The notorious rascal Ashton Mills was singing and reveling in the tavern with everyone as one.
Because he had volunteered to pay for everyone’s drinks, the people, overwhelmed with joy, improvised a song praising Ash.
They simply replaced the lyrics of a famous hero’s ballad with “Wealthy and Generous Ash,” but that was enough for Ash to sing along and enjoy himself.
As they locked arms and sang the climax of the song at the top of their lungs, suddenly—
“Sir Ash! Lord Ash Noren!”
When a servant called out urgently, the drunk who had his arm around Ash said,
“Young master, they’re calling you?”
“What is it? What’s going on? I told you not to bother me when I’m having fun.”
Ash grumbled.
It wasn’t the first time he mingled with commoners like this—why the fuss now?
But the servant ignored his master’s complaints and hurriedly pulled Ash away.
“It’s important. Please, hurry, sir!”
“Ugh, what is it now?”
Reluctantly, Ash got up and followed the servant.
A sudden unease gripped him.
He hadn’t been home in a while…
Was his father that angry?
The servant exited the tavern, quickly checked the back alley to make sure no one was around, and then whispered,
“His Grace the Duke has passed away!”
“What? My father?”
Ash sobered up instantly.
His heart dropped.
“While you’ve been gone these past few days, the funeral has already begun at the mansion!”
Even in his shock, Ash was confused.
“How dare they hold a funeral without me? I’m the chief mourner! And why am I only hearing about this now?”
“Well… Master Owen gave strict orders not to inform you. He’s the one overseeing the funeral.”
“What? What did you say?”
Ash couldn’t believe it.
Owen?
That bastard gave such an order?
And the family just went along with it?
“I came out secretly to tell you. If I’m caught, I could lose my head. Please, don’t tell Master Owen I told you.”
The servant looked around nervously as he whispered.
“That bastard…!”
Ash’s heart burned with fury and betrayal.
He immediately stood up and shouted to the tavern owner,
“Bring the carriage! I’m going to the castle!”
***
The funeral was being held in the temple within the castle.
Dressed in commoner-like black attire, the mourners looked shocked to see Ash burst in wearing everyday clothes.
His face flushed red with anger, Ash shoved through the crowd and entered the temple.
On either side, people bowed their heads in mourning, and at the front was the casket—no doubt holding his father.
Seeing it, tears welled up in Ash’s eyes.
“Father… Even when Mother was deathly ill, you never once visited her, too busy playing with your lovers. But you… you did care for me in your own way.”
Yet even though he always said Ash was precious, he never passed the family name to him.
That title should have been Ash’s by right.
Thinking of that, the tears receded.
Truthfully, his father hadn’t exactly been a good parent, so it was hard to grieve him purely.
The moment Ash stepped inside, the quiet murmur of the funeral turned into a stir.
Since the ceremony was meant to be a simple one with only close associates, the temple wasn’t overflowing.
Still, even just the retainers and close relatives made for a sizable crowd.
Even among that crowd, Ash quickly found the person he was looking for.
A tall Alpha, standing prominently in the front row of the temple, stood out among all the mourners.
The man’s skin was so pale and smooth that he looked like a statue carved from marble.
His eyelids were deeply sunken, casting shadows under his brows.
His black irises were dark and held a cold light.
Ash had always thought that those eyes looked at people with contempt.
From head to toe, the man was dressed so impeccably it felt like not even a needle could slip through.
He had prevented Ash from being informed of his father’s death.
If it weren’t for a servant, Ash might not have been able to attend the funeral at all.
“Bastard.”
No matter how much he hated Ash, how could he do something like that?
This wasn’t just Ash’s problem—it was a disgrace to the father who had treated him well.
That ungrateful bastard.
“Hey! You illegitimate son of a bitch!”
Ash stormed up to him and grabbed him by the collar.
And was shocked that he actually succeeded.
The man had a slight case of mysophobia—he didn’t allow others to touch him.
Ash had realized this around puberty, after grabbing him from behind once, only to be thrown to the ground.
He still remembered the surprised look on the man’s face.
Though Ash never knew why the man himself looked so surprised after throwing him…
At the time, Ash had thought, “So this guy has a flaw too. Gotcha.” and ran to his father.
But his father had dismissed it, saying that kind of flaw wasn’t a big deal.
“How does a germaphobe even sleep with an omega and make a kid?”
Don’t you need physical contact—skin to skin—to have sex?
Even now, Ash couldn’t understand how that wasn’t considered a serious issue.
Because of that comment, all Ash got from his father was a lecture about how it’s inappropriate for an omega to speak so crudely about “baby-making.”
The man raised one eyebrow, as if to say, Go on, keep talking, so Ash, after hesitating for a moment, continued.
“You! Who do you think you are, taking my place? This is my place! I’m the chief mourner, he was my father!”
You didn’t even tell me about Father’s death?
You immoral freak—
Ash was about to say that when he flinched at the change in the man’s expression.
“So that’s what you came to say.”
