Yeah. Arkan thought. That’s the problem.

That was exactly the problem.

The fact that what Erdene and Pellahar said was somewhat, no, definitely not wrong was the biggest problem.

Pellahar curled his lips downward as if driving in a wedge.

“Honestly, it is like that. Isn’t it?”

Arkan, who had been fiercely frowning and mumbling as if he had bitten into something bitter, buried his face behind his palms.

His stiff shoulders heaved, and rough breaths escaped for a moment.

Arkan muttered.

“I think I made a mistake in getting married.”

Pellahar laughed hollowly.

“Suddenly regretting it at this point?”

The seething breaths ceased. And…

“Damn it! This is so frustrating!”

A cry caked with anger spread throughout Pellahar’s residence.

Although not visible, the attendants and maids standing guard here and there must have been startled and fallen backward.

Who cares? Arkan thought furiously.

No one told him, “Why are you shouting and making a fuss,” but he felt angry as if someone had said that.

No, he wished someone would come and pick a fight with him like that.

Arkan, who had been staring into the void as if suddenly deflated after shouting, said.

“This isn’t me. Like this…”

Arkan, frowning, covered his face with both hands again.

Then he let out a long groan as if someone had twisted his side.

Pellahar, who had been watching this scene half amusedly and half pitifully, tapped the ashes from his tobacco case and said.

“If you’re going crazy, just get a divorce.”

Arkan’s eyes were revealed between his fingers. His glaring gaze was so sharp that it felt like a cold wind was blowing.

“What did you say?”

Pellahar shrugged.

“You just need to pretend to be a couple on the surface, right? During the New Year, birthdays, festivals… Well, just show your faces together at those public events. I heard that your grandfather and grandmother did the same.”

“Thanks for the very helpful advice.”

With his face buried in his palms, Arkan’s pronunciation sounded quite slurred.

A moment of silence passed.

Pellahar, turning away from both the unfinished chessboard and Arkan, smoked his cigarette and slightly raised an eyebrow.

“If you do that, and if you’re okay with it, I don’t mind being Her Majesty’s lover.”

Arkan’s hands covering his face slid down. Then, a gaze incomparably more ferocious than before pierced Pellahar.

Even if Pellahar had said, “Give me the crown on your head,” he wouldn’t have glared at him so terrifyingly.

“I’ll stab you to death with my eyes.”

“I’m not in the mood for nonsense.”

“Who’s talking nonsense? I’m not talking nonsense either. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, right? I’m better than some bastard who came out of nowhere.”

In an instant, Pellahar’s casual words unfolded another unpleasant scene before Arkan’s eyes.

The scene of Erdene tightly embracing some “bastard” from the empire kept spinning endlessly in his mind.

Like an amusement ride that children ride during festivals, it spun around and around, faster and faster, causing dizziness.

And one more shocking thought hit the back of Arkan’s head.

“Pellahar, you… Don’t tell me you knew and didn’t say anything to me?”

Pellahar looked at Arkan in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Knew what, and didn’t say what?”

“About the queen. It seems she had a lover she left behind in the empire. You’re not implying that now, knowing it, are you?”

‘This is a serious case.’

Clicking his tongue inwardly, Pellahar slightly leaned his body toward Arkan, biting the mouthpiece between his teeth.

“What on earth are you talking about? A lover she left behind in the empire? Her Majesty? Who are you talking about?”

“Who cares who it is? They all look hideous anyway.”

Arkan grumbled and fell into thought for a moment.

That guy—he wanted to use harsher curses, but his last shred of morality stopped him, and it made him even more irritated—what did he look like? He couldn’t see his face.

But he looked short…

“I’m talking about the short one. The shortest one.”

“Short?”

Pellahar, who asked back in wonder, suddenly thought of Telma.

Among the captains who came from the empire, Telma was definitely the shortest.

“Telma? Are you talking about him? Her Majesty’s adjutant, I heard?”

“Oh, you even introduced yourselves?”

“No, I just overheard it. But he is Her Majesty’s… what? Lover? Are you sure about that?”

Arkan’s lips twitched silently. It was clear that he wasn’t sure.

