The Hidden Alpha Male Doesn't Hide His Power - 4

We took a taxi and arrived at the hotel where the party hosted by the powers that be was being held.

With the Association involved, I expected the place to be thoroughly extravagant.

I should get my license as soon as I can.

The moment we pulled up in front of the tall, imposing hotel, I let out a sigh. My determination to get a driver's license the second Marie came home only grew stronger.

"This way, I believe."

As we entered the lobby, Janette took the lead. Camilla, Henri, and I fell in behind her. Trailing after Janette in a little line, we looked exactly like a mother duck and her ducklings.

I blinked at the freestanding directory board planted in front of the elevators. A party in a wedding hall. That alone told me there would be more guests than I'd expected.

"Oh. Quite a few people have lost their minds over the Saint's tits, haven't they?"

While we waited for an elevator to come down, Camilla crossed her arms and dropped a line guaranteed to make anyone listening flinch—delivered not in her usual archaic lilt, but in thoroughly modern speech.

"Please refrain from such vulgar expressions."

As expected. Henri was the first to scowl and speak up. With a glare that sharp, he looked capable of cutting people just by looking at them.

"Humans are vulgar by nature. They put on a show of refinement, but the moment they cross their limits, their eyes go right there, don't they?"

Camilla abruptly turned the arrow on me. Having that particular subject aimed my way was enough to make cold sweat prickle along my spine.

"Well… I suppose so, in a way."

The Saint's holy-power pouches—her maternal affection pouches—were hard not to notice. If it had been just the three of us, I would have said as much out loud. With Henri standing right there, though, I couldn't spit out the raw answer. So I offered an awkward, noncommittal reply instead.

"And what does our Saint think?"

This time Camilla's question swung toward Janette, her mouth twisting as if she knew exactly why I had given such a tepid answer.

"It is rather revealing clothing, so of course people look. It's a dress meant to be seen."

Janette's gaze drifted naturally down to her own chest. The dress had a generous plunge, and the volume filling it was considerable. If she lowered her head, you wouldn't even be able to see her toes.

Yeah. That would be hard to resist.

While I privately savored the view, Janette turned her head toward me. Worry filled her expression.

"More importantly—are you sure you're all right? You hate drawing attention."

"It's fine. Living in hiding forever is a pain. It's going to come out someday anyway."

You could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hide a relationship, but marriage was nearly impossible. With guests from Janette's side attending, word was bound to leak. I had still meant to keep it quiet for as long as I could—but since things had come to this, I decided to go with the flow. Besides, I wasn't keen on other men approaching this charming woman either.

Ding. Right on cue, the elevator arrived. We rode it smoothly up to the thirty-second floor.

"Ah…! Welcome. It is an honor to meet you, Saint."

The next moment, as we approached the entrance to the banquet hall, the eyes of the security guard stationed out front went wide. Even as he offered his greeting, open fluster showed all over his face.

"Yes. We received an invitation. May we go in?"

At Janette's question, the guard nodded quickly.

"Of course. And the people behind you—are they your party?"

"They participated in an operation with me. When I was contacted, I was told separate invitations wouldn't be necessary… Is that not the case?"

"Ah, of course. Please go right in."

The Saint's face was a free pass; the doors opened without any trouble. Judging by the way he handled us, he had almost certainly been ordered not to obstruct any special guests.

Is this the place I'm thinking of?

As soon as we stepped inside, my eyes sharpened of their own accord. It was the same venue that showed up constantly in wedding videos and photos of celebrity couples—identical in feel. The dark wall tones, the brightness of the ceiling, the tables draped in white cloths with floral arrangements, the glittering place settings… extravagance taken to the extreme.

They make a lot of money. Or maybe it's just that the government has money to burn.

From what I had casually looked up, the daily rental fee ran over twenty million won. The atmosphere alone pressed that expense into your bones.

"Pretty lavish, huh? They must have put a lot of work into this."

Camilla blinked as she took in the surroundings. Even to an aristocrat's eye the scene looked thoroughly splendid, and she seemed mildly astonished. Beyond the décor, the faces of the many people already settled in and murmuring among themselves completed the picture. Calling it a banquet of high nobility—or even royalty—would not have been an overstatement.

