Proof of Love

The next course was served at one of the finest restaurants in the capital. The silence was so heavy that not even the clink of silverware against porcelain could be heard.

"……."

"……."

The strange tension between the two of them stretched tauter by the moment, like a bowstring being drawn. The meat scraping down his throat might as well have been sand. Even so, Cesare kept the corners of his mouth lifted to the very end.

And Leoneld was no different.

"I do hope the food is to your liking, Duke."

"How could anything not taste sweet, when shared in the company of Your Highness?"

The words hanging on their lips were honeyed, but the gazes clashing in the air between them were cold enough to carry the bite of drawn blades.

By the time they emerged from that suffocating meal, the sky had already deepened into a rich indigo. Leaving behind the city center where the festival's fervor had begun to die down, the two made their way to a quiet hill on the outskirts—the spot said to offer the best view of the fireworks.

The hilltop was a sea of flowers in full bloom. The scent of roses rode the night breeze to tickle the tip of his nose, while petals swayed gently all around them. Then, above that scenery, a sound shattered the stillness.

Shuuuk—

Bang!

Bang, bang-bang!

Colossal bursts of fire began to split the silent night sky one after another. Gold and silver flames cascaded down like waterfalls against the jet-black darkness.

"…Ah."

The spectacle was far more overwhelming than he'd anticipated, and Cesare let out an involuntary gasp. It was beautiful enough to make him forget, for a moment, both the weight of his reality and his wariness of Leoneld. The afterimages of falling flames lodged in Cesare's violet eyes like jewels, glittering there.

He was still lost in the fantastical display of light, gazing up at the sky, when he felt a gaze from beside him and turned his head.

"And the Duke…"

Leoneld was not looking at the night sky. He was looking at Cesare. Yes. At Cesare and Cesare alone.

"Do you love me?"

The crimson afterglow of burning flames flickered ominously in his eyes.

"…Is that even a question? Have I not already told you?" Cesare forced the corners of his mouth upward as he answered. "I am fond of you."

Once you committed to a bit, you saw it through to the end. His stomach was churning with disgust, but outwardly, his smile never wavered.

At that, the smile on Leoneld's lips deepened.

"Then prove it. Duke."

"…Pardon?"

"That your paltry little love is not a lie."

Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth—

"…!"

Leoneld seized the back of Cesare's neck and closed the distance between them. At the same instant, the alpha pheromones Leoneld had kept so carefully leashed erupted from his body like an explosion. A chilling scent of eucalyptus vibrated through the air, numbing him to the core.

"Ngh…!"

The color drained from Cesare's face in an instant. The alpha's presence burrowed deep into his lungs, choking off his breath and sending his heart into a wild frenzy.

He had to run.

This was the first time he'd experienced anything like it since transmigrating into this body, but his instincts were screaming a warning. If this continued…

But Leoneld gave him no opening. He swallowed Cesare's lips, rough and unrelenting.

A kiss beneath a cascade of falling fire. On the surface, it might have looked romantic.

Thud, thud—

His heart hammering. But this was not the flutter of anticipation. It was closer to hostility—sharp blades honed against each other. Hot breath invaded his mouth; his own body, in stark contrast, turned to ice.

When their lips finally parted, Cesare staggered back, gasping for air. His eyes trembled faintly, caught between physiological stimulation and shame.

"Haah, ha…"

"You don't look well. Not what I'd expect from a man who's just kissed his beloved." Leoneld traced Cesare's wet lips slowly with his thumb, murmuring low. His eyes were still cold as ice.

Only then did Cesare understand. This man had been mocking his lie all along, waiting for nothing but the chance to tear him apart.

Bang!

Boom, bang, bang!

The mad light of exploding fireworks illuminated their faces in turn. The aftermath of the kiss was vicious. The thick pheromones pressing down on the air sent heat flooding up the back of his neck, a prickling warmth spreading through his entire body. But the hotter his body burned, the greater the revulsion grew. The memory of those lips against his made his skin crawl so violently he thought he might be sick.

Gnash—

Cesare's molars ground together. Leoneld, who had been quietly watching his wretched state, began to tremble faintly at the shoulders.

"Ha, ha…"

A rough laugh leaked through the gaps between his fingers.

"Haha, hahahaha!"

Before long, a maddened laughter rang out across the silent hilltop. Leoneld clutched his belly and threw his head back, laughing like a madman for a long while. Only after a considerable time had passed did he wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes and speak, his voice glacial.

"I see. So it was deception after all."

Leoneld turned away without a trace of hesitation. Even his shadow looked cold.

