Reynard said menacingly, grinding his teeth.

“He’s our uncle!”

“What?”

Valentine shouted, desperately clinging to Reynard’s heavy arm in the gap between them. In his effort to separate them, Valentine was also getting crushed between the alphas.

“Dalton Wiche! He’s my uncle! So please let go quickly…!”

Thud.

At that moment, the grip on the collar loosened and Dalton’s body came down with a loud noise. His lifted heels fully touched the ground.

“Dalton! Dalton! Are you okay?”

“Cough, cough!”

Only dry coughs scattered from Dalton’s mouth, who had suffered sudden violence.

Dalton coughed violently, his neck choked from the collar grab. And Valentine, restless and fidgeting. Reynard watched this quietly for a moment before clearing his throat as if coming to his senses. He slowly, naturally opened the hand that had been holding the collar.

Then, as if he had been holding his hand like that from the beginning, as if there had never been a thug grabbing someone’s collar, he began to smooth out Dalton’s crumpled clothes with such a smooth gesture. He was smoothing out the collar area so meticulously and neatly that Valentine thought for a moment he was a valet serving a gentleman. Or a former butler, or maybe an iron…!

“I apologize for my rudeness.”

His voice changed, becoming extremely polite.

Valentine looked at Reynard with an expression of disbelief. It was absurd enough that the hand grabbing the collar had transformed into an iron, but such an excessively polite attitude? It was an extremely rapid change of stance.

Moreover, while his words spoke of apology, his posture remained haughty. Is this a characteristic of people at the top of the social hierarchy, or does it just feel that way because he’s looking down due to his height? Or is it because of that innately shameless expression that seems incapable of embarrassment?

Somehow, seeing the brazen personalities of the alphas he’s been encountering lately, Valentine thought he needed serious reflection on whether these people keep sticking to him because he’s a pushover… Valentine became completely confused between his coughing uncle and the strange human iron.

“Cough, ahem.”

Dalton’s coughing gradually subsided, and finally he cleared his throat and stood normally like a regular person. Reynard confirmed this, stepped back, and bowed politely to greet him.

Valentine saw for the first time that he could greet someone other than himself in such a polite and formal manner.

‘So he knows how to do that too…’

Reynard’s unexpected behavior evoked contemplation even in the chaotic situation.

“Let me introduce myself formally. I am Reynard Dennox, heir to the Grand Duchy of Dennox, lord of the Valkyries territory.”

Even in his deeply bowed waist and polite greeting, there was an overwhelming aura.

It was a courteous and formal self-introduction that one might make to a foreign king. The Wiche family members watching this were not only dumbfounded, but Dalton even missed the timing to get angry about the rude collar-grabbing.

In this absurd situation where they had to swallow their words and forcibly respond to the formal greeting received unexpectedly…

“I am Dalton Wiche. But listen here!”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, just now…!”

“I sincerely apologize.”

“A moment ago…!”

“I didn’t recognize you as we’re meeting for the first time.”

“No…!”

“I’ve committed a great discourtesy to Valentine’s family.”

Valentine’s mouth fell open as he watched the two.

This shameless alpha is definitely deliberately not giving any chance to argue. Seeing how he keeps cutting off others’ words so sharply, not allowing even a single word to be spoken properly, this is certain.

Valentine shook his head, thinking that the wit to evade a tight spot was also shamelessly fitting for him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Amidst all this, Reynard bowed to Dalton, who had no title, and extended his large hand to request a handshake.

“Oh…”

Dalton, merely the heir to a count’s family. Half unable to refuse the handshake offered by a war hero and marquis who lowered his noble body and personally requested it in a humble manner, and half caught off guard by the overwhelming handshake request from the large-bodied man, he was now shaking hands with him. Although in his heart he wanted to immediately punch that shameless shoulder, the nobleman accustomed to extreme manners and social behavior was unknowingly shaking hands as if with a welcome person.

Moreover, all of this happened rapidly in less than a minute.

‘That terrible quick-wittedness again in a situation like this…’

Valentine unknowingly clicked his tongue.

It was a smoothness and superior speed, and outstanding wit that he could never achieve even if he were reborn.