"They must have. Which only makes it more burdensome."

As if playing along, Janette answered in a small voice. She looked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thoroughly uncomfortable.

Camilla asked,

"You should've worn something more comfortable, then."

"At a place like this, comfortable clothes only make you more uncomfortable. There are already plenty of people with loose tongues, and dressing casually only makes them worse."

"Ah. Playing the modest type? Yeah, I get it."

Camilla's head bobbed up and down lightly, as if the explanation made perfect sense. I shared the thought and nodded quietly along, sweeping the room with a quick glance as I did.

"Oh, if it isn't the Saint. Welcome. We are truly fortunate and honored that you could join us."

A middle-aged man who had been standing some distance away approached at a measured pace, making a show of how glad he was to see her. I had seen that face on television before—during a special broadcast about his inauguration as President of the Korean Awakened Association.

"Yes, Mr. President. Thank you so much for the warm welcome."

Janette took the hand he offered and exchanged greetings. His grip was suitably firm, his manner properly respectful; there was nothing to fault.

Still holding her hand, the Association President turned his eyes toward the rest of us.

"You two were with the Saint as well, weren't you? I feel as though I've seen you before."

At his question, Henri simply nodded in silence. Even though he had been studying Korean, he was clearly pretending not to understand.

"Seeing such an esteemed personage again is a real pleasure."

Camilla, by contrast, answered with a smirk that made her look like an insolent, ill-mannered criminal. It suited the cover story of someone who had lived a rough and difficult life.

"As expected. Age may have caught up with me, but my memory is still fairly sharp. And yet… the gentleman beside you is someone I don't believe I've met."

The Association President gave a hearty laugh and locked eyes with me. Beneath a gaze that at first glance looked benevolent, the question Who are you? lay coiled and waiting—along with a touch of arrogance.

"This man… is the one who will become my partner."

Janette lowered her eyes slightly, then linked her arm through mine for all to see. Deep in her gaze, a faint flicker of displeasure showed. She had clearly had the same thought I had.

"…Good heavens."

The Association President's eyes went round with shock. News of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Saint's marriage would be a global scandal; his reaction was only natural.

"Remarkable. When exactly…?"

"That's a secret, so I hope you'll understand. He finds being the center of attention burdensome. He prefers things quiet."

A soft yet firm curve settled on Janette's lips. Do not take an excessive interest. Read more broadly, it was a nail driven in: Don't bother sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. From my perspective, I was grateful.

"Understood. Still, we ought at least to exchange introductions. A pleasure to meet you."

"The honor is mine, meeting such a renowned Association President."

He bowed first; I bowed a fraction lower. In my own way, it was a signal that I respected his authority—not because I truly did, but so that he would believe I did.

"Haha. This is truly such shocking news that my head is still spinning. I may even forget my toast today."

The Association President lifted his head with an awkward laugh. As befitting a man in his position, he recovered from the shock with impressive speed.

"Well then, if you'll excuse me. Dinner will begin after the toast, so please enjoy yourselves."

"Yes. Thank you."

He left at an unhurried pace and mounted the dais that served as the master of ceremonies' platform.

Tap, tap.

He tapped the microphone, and the sound rolled out across the banquet hall.

"Ah… since I'm sure everyone is hungry, I'll keep this short. I'm hungry myself."

The Association President's joke drew laughter from the crowd. Some of it was the polished, social kind of laugh; some of it seemed genuinely amused. Everyone felt it differently.

"I cannot make a grand announcement of the details, but every person present here rendered distinguished service in the difficult incident that recently occurred. This gathering was prepared to offer you some comfort, so please enjoy yourselves. Thank you."

With that, the Association President finished his remarks and slowly stepped down from the dais. Thunderous applause followed him.

He really did keep it short.

Usually that kind of line is empty talk. Seeing someone actually follow through felt surprisingly refreshing.

"Shall we start with the food, then?"

Janette's gaze swung toward the long row of dishes lined up in the corner. Her combative approach to meals was the same as ever—a lesson learned on the battlefield: eat whenever you can. Following that same lesson, I started piling food onto my plate as well. Henri and Camilla did the same.

