The news of the grand banquet pleased Madam Han so greatly that she immediately summoned Lady Lia, the daughter of Minister Shau. Madam Han favored her deeply and had long envisioned her as Azron's future wife, a plan she had carefully nurtured over the years.
Madam Han intended to seize the moment of the banquet, to finally place Lady Lia directly before Azron and ensure she captured his interest. And Lady Lia, who had long admired Lord Azron, needed no persuasion—she was willing to do whatever it would take to have him.
The day of the banquet arrived, and guests filled the central courtyard of Mort Mansion, their presence turning the once-still space into a sea of color, laughter, and quiet ambition. All the noble single women and men seeking marriage were present, each carrying their own hopes beneath carefully composed smiles and watchful eyes.
The four generals stood at the sides, their presence commanding even in stillness as they observed the ongoing festivity with sharp, trained awareness. Azron had made them attend since all of them were bachelors as well. But among the four, only Jidu seemed eager, his posture less rigid, his eyes wandering with interest as if he had already begun choosing.
The four generals' reputations were known throughout the land, their names spoken with admiration and fear alike, and several women had already shown interest, whispering among themselves as they stole glances. But because they spent most of their lives traveling and fighting, marriage had always remained a distant thought rather than a priority.
General Jidu's cheeks flushed as he noticed several women glancing toward them, their eyes lingering longer than politeness allowed, their smiles subtle but inviting.
"They are not looking at you," General Dan said bluntly, his tone dry and unbothered, breaking Jidu's confidence without hesitation.
The women were not.
Their attention had already shifted—to the man who had just entered the courtyard, drawing every gaze without effort.
Lord Azron.
All eyes turned toward him as he arrived to join the banquet, his presence alone commanding silence for a brief moment before the murmurs returned in hushed admiration. Every woman in Mort City admired him, and every unmarried one secretly dreamed of becoming his wife.
The guests, along with the four generals, immediately bowed in respect as he took his seat at the center of the courtyard, his expression calm yet distant, untouched by the admiration surrounding him.
"Why do you think Lord Azron held this banquet?" General Dan murmured, his voice low, edged with curiosity as his eyes followed Azron. "He used to despise gatherings like this."
"Maybe it was for us," General Jidu answered with a grin, already smiling back at the watching women, clearly enjoying the attention. "So we can finally marry before going to the North again."
"Or maybe," General Dan added, his tone more thoughtful as he crossed his arms, "his Lordship is finally considering marriage himself. It would not be unreasonable."
Lady Lia, seated not far from the generals, heard their conversation clearly, every word sharpening her resolve. A quiet determination settled within her as she rose gracefully from her seat and approached Azron, her steps slow, deliberate, and practiced.
"Lord Azron, I am glad to see you. It has been a long time since we last saw each other," Lady Lia said, her voice soft and carefully measured, each word carrying intent as her eyes lingered on his face.
Azron glanced at her. They had known each other since their younger years, as his mother often brought her to the mansion whenever he returned from his travels, always hoping familiarity would grow into something more.
Lady Lia had grown into a beautiful and intelligent woman, admired by many noblemen who had already shown interest, some even persistently. But never Azron. Not once had he shown even the slightest desire to know her beyond courtesy.
"This is such a fine gathering," Lady Lia continued, her smile gentle yet calculated as she studied his expression, searching for even the smallest sign of interest or change.
"I am glad Lady Lia enjoys it," Azron replied shortly, his tone polite yet distant as he lifted his wine and drank, offering nothing more than formality.
Lady Lia smiled still and sat beside him, determined, refusing to be dismissed so easily despite his indifference.
Azron's gaze moved across the courtyard, slowly observing the women one by one, assessing without emotion as if it were a duty rather than interest. Whenever his eyes landed on them, they responded with soft smiles and quiet giggles, their expressions filled with anticipation and hope. It was a familiar reaction—one he had seen countless times before, one that no longer stirred anything within him.
Azron continued to drink his wine, the taste dull against his tongue. He had finished observing all of them, yet not a single one stirred anything within him. The laughter and chatter began to feel distant, almost suffocating, pressing against his patience. A quiet irritation settled in his chest as he stood, deciding to leave in search of silence. The four generals bowed as he passed, sensing his mood.
He walked slowly toward the Grand Quarters, his steps unhurried yet deliberate, his mind restless beneath his composed exterior.
Behind him, Lady Lia followed quietly, careful and calculated—but Azron was already aware of her presence, her footsteps too intentional to go unnoticed. He allowed it. He had long known of the schemes between his mother and Lady Lia, the repeated attempts to make him interested in her.
Usually, Azron ignored them, dismissing Lady Lia and every attempt she made. But today was different. Today, a thought lingered in his mind—he was considering giving her a chance… not out of interest, but to test something. To see if his body would react the same way it had with Sera.
Azron deliberately walked into a quiet hallway where no attendants were present, the silence stretching around him like a held breath.
Lady Lia seized the opportunity and took a different path that would lead her directly into his way.
As Azron approached, she stepped forward and allowed her body to fall, carefully timing it so he would have no choice but to catch her.
Azron saw through the act instantly, recognizing the precision behind it.
And yet, he caught her.
"Apologies, my Lord. I tripped," Lady Lia said softly, her voice innocent and breathy as she held onto him. Her hands rested against his firm chest, her face close—too close—her breath warm against his skin as her fingers subtly tightened.
Azron looked down at her, his grip steady as he held her in place, his expression unreadable. He did not let go. He waited, his focus turning inward.
He waited for something—anything—to stir within him, searching for even the faintest reaction.
Sera had been this close once. Even closer.