Pellahar, who had been frowning strangely, said.

“Her Majesty was smiling with a look of relief, as if she had beaten that adjutant Telma half to death and released three years’ worth of pent-up frustration.”

Arkan’s lips twitched again. But this time, it was a slightly different expression.

As if Pellahar had tickled the tip of his nose with a fine feather, it was that kind of… twitch.

“I guess in Hirschstein, that’s how they express affection.”

“If you express affection twice like that, you’ll meet again after death.”

Arkan, who had rolled his lips inward, furrowed his brow. As he thought about it, that scene somehow came to his mind.

As if he had seen it directly.

The sight of Erdene gleefully beating up an adjutant of a similar build to him and smiling contentedly…

Then Pellahar said.

“But why do you have to get so angry about whether Her Majesty has a lover she left behind in the empire or not?”

Arkan glared at him again.

“Why do I have to get angry, you ask? Are you serious? She’s the person I married.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but… Leaving him behind in the empire means they were dating before she married you. Why are you angry about that? Didn’t you have a woman you secretly had feelings for before getting married?”

“Where would I have someone like that? What are you talking about?”

Pellahar deliberately replied leisurely as if to scratch his insides.

“Why are you getting so worked up? One night, it can happen.”

“I’m not that promiscuous.”

“I don’t see what’s promiscuous about two consenting adults enjoying a night together, Your Majesty.”

When Arkan’s eyes narrowed, Pellahar chuckled.

“Well, I guess our chaste Your Majesty could think that way.”

“You, get out. I’ll clear out this entire room and turn it into my storage.”

Arkan, who had kicked Pellahar’s ankle hard under the table, sank deep into his chair.

He felt tired and drained, as if he had walked for three days without a single day of rest.

Arkan, who had been slowly moving only his pupils as if counting the dust floating in the air, grumbled as if complaining.

“Every day since getting married has been nothing but confusing. This isn’t me. I can’t be myself.”

“Yourself?”

Pellahar smirked.

The calm and rational king in every matter, the pride of Bethor, wise, generous, and virtuous.

That would be the “way I am” that Arkan was referring to, and he couldn’t help but laugh thinking about it.

When he was young, Arkan, who grew up tumbling around with Pellahar like twin brothers, was never such a child.

He was stubborn, hated losing, and often sulked. He also played mischievous pranks.

Back then, Platt, who was still young, was the most frequent victim of their pranks.

‘But all of that disappeared overnight.’

When Arkan’s brother, Aillis, died at the young age of ten, Arkan’s world completely changed.

At that time, Arkan and Pellahar were seven years old. The following year, at the age of eight, Arkan became the new crown prince.

Aillis’s death confused many people.

The former king, Arkan’s father and Pellahar’s uncle, was a wise man, but he lost his wit, generosity, and judgment in the face of his eldest son’s death.

He would act as if his son Aillis never existed, but when admonishing Arkan, he would say, “Your brother…”

And then he would be startled himself and sometimes vent unnecessary anger.

The reason Pellahar could be free from such a precarious environment was probably because the former king loved his own brother very much.

Why couldn’t he show such generosity to his own son?

‘This is how he originally was. It’s almost as if he had been wearing a mask all this time.’

Pellahar thought. But he couldn’t say that directly to Arkan.

He could only feel sorry for him. And feel a bit of complicated jealousy.

“Arkan, listen to me. You and Her Majesty grew up completely differently in entirely different countries, right? And then you became husband and wife overnight, so wouldn’t it be strange if you didn’t clash and feel confused? Just enjoy this chaotic time.”

Arkan grumbled.

“You talk as if you know everything without even being married. There are other things to enjoy, how can I enjoy this? I can’t even focus on work because my head is a mess all day.”

“If workaholic Your Majesty can’t even work because you’re thinking about Her Majesty, it must be a big deal indeed.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

Pellahar grinned with the mouthpiece of his pipe between his teeth.

“Look at this, you’re not even denying it?”

Only then did Arkan reflect on what he had said.

Pellahar said with a snicker.

“You mean you can’t do anything all day because you’re thinking about Her Majesty, right?”