Dalton, who had been shaking hands in a daze, came to his senses. Then, with cold eyes, he opened his mouth.

“I’ll hear about why our child was here like this another time.”

Even to Dalton’s curt words spoken in a stiff voice, an immediate response followed.

“I’ll visit you tomorrow.”

“No, next time…!”

“I’ll visit you formally tomorrow and explain.”

“…!”

He had promised a next time like a common courtesy, not wanting to exchange words for whatever reason. Dalton was at a loss for words seeing someone mention a specific date, “tomorrow,” saying they would come right away. It was an aggressive attitude he had never seen anywhere.

Unable to interrogate a difficult relationship and a man he was meeting for the first time, he had put on the brakes, thinking to leave it to his older brother, Valentine’s father, and shake down his beloved nephew first.

His face had turned red and blue from being constantly wrapped up by Reynard. Dalton’s facial muscles twitched before he changed his attitude.

“Let’s go, Valentine!”

He had decided to ignore him.

Dalton took off his morning coat without even looking at Reynard. Then he placed it on Valentine’s shoulders, who was wearing only a light shirt.

But Reynard was not one to be outdone by such ignoring. A shameless attitude of responding to ignoring with ignoring crossed between them.

“Valentine, can you walk?”

Ignoring Dalton, who was about to grab his nephew’s shoulders and walk out, Reynard gently asked, holding Valentine’s hand tightly and caressing it.

‘When on earth did he grab this hand again…?’

Moreover, perhaps because they were in front of family, he had reverted to formal speech like when they first met.

“Yes… I can walk…”

His dazed mind had long since returned to normal from trying to mediate the battle of nerves between the two alphas. Although his strength might have diminished more than before, his mind was clear. But as if not seeing Valentine’s clear eyes, Reynard was asking warmly, soothing him with a worried expression as if looking at a newborn fawn.

Valentine felt a strange sentiment watching this. Was it because he was an omega pregnant with his child? Somehow it felt more fussy than before.

“Would it be alright if I carried you to the carriage?”

This unprecedentedly polite and affectionate question was abruptly cut off by the angry guardian beside them.

“I’ll take care of our child myself! Valentine, are you unable to walk?”

“No. I’m fine, Uncle.”

“He’s fine. So please stop worrying and let us leave.”

Unable to contain his boiling anger any longer, Dalton spoke firmly, cutting him off.

And Reynard keenly sensed this.

“I understand, then. Valentine.”

Reynard warmly kissed the back of Valentine’s white hand that he had been holding.

“I’ll visit again tomorrow.”

“…”

He easily agreed so as not to upset Dalton further, and completed his farewell greetings more politely and quickly.

“Please return safely. A servant will guide you to the carriage.”

As if fully grasping Dalton’s displeased mood without anything being explained, Reynard did not follow any further. It was an accurate judgment to say goodbye here.

At that neat greeting and conclusion, even Dalton could not say anything more. He could only click his tongue and take Valentine out of the room.

*

The sound of carriage wheels and horseshoes on the stone-paved road split the dark night air.

“Valentine.”

And Dalton’s cold voice split the night air again, where the hoofbeats were echoing. Even in the simple voice calling just the name, sternness and firmness seemed to emanate.

“Dalton…”

Valentine barely answered, looking up at Dalton’s face. His expression was very cowed.

In fact, this expression was Valentine’s desperate act to get scolded less. And contrary to the stern voice and expression, Dalton had already added a lot of affection in his actions, so the tension had eased a bit. He had already behaved quite softly, such as gently wrapping his nephew so he wouldn’t be sick or tired while boarding the carriage.

Who on earth would gently escort the person to be scolded into the carriage like a treasure before scolding them severely, and seat them in the place of honor? After buttoning up the thin morning coat tightly, he even took out a shawl from under the carriage seat and wrapped him up so only his face peeked out. It was as snug as a newborn’s swaddle, without a single gap. He even carefully covered his ankles so they wouldn’t get cold. It was so thorough and tight that if it weren’t for the loving hands, Valentine would have thought Dalton had tied him up with a blanket like arresting a criminal.