I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Yerel strolled at a slow, easy pace, hands folded loosely behind his back as sunlight hit him from the tall windows. Beside him, Karson matched his stride without missing a beat.

For a few steps, the only sound between them was the quiet thud of their footsteps.

"The proposal from this morning," Karson spoke up. "I assume it caught you off guard as well."

Yerel didn’t immediately answer. He kept his eyes fixed ahead, watching a pair of servants bow deeply before hurrying down a side passage. Only after they were well out of earshot did he break his silence.

"I admit, I did not expect her gaze to land on Marielle Valtrane."

Yerel paused in his step for a brief second, his gaze lingering on the quiet garden visible through the glass panes to his left. In his mind, he pictured the Valtrane woman. Marielle had always left an undeniable impression on him. She lacked the refined, practiced softness typical of noble ladies, carrying herself with energy of a seasoned frontline soldier.

Truthfully, if Yerel had met Marielle without knowing her lineage, he would have assumed she was Zarius’s older sister rather than his younger one. She possessed the same iron-stubborn posture, the same intense stare, and a complete unwillingness to mince words with anyone, regardless of their title. To imagine Iryna actively seeking out someone as direct and volatile as Marielle was... baffling, to say the least.

"Lady Marielle is not known for her political flexibility," Karson remarked dryly, adjusting the folio under his arm. "It seems the princess has spent far too much time around the North lately."

Yerel let out a small, almost imperceptible breath through his nose. "Seems like."

"What do you make of it, Your Highness?" Karson asked, glancing sideways at his prince. "Strategically speaking?"

"It is an interesting development," Yerel replied, resuming his slow walk down the hall. "I fully expected Iryna to be betrothed to House Valtrane," Yerel replied, resuming his slow walk down the hall. "But I certainly didn’t expect her to choose that Valtrane for herself. Though knowing Marielle’s personality, she will undoubtedly despise the very idea of it."

Before Karson could respond, a tall man in imperial guard uniform stepped into the hallway. His posture straightened instantly upon spotting the Crown Prince, his hand dropping to rest against his chest in a formal salute. It was the Vice Captain of the Imperial Guard.

Yerel stopped walking, his expression shifting into the cold, attentive stillness required of his rank. He took one look at the tension in the Vice Captain’s jaw and knew immediately that this was not a routine patrol check.

"Your Highness," the Vice Captain greeted, his voice firm and respectful. "Forgive the interruption."

"Vice Captain," Yerel acknowledged with a brief nod. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries in the open hallway. "Follow us to the study."

"Understood, sir."

The three men turned down the private gallery, moving quickly and without another word until they reached the thick doors of Yerel’s private study. Karson stepped ahead, pushing the doors open and allowing the prince and the officer to enter before closing them firmly behind them.

Yerel walked around the desk, but he didn’t sit down. He turned to face the Vice Captain, resting one hand on the back of his heavy armchair.

"You got anything?" Yerel commanded simply.

"We followed the primary lead regarding the individual she repeatedly referenced in her private entries, the traveling merchant who supposedly provided her with the poison."

"And?"

"We came up empty, Your Highness," the Vice Captain admitted, his tone dropping a fraction. "My men spent the last hours quietly sweeping the lower market district, the foreign quarters, and the merchant inns along the river docks, but no one recognizes the man. Since the journal entries contained no specific name or trade mark for this individual, we cross-referenced all foreign traders and new merchant arrivals in the capital over the past six months. No one fits the vague description. The stall owners near where Wina claimed to meet him say they have never seen anyone matching that description hanging around her."

Karson frowned slightly, stepping up beside the desk. "A dead end? Or a false identity manufactured by the maid to cover her tracks?"

"Neither, most likely," Yerel said quietly.

He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he processed the information. His mind worked through the possibilities, stripping away the noise to look at the practical reality of the situation.

"If this merchant was indeed the true mastermind targeting Iryna or Solaric for deep personal or political motives," Yerel reasoned slowly, "he would not have lingered in the capital after the maid was compromised. The moment Wina died, any intelligent conspirator would have burned his records, packed his belongings, and crossed the territorial border before nightfall. Why would he stay anywhere near a city crawling with imperial guards?"

The Vice Captain nodded slowly. "That was our initial concern as well, Sir. That he has already fled the capital."

"However," Yerel continued, raising a single finger, "if he is simply an ordinary merchant. a mid-level middleman or a smuggler who took a bribe to pass letters without knowing the full weight of the plot, he won’t run forever. An ordinary trader relies on his routes to survive. He will wander back into the trade hubs at some point, assuming the dust has settled."

Yerel looked directly at the Vice Captain. "We do not waste resources chasing shadows across the entire continent on a dead maid’s word. But we do not leave our doors unguarded either. Keep a discrete rotation of guards posted near the primary trade gates and the lower district docks. If a suspicious figure attempts to enter or exit the city with heavy cargo, I want to know immediately."

The Vice Captain stood at attention, bowing his head deeply. "I have already kept a low-profile watch stationed at the main routes, Your Highness. But... I apologize that we could not bring you a more satisfying result today."

Yerel stared at the officer for a quiet second, the strict rigidity in his expression softening just a fraction into something genuine.

"There is no need to apologize," Yerel said smoothly. "You and your men executed your duties thoroughly. That is precisely what I required of you. You have done your job well."

Relief flashed briefly across the Vice Captain’s face before he recovered his military composure. "Thank you, Your Highness. I will oversee the gate rotations personally."

"Dismissed."

With a final salute, the Vice Captain turned and exited the study, the doors closing softly behind him.

Silence returned to the room. Yerel stood by his desk, running through the brief investigation one last time before letting out a sigh.

"A ghost merchant and a sudden northern betrothal," Karson murmured from the side, breaking the quiet. "The palace is becoming remarkably noisy this week."

"Let it be noisy," Yerel replied, walking over to the window to look out at the courtyard below. "As long as we keep our eyes on the board, noise is just noise."

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