Morning sunlight streamed through the window. Mary’s lashes fluttered slightly. Her eyes cracked open for a moment before squeezing shut again as she hastily raised a hand to block the light… A sudden, inexplicable headache struck as she tried to sit up.

*Ugh… Yesterday… I think I drank.* Her head throbbed… but her heart ached more. *Sigh…* Wait—something was weighing down her blanket. Her gaze drifted downward. Duke Kein lay asleep beside her bed, his hair haloed in golden sunlight. If this sight of the slumbering Duke could be sold, every noblewoman in the capital would fight tooth and nail for a glimpse.

“Hmm? …Ah… Morning already. Mary… are you awake?”

Duke Kein sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes before smiling warmly at her.

“Yesterday?”

“You were drunk. I had a maid attend to you, but… she’d worked all day. It didn’t feel right to keep her up all night too. So I sent her to rest. How are you feeling? Headache?”

He rose, poured water from a pitcher on the table, and gently placed the cup before her.

“Drink this. And… take this.” He pulled a deep purple fruit from his pocket. “A hangover remedy. You passed out before I could give it to you last night. It eases headaches too.”

Staring at Kein’s smiling face, Mary suddenly saw it—the Duke’s gentleness, beauty, sincerity, and thoughtfulness. *Didn’t I call him ‘Brother’ yesterday?*

“Thank you… Brother Kein.”

“No need to thank me. Taking care of my little sister is what brothers do.” He paused. “Shall I send a maid to help you wash up? Or will you manage alone? …After you’re ready, let’s have breakfast. And… about Count Dracula—please control your emotions. His past is private. Don’t let your feelings show too openly. How about this? I’ll have breakfast brought to your room.”

“It’s fine… Brother. I’m alright now…”

“Oh?”

“Maybe it was just… a beautiful dream. One too distant to reach. Like reading an adventure novel, then realizing real adventures are nothing like the stories. After the disappointment… even when you wake up, your heart still twists with pain…”

Kein moved closer, sitting on the bed’s edge. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Mary looked up into his encouraging eyes—and her emotions surged uncontrollably.

“May I… borrow your shoulder?”

“…Of course.”

He shifted nearer, letting her bury her face against his shoulder. Mimicking his mother’s soothing rhythm, he gently patted her back.

“Thank you… Your chest is so warm. Your shoulder so strong. Thank you… I feel better now. Thank you…”

*(…This is the first time I’ve been this close to a woman.)*

———

The carriage rolled along a forest path, emerging where dappled shadows met a lake’s sapphire surface. Ahead stood a cluster of buildings—docks. The Imperial Navy’s Daze Lake Base. Soldiers halted the carriage at the gate. Kein revealed his face through the window.

“It’s the Admiral! Welcome, Admiral Kein! Open the gates! Now! It’s Admiral Kein’s carriage!”

“Mm.”

Kein gave a slight nod, closed the window, and the carriage proceeded down the base’s streets, stopping on an open plaza before the docks. Kein, Dracula Joe Shuya, and Greenland stepped out.

“This is the Imperial Navy’s training ground—Daze Lake. Also our largest shipyard.”

“Truly impressive.”

“Ha! Of course! The Empire’s pride… Warships depart from here to win glory on distant seas. Most of our navy trained here too…”

“…What’s that?”

Dracula pointed toward distant waters where monstrous waves churned. Training vessels tossed violently. Even from afar, he could see sailors clinging to rails under their drillmaster’s commands.

“We built reservoirs upstream. Releasing the floodwaters simulates ocean swells. Soldiers train safely here before facing real seas. My father devised this—too many died in open-water drills before. His method saved countless lives.”

“I see…”

Kein led Dracula and Greenland deeper into the shipyard. Dracula’s eyes lit up at the skeletal frames of half-built ships, peppering Kein with questions. Without magic, shipbuilding here was primitive—wooden sailing vessels. But enchanted components transformed them into near-steam-powered marvels.

“This… this paddlewheel lets ships move without wind. Said to be a divine invention. Utterly fascinating… Its mechanics are complex. It also requires alchemically refined oil—raw crude won’t work.”

*Just like a massive engine. Those ‘gods’ must have been transmigrators,* Dracula mused, studying the boiler-like mechanism.

