Episode 4

“Yes, Your Highness, it feels so good!”

Meanwhile, another woman seated next to the man—Duke Baden—rose from her position and leaned closer to him, whispering something against his ear with a sultry smile.

“Your Highness, I am Arman Rose.”

The Duke, who seemed to have forgotten that he was not just any man but the younger brother of the Felphe King and the president of the Felphe Bank, let out a low laugh and pulled her closer, clearly enjoying the attention lavished upon him. Around them, the room buzzed with soft laughter and murmured flattery, each woman vying to catch his eye.

“Haa… ah… That’s good,” he murmured, gesturing lazily for her to stay close.

Beside him, another indulgent scene was unfolding—laughter, whispered teasing, and the clink of glasses passed carelessly from hand to hand.

The room was thick with the scent of spilled liquor and perfume, the noise of raucous laughter and half-finished toasts filling the air. The velvet sofa, once a piece of art in its own right, now bore the careless marks of a night of excess. Jackets and shawls lay discarded across the floor, and the expensive liquor, costing hundreds of Kertes per drop, was poured freely, spilling over the rims of glasses no one bothered to steady.

At this moment, in this room where an astronomical amount of money was being squandered, not a single person was left in their right mind. Thus, even when the door was thrown open with such a loud crash, nobody within the room managed to process what was happening.

With a wry smile, Oscar watched the guests who had shed not only their composure but their dignity and reason as well, laughing and carrying on like fools who thought themselves untouchable. He gestured for the men who had followed him to stay back and then leisurely entered the den of indulgence while the grand Duke’s secretary hurried to close the door behind him.

Oscar settled on the sofa opposite the Duke, who was flushed and breathless, thoroughly enjoying the attentions of the women beside him. Lighting a cigarette, Oscar calmly inhaled while the Duke’s secretary frantically tried to rouse his master from his stupor.

“Your Highness, Your Highness!”

The Duke, still caught up in his own amusement, growled irritably at the hand tapping him on the back.

“What is it now?”

“Your Highness, please…”

“Who the hell let you in?!”

The secretary, on the verge of tears, pointed shakily ahead, and both the Duke and the guests followed his finger with their eyes.

“…”

“…”

“…”

Sitting comfortably with one leg crossed over the other was a man smoking a cigarette.

Amidst the stunned silence, Oscar chuckled before addressing the Duke.

“Please, do continue. I can wait a little longer.”

His voice was low, dripping with sarcasm, and the moment he finished speaking, the Duke straightened abruptly, all traces of ease vanishing from his face. The women beside him quickly drew back, and the guests who had been reveling scrambled to compose themselves, snatching up their discarded garments in a hurry.

The drinks spilt on the table in the chaos, and glasses shattered on the floor.

“I told you to take your time.”

The remark was delivered in a tone as casual as the puff of smoke that accompanied it, and though Oscar was smiling, there was something cold and haughty about his expression.

The movements of the Duke of Baden, who had been clumsily trying to compose himself with the robe his secretary handed him, suddenly halted. Whatever thought crossed his mind, he tossed the robe aside and straightened his posture instead. He then fixed his gaze on the young Duke, still lounging carelessly, smoking a cigarette, and spat out his contemptuous words.

“Get out, all of you.”

The guests and companions he had brought with him moved as if they had been waiting for the command. As they hurriedly left, the Duke grabbed the arm of the woman who had been seated beside him.

“Y-Your Highness?”

“You sit there and pour the drinks.”

With that, he sat back down heavily on the sofa, still wrapped in his robe, resuming his air of idle indulgence. He leaned deeply into the back of the sofa and with a casual flick of his finger, towards his secretary, who quickly handed him a cigarette. As he took a long drag, matching the slothful posture of Oscar, who sat directly across from him, the secretary leaned close to his ear and quickly whispered the news he had not yet had the chance to deliver.

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