CH 4

The reason why the officer on duty could recognize Ian, who was dressed in a simple shirt without his uniform and medals, among ordinary soldiers was due to his unique appearance.

Although its history was relatively short, Grand Batten was a world-class power in politics, economy, and military. But above all, it was famous for the beautiful appearance of the Grand Batten royal family.

Especially Prince Ian and his twin sister, Princess Charlotte, who resemble Queen Violet.

In Grand Batten, there is a saying that although there are many blond, blue-eyed, and fair-skinned city men in the kingdom, a real “Ian Prince” can be recognized at a glance.

“You can’t confuse him even if you wanted to. The real Prince Ian looks different.”

As everyone gathered around and talked, the officer could tell at a glance that the person in front of him was His Royal Highness Prince Ian, the Duke of Baldoma, the Marquess of Huntington, and the Earl of Northumber.

There were many titles for Prince Ian, but during the military, he was known as ‘Major Ian Baldoma.’

In any case, it was not a good sign that Ian had appeared on the floor where the commanders of lower ranks stayed, as if the guard was frightened.

The guard bid farewell to Lieutenant Roger Highton in his heart.

***

As Ian patiently whispered the answer to the guard, the room was thrown into chaos by the sound of a doorknob turning.

“Baby, baby!”

The sneaky guest angrily slapped the back of the lieutenant, who was panting in a daze on top of her.

“Baby! Roger Heaton! The door!”

When he still didn’t wake up, she shouted something cryptic and kicked him in the stomach.

Sprawled out on the carpet, Roger Heaton realised what was happening.

“…I told that bastard to wait.”

Roger scrambled to his feet, pulled his trousers up around his thighs, and stooped to roughly grab his uniform coat from the carpet.

“I’ll kill you!”

Roger shoved his arms haphazardly into his uniform coat, determined to kill the soldier who had dared to interrupt the crucial moment. He made a deliberately loud clatter of his boots as he headed for the door as a warning the soldier outside.

“You bastard, how dare you try to open the door against the orders of your superiors? You’ll have to hang upside down to regain your sanity….”

Next, he was about to punch the soldier who couldn’t understand the topic in anger.

But an unexpected person was standing in front of him.

‘Prince Ian!’

Agh! Roger screamed inwardly, but reflexively saluted at his superior. At times like this, his body was better than his head.

“Lieutenant Heaton.”

Ian’s eyes narrowed as he scanned him from head to toe.

His posture, his voice, Roger prided himself on being impeccable, but his attire could be faulted.

He could barely fit one arm into his crisp white uniform coat. His wheat-coloured hair, which is always carefully secured with a pomade, looks dishevelled like someone who had been attacked by seagulls.

Ian bared his teeth and laughed, then spoke in a pleasant voice.

“You shouldn’t have opened the door so roughly.”

He pointed to the guard, who couldn’t avoid the door and was now rolling on the carpet.

“Thanks to you, our soldier is injured.”

The guard was touched by the prince’s attentiveness. Little did he realise that his warm glance meant, ‘You’ve got a hard head if you can’t even dodge a door.’

As someone who had seen Ian for a total of four years as a fellow cadet and subordinate, Roger knew. His face paled.

“I’m pleased that you’re consistent.”

Those words meant that he was happy because he always provided a reason to be scolded. Roger’s jaw reflexively clenched.

‘I’ve made a mistake.’

Despite the stunningly pretty smile on Ian’s face, he looked the most disgusting Roger had ever seen him.

***

Four days earlier, the King William’s fleet had encountered pirates.

They were brave souls who charged even after seeing the Grand Batten’s flag. It was a common occurrence, but the captain had to keep an eye on the damage caused to their own side during the battle.

However, Prince Ian, or rather, Major Baldoma, who served in the army as a typical royal, was not sitting in the rear as usual.

As commander, he stood at the front, carrying the flag, and in the event of a shipboard battle, he would step forward and raise his gun with his own precious hand to blow the enemy’s head off.

Despite having witnessed this scene many times, the soldiers of the King William’s fleet, including the captain, could not easily adapt to the prince’s leadership.

“Please sit down, Prince!”

But Ian was a gifted officer. No one dared to stop him.

Then it happened. A bullet from a pirate’s musket grazed the prince’s arm without warning.

Do you even know who he is!

The color that symbolized Grand Batten happened to be white, and accordingly, the naval uniforms were also white.

When the captain saw the rapidly spreading blood on the prince’s forearm, he was furious. He was guilty of having the prince as a subordinate.

Although the bullet only grazed the prince’s arm and the injury was not considered significant by Ian, the same could not be said for his superior. The captain was devastated when he saw the blood spreading on the prince’s arm. It was his fault for placing the prince in danger. The captain’s dream was to retire with honor, and he couldn’t bear the thought of failing his duty and tarnishing his record.

The injury was minor, but because the one who was wounded was the prince, it was clear that it was a serious injury. This incident was the reason why the quiet coastal town of Roland suddenly became the anchorage of the Grand Batten Navy.

The captain, who took over the top hotel in Roland immediately, began preparing to send back two of the five ships, including Major Baldoma, to Grand Batten.