And yet, there was nothing.
No pull. No heat. No desire.
Only a faint, unsettling sense of discomfort creeping beneath his skin, cold and unwelcome.
Lady Lia's gaze softened as she admired him at such proximity, her lips curving into a faint, confident smile as she mistook his stillness for interest. She leaned closer, slowly, deliberately, her intent unmistakable as she moved to close the distance between them, her eyes lowering to his lips.
Before her lips could meet his, Azron released her.
Without warning and without hesitation.
He turned and walked away, his steps steady, leaving no room for misunderstanding, leaving her behind without a second glance.
Lady Lia remained frozen in place, her expression caught between shock and disbelief. For a moment, she had thought she had succeeded—that he had finally responded, that her persistence had paid off.
Yet once again, she was left behind, her efforts unanswered, her pride quietly stung.
This was a stupid idea.
Azron exhaled quietly, his jaw tightening as he continued walking, the faint echo of irritation lingering. None of the women had stirred anything within him. Not even Lady Lia. He could not bring himself to feel anything for her, no matter how close she came.
His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to a single memory.
Sera.
His mind was filled with thoughts that he didn't realize he had already arrived at the entrance of Grand Ersi's Chamber, his steps carrying him forward out of habit rather than awareness. He stepped inside without pause and didn't notice a woman also stepping out at the same moment.
Their bodies collided abruptly. The impact was strong enough to send the woman stumbling back, her footing unstable as her dress tangled around her legs, threatening to pull her down.
Instinctively, Azron reacted without thinking—his arms shot forward and caught her firmly before she could fall. His eyes immediately dropped to the woman in his hold, his breath catching for the briefest moment.
It was Sera.
But her appearance was different—so different that for a heartbeat, he almost did not recognize her.
She wasn't wearing her usual oversized men's clothing. Instead, she was dressed in soft silk that traced her form, adorned with delicate jewelry that shimmered faintly with every movement, making her seem almost unfamiliar.
He didn't know that Grand Ersi had sent Shrin to fetch Sera from her home that morning. And upon hearing of the ongoing banquet, Grand Ersi had insisted she wear another set of her daughter's clothes and jewelry.
Sera had been on her way out when she collided with Lord Azron at the entrance. The unfamiliar clothes and jewelry restricted her movements again, making even the smallest motion awkward. The sudden impact threw her off balance completely, her body unable to steady itself as she leaned into him, caught within his hold.
She looked up at Azron's face as he held her. His left hand was firm against her back while the other rested at her waist, anchoring her in place. Their closeness sent a sudden rush through her chest, her heart beating faster than she expected—faster than it ever had before.
It was a feeling she had not noticed the day she pressed him against the wall in her room, too distracted then by concern for General Rin to feel anything else. But now… now she felt everything clearly, sharply, as if nothing else existed. Her entire attention was drawn to him.
His face was unbelievably handsome up close. There was something about it—something both terrifying and gentle at the same time—that made it hard for her to look away. She couldn't explain it, couldn't understand why her chest felt so tight, why her breath seemed harder to control.
Azron was just as stunned.
He had intended to avoid her, to distance himself, to suppress whatever strange reaction she stirred in him—but fate had brought her directly into his arms again, leaving him no space to retreat.
It was the first time he had seen her clearly like this—different from the feminine clothes filled with blood during the assassination attempt. Her feminine side, no longer hidden—and she was… beautiful.
The realization struck him harder than expected.
His body reacted again, just as it had before—but this time it was different. It wasn't sudden or fleeting. It was deeper. Slower. Something that spread through him in a way he couldn't control. It wasn't just desire. It was something unfamiliar. Something he could not name. And that unsettled him more than anything else.
His gaze lingered longer than it should have, tracing her features as if trying to understand what had changed—or what had always been there. His hand remained where it was, not letting her go, his grip steady but unintentional now. His mind and heart clashed violently, pulling him in opposite directions—one urging him to step back, to regain control, the other urging him to stay, to understand, to feel.
But he couldn't force anything.
He couldn't assume.
He couldn't risk being wrong.
He told himself Sera must feel differently.
If he was indeed drawn to her, then perhaps she did not feel the same. He was used to women showing their affection openly, boldly, without hesitation. But Sera was not like them. Everything she had ever done for him—her actions, her loyalty—came from duty, from service.
It meant nothing.
That was what he told himself.
And besides, he refused to acknowledge what was forming inside him. He refused to give in to something so uncertain, something that threatened his control.
Abruptly, Azron straightened her, steadying her body before immediately letting go, his hands leaving her as if the contact itself had become dangerous. Without a word, he turned and walked away, his steps firm and controlled, leaving no room for hesitation. He did not look back as Sera struggled to regain her balance and fix her clothes. He was determined to avoid her—to ignore this foolish, growing attachment before it could take root.
When Sera finally lifted her head to face him, he was already gone.
Gone so quickly it was as if he had never been there at all.
His absence left her frozen, her thoughts momentarily blank as she looked around, searching for even a glimpse of him—but he was nowhere to be found.
Where is he?
Then the memory struck her.
That day.
The wall.
What she had done.
A wave of panic rushed through her.
"Oh, no. He's angry. He's not gonna change his mind about bringing me to the North, is he?" she muttered to herself, biting her lip as worry tightened in her chest. "Sera, you messed up big time."
She stood there for a moment, staring blankly at the path ahead, her thoughts racing as she tried to figure out what to do. She couldn't lose this chance. She couldn't stay trapped in the city. Determination replaced hesitation as she quickly moved, her steps faster now as she went to look for Lord Azron, hoping to apologize before it was too late.