Drunkenness

Alexander's vision went black. Hadn't Lawrence just entered and caught him, Alexander might have collapsed right then and there.

The atmosphere between those two was undeniably palpable—an unbreakable sweetness, especially with Edward’s usual hint of aggression completely subdued. He looked like a sated black panther, lazily swishing his tail.

Tang Feiliu, wrapped in Edward’s arms, nestled against him. She listened to Edward’s deep voice narrating a fairy tale while gazing up at him with a silly grin.

Sometimes words weren't necessary. The aura radiating from them and the surge of hormones were enough to make anyone guess whether they'd spent a wonderful night together.

But just as Alexander felt utterly helpless, his sharp eyes caught sight of the ring that had suddenly appeared on Tang Feiliu's finger.

Alexander was keenly aware of such things—he was, after all, a seasoned adult. Seeing that ring, he steadied Ivans, offered a grateful smile, and swallowed the bitter pill in his heart.

At least... it seemed his foolish younger brother had truly found someone who cherished him above all else.

As Alexander pondered this, he saw Tang Feiliu had already spotted him. Nestled in Edward's embrace, she was wriggling to shift her position, her slight discomfort visible in the curve of her body.

Edward, visibly tense, gently pinched his waist and lifted him up, adjusting his position to face Alexander. Alexander glanced at Edward. Several years older than Tang Feiliu and raised as an heir, he had at least learned to keep his emotions in check. He sat down to chat with Tang Feiliu for a moment, mentioning the dessert shop and making plans to meet him there for a meal in a couple of days before quickly taking his leave.

Otherwise, Alexander feared he might lose his temper with the Duke, risking the shocking news of a lord's murder. Alexander felt genuinely desolate. That child was the angel of the Doug family, a treasure his mother had sacrificed her life to bring into the world. His father had always told him to protect his little brother well. a tiny, soft bundle he'd guided through childhood. He'd taught him to spell his own name, watched his blue eyes sparkle like stars when he tasted cake for the first time, and carried him around muddy patches to keep his feet clean.

Tang Feiliu was still a child. In every sense, it was clear this boy knew nothing of the ways of the world. But the Tang Feiliu he saw today was different. Though still innocent, a hint of mature charm had settled in his eyes.

Forcing himself to recall that emerald snake ring, Alexander told himself to endure it—just think of it as Lance marrying a man! But the image of Lance’s husband towering over him, holding Tang Feiliu like a grizzly bear clutching its prey… Alexander felt a burning ache in his chest.

Thus, upon leaving the castle, Alexander stumbled and headed straight for the tavern.

The tavern was open during the day, serving simple meals, but Alexander had no appetite for food. He ordered a large mug of malt beer and immediately began drowning his sorrows.

The first sip revealed a faint tartness in the malt beer, yet for some reason, it felt particularly potent. Having arrived in town not long ago and not yet having had a chance to drink elsewhere, Alexander didn't know that all the liquor in Black Swan was exceptionally renowned. After all, the fastest way for Edward to make money these days was through high-proof spirits.

Though the distillation method itself wasn't permitted to be shared, the Black Swan offered these potent spirits at relatively affordable prices. so the tavern stocked not only traditional drinks but also placed small orders directly from the distillery. Wealthy merchants visiting the Black Swan often sought a drink, and when satisfied, they promptly placed repeat orders of varying quantities—effectively boosting the distillery's business. Consequently, the distillery manager offered favorable pricing to local taverns and inns.

Alexander knew none of this. In truth, his arrival at the Black Swan hadn't deceived Edward—he'd genuinely steeled himself to risk life and limb. As the heir to the Doug family and Lance's older brother, certain duties demanded his attention. Yet after probing the situation, it became clear His Grace the Duke cared for Lance far more than Alexander had anticipated. This unexpected devotion even made Alexander feel fortunate for his foolish younger brother.

Yet this couldn't dispel Alexander's lingering melancholy—after all, he'd missed his brother's most crucial formative years. Upon Lance's return, the Duke had taken him in. Before Alexander could savor their reunion, the Doug family treasure had already been claimed by another...

Analyzing this sentiment honestly, it resembled the emptiness felt by an empty-nester after their only child left home. To call it picky would be fair—even the most greedy person would be astonished by everything His Grace Edward had done. But to call it pure joy? There was joy, certainly. After all, that foolish younger brother had endured so many perilous adventures—one misstep could have branded him an ill omen. Now, with a powerful protector by his side, Alexander felt at ease...

Yet, there remains an emptiness, a profound sadness.

Alexander drowned his sorrows in drink until his eyes grew heavy, then suddenly heard faint sobbing from the next booth amidst the clamor of drinking.

In the noisy tavern, the sound went largely unnoticed. But it was close to Alexander. He heard it and instinctively turned his head. Even in his drunken haze, he was still somewhat startled—taverns were men's territory. The presence of children or women here was truly astonishing.

That woman... no, she seemed more like a girl. Barely eighteen or nineteen, with red hair and pale skin, she wore a tattered hat and held what appeared to be the cheapest rye whiskey. She seemed deeply saddened, and as she drank, clear tears welled up in her eyes.

Alexander was drunk, and in that moment, his mood seemed to merge with the poor girl's. He looked at her and asked softly, "Little girl, how did you end up in this chaotic place?"