Even taking generous portions and eating in silence, none of them looked greedy; they ate with dignity. Janette's and Henri's looks alone made every gesture of theirs seem refined and old-world. Camilla would have looked the same if she had revealed her true self, but disguised as an ordinary woman she appeared relatively plain by comparison.

"Saint."

Around the time we had eaten our fill, unfamiliar faces began to approach. There ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠were men and women among them—though the proportion of men was conspicuously high.

"Yes, it's good to see you. Have you been well? No injuries?"

Janette received them with a merciful air, politely asking after their health and looking genuinely pained whenever someone mentioned being hurt. The operation had been a great success, but it had not been without casualties. The sacrifices spoken of here, however, were not deaths. They meant people with minor wounds, or those who would need months—or years—of rehabilitation.

Oh.

In the midst of it, Janette's body pressed gently against my arm. With her openly linked through mine for everyone to see, it was only natural.

"And the gentleman beside you—who might he be? The two of you seem quite close…?"

One of the men who had come over asked, looking at me. Whether it was my imagination or not, he seemed faintly cowed. Why?

After a brief, serious moment of thought, I understood. My face—markedly more handsome than before. The face Camilla herself had firmly declared good-looking. That was the only answer.

"He's my husband. We haven't married yet, but we will soon."

"Your husband…? Is that true?"

The three men opened their eyes wide in shock. Even a few people chatting nearby turned to look. The content was shocking enough that it had clearly reached their ears as well. Cocktail-party effect—or maybe they simply had excellent hearing.

"Are you, by any chance, an Awakened?"

The man who had asked the question steadied his startled heart and pressed on. Unlike a moment ago, his eyes now held open fluster and jealousy.

"No. I'm a civilian."

"A civilian…?"

"Yes. I don't even have any particular qualifications. I was just working as a janitor when we happened to meet."

"A janitor?"

The moment cleaning came up, the man's gaze changed completely. He tried to hide it and failed spectacularly. A nobody like this is marrying the Saint?—the perfectly natural reaction of a man.

Fair enough.

A marriage between a nobody janitor and the Saint. For anyone who had set their heart on her, it was enough to make them angry—the same way the world had lost its mind when the idol Arina's dating rumors with Kim Jae-wook exploded.

"I'm sorry, but that is rather—"

Just as Janette started to speak with a faintly angry expression, I quickly tightened my grip on her hand and stopped her mouth.

"Why…?"

Janette tilted her head, eyes full of questions. I had given her the signal not to step in, so her confusion was understandable. She knew full well they were insulting me.

I only shook my head and said nothing. I simply smiled at my ease and showed her it was all right. I was human; sometimes things scraped at me. But over a subject like this, I felt nothing at all.

"Then how exactly did you come to form such a deep relationship with the Saint?"

The man asked with jealousy burning in his eyes. If I had been alone, he probably would have dropped all formality and tried to tear me down—pressure included as a free bonus.

"I'm sorry. Anything beyond that is far too personal. I'd be embarrassed to say."

Even so, I let it slide with the flat, watered-down tone of someone who could not care less.

"Mm…"

Whether because of that or not, the heat in the man's face climbed another notch. I had managed to scrape him raw without even meaning to. It was such an obvious answer that he couldn't even find a proper rebuttal.

"Seo Ji-hyuk."

In the middle of it all, Camilla drifted over from where she had been standing some distance away, as if the red-faced man did not exist.

"Yes. Did you eat well?"

I asked the safe, ordinary question first. Camilla nodded.

"Yeah, I ate well. But I'm a little bored."

"Then why don't you play a game on your phone? Or you could step outside."

"Can't do that. I have to stay by the Saint's side."

Camilla tapped the choker around her neck with a smile.

"Besides, there's something interesting right next to me. No need to go anywhere."

"Something interesting?"

Don't tell me she means this headache of a situation?

The instant I frowned, Camilla's mouth twisted with clear intent.

"You know how to play the piano, don't you? There's one here, so play something. I think it'd be fun."

The piano?

At that unexpected answer, my eyes went wide of their own accord.