Ian obeyed the captain’s unusual order to return without question. Of course, it wasn’t because he felt sorry for his captain that he chose to return.

‘If I go back this time, I might not have any more chances to wear a uniform.’

His military career was coming to an end anyway.

Ian was a man close to the throne.

The navy might have been his calling, but it didn’t matter to anyone whether it suited him. A certain amount of military service was one of the duties of a man of the crown, and once fulfilled, it was done.

‘Even if I don’t do anything, I’ll be a general in ten years.’

Ian told himself.

Even if he did no more missions, he would still receive regular honourable promotions. And before he knew it, he would be admiral. Just as he had gone from lieutenant to major in a single year after graduating from the academy, in a time of peace without war.

The highest achievement without much effort. Such was the life of the second in line to the throne.

Others could only envy it, but to Ian, it was all bland and boring now. A life that required him to treat his body as a precious commodity was not for him.

It was particularly disappointing this time. It was probably due to pouring out his passion relentlessly for three years.

‘My next duty will be to marry a princess from another country.’

His Royal Highness Prince Ian David Martin Astius.

With the many perks that come with the title, he has many obligations.

Aristocrats are snobby. They were expected to marry into the so-called ‘proper’ upper classes.

Royalty is even more unusual. It was not uncommon for them to marry their cousins to maintain their noble lineage and alliances between countries.

It was common knowledge that royalty would marry royalty and nobility would marry nobility.

Perhaps the next duty of this beautiful man, who would finally turn twenty-four in the coming summer, would be to marry a princess of another country.

An early return was better than a stay at a mooring.

His head always made the most efficient and rational choice, but it was strangely, unmistakably frustrating.

The thought made Ian’s lips curl up even more fiercely.

Major Ian Baldoma, who had to return to Grand Batten tonight, had to transfer some of his rights to his direct subordinate, Lieutenant Roger Heaton. It was known that if a superior called, the subordinate had to run to him within a minute.

It was the right call to for the officer to come straight back to him when Roger asked them to wait for a few minutes.

Ian could easily guess why Roger couldn’t come back right away.

He must have been unable to resist his habit of running off to meet various women.

Roger was a promiscuous bastard who was busy meeting many women as soon as he got off at the port. The problem was that he touched anyone without discrimination.

This got him in trouble a few times, but he always thought he had it under control.

But superiors aren’t stupid. They knew about it, but they didn’t discipline Roger because it was off-duty and personal. And who doesn’t have a personal life like that?

‘What the hell is wrong with him?’

Is it really the case that the balls rule the brain? Ian couldn’t understand these people.

For example, there is His Majesty the King, his father, who is famous in this regard as the ruler of Grand Batten.

The only blemish on Grand Batten’s reputation was his personal life. Ian recalled some of the outlandish scandals that surrounded him.

His already low mood was quickly sinking, but that was okay. There are enough guilty parties to go around.

Ian smiled, genuinely relieved.

It was a lovely smile that melted anyone who saw it, but Roger’s complexion suddenly turned dark.

“Don’t drop it off yet.”

Ian commanded Roger to maintain the colossus salute, then stretched out his long legs and pushed the cabin door fully open. At the same time, a piercing scream erupted from inside the room.

“You can get out.”

Roger lowered his arm and tried to close the door belatedly as he left the room, but Ian didn’t allow it.

“Shall I have someone stand guard?”

“My room is too messy…”

Ian’s blue eyes stared coldly at Roger, who quickly stopped speaking.

The woman who had been hiding in Roger’s room began to flee, clutching her clothes roughly in her arms and wrapped in a hotel gown. The hem of her gown swept across a table at the side of the hotel, sending a pile of letters crashing to the floor. Roger wiped his forehead at the tumultuous flight.

Even in her haste, she caught sight of Prince Ian and paused in her tracks, only to see the stern face of the chamberlain, now his faithful servant.

Even as she was busy running away, she saw Prince Ian and stopped in her tracks, but the attendant, who had now become Ian’s faithful servant, shooed her away with a stern face.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Ian entered the narrow cabin with a straight face. His brow furrowed as he took in the clutter of the room, and he gracefully crossed his legs as he sat down at the only clean-looking chair at the table. Roger closed the cabin door behind him and stood in front of Ian.

“You seem to be the worst among your peers.”

“Your Highness…”

“Quite foolish.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I told you not to bring women to the quarters of the lieutenants, captains, or commanders. It tarnishes the image of the Grand Batten Navy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. You broke orders, you’ll go to jail. What else.”

It was so clear and refreshing that Roger, who had been lost in thought, started to ramble on with excuses.

As he listened, Ian’s gaze suddenly fell on the pile of letters that had fallen from the woman’s vigorous sweeping of the table earlier.

At first glance, there must have been more than twenty. They had only been at the mooring for four days, yet he had time to exchange letters with these women here. A snort escaped him.

Roger, who had been making excuses for his sudden laughter, shut his mouth in horror.

Ian’s eyes narrowed. Strangely, most of the envelopes were identical. He bent down and picked up an apricot-coloured envelope.

“…Natalie Dowse?”

The handwriting was unusually angular and heavy, as if it had been typewritten.