I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Chapter 280: The Surprisingly Beautiful Scenery

"If this reckless behavior carries on, I believe I will have no choice but to physically lift you up to your chambers, Your Highness."

The flat, unimpressed tone didn’t even make Yerel blink. He simply tilted his glass, letting the deep crimson wine wash over his tongue as he leaned his forearms heavily against the railing of the high balcony. His violet eyes, slightly hazy from the alcohol, were fixed entirely on the center of the crowded ballroom floor below.

Specifically, he was watching Cherion and Philia dance.

Yerel swirled the remaining liquid in his glass, a rare, thoughtful expression softening his usually arrogant features. He couldn’t deny it, watching the two of them move together was one of the few things he had found to be an genuinely beautiful scenery all evening. They were both striking men, moving with a fierce, burning intensity that seemed to push the rest of the high nobility straight out of the spotlight. For a moment, the heavy, suffocating politics of the banquet seemed to fade into pure, captivating artistry.

"Is that not one of your official duties, Karson?" Yerel asked, his voice dripping with smooth, lazy amusement as he glanced sideways at his aide. "To assist the Crown Prince when he is temporarily incapacitated?"

Karson stood half a step behind the prince’s shoulder, his hands clasped precisely behind his back. His immaculate suit didn’t have a single crease, but the set of his jaw was uncharacteristically rigid. "Technically, yes, Your Highness. But as your aide, my preferred advice would be to avoid the state of total incapacitation altogether. It saves us both the loss of dignity."

Yerel let out a low, amused huff, turning his attention back to the dance floor. He watched as Cherion executed a sharp, aggressive spin, sending Philia’s silk suit billowing under the grand chandeliers.

"Tell me, Karson," Yerel said, lifting his chalice to his lips once more. "Why do you sound like someone in a thoroughly foul mood when you are supposed to be in an exceptionally good one tonight?"

Karson’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed by a fraction of a millimeter behind his spectacles. "I beg your pardon, Your Highness?"

"Don’t play dumb with me. It doesn’t suit someone with your intelligence," Yerel chuckled, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. He rested his chin in his palm, shooting a knowing look at Karson and his green hair. "Didn’t you just finish having a nice, private little chat out on the terrace with the Northern Duke’s aide? Flio?"

The silence that settled over the balcony alcove was instant and heavy.

Karson didn’t flinch. He didn’t shift his weight. He simply stared straight ahead, his voice dropping into a flat, thoroughly professional cadence that was entirely devoid of emotion. "We were merely sharing casual inquiries regarding each other’s well-being, Your Highness. As representatives of our respective factions, a baseline level of courtesy is required to maintain diplomatic decorum."

"Casual inquiries?" Yerel raised a skeptical eyebrow, his smirk widening as he caught the subtle, rigid tension in Karson’s broad shoulders. "My, my. How incredibly formal. It is truly too bad that there isn’t anything more than that happening between you two. From what I recall of your academy days, your ’courtesy’ used to involve a lot more fire."

Karson didn’t say a single word in response. He remained perfectly still, his eyes locked onto the distant marble pillars across the hall, entirely shutting down the line of questioning. He knew better than anyone that when the Crown Prince was in a gossiping mood, the safest defense was just absolute silence.

Down on the floor, the orchestra suddenly hit a massive, dramatic crescendo. The sweeping violins and roaring brass instruments echoed powerfully through the vaulted ceilings, drawing the waltz to a theatrical finish.

Yerel watched with genuine fascination as Cherion and Philia snapped into their final, high-tension pose. They were thrown far apart, hands locked, eyes burning into one another with enough unspoken hostility to launch a small war. It was breathtakingly dramatic.

As the music died completely, a sudden, heavy silence gripped the ballroom before the crowd erupted into a loud, thunderous wave of applause.

Up on the balcony, Yerel was the one who also gave a slow, deliberate clap. He brought his hands together, a genuine smile breaking across his face as he watched Cherion immediately drop Philia’s hand, spinning around to practically flee into the safety of the crowded shadows like a startled cat.

"Brilliant," Yerel whispered to himself, setting his empty silver chalice down on the velvet-lined ledge. The hazy amusement in his eyes faded, replaced by something darker and more intent as he tracked Cherion through the nobles.

He stared down at the center of the floor where Philia was now gracefully bowing to the remaining audience, his angelic smile perfectly back in place. Then, his eyes drifted back toward the shadows where Cherion was being greeted by the towering, formidable figure of Zarius, the Duke of the North. The sight of Cherion looking so visibly relieved to be back by the Duke’s side sent a strange, sharp pang of irritation straight through Yerel’s chest.

Yerel stood up straight, brushing a stray speck of dust from his new pristine suit. He let out a long, quiet breath, his gaze lingering on the distant, dark-haired young master who used to spend every waking hour weeping at his feet, but now looked entirely out of his reach.

"Hey, Karson," Yerel spoke softly, his voice suddenly losing its lazy, mocking edge as he looked at his administrator.

Karson shifted his gaze, his professional focus instantly returning to his master. "Yes, Your Highness?"

Yerel turned back to look down at the ballroom one last time, his violet eyes locking onto the exact spot where Cherion and Philia had just shared their fierce, passionate battle of a dance. A heavy, complicated question hung in the air between them as he asked the final, lingering thought plaguing his mind.

"Do you think there’s any way Cherion and Philia could become friends?"