haired, blue-eyed boy to death.

This act crossed every boundary. The victim was merely thirteen years old. Wright's cruelty sparked widespread outrage among the nobility. The incident even sowed doubt and discontent in the King toward Empress Josephine and her eldest son, Charles, making Charles' efforts to rally support exceedingly difficult.

It was only through Charles's fury and insistence that Wright was finally expelled from the royal city. As a mother, Queen Josephine could not oppose her eldest son's decision, yet she could not bear to abandon her youngest son—even after his horrific deeds. With no other choice, Josephine arranged for Wright to stay at Black Swan Castle temporarily, hoping he might build a relationship with Edward to observe his condition.

Queen Josephine's plan was sound. After all, Edward was their most crucial ally. During Wright's exile—traveling and waiting for the storm to pass—it was vital he had a powerful elder to guide him. Given Wright's knack for trouble, Queen Josephine had no faith he could look after himself. In short, the plan had been meticulously crafted. During his exile, Wright would ingratiate himself with Duke Edward, solidifying the bond between Edward and Queen Josephine. This would earn him merit in securing the throne for his elder brother Charles, paving the way for Charles to welcome him back to the imperial capital and grant him a favorable fiefdom... But if Wright was capable of such monstrous acts, he clearly had no intention of accepting Queen Josephine's guidance. She had sent him to Black Swan Castle in a position of supplication, even dispatching her most trusted lady-in-waiting to accompany Prince Wright and mediate his relationship with Edward.

Unexpectedly, after enduring a fortnight of dealing with Wright, Edward finally uncovered the true reason behind his departure—only to receive such a grand gift from him.

Edward wasn't inherently evil; among nobles, his character could even be considered kind and generous—but only when he chose to be. When he saw his little angel forcibly held in Wright's embrace, her blue eyes brimming with terrified tears, Edward summoned every ounce of restraint not to slash Wright dead in the kitchen.

Yet Edward had no desire to entertain this reckless prince any longer. He issued an expulsion order for Wright, which remained firm even when his aunt, Queen Josephine's lady-in-waiting, came pleading early the next morning. Edward cherished the familial affection his Aunt Josephine had shown him, but that did not mean he could indulge Wright as she had.

Lait clearly hadn't anticipated that he had restrained himself considerably this time, not even intending to lay a finger on the gentlemen and nobles of the duchy—for he had heard along the way that near Edward's Black Swan Castle, a young gentleman named Rogers Parr perfectly suited his tastes. Yet Wright had restrained himself. It was only when boredom struck during the endless royal balls and celebrations, and he stumbled upon a kitchen sweetheart, that he acted—still sparing him serious harm. And for that, he was expelled from his cousin's lands.

"If I'd known he was yours, I wouldn't have acted so recklessly," Wright grinned as he departed. Edward's face remained composed as he murmured, "I owe you no explanation, but I must remind you..."

Edward lowered his voice, his tone deep and measured. "I know what you're thinking. If you feel unvalued or unfairly treated, then follow your brother's example—prove yourself like a man! Acting recklessly like this only makes everyone despise you more."

Edward's words wiped the smile from Wright's face. He glanced at Edward, then suddenly grinned again. "Cousin," he murmured, "you know I don't want to be enemies. But you'd better keep a close eye on your little treasure. After all..." Wright drew out the syllables, his voice slick and cold as a snake. "I remember... he was so sweet. Unforgettable, right?"

With that, Wright smiled again. "Farewell, cousin. I'll come back to see you."

Beaming, he turned and climbed into his carriage, showing no trace of the madness he'd just unleashed upon Edward. Edward watched his carriage drive away, his face grim, then turned and walked back into the castle.

Meanwhile, Tang Feiliu was still dreaming.

Last night, he was startled by this incident. Edward spent a long time calming him down before Tang Feiliu finally settled. Tang Feiliu couldn't fathom why he feared Prince Wright so intensely. There was an inexplicable aura of bloodshed surrounding the man—an aura even Edward, dubbed the Devil's Son, had never evoked in him. That night, Tang Feiliu drifted into a drowsy sleep. In his dream, he was just a small child, his tiny legs carrying him dazedly through a crowd of adults. The crowd thinned until he stood before an ornate, grand door.

He pushed open the door and saw a noble youth in the corner embracing a woman in lavish attire, kissing her—the scene was far too explicit. Tang Feiliu was utterly stunned. The youth appeared under twenty, tall yet clearly not yet a young man. The woman, though dressed extravagantly and seductively alluring, was definitely over thirty.

A couple dressed in aristocratic finery with such a vast age gap? Tang Feiliu felt as if he were watching some old European soap opera. Feeling rather embarrassed, he turned to leave, only to hear the young man’s amused voice behind him: "Who let this little runt in?"

"What's your name?" the noblewoman beside him asked with a smile. Tang Feiliu felt a wave of dread wash over him. He stumbled backward, stumbling... He didn't know why, but this place was unfamiliar, the people before him were unfamiliar... Everything was unfamiliar, and everything terrified him.