Cesare's mind raced in desperation.

'Fuck. If I let him walk away now, it's over.'

If Leoneld decided here and now to treat him as a full enemy, his ass was finished. Cesare forced strength into his trembling legs and stumbled forward, snatching at Leoneld's sleeve.

"Your Highness… the Thirteenth Prince."

Leoneld's retreating footsteps halted. When he turned back, his eyes were still brimming with frost. Cesare swallowed dryly, his trembling hand still clutching the sleeve.

"Is there something more you wish to say to me, Duke?"

"…Do I look like an enemy to you?"

At Cesare's question, Leoneld turned to face him. And then he answered with a smile as bright as spring sunshine—utterly unfitting for the moment.

"You are."

It felt like his heart had plummeted to the pit of his stomach. The pounding echoed in his ears.

"What other reason could there be for feeding me such half-hearted lies, if not enmity? You are deceiving me right now, Duke."

…Damn it all.

'Think. Come up with something, anything…!'

Cesare's mind spun in frantic overdrive. He could already see the future he'd have to answer for if their hostility was cemented here and now. He had to turn this around, no matter what it took. The moment that thought crystallized, his mind went strangely, sharply clear.

'…Right.'

Cesare slowly released his grip on the sleeve. Sweeping his disheveled bangs aside, he erased every trace of the panic from moments ago and settled into a sly smile.

"…I did it because I wanted to."

"…?"

Leoneld's brow twisted strangely. The unexpected answer brought a flicker of bewilderment to those frosty eyes. Cesare didn't so much as blink as he pressed on, shameless.

"Not something as tame as this kiss. I want to have sex with you, Your Highness."

Come to think of it, there was no reason he'd been beating around the bush in the first place.

'Pretending to be in love, and all the rest of it…'

Let him retrace the trajectory of that godforsaken omegaverse fanfiction. In the original, Cesare—defeated by Leoneld—was ultimately captured by him and met the miserable fate of being thoroughly 'fucked.'

The reason Leoneld took Cesare from behind was obvious. Revenge. Pure and simple. Granted, the peculiar BL sensibility of 'You killed my father! Now I'll fuck you!' rather than 'You killed my father! Now die!' was something he found utterly incomprehensible—but such were the laws of this world. Introduction, development, twist, conclusion—all roads lead to sex. Something like that.

But.

'Looked at from the other angle… if I'm the one who wants it, wouldn't he stop?'

Revenge is only complete when the victim suffers. If the target of that revenge popped up cheering 'Yes! Amazing! Give me more!' the satisfaction would evaporate on the spot. No one keeps playing a revenge drama that's gone as flat as day-old soda.

Cesare was certain. That in this moment, donning the mask of a 'raving pervert' was the only strategy that would save his precious ass. In other words: one step back for every two steps forward!

Cesare trailed his palm slowly across Leoneld's chest.

"That word 'love'… well. Perhaps it didn't carry the embarrassingly tender meaning you were hoping for, Your Highness." His fingers came to a dangerous rest near the buttons of Leoneld's shirt. "But this body of yours? I covet it. Very, very much."

Overt desire bled through the sly curve of his smile. He could see Leoneld's face stiffening—for an entirely different reason this time.

"I'm the sort of man who can't rest until he's claimed whatever catches his eye. So call me your enemy, call me a deceiver—it makes no difference to me. Only…" Cesare pressed his lips close to Leoneld's ear and whispered. "The part about wanting to roll around in bed with you? That much is the truth."

"……."

Leoneld said nothing for a long moment. Only after a beat did he furrow his brow and push back.

"Then why did you react like that earlier? Like you hated it?"

A sharp observation. This man was no pushover, as expected. But Cesare had already committed to the bit entirely. He kept his sly smile in place and answered with perfect composure.

"It's a matter of taste."

"…What?"

"I rather like it forceful."

Fuck! Did I really have to say this with my own mouth?!

Cesare wept tears of blood on the inside, but outwardly he maintained the gaze of a man who had clearly lost his mind. If anything, he curled the corners of his eyes as if mocking Leoneld and took another step closer.

"The type who gets more aroused the rougher he's handled, you see. When you grabbed my neck and flooded me with your pheromones earlier… would you believe me if I said I was secretly begging for more?"

"……."

Leoneld's eyes wavered violently.

'Fuck. He's buying it.'

Cesare laughed bitterly to himself. Fine. He would become the pervert who got off on being manhandled by another man. It was a hundred times better than getting fucked and then crying about it in misery!