Chapter 162: Yu Mo, the Schemer
After a period of frequently going to the temple to study, Charli noticed that her brother was spending more time at home.
They often traveled between the mansion in the royal city and the estate outside the city, and her brother no longer went to the Holy Temple.
While Charli felt relieved, she continued to study every day, filled with tension and pain.
Staying in the same study as her brother, from morning until night under his watchful eyes, she would open her eyes to memorize light spells, recall materials for light magic, understand the principles of magic circles… Even in her dreams, it was the same!
The worst part was that her brother would frequently conduct random tests, checking if she had forgotten past knowledge or understood what she had recently learned.
No matter what kind of simple mistake she made, her brother’s tone remained calm.
He never spoke harshly, nor did he scold or punish her, yet Charli felt worse than if she had been hit.
Because she knew deep down that Makin and Amos would suffer for it.
Ugh—
Amidst this endless sea of painful learning, Charli suddenly found herself on holiday.
The First Prince of the Glory Empire was about to get married, and they needed to head to the palace a day early to attend the banquet.
“I’ll give you two days off, so relax,” her brother said.
When Charli heard this, she almost cried with joy.
Even more excited than her was her stepmother, Lady Cecile. She always got happy at the prospect of a banquet, and not having to be forced to study by her stepson made her doubly happy.
She never cared about what happened in the house and didn’t even know what her stepson and adopted daughter studied in the study every day. Her daily routine consisted of going out to chat and drink tea with other ladies.
“You can go with her or find some playmates your own age,” her brother said.
“Okay, brother!”
A baron was the lowest rank of nobility, so when they went to the palace, they only attended the outermost banquet.
It was said that there was also an exclusive inner banquet, held in the First Prince’s palace, where only those with the rank of earl or higher could participate.
Given Yu Mo’s current rank, he shouldn’t have received an invitation to the inner banquet, but upon arriving at the palace, a servant respectfully guided him to a different location.
“It was the First Prince who specifically instructed that Baron Cecil be invited to the banquet.”
This special treatment was due to Yu Mo’s frequent visits to the temple. By now, it was widely known among the nobility that he was highly favored by Cardinal Peruth.
For this reason, with Cardinal Peruth officiating the First Prince’s wedding, Yu Mo’s status had also risen, and he was receiving treatment beyond that of a baron.
However, in Yu Mo’s eyes, this “elevated treatment” didn’t feel like much of a benefit.
The banquet in the First Prince’s palace had far fewer attendees than the royal palace’s outer festivities, and the nobles indulging themselves were engaged in “noble games” that were more chaotic than one could imagine.
Yu Mo disliked such large gatherings. He sat alone on a balcony, ignoring the scenes of debauchery around him.
The lively banquet, with its endless pleasures and stimuli, was filled with the lingering scent of perfumes and alcohol, leaving everyone intoxicated.
In contrast, Yu Mo, quietly sitting by himself, appeared particularly conspicuous.
Especially with his rare black hair, which gave him an air of mystery and uniqueness.
“Is that the baron Cardinal Peruth is said to be so fond of?” First Prince Eno, lounging on a nearby terrace, raised an eyebrow as he looked at the man sitting alone below, calmly sipping his tea.
Eno wore only a robe, loosely draped to expose his body, exuding a lazy, post-pleasure demeanor.
His uncle, Marquis Morton, sat across from him. Hearing Eno’s tone, he knew exactly what he was thinking and warned him, “Eno, you’d better dismiss that thought!”
“Tomorrow is your wedding to Princess Frida. If you want to secure your position as Crown Prince, you need to win her over and gain her support. Don’t do anything to anger her—at least not until you become Crown Prince!”
Eno sat up, feeling bored, and poured himself a glass of wine. “I know, I’m getting married soon, but doesn’t that mean I should do something fun before the wedding?”
He preferred men over women, especially those who were tall, slender, and pale.
This Baron Cecil was exactly his type—his unique aura set him apart from all of Eno’s previous lovers and bed companions.
“Alright, alright, but even if you want to play, you can’t touch Baron Cecil—unless you want to anger Cardinal Peruth,” Marquis Morton warned again.
Eno didn’t take it seriously, but he stopped arguing with his uncle.
It was precisely because Cardinal Peruth valued the baron that Eno was even more curious to “taste” what Baron Cecil was like.
The temple held an exalted position, and even nobles could only visit on specific days. As the First Prince, Eno could only invite the cardinal on such a grand occasion as his wedding.
What kind of special charm did Baron Cecil possess to earn the favor of that cardinal?
“Eno, you know I’ve always supported you. If you become the Crown Prince, you can help your uncle as well. My northern lands are already being ravaged by the plague. When you inherit the throne, you must grant me a new territory…” Morton said.
Eno glanced briefly at the balcony below, barely paying attention to his uncle’s words. Dismissively, he replied, “What are you worried about? With the Holy Temple here, no plague can touch us. If you’re so scared, why not just stay in the royal city?”
Seeing his uncle’s angry expression, Eno finally chuckled and said, “Fine, I get it. When I’m the new king, your wishes will be granted.”
After sending Marquis Morton away, Eno noticed that Baron Cecil was still sitting alone on the balcony below, making him even more restless with desire.
Just then, one of Eno’s former lovers, who had been driven off by Morton earlier, crawled back, kissing his feet in a suggestive manner.
Eno absentmindedly waved off his former lover and called for a servant. “Go and invite Baron Cecil up here.”
He leaned by the window, watching as the dark-haired man on the balcony below stood up and followed the servant inside.
Soon after, there was a knock at the door, and the baron, barely visible in the night’s dim light, finally stood before him.
