The Moon-Fern was the real challenge. The most vibrant cluster—the ones pulsing with that deep, medicinal indigo—grew right at the base of the marble pillar where Alaric was standing.

He could’ve grabbed it when he had the chance, but he was too nervous. He felt the Duke would find his actions more suspicious if he simply snapped the fern from its roots with a rushed movement.

He could always make an excuse that it was because he liked it and wanted to treasure it, but what would he say later when the Duke asked to see it?

He gulped.

The Duke hadn’t moved; he was staring up at the moon, his tanned profile etched in his silver robe, looking like a man haunted by a ghost he couldn’t quite name.

Julian walked back toward him, his steps light on the grassy path. He needed to get close and then low enough to swipe the moon fern.

"The light here..." Julian started, his voice barely a whisper as he reached the pillar. He knelt, pretending to inspect the soil at the Duke’s feet. "It’s different from the North. It’s almost... alive."

He reached out, his fingers inching toward the thickest stem of the fern. He just needed one clean snap.

"Everything is different here," Alaric said. His voice was no longer a rumble; it was a low rasp that seemed to vibrate in the air between them.

Julian quickly closed his hand around the stem of the moon fern.

Snap.

The sound was tiny, masked by the rustle of the wind in the jasmine vines, but the swift movement caused Julian to lose his balance on the slick grass. He gasped, his body tilting backward, the evidence of his theft clutched tightly in his fist.

He expected to hit the hard floor, but he didn’t.

Large, calloused hands caught him mid-air. One arm caught Julian’s arm, the same hand that had the evidence of his theft, and the other wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against a chest that felt like heated iron.

Julian’s breath hitched, his head snapping up to look at the man holding him.

The Duke wasn’t letting go. He held Julian in a way that was undeniably intimate—his grip on his arm was possessive, and his fingers spread across Julian’s slim waist, his heart thumping because he had moved... Before he even had the chance to think.

Suddenly, the system interface flickered into Julian’s field of vision, unbidden and frantic.

> [NOTIFICATION: Target ’Duke Alaric’ — Emotional Spike Detected]

> Affection Level: 37% ... 39% ... 42% ...

> [CRITICAL UPDATE: 45%]

> Status: [Sensory overload]

Julian’s eyes widened, the blue glow of the garden reflecting in his shimmering irises.

He stared at the purple translucent numbers in disbelief.

’45? In an instant?’ His mind whirled, trying to apply logic to the illogical. Was it a glitch or...? ’Did he... did he really like that I came to see the plants? Is he an enthusiast? Does he find my interest in botany this moving?’

Julian wondered, his innocence regarding the Duke’s feelings acting as a desperate shield.

’Maybe the North is so barren that seeing a living Moon-Fern again affects the soul of its ruler this deeply?’

Julian could find no other reason why the Duke’s affection level would spike like that besides liking the garden and the flowers.

His mind was still doing the numbers when he felt it—the heat radiating from the Duke’s skin, the way Alaric’s blue eyes weren’t looking at the garden, but were fixed on Julian’s lips with a raw, terrifying hunger that even Julian couldn’t ignore.

What was this now?

He was suddenly reminded of the night the Duke mistook him for his late wife during his drunken stupor. But right now the Duke was sober. Very sober.

The Duke’s thumb traced a slow, unconscious circle against Julian’s waist, through the thin fabric of his white shirt.

For the first time, the ’Calm Mind’ buff felt like it was failing. Julian couldn’t just dismiss any of this as ’it just happened’ or ’nothing happened’.

No man holds his son’s tutor like this because of a shared love for ferns.

It made Julian uncomfortable, thinking the Duke might actually be... He pursed his lips and then looked away.

"Your... Your Grace," Julian stammered, his fingers still clenched around the stolen ingredient. "I... I can stand now."

But Alaric didn’t move. He seemed to be fighting a war behind his eyes—one between the memory of the woman he had loved for a decade and the breathing, pulsing heat of the man in his arms.

"Just... a moment," the Duke whispered, his forehead leaning down until it almost touched Julian’s, but he slid past and rested his head on his shoulder, causing Julian’s breath to hitch alarmingly. "The air... It’s too thin in the South. I need to find my balance."

He was speaking like he wasn’t raised in the South.

Did the Northern cold really change his blood? Julian wondered, frozen in place. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Was it that bad that he couldn’t find his balance? A War God like him?

Julian didn’t know what was going on, but this development made him very uncomfortable, especially when he saw the hovering 45%.

He recalled how Lucius had grown quite clingy to him after his affection level became high. He even got tagged as the child’s guardian once it crossed fifty.

But Lucius was a child, and there was no harm done. But then, if the Duke acts the same way, it’s not just an innocent clingy attitude anymore.

It becomes dangerous... It becomes threatening.

The Duke, feeling he can’t do without him, would only make Julian’s life feel more complicated than it already was.

Julian gulped, looking at the Duke’s wild hair as it danced in the wind.

Things like this could keep happening, the higher the affection level got. And the Duke may not be able to understand his own feelings properly.

’Is... Is this okay?’ Julian wondered, his heart thumping. ’If his affection level increases more than this... Will I be okay?’

He was worried and dismayed.

How to fix this before things went deeper into the wrong direction?

It already seemed like... The Duke was getting infatuated with him.