Seo-jun found it hard to refuse the attention, so in the end, he accepted it—though a bitter aftertaste still lingered in his chest.
Chewie's betrayal hadn't fully faded from his mind. The woman he had trusted turned out to be Princess Victoria Aurelion's spy. Just thinking about it was enough to make his jaw tighten.
After a long series of events, the banquet finally came to an end. The local nobles returned to their respective estates, while nobles and royal guests from neighboring kingdoms chose to stay a few more days before beginning their long journeys home.
In the days that followed, Seo-jun was almost never home. He was busy fulfilling the orders Rowan had organized, while also expanding the distribution of affordable herbal bar soap for the lower classes.
The market response was good—far better than he had expected.
And yet, despite everything running smoothly, a sense of unease gnawed at him.
The Archbishop's words continued to echo in his mind. Seo-jun didn't know what the man was planning, but one thing was certain—nothing good ever came from the mouth of a fanatic.
Amid his hectic schedule, Edmund requested that all his children set aside time for a family dinner.
Especially since their youngest son was still home—a rare occurrence.
That night became their first family dinner in a long while.
All of his sons were present. Margaret couldn't stop the tears from falling at the sight.
But the happiness didn't last.
Alaric—who had secluded himself in the monastery for so long—returned with a level of fanaticism that was even more unsettling than before.
When perfectly cooked steak was served, Alaric instead requested chicken soup, whole wheat bread, and a simple salad.
Edmund could only shake his head.
Margaret grew visibly anxious as she looked at her eldest son's gaunt frame—he looked almost like a man living on the streets.
"My dear… are you all right?" she asked softly.
"Are you sick?"
Alaric shook his head while tearing off a piece of bread.
"No, Mother. The flesh of four-legged beasts is a symbol of luxury. It stirs worldly desire and weakens the soul."
Rowan listened while jotting something down—whatever it was.
Lucien bit back his laughter, because Adrian's expression at that moment perfectly mirrored Edmund's look of utter disgust.
Margaret began to bristle, her frustration even turning inward.
Alaric, however, simply prayed for her calmly, asking that his mother be protected from the "corrupting temptations of the world."
Edmund finally spoke up, placing a hand on his wife's arm to calm her.
"That's enough. At least he's still willing to eat with us tonight."
After dinner, everyone returned to their own affairs.
Seo-jun was overwhelmed by the stack of letters from noble daughters and royal families of neighboring kingdoms. He made an effort to read them one by one, out of courtesy.
But close to midnight, his attention was drawn to the glow of a lantern in the front garden.
At first, he ignored it—until he noticed a familiar silhouette.
Alaric.
A sense of unease crept in.
Seo-jun headed down to the garden.
The night air bit into his skin, while Alaric wore nothing but a thin monastery robe.
It was a pitiful sight—especially considering he came from the wealthiest merchant family in the kingdom.
Alaric sat on a garden bench, eyes closed, hands clenched before his chest, lips continuously murmuring scripture.
Seo-jun sat down beside him.
Alaric was so deeply focused that he didn't notice another presence—until he opened his eyes and jolted in shock.
"Adrian?!"
"Hah—my heart almost stopped! What are you doing here?!"
Seo-jun looked at him flatly.
"That's my line."
"What are you doing praying out here at midnight, in this freezing weather, dressed in something that looks like rags?"
Alaric let out a long breath as he hugged his holy book tightly to his chest.
"I'm praying to God," he said softly, "for all the blessings He has granted us. The beauty of this night that soothes the soul, the devoted clergy… and of course, the noble Archbishop."
Seo-jun merely gave a small nod, his gaze drifting up to the star-filled sky.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Alaric, who remained deep in prayer—too deep in prayer, even when Seo-jun accidentally let one slip thanks to a stomach chill.
The smell was awful. Rotten eggs, no exaggeration.
Alaric didn't react. Not even a twitch.
Seo-jun had to bite his lip to keep from laughing, barely maintaining the sanctity of the absurd moment.
Nearly an hour passed before Alaric finally closed his book.
Seo-jun, who had spent most of that time thinking about business, turned his head—and found Alaric smiling widely, his cheekbones sharply pronounced.
"So," Seo-jun asked flatly, "what do you usually do there?"
Alaric leaned back against the cold garden bench, staring up at the moon.
"At the monastery? I pray. Interact with fellow worshippers. Serve God… and other things."
The answer felt deliberately cut short.
"But it's strange," Alaric continued, eyes suddenly bright,
"that you'd take an interest in my life."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Don't tell me you're thinking about joining the monastery?"
Seo-jun chuckled.
"Never. I love money, and I have zero intention of living in shabby robes like yours."
His gaze swept over Alaric from head to toe.
"But honestly—don't you realize how miserable you look compared to the Archbishop?"
Alaric smiled, utterly proud.
"The noble Archbishop deserves such attire. Those favored by God should naturally possess the finest things."
Seo-jun laughed softly and nodded.
"Yup. Completely hopeless."
Internally, he scoffed.
No wonder he could donate family assets without blinking. His brain's been thoroughly washed.
Seo-jun's gaze sharpened as it settled on Alaric.
Strangely enough, he didn't feel disgusted.
He felt intrigued.
The way the Archbishop controlled people like Alaric…
It was effective. Extremely effective.
If I learned that technique… investors would be far more generous.
Seo-jun let out a quiet chuckle to himself.
Splash.
Ice-cold water hit his face.
"AH—COLD!"
"Are you insane?!" Seo-jun snapped.
Alaric exhaled in relief.
"You were spacing out like a madman. I thought you were possessed."
After that, they parted ways and returned to their respective rooms.
Inside his room, Seo-jun opened his safe.
He placed several gold coins and large diamonds inside—top-tier quality, unmistakably not cheap.
His eyes were cold, calculating.
"No matter what it takes," he murmured,
"I need to get into that monastery."
"And see for myself…"
"…how they brainwash people from the inside."