In the garden, Eiran and Zayden sat under the large parasole, shading themselves from the bright, burning sunlight. Ren, James, and other servants stood under another parasole, waiting for orders from their masters to follow. Although it was almost seven in the afternoon, the sun shone brighter than ever.
The young boy sipped on his glass of milk, swinging his legs excitedly.
"Papa!" He turned towards the row of servants. "Come sit with us!" He patted the chair next to him, a bright grin on his face.
Ren glanced around, unsure if he should head their way. James smiled, whispering, "Go, papa," he winked. Recently, he began imitating Eiran to tease him.
Inhaling deeply, Ren stepped towards the small table. He looked at Zayden, who grinned without saying a word. This time, he didn’t scowl like he did when Eiran insisted they eat dinner together.
Did he understand that it didn’t matter if Eiran called Ren papa because in the end, only he would remain the child’s sole legal parent?
Although still hesitant, he sat beside Eiran, facing the general.
"Papa, did you know? Hannah said that Dad is VERYYYY scared of—"
"Oh, no, child. Don’t you dare!" Zayden shouted, quickly rushing to cover Eiran’s mouth.
Eiran’s voice muffled as he tried to continue his sentence, pushing his dad’s hand away with all his might.
"Don’t listen to him," Zayden’s cheeks flushed a slight pink.
It was the first time in all these months that he witnessed the general getting embarrassed.
"He cannot breathe," Ren said, lifting his hand to remove Zayden’s but stopped.
Zayden looked into Eiran’s eyes, almost glaring.
"Don’t embarrass your dad in front of his servants," he clicked his tongue. "I need to warn Hannah. She’d better keep that mouth of hers shut," he slowly pulled away his hands, slicking his hair to the back.
Eiran jumped off his chair, sneakily. Once he walked to a safe space, he shouted, "DAD IS SCARED OF CATS!" he giggled before dashing inside the mansion.
"You little!" Zayden grumbled.
He glared at the servants who tried their best to hold their laughter. Once they felt the pair of red eyes, cold and sharper than ever, they immediately regained their composure.
He did not need to worry about Ren. He was a man who never showed any—
Just then, a soft, gentle laughter broke the stillness in the garden, followed by a cold breeze. The wind brushed against his face and long hair, flowing them like a beautiful river.
"C-Cats?" He repeated, unable to hold back his laugh. He inhaled deeply before turning.
For some odd reason, everyone stared at him like he didn’t belong on earth.
For a moment, Zayden simply observed. Strong shoulders, solid frame, yet that laugh—so soft, so unguarded—made his prior anger fade.
He noted it carefully.
It wasn’t obvious at first glance; Ren’s body spoke of strength and discipline, a presence meant to intimidate. But the faint warmth in his expression, the gentle curve of his smile, betrayed a hidden layer beneath the rigid exterior.
His suspicion was right—this was an omega hiding in plain sight, quiet, restrained, and... strangely pretty. But why? He needed to know, at any coast now.
Finally, something that isn’t about grabbing a sword and shedding blood.
Just when every servant concluded: Today, the general will kill Ren, Zayden took a seat, as calm as ever.
"I-I apologize. I shouldn’t have laughed like that..."
The servant had returned to his usual self. Lifeless, dull, empty. But now, Zayden could smell it—a fresh orange blossom fragrance.
"If I didn’t know you were a beta, I would have thought you were an omega," he chuckled, taking a sip of his tea.
Just then, even if briefly, he noticed Ren’s eyes widen for a moment. The servant was unexpectedly quick to change his expression, appearing as calm and composed as ever.
"I am a beta," he said, gaze flickering up.
With a loud thud, he rose from the chair.
"I should go look for the young master."
He bowed, heading inside the mansion with quick steps.
Zayden smiled, watching the frustrated servant. He had never been good with omegas—faintly even sensing their pheromones—but this one’s scent hit him from miles away. He had even asked his other servants; all insisted the attendant was a beta, claiming they never noticed any pheromones.
"How did my attendant hide his scent all these months...?" he murmured to himself, a flicker of excitement in his tone. Slowly, deliberately, he began piecing together the truth.
His quick steps faltered once he reached a dark corridor, away from everyone. Somewhere no one would find him.
The general’s gaze...
Ren realized it right away. The general figured out something. Perhaps he was joking, like he always did. But what if he knew? Why didn’t he imprison him yet, as he did to James? His second gender had to remain a secret, locked in a box forever. He had to hide it from the world, if possible, even from himself.
From whom, and whom will you hide it?
"Everyone," Ren answered, his voice low, trembling.
Why don’t you just admit it?
You were meant to remain in the temple. Forever, and ever.
Ren clenched his fists. The word ’temple’ no longer defined the place he once was grateful to or the place he once called ’home’.
"N-No, that place... those people..." His voice cracked.
If only you hadn’t followed him!
He would have been alive!
His breath caught in his throat. Shaky hands flew to his ears, covering them. Slowly, his back slid against the wall as he curled into a tight ball.
You’ve killed so many that it doesn’t even matter to you, right? You don’t feel anything at all!
"S-Shut up. T-That’s not true," he repeated like a spell that would silence all the voices echoing in his mind.
It wasn’t the first time, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. These words will haunt him until the end of his life. However, he didn’t care if it meant he would remember Ilyan, even if through pain.
How dare you smile? You don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve happiness.
If you’re sorry, you need to leave this place.
"I-I will... after the banquet... And keep my promise to Ilyan."