Chapter 117: A Display Of Affection For All To See

Julian felt his intent stare and gulped, the lump in his throat rolling down then up again.

"Your Grace," he whispered, his own breath feeling hot as it passed through his lips.

"We’re alone now," The Duke said, but Julian looked at the Knights still standing by. "Why are you red? Do you have a fever?"

But Julian shook his head.

"It’s just... you’re too close... Lucien." The words came out lower than a whisper, as if he wished they wouldn’t be heard, but the Duke heard him.

The corner of the Duke’s lips tilted up a bit, watching Julian act in a way that no longer worried him.

"I’d like to be a little more closer, Julian," he whispered, and Julian’s eyes dilated, heat creeping up his pale face.

Was the Duke flirting with him right now? In the very courthouse that he had almost been sentenced as a criminal? Seriously?

The Duke nearly chuckled, but then his eyes fell on the crutches, and his lips curved down in a frown.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked. "Did the priest not do a thorough job?"

Julian caught his gaze on the crutches and shook his head.

"No, I just brought it for formality, so it seems I’m still hurt, haha." he laughed nervously, awkward with the situation they were currently in. "Lucien," he called softly. "My legs are fine now, thank you."

His heart thumped. He had never told someone thank you so much in his life, both the past and this one. He had lost count of how many times he uttered those words to the Duke, and now those words didn’t seem to hold as much value anymore.

He wished he could do something to pay the Duke back for all the care, protection, and risks he took on his behalf.

And as if the Duke could read those words right out of his face, he lowered his face even more, his lips grazing the top of Julian’s ear as he said,

"Julian, if you really want to thank me, there is something you can do for me." Julian clamped his ear and turned his face, his entire face glowing red.

What was that just now?

But before he could even try to question the intentions behind those words or make sense of it, the Duke swept him off the chair and into his arms, as though he were a bride.

Julian panicked right away.

"Your... Lucien," he called. "I can walk now. My legs are fine."

But the Duke took it all in a deaf ear.

"If we’re going to make it work and look like you’re still recovering, you can’t walk on your own." Yes, that made sense, but Julian would rather use the method he came in with.

"The crutches. I can use the crut—"

CRACK!

The Duke stepped on them with a heavy force that destroyed the poor thing in one go before Julian could finish giving his alternative. Then, he smiled at his horrified expression and said,

"Now, the crutches won’t work. So just hold on tight to me so you won’t fall. Ah, but do not worry. I shall never drop you."

That was honestly the least of Julian’s worries. He was beyond embarrassed.

He knew there were still people outside the courthouse, so to come out like this, in the arms of the Duke, they were very much making their relationship public for all to see.

And so, as the Duke walked out of the hall with the knights in tow, the reporters who were waiting to get a word from the Duke and the new Royal tutor saw the scene.

This was worse than Julian thought. The loud lashes of the ancient cameras made him feel the gravity of the situation even more. It would no longer be a rumor of word of mouth, but the evidence would be right there in the pictures in the newspaper.

He wished the ground could just open up and swallow him.

The questions came in floods, asking what their real relationship was, and asking the Duke if he was finally over his deceased wife, who had made him mourn for seven years.

It seemed like the scene of the Duke holding Julian so intimately had completely diverted their attention from the court matter and the rebellion charges, and they were more interested in covering a page for the gossip of the century.

But Alaric did not slow his pace or give them the satisfaction of an answer.

The Knights stood like a wall over the reporters, clearing a path to the carriage, and let the Duke walk with no issues of a physical confrontation.

His stride was long and steady as he ignored the sea of flashing lights and raining questions. He looked down at the top of Julian’s head, a flicker of amusement dancing in his blue eyes at the way Julian was trying to make himself invisible by hiding his face in his coat.

"Don’t hide too much," Alaric murmured, his voice low enough to be drowned out by the crowd but clear to Julian’s ears. "If they can’t see your face, they’ll just invent a story about how you’re swooning. Is that what you want?"

Julian groaned softly, his fingers digging into the fine fabric of Alaric’s coat. "They’re going to say that anyway, Lucien." He murmured, almost like he was pouting. "You just crushed my crutches, so this could happen, didn’t you?"

"A necessary sacrifice for the narrative," the Duke replied smoothly, and Julian narrowed his eyes.

The Duke definitely planned this type of exit. He said it before that he had no intentions of keeping their relationship hidden, and he never said he would keep quiet about it either.

This was him telling the entire Empire that the Royal Tutor, Julian Von Astrea, a member of his Household, belonged to him and no one else.

How childish. Julian thought, his grip squeezing tight on the coat. But even as he thought it was a childish act, he could not stop his heart from thumping and fluttering, and his face flushing.

He did not hate this childish act. It was... sweet.