He spun to flee, but his short legs and small frame made escape impossible. Suddenly, his whole body grew light as he was swiftly lifted up. Hanging in midair, he was turned to face the brown-haired youth. Though handsome, the boy wore a peculiar smile as he murmured softly, "Whose child are you? You look just like an angel from a mural..."

As he spoke, he gently tugged at Tang Feiliu's buttocks, attempting to pull him into his embrace.

Had he been a genuine child, Tang Feiliu would have sensed nothing amiss in this touch or these words. But Tang Feiliu was an adult. The teenager's tone and manner were almost flirtatious, that sickening, malicious intent laid bare before him. A child might not understand it, but a normal adult could absolutely feel the difference.

The noblewoman behind them laughed softly, cooing at the youth, "Your Majesty, leave the child be. Let us continue."

"You may step out first. I must attend to my little guest." Light emphasized the word "attend" slightly, his expression holding a smile. Yet the word "pervert" surged violently into Tang Feiliu's mind.

Ironically, at this crucial moment, the little one seemed to lose contact with Tang Feiliu. He stared blankly at everything unfolding—watching the woman leave in embarrassed anger, then feeling Prince Light carry him to the sofa and begin undressing him.

"How adorable, little one," Prince Wright murmured cheerfully, his eyes gleaming with an unnatural desire.

This was terrifying.

Tang Feiliu desperately tried to move, but he couldn't control this dream. He felt a chill on his skin, followed by a wave of warm caresses. He tried to shift, but was held fast. Light's smile vanished, replaced by a vicious expression as he growled, "Don't move, or I'll kill your parents!"

The threat made Tang Feiliu's body tense instantly. Tears streamed down his face in large drops, blurring the figure before him. His crying clearly pleased Wright, whose expression and breathing grew more urgent.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

Lait ignored it, but the knocking persisted relentlessly.

"Get lost!" Light roared. The person outside persisted in knocking. Enraged, Light stood up to open the door. Tang Feiliu saw a youth with dark hair and eyes standing there. He looked thin and silent, his entire being radiating a heavy aura of death.

"The Queen summons you immediately. It's urgent," the youth said softly. Wright was clearly furious, but the youth whispered something else. Cursing under his breath, Wright pulled on his clothes and headed out.

"Hm?" Tang Feiliu felt clothes being pulled over him, then found himself lifted. He looked up at the figure—though the features were much younger, he could swear it was Edward!

He tried to speak but couldn't. Edward carried him all the way back to the main hall, then found their parents at the spot indicated by young Lance.

"Don't wander off like that again," the younger Edward said softly, setting him down gently from a distance.

"Thank you, big brother." Though still young and not fully understanding, Lance sensed this man had saved him from something terrible. He hugged the older boy affectionately, flashing an angelic smile before planting a kiss on his cheek.

Edward's eyes widened as he watched Lance wave, calling, "Bye, big brother!" Then, swinging his little legs, he scampered toward his father.

Tang Feiliu opened his eyes, damp tears glistening at the corners. Suddenly, he understood what this dream was—it was Little Lance's dream. Years ago, Little Lance had been taken by his father to a noble banquet. The event had become the talk of the town due to the arrival of His Majesty, King Wright. Lance's father had spent a fortune to secure this opportunity, eager to mingle with the powerful.

While Lance's father was busy networking with the elite, Lance's older brother tricked him into playing hide-and-seek, intending to scare his younger sibling. But unexpectedly, little Lance nearly faced a life-threatening crisis that very night.

It was Edward who saved young Lance.

He had only recently arrived in the imperial capital himself, his position still precarious. The so-called summons from the Empress was likely a ruse... It was probable that Edward had learned something and deliberately saved the child.

"...Edward," Tang Feiliu watched as the duke quietly entered the room, intending to wake him. He couldn't hold back the tears welling in his eyes. Looking up at Edward, he stretched out his arms in a playful embrace. Edward scooped him up, asking with concern, "Why are you crying? Don't worry, I've already made sure that man left the territory."

"Edward," Tang Feiliu clung to him, burying his face in his chest and speaking in muffled sobs, "Do you remember over ten years ago, when you first entered the imperial city, you saved a child from Wright?"

He whispered to Edward, and only then did he understand why he feared Wright so deeply. It wasn't that he himself feared Wright—it was young Lance who dreaded this man. Though Lance himself couldn't recall it, the memory hadn't vanished; it lay buried deep. When confronted with it again one day, that profound sense of dread remained vividly present.

Tang Feiliu finally began to understand why he’d trusted Edward so quickly, found safety in him so swiftly, even drawn close without realizing it—and started acting a bit reckless. Deep within his memory, he’d witnessed this man’s gentlest side. Back then, he hadn’t been strong enough, but his heart was already resilient and tender, like a light in the darkness.

Edward's eyes widened as Tang Feiliu lifted his head, kissed both sides of his cheek, then slipped out of his embrace. "Thank you," Tang Feiliu said, sounding embarrassed, "for saving me once again."

Edward froze completely.