A soldier approached, handing Kein a letter.

———

*To His Grace Duke Kein,*

*Tonight, I host a private ball at my residence. Rest assured, only gentlemen and ladies of the capital’s elite—my personal friends—will attend. I pledge my honor: no impropriety will occur. If convenient, please introduce Count Dracula Joe Shuya. His exploits intrigue me deeply… Your presence is earnestly requested.*

*—Sabo Gar Vanrischer (Second Prince)*

———

“What do you think, Dracula?” Kein passed him the letter.

“A chance to enter noble circles. And such an invitation… I accept.”

Kein nodded, penned a reply, and handed it to the soldier for delivery.

———

Night fell. Commoners slept early, saving strength for tomorrow’s toil. Only drunkards or night workers lingered in taverns past midnight. Night belonged to nobles.

In the western aristocratic quarter, carriages crowded outside Prince Sabo’s mansion. Nobles streamed in for the ball.

“His Grace Duke Kein Franlen Hailtesilaim welcomes you. And this must be Count Dracula Joe Shuya. His Highness awaits you both. This way…”

An elderly steward guided them through the garden to a secluded pavilion—now partitioned by screens into a private chamber large enough for a dozen guests.

“Duke Kein! I never expected you’d truly come.” Prince Sabo rose, greeting Kein warmly. “And this distinguished gentleman must be Count Dracula! Come, sit beside me. Tonight’s guests are all my closest friends… No need for formality.”

Sabo personally ushered them to seats beside him, signaling their importance. The banquet featured individual tables arranged in three tiers: outer tables held minor nobles served by attendants; middle tables hosted the Prince’s trusted allies, who mingled freely; the inner chamber reserved for Sabo’s inner circle. His closest advisors occasionally summoned key guests from the middle tier.

The Prince’s confidants nodded politely at Kein—the man Sabo desperately sought to recruit. But Dracula drew cold stares. *Who is this newcomer to sit so near His Highness? Only Kein’s shadow?* Resentment simmered. They knew Dracula only as the brute who’d whipped nobles harassing Kein—a crude, uncultured act. Worse, jealousy gnawed at them. Unlike Kein’s androgynous grace, Dracula’s rugged masculinity threatened their pride.

As outer guests departed, only the inner chamber’s dozen remained. A balding noble with a fringe of hair stood.

“Your Highness, a proposal.”

“Oh? Something entertaining? Drinking and dining grows dull. Speak freely—we’re all friends here.” Sabo’s plain face radiated practiced charm. Royal upbringing had honed his social grace.

“I’ve heard of a… liberated nation across the sea. Their nobles play a thrilling game. Merely a suggestion—if it offends, we’ll forget it.”

“Speak! No hard feelings among friends, right?”

“Exactly, Lord Kaka. Proceed.”

Kaka clapped. A breathtaking dancer entered, draped in gossamer-thin veils. Her face was masked; beneath the translucent fabric and dangling ornaments, teasing glimpses hinted at bare skin. Her narrow, kohl-rimmed eyes held hypnotic allure…

She bowed to the wide-eyed Prince, then began to sway. More dancers flowed in like stars orbiting a moon, playing drums, bells, and lutes. Hips rolled, legs parted, spines arched—every movement radiated deliberate temptation.

The chamber fell silent, breathless. Prince Sabo’s eyes bulged. Only Kein and Dracula remained unmoved.

Keane blushed slightly, feeling a bit embarrassed. He'd long heard that noble private gatherings always had strange things. This time, he truly saw something new. Count Dracula watched the dancer with a stony face as she swayed her body. She seemed to challenge him, dancing right up to him. Casually, she grabbed the wine jug on the table and poured him a cup to the melody.

"Honored guest," she purred, "did I dance poorly? Why so cold?"

"Your dance is peerless. To you..." Count Dracula remained unmoved, raising his cup in a distant toast before drinking. It felt like a charm spell—but far weaker than Purames and those Sirens.

"Hmph~~" The dancer pouted, swaying out of his sight. She finished the performance and retreated with the others. Count Dracula stood and clapped. As his applause echoed, the crowd snapped out of their daze and joined in.

"Well!" Sabo seized the moment to flatter. "Count Dracula, a true paragon of nobility—so composed before such beauty. This prince toasts you!" He edged closer to the count.

