Imperial General Zayden Sylvarys—the man everyone in the empire chased at every banquet—was pursuing a man without his knowledge, and miserably failing!
A knight entered the hall, coughing. The General and his attendant stood so close—almost like lovers. He quickly shook his head.
The General had another partner—an omega—with whom he had a son.
"My Lord," the knight bowed after clearing his throat. "The rooms are ready. As for dinner, it has been served there."
Zayden nodded, waving him off.
The man bowed again before leaving.
The General’s gaze returned to Ren, who had already sheathed his sword.
Zayden drew his blade, stepping back before placing it at Ren’s neck. The servant didn’t flinch or try to avoid it.
Frowning, he stepped closer once more and pulled the sword away, lowering it.
"Why did you not move?"
"I believe you would not hurt me," Ren said, his eyes fixed on the silver blade gleaming under the hall’s light.
"What do you mean?" Zayden sighed, sheathing his sword.
"Well... I have done nothing for you to want to hurt me."
"Really?" His gaze doubtful, Zayden asked. After all, he knew very well that even if he hadn’t hurt him yet, he hid secrets. "But are you sure you are not hiding something from me?"
Ren parted his lips slightly.
Now, he was stronger than Zayden. After years of swordsmanship training, he could likely defeat him if he used magic alongside it. Perhaps he could at least reveal his second gender? That way, not every word he’d spoken to Zayden would have been a lie. It was the least truth this man deserved for taking care of his son as his own.
The faint hum snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Why? Will you kill me if I am, indeed, hiding something?" His voice sounded devoid of any emotion.
However, Zayden felt it shake for a moment, even if briefly. He leaned closer to the servant, looking down at him.
"Perhaps... I could spare that lie you have told," he said, his voice barely above a whisper in the large, quiet hall.
Ren thought for a moment. If he revealed the truth, and Zayden confronted him, he could kill the General. After that, Eiran would inherit everything he owned as his son, even if adopted. Then, he could remain by his son’s side without this man roaming around them.
But he didn’t like the idea of this irritating man disappearing like ashes of woods as they burned in blue flames—the kind of fire only Hianshu’s people saw.
"So? Are you telling me? What are you hiding?" Zayden smiled softly.
Ren almost mistook it for a sincere, gentle one. Or perhaps it was but he didn’t want to see it. Or acknowledge it.
"My Lord, I believe... We should head back to your bedrooms. It is late," the servant bowed.
Zayden sighed, watching the man leave. He was so close to making him say it. He sensed Ren’s gaze wandering around—searching for his words.
Damn it! He almost said it...
With his glimmering bright green eyes, Eiran exclaimed.
His voice echoed; almost every servant who worked in the hallway and stood there glanced their way.
Ren hesitated before bending over.
"Why do you want that?"
"Because most of the time your face is hidden by it. I can’t always see it. Right, Dad?" The boy looked up at Zayden, who had been standing behind Ren for a moment.
The servant straightened his posture, bowing immediately.
As soon as the snowstorm ended, Ren insisted on returning to the mansion. Zayden didn’t force him to stay. Instead, he said he would return later.
When did he get here?
He wondered, his gaze lowered to the floor.
"Right..." the General said, his gaze lingering on Ren’s neck, hidden by his long hair. He never thought that the question he had been wondering about—the scar he sometimes noticed but failed to recognize—could be solved in this way: by cutting his hair short!
"Alright! I’ll go get someone to do it!" Eiran exclaimed, running excitedly into the hallway, his small figure disappearing quickly.
Zayden and Ren stared at each other for a moment before both averted their gazes. Lately, they had been making eye contact more often—by more, he meant a whole lot.
It happened during breakfast, training, quests, lunch, time spent with Eiran, dinner, and even when they shared Eiran’s bedroom. Somehow, no matter the situation, their eyes always seemed to meet.
Usually, the General would have made a joke. Something silly like: Am I so handsome that you can’t help but stare?
But he couldn’t even say that as a jester now. Not when he was the one who found this man breathtakingly handsome—to the point he had been dreaming of him almost every night. And when he wasn’t dreaming of him, he found himself fantasizing about him during his rut. His body burned with desire and yearning for him, but he didn’t dare touch him, even if he knew he could have done whatever he wanted with Ren—a servant who had nowhere else to go.
Sometimes, darker thoughts would creep in. On restless nights, he would find himself walking into the garden, staring at the moon, wondering whether to go to Eiran’s bedroom, drag Ren out, and just...
But he held those urges back as well. Because he couldn’t afford to scare him. He was, after all, a mere human.
Humans tended to be frightened by the smallest things. He recalled one time he had met a few pure-blood humans in Hianshu—arrogant, pretentious, and far too proud of their lineage. He had hated the experience. Only two youths he met there had been different, leaving a faint impression that lingered in his mind.
"My Lord," Ren gently brushed his hand at the back of his neck, pulse quickening. If he cut his hair, then he would see that...
"Did you mean it when you said you would spare my life for a lie I have told?"
Zayden arched an eyebrow, giving him a curt nod.
"Then... You will know soon," he simply mumbled.
Was he about to reveal he was an omega? And why so suddenly?
Before Zayden could ask, Eiran had returned with the barber. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novelꜰire.net