Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Quenching Fire with a Bigger Fire
As Luang had feared, the events of yesterday had already spread as rumors.
Even someone of Bianca Laskatchi’s status had nearly been humiliated, and Angela had intervened again at that moment.
That alone was scandalous enough.
But what made it even juicier came afterward.
If Angela had tormented Bianca and laughed at her, that would have been ordinary. Such things happened constantly in noble society. People stepping on each other, making others cry, gossiping behind backs—it was nothing new.
But she forgave her.
That changed everything.
Nobles were accustomed to revenge, but not forgiveness. While religion preached forgiveness as a virtue, reality was always the opposite.
Naturally, this made the story spread further.
Luang noticed the extra attention while sparring with the royal guard.
Even before the swords clashed a few times, it was noticeable. Today, his opponent’s focus was half gone, distracted by more than just the fight.
A face more intrigued by gossip than swordplay.
Eventually, Luang stopped the sparring after breaking a sweat. Sitting down, he cleaned the sword with a whetstone and finally spoke.
“Curious about the rumors, are we?”
“Eh? Ah, y-yes…”
As soon as he said this, the surrounding guards began gathering—slowly at first, but fairly quickly.
Most of the royal guard near Luang were young men. Naturally, they were passionate enough to spar directly with him.
And young men at that age were very interested in women and romance. Add in royal romance, and their curiosity peaked even further.
“I suppose it’s about time I find a marriage partner,” Luang said.
“Ohhh…”
The reaction was immediate and lively. It was clear the young men responded more to talk of marriage than swordplay—they were still very young.
Luang casually pointed at someone.
“Have you married?”
“No, I haven’t. My family is still arranging it,” the young guard said awkwardly, shaking his head with a smile.
In truth, part of the reason the young guards here hadn’t married yet was because of Luang.
Luang was of royal blood, yet flawed—officially insane.
Therefore, the nobles who wanted royal blood in their houses were careful, saving eligible young ladies rather than using them recklessly.
A commodity, indeed.
In this world, political marriages were essentially transactions. Profit, exchange value, and timing dictated everything.
So the rumor that Luang was back on the marriage market could unsettle several noble houses.
It was not irrelevant even to these young guards.
If Luang married, the young ladies previously unavailable would be back on the market, creating new opportunities for them.
That made them perk up even more.
“But all of this depends on His Majesty, of course,” Luang added casually.
“Unless the prince is not satisfied with a non-grand-noble, I suppose,” he continued.
Upon hearing this, one guard could no longer contain himself.
“And what about Miss Goldrun…”
“So that’s what you wanted to ask,” Luang smiled.
The guard’s face reddened. Luang felt a small satisfaction.
“That’s more like young men,” he thought.
At social gatherings, people tended to hide behind decorum, wrapping every word carefully. But the young guards were different: if curious, they asked; if surprised, they showed it; if amused, their eyes lit up.
That candidness pleased him.
It reminded him of how people at a drinking party react to marriage rumors—straightforward and eager.
Here, the guards were like students listening wide-eyed to their strict teacher’s first love story.
Luang intentionally shifted the topic slightly.
“By the way, does anyone personally know Miss Goldrun?”
No one raised a hand.
“How curious,” he murmured.
A guard spoke cautiously after a moment.
“I don’t know her personally, but I know the Goldrun cosmetics.”
“Cosmetics?”
Luang himself didn’t know much about Angela. Foolish, oddly lewd, and likely a vessel for another consciousness—that was it.
“Yes. I’ve heard she researches shampoos, conditioners, perfumes, and other cosmetics herself.”
“Oh…”
Luang looked slightly surprised.
He recalled hearing rumors that the Goldruns used shampoo instead of soap, prompting him to try it before—it wasn’t bad. And now, learning Angela herself created these products, it seemed like a clever tool to open the nobles’ wallets.
‘Even a slug can roll occasionally,’ he thought.
Briefly, he considered whether she made things for convenience—maybe even mobile phones—but dismissed it. Shampoos were one thing; semiconductors were another.
Still, she seemed a vessel and familiar with the world’s flow. That made her impossible to ignore.
Without stopping his whetstone work, Luang casually said,
“So that’s why it smelled so good?”
“…!”
The guards’ expressions immediately shifted. Previously curious about rumors, now they were visibly excited.
Luang found their reactions amusing, slowly sharpening his sword while casually asking the next question.
“Have the events on the veranda spread as rumors too?”
“…Yes.”
“What kind of rumor?”
“Well… on the veranda… ahem,” one guard coughed, trying to resist saying more.
Luang clicked his tongue internally. Angela’s shouting must have carried well into the estate; curtains aside, full soundproofing was impossible.
But he hadn’t expected the nobles’ imagination to run so wild.
‘Do they think I did something outside?’
Luang had been a pure-hearted man, never properly holding a woman’s hand.
Yet society was already casting him as a Casanova.
He had expected scandalous gossip to be rampant, but seeing it firsthand was impressive.
“So, our bodies supposedly overlapped?”
“Yes! Ah, y-yes!”
One guard reflexively shouted, then quickly lowered his voice after noticing surrounding eyes.
Luang laughed.
“That’s alright. Is it something to be ashamed of?”
He continued calmly.
“We were born from our parents’ love. Love is neither shameful nor something to hide.”
“Yes! Hahaha, that’s right!”
They laughed, but Luang internally felt conflicted.
The time for choosing a fiancée was approaching. Low-grade scandalous gossip was unwelcome.
Should he deny it directly? That would be the worst move.
Even here, strong denial often strengthened belief—denying would only make it sound more scandalous.
So he changed the approach.
“But isn’t that too early?”
The guards quieted.
“Before betrothal or children, to engage intimately with a lover? Nobles must take responsibility first.”
“Hmm, that’s true,” they agreed.
Good. He laid down the correct principle first.
What mattered most to nobles was legitimate heirs. A lover’s child had limited claim, though exceptions existed if raised and empowered properly.
The wealthier the noble, the more they prioritized official marriage and heirs.
Luang finished by slowly smiling.
“I noticed something when Miss Goldrun approached me first.”
The guards focused.
“Perhaps all young nobles secretly carry a fiery passion within, just like her.”
“…”
Though their mouths were closed, their eyes told a different story. Young blood was hot by nature.
“The head of your house may decide your fate for the family’s sake,” Luang said quietly.
“But you are nobles yourselves. Acting for love—would that truly be a fault?”
“No!”
One guard leapt to his feet, shouting. His reaction was too passionate—he probably had someone in mind.
Luang gently concluded.
“Before youth passes, it’s good to act without regrets. That is the advice I wanted to give.”
“…Thank you for your words.”
“An interesting story indeed.”
Several guards’ expressions had clearly changed. Where they had once been mere spectators of someone else’s romance, they now imagined themselves in the story.
Good. That was enough.
Now the tale spreading through the banquet hall would change.
It would no longer be scandalous gossip about Luang and Miss Goldrun. Instead, it would become a story of the young guards’ first passionate love.
The tabloids always sought new sparks. They preferred stories just igniting over ones that had cooled.
Whether some of these guards succeeded in confessing didn’t matter. Love, like stocks, carried risk—failure was their own responsibility.