Owen’s voice was low and gentle.
His tone was always so refined that, just from his voice alone, you’d never guess he could get angry.
Sometimes Ash didn’t even realize when Owen was cursing.
But Ash could always tell when Owen was truly angry—because he rarely ever was.
Like their father, he didn’t show emotion easily.
Yet, when it came to Ash, he never hid his contempt and disgust.
Owen brushed Ash’s hand away as if swatting off a bug.
Ash realized only belatedly that he should have been angry at such a humiliating gesture.
But by then, fear had already taken hold.
Ever since a certain incident, Ash had come to fear Owen’s anger.
“You… you…”
“Drag this drunkard out.”
Owen dusted off his clothes and straightened the creases.
Then he signaled the soldiers with a jerk of his chin.
“Yes, sir! …Apologies, young master. Let’s go.”
“Where do you think you’re touching? Hey! Can’t you see who I am? Do you even know what this place is—!”
“Then be quiet if you know what kind of place this is.”
Ash stopped struggling.
It was because Owen seemed genuinely angry for once.
Ash quickly reviewed his behavior.
‘Why is this guy angry?’
Ash had only done what he always did.
It wasn’t the first time he called him a bastard, and grabbing each other’s collars was routine.
Even yelling at each other was practically their way of having friendly conversation.
So why now…
‘Could it be because I humiliated him in front of people?’
Now that their father had passed, the family belonged to Owen.
He was the official heir, the young duke.
Was Owen angry because Ash, acting like the family was still his, insulted the new head of the house in front of others?
Ash’s eyes welled up.
Ah!
The moment our father died, this bastard turned on me!
Ash had seen it coming.
Even though their father didn’t notice the obvious, he’d always cherished this wildcat of a son, calling him ‘your brother’ again and again.
The soldiers dragged the miserable Ash back to his room in the castle and threw him inside.
The family’s soldiers had always sided with Owen.
To them, the weak Omega was someone to be protected, not someone fit to lead them.
They had supported Owen as the successor ever since he was adopted.
Owen, who had followed all the way there, blocked the door on his way out.
He was broad-shouldered and imposing, and when he stood in the doorway, Ash felt trapped.
“Ashton Mills.”
“What!”
Ash shouted even while trembling.
He refused to be defeated by someone like him.
Though yelling back might come with consequences, he couldn’t back down.
Owen responded in his usual cold, unreadable expression.
“You brought this on yourself. Don’t take it out on others. If you’d just behaved, you could’ve attended the funeral.”
“What did I even do? I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who—!”
“If you hadn’t been wandering around outside the castle with that low-class lover of yours or whatever he is, you would’ve heard the news. So who’s to blame for that?”
The moment Owen said “lover,” his cold face twisted.
His extreme obsession with cleanliness made it unbearable for him to even imagine someone being physically involved with another.
He was always like that.
Ash was dumbfounded.
“My lover’s house isn’t outside the border! It’s not some maze! It’s right nearby! Are you saying the news couldn’t get there?”
“Don’t change the subject. The fact is, you weren’t in the castle when you should’ve been. And you caused a scene at a solemn event. How much more are you going to tarnish the duke’s reputation?”
“And who’s the one tarnishing it?! Is this how you handle a duke’s funeral? The entire town should’ve been in mourning clothes! Why are you hiding it behind closed doors like it’s something shameful? …You just didn’t want to tell me. You were afraid I’d come back and take over the funeral preparations. Afraid you’d lose your place. Am I wrong?!”
“The simplified funeral was by the Duke’s own wishes.”
Owen didn’t even blink.
“Why not just say our father was worried about saving money?”
Ash scoffed.
Their father was not that kind of man.
If anything, he would’ve wanted the grandest funeral in the world.
“It was also my decision as the next Duke.”
Owen admitted plainly.
“You… So you’re finally showing your true colors…!”
Ash ground his teeth, and Owen silently looked at him.
“Don’t you get it?”
“…?”
“Of course not. You’ve always been dumb.”
Owen spoke like he had nothing left to expect from him.
Then he gave a nod to the soldiers, who withdrew further down the hall.
The movement, more than the insults, made Ash instinctively retreat in fear.
“What? What are you trying to do…?”
Owen knelt on one knee and approached Ash—so close that Ash could feel his breath.
His shadow swallowed Ash, and his eyes slowly traced over Ash’s face.
How long had it been since they’d been this close?
Ash stopped breathing.
After examining him silently, Owen finally said in a cold voice:
“Ashton Mills. Shut up and listen. His Grace the Duke has passed away.”
I know.
Ash’s heart pounded.
“I’m the head of this house now.”
“Says who—”
“I told you to shut up.”
Ash flinched at the harsh words coming from Owen’s usually refined mouth.
“And you will stay quietly here until the wedding.”
Ash wanted to stay quiet, but he wasn’t the type to hold back his curiosity.
He asked hesitantly:
“Wedding? What wedding?”
Owen replied as if he’d just heard the dumbest question in the world:
“Yours and mine.”