The girl lifted her head, her cheekbones dotted with faint freckles. Her deep brown eyes were now completely drenched in tears. She sobbed, "...I'm going to die anyway. What does it matter to me if this place is chaotic!"

Her words sent a chill through Alexander, sobering him slightly. He asked anxiously, "Are you ill?"

"No!" The girl seemed bitterly resigned as she replied bluntly, "I'm the second daughter of the Vincents from the mountain. My brother hasn't given me a penny for a dowry. In fact, to make a little extra money, he's going to sell me to Baron Anderson in the York countryside for a sum of money... He's fifty years old!"

Baron Anderson... doesn't he already have a grandson? " Alexander was drunk, struggling to think clearly. It took him a long time before the face of a pale, flabby old man finally formed in his mind. Baron Anderson owned his own beautiful estate, rumored to have decent harvests, yielding at least nearly a thousand pounds annually... But he was far too old. Setting aside whether he could even impregnate a woman, Baron Anderson already had an heir!

If this young lady married him, even if she miraculously conceived, she'd have no inheritance rights whatsoever. She might be driven from the family estate in the future, forced to raise the child alone.

No wonder the young lady said she felt like dying. For a respectable young woman of today, such a marriage was nothing short of a dead end.

Alexander felt utterly disheartened listening to this. Though not strikingly beautiful, the red-haired girl before him was still quite pretty. She was so young—how could her brother be so heartless, condemning her to such a dreadful fate?

If Alexander had a sister like her, he would fight tooth and nail to ensure her happiness.

But Alexander had no way to intervene in such matters. He listened with anguish, while the girl spoke with surprising ease. After her rapid-fire tale, a complete story unfolded before Alexander's eyes— the heiress born to his first wife, his eldest daughter, and the daughter born to his second wife. Old Vincent died suddenly and unexpectedly. The young man who loved Miss Vincent wished to marry his beloved, but Miss Vincent's brother, the legitimate heir, refused to pay her dowry... Consequently, the family of Miss Vincent's lover also chose to wait and see about the marriage between her and their son.

Two years passed, from age seventeen to nineteen. Miss Vincent was about to become a spinster in society. Her lover had already decided to marry a new love, when Miss Vincent received a marriage proposal arranged by her brother.

Her brother did not want to be seen as having delayed his sister's marriage. Most crucially, Miss Vincent Laura's half-sister, the Vincent family's eldest daughter Jenny, was the very woman Laura's lover intended to marry!

Laura had no dowry, while Jenny intended to bring two hundred pounds into her marriage! Thus, it was clear the matter was nearly settled without Laura's knowledge. Vincent sought to use Laura's marriage to secure the Baron's dowry gift beforehand. This would fund a splendid wedding for his sister while sparing Laura the awkwardness of attending and preventing accusations that Vincent was unkind—stealing his own sister's lover from her half-sister.

Laura Vincent's reaction? She gave a sinister little laugh, then slurred drunkenly, "I plan to kill myself before that happens. He won't get a penny from selling me off to pay for Jenny's wedding... especially not to that bastard Ross!"

Her words were resolute, but they came from a place of utter desperation.

After Laura's eldest brother inherited the estate, her mother would have to leave. Had the family been prosperous, or her son less unreasonable, she might have taken her dowry with her—but clearly, there were reasons why Laura's mother, the daughter of a gentleman, had married a man who already had an heir.

Like having no dowry, like her family's fortunes having declined, like... her family having been inherited by outsiders.

Just like Laura today.

"What good is death? Only the living can torment those they despise!" Alexander—whether drunk or driven by something else—slammed his hand on the table. "Do you know how to read? Can you do arithmetic?!"

"Both," Miss Laura answered blankly, the menacing edge vanishing. She stared at the blond-haired, green-eyed gentleman before her, his drunken gaze unfocused. Though she didn't understand, she was desperate to vent today. She pressed on, "Don't look at how miserable I am now. When Father was alive, I had my own tutor!"

"Fine. Then let me offer you a position. Why don't you hold off on dying for now?" Alexander himself wasn't entirely sure what he was doing at that moment. He'd strolled up to the castle, and since the shop had only recently opened, Dan was busy managing things inside. So when Alexander waved his hand grandly and spoke with such bravado, Miss Laura didn't take him seriously. She burst out laughing and said, " "Alright, sir, what position could you possibly offer me? A factory worker? My brother wouldn't let me leave home for that."

"...No, let me think..." Alexander, emboldened by the alcohol, blurted out, "Head maid? Hmm... Or how about trying to be my housekeeper?"

"Housekeeper? That sounds rather nice... but my brother would never agree." Miss Laura smiled, her tone sincere. "Still, thank you for trying to help me. Goodbye, kind sir."

Her dazzling smile made her freckles seem to dance. Turning, she walked away, her large braid swinging behind her. The worn, round hat on her head reflected a faint glow in the candlelight. Upon closer inspection, one could see it had once been made of fine, high-quality material.

Alexander finally lost consciousness completely, crashing onto the table with a thud.

Beside him, the young man with the low-brimmed hat stirred. He came over to lift Alexander, intending to carry the drunken man out of the tavern.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Morimoto Akinaw for the inspiration.