His appearance wasn’t particularly striking, but coupled with his unique aura, he had a special allure—cold and distant.
The moment Eno saw him, he barely registered his features, instead captivated by the man’s eyes. A shiver ran down his spine for reasons he couldn’t quite understand.
Yu Mo was also sizing up the First Prince before him—short brown hair, a young and healthy body.
Among the emperor’s three sons, this one was the most likely to inherit the throne.
And to what Yu Mo had planned, he would be an obstacle.
“May I call you by your name?” Eno stepped closer, his tone intimate, laced with a suggestive undertone. His gaze lingered briefly on Yu Mo’s neatly fastened collar.
“Seeing you in person, I now understand why Cardinal Peruth favors you. If it were me, I’d also want you by my side every day,” Eno murmured.
Someone like this—if made to show a different expression in bed—would surely be delightful. Such pale skin would look even better marked, dirty and chaotic.
They were standing close now, and Yu Mo subtly raised an eyebrow, quickly grasping the situation at hand.
“I haven’t yet thanked the First Prince for the invitation. I’m truly flattered. May I ask what special reason the First Prince has for calling me here?” His etiquette and composure were impeccable.
Eno chuckled softly, stepping closer still. “You don’t understand what I mean? Be my lover, and I’ll help you—how about becoming a viscount? Or even an earl?”
Unlike his past lovers, the baron showed no joy or fear in his eyes; he listened calmly, as if Eno had simply said something meaningless.
Not receiving an immediate, joyful agreement left Eno somewhat displeased. “What are you worried about, Cardinal Peruth?”
“Can a cardinal, who understands nothing of pleasure, truly bring you enjoyment? But my experience is rich, and I can make you very happy. Would you like to give it a try?”
He spoke with an enticing tone, his hand almost touching Yu Mo’s face. “Don’t worry, the cardinal won’t know; just tonight…”
Suddenly, Yu Mo grabbed his hand and pressed it against his neck.
Eno froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. “I knew you would agree.”
He leaned in, ready to embrace him.
But Yu Mo suddenly exerted force, catching Eno off guard, causing him to cry out in pain as he instinctively grasped Yu Mo’s neck.
Feeling the sharp pain in his neck, Yu Mo released Eno’s hand and stepped back. “I’m sorry, First Prince, but I fear I cannot agree.”
Eno clutched his painfully throbbing wrist, his expression darkening. “Are you playing with me?”
“I simply cannot go against the cardinal’s orders and do not wish for you to take out your anger on me,” Yu Mo replied.
Eno realized he was being threatened, and his face turned even uglier. Just then, someone pushed the door open: Marquis Morton returned, and upon seeing the two men in the room, he cast a disapproving look at the First Prince.
“Eno, I need to speak with you!” Morton signaled for Yu Mo to leave. “Baron Cecil, you should return to rest.”
Yu Mo took the opportunity to step outside, shutting the door behind him and closing off their hushed argument.
In the mirror, the skin on his neck appeared red, resembling the marks left by the sun’s rays on pale skin.
The fragile skin of the Eloren, which rarely saw the light, could easily be marked with even slight pressure, and the contrast against the plain collar was quite noticeable.
Yu Mo carefully washed his hands, glancing at the red fingerprints in the mirror a couple of times.
The rest of the night passed peacefully, with nothing happening.
*
By noon the next day, it was finally time for the wedding to officially begin.
The priests of the temple surrounded Cardinal Peruth, who wore his cardinal’s robe as they made their way to the palace. The cardinal, who had not been seen for some time, still exuded his usual warmth and kindness.
Noble ladies and young misses clustered around him, eager to engage in conversation, each one smiling joyfully.
“Cardinal, I heard you were in St. Lit City dealing with matters. Is that correct?” one lady asked.
“Yes, I just returned to the royal city yesterday,” he replied.
“That’s quite a distance! You must have had a hard time.”
“It’s nothing to speak of, just doing what I ought to do,” he said humbly.
The men, too, exchanged endless pleasantries and compliments, each eager to speak with him.
Yu Mo stood apart from the crowd, glancing at the cardinal at the center before redirecting his attention to his sister.
“Brother, what happened to your neck?” she asked.
“I didn’t rest well at the palace; my neck is just allergic,” he replied.
His innocent sister believed his words without doubt and quietly complained, “I didn’t rest well either. Plus, so many people kept asking me to dance last night. It was exhausting.”
Lady Cecil, wanting to urge her stepson to speak with Cardinal Peruth but unable to succeed, reluctantly shifted her gaze back and noticed the red mark on her stepson’s collar. She chuckled softly to herself.
“Charli, you’re still too young to understand. You’ll know in time.”
Yu Mo shot her a glance, prompting Lady Cecil to quickly suppress her odd laughter and elegantly fan herself.
With some time still left before the wedding began, Yu Mo made his way to a deserted garden, sitting in the shade as he waited.
Not long after, a pair of hands touched his neck from behind.
“What happened here?”
The cardinal, dressed grandly for the day, stood in the shadow behind him, his gaze fixed on Yu Mo’s neck, his smile seeming to carry a hint of darkness.
Yu Mo appeared surprised by the cardinal’s reaction and casually replied, “Nobles are like this.”
He met Peruth’s gaze with calmness and composure. “If it concerns you, I won’t let it happen again next time.”
His expression remained aloof, as if his soul were far away, yet the mark on his neck was glaringly out of place, disrupting the purity of his black and white attire.
The smile on Peruth’s face faded gradually, replaced by a serious demeanor.
“Who did this?”