Kaka stepped forward. "Your Highness, what do you think of this beauty?"

"Stunning! Magnificent! A real temptress!" Kaka grinned smugly. "A gift I've not yet enjoyed due to duties. Today, she's the prize for a game."

"Ah, yes—what game?" someone asked.

"Each drinks wine laced with 'Aphrodite's Tears'—an aphrodisiac. A surprise follows... If you can't endure, act wisely. Your Highness, spare us some rooms for the night?"

"Ahahaha! I see... thrilling! Of course!" The prince boomed. "Those who falter, hurry! Attendants—prepare sixteen rooms! Keys here—now!"

Servants rushed off. Soon, keys piled on the prince's table. Pink, fragrant wine filled delicate cups before everyone.

"Aphrodite's Tears? Your Highness... may I skip this?" Duke Kein grimaced at the wine, instantly grasping the game's nature.

"What is it?" Count Dracula asked, puzzled.

"Count, it's a fierce aphrodisiac. Drink it, lose control—do things you'd never normally do..."

"An aphrodisiac~ Duke Kein, that won't do! Everyone joins but you?" The second prince egged him on. Others chimed in.

Duke Kein agonized. *If I disgrace myself, Mother will be heartbroken. How could I...?*

"Let me drink two portions for Keane," Count Dracula offered. "If I win, it counts for both. Fair?"

"Huh?"

"What?!"

All froze—then smirked. *One dose makes men lustful; two will humiliate him publicly! What a fool.* They silently agreed, thumbs up.

"Count... this drug is potent. Are you sure? Duke Kein skipping is fine—I'm magnanimous."

"No. As Keane's friend, I must help. And I need him sober—if I falter, he can guide me home. I'm not local... might get lost when senseless."

The prince's eyes widened. He gave a thumbs-up. "Loyal! Agreed. Rooms aplenty if needed."

Two cups of drugged wine sat before Count Dracula.

"Dracula... don't force it. This is strong..."

"My mind's made up."

"Alright... thank you..."

All drank. Count Dracula downed both cups. The wine slid into the throat of his devouring monster—Pipe sneered inwardly. *Poison? Aphrodisiacs? It eats all. He consumed nothing.*

A minute passed. Eyes reddened slowly. Thinly clad dancers entered, twirling gracefully. Heavy breaths filled the room—the drug's effects surged. Uncontrollable fantasies bloomed, shaped by hidden desires.

"Ahhh~~!! I can't take it!!!" A noble roared, snatched a giggling dancer and a key, and bolted out.

One followed another. Two more surrendered, unbuttoning shirts as they fled with dancers. Soon, only eight remained: the prince, blushing Duke Kein (who hadn't drunk), stony Count Dracula, four of the prince's officials, and a socialite.

Dancers left the center, swaying beside each guest, rubbing against them. The escalated temptation drove men mad.

"Endure... endure... endure your sister!! I can't!!!" Two nobles rushed out. The socialite followed, clutching his dancer.

Five left—but only Count Dracula, who drank double, seemed unaffected. Others strained.

*Count Dracula, a true man... I can't hold on. But as host, future crown prince, royalty—I can't lose face! Never!* The prince's neck flushed crimson. Others fared no better.

Dancers moaned seductively, as if being pleasured.

"No!!!! Aaaaah! I can't!!" Another noble fled. Then another. Only the prince and Count Dracula remained.

The prince neared breaking point. His dancer writhed on the table before him, breathing heavily. He swung his fist—thud!—slamming the floor. Pain cleared his head. He glared at Count Dracula. *Why so calm? Are you that strong? I can't lose to a foreigner!*

The dancer before Count Dracula panted in vain. *Like a one-woman show.* Frustrated, she ripped open her top, shaking her full curves at him.

Count Dracula sipped wine, face unflushed. "Thirsty? You're sweating. You'll catch cold like that."

The dancer nearly fainted. *Am I that unattractive?!*

The prince's dancer did the same. Overwhelmed, he roared, grabbed her, and charged out.

"Then... I win." Count Dracula's expression never changed. Keane sat beside him, blushing. *He won. No one matches his willpower... How will the prince take this? Kaka—that bastard and his rotten idea!*