"Eiran is... my child?" Ren whispered, the words trembling in his throat. Too fragile to speak aloud, yet the thought alone stung at the corners of his eyes. Tears gathered—tears he didn’t dare to shed—but they were tears of joy.
If he was right, it meant his child had been by his side all along.
If. His heart raced at the possibility alone.
"And... That means... I failed to recognize him?" His lips quivered—not from cold, but from fear, guilt, and disgust at himself. "What kind of father am I?" He pressed his teeth against his lips hard, eyes closing as if to shut it all out, holding himself still.
But nothing was confirmed yet. Nothing at all.
"I need to confirm." He rose from the chair; the chair screeched against the floor.
When he opened the door, darkness greeted him. To his left—no light. To his right—none either.
"Did someone accidentally put out all the candles?" He frowned, barely able to see. His heels shifted left again, toward Eiran’s quarters, when he bumped into something sturdy—warm and soft.
He narrowed his eyes, though he couldn’t make out much. His hands brushed over whatever it was, trying to trace its shape, when a voice spoke, smooth and mocking:
"Attendant. What are you trying to do, make a move on your master?"
Ren stiffened, snatching his hand back.
"My Lord, why would I?"
"Why would you not? The whole empire admires me," Zayden stated, stepping closer—only an inch away from Ren’s face.
Ren could feel the General’s warm breath graze his skin. He stepped back, fumbling for a candle.
He lit my room’s candles but can’t light the ones in the hallway?
He didn’t dare say it aloud. Only death would await him. After all, he had witnessed Zayden’s temper rise, even if only once. The bloodthirsty man he heard of existed within him, even if hidden under the mask of his smiles.
"The empire does not include me."
Zayden chuckled, suspicion flashing in his eyes. Had his attendant just slipped the truth?
"What do you mean? Are you not from here?" His grin widened, hungry for another mistake. Then, he could catch him red-handed. Prove to himself that even this time, he was right.
"Of course I am. I meant... as someone who has only ever lived in the woods, I am unfamiliar with most things the empire’s people share. For example, admiration for you."
And you’re wasting my time now.
He rolled his eyes, waiting for the conversation to end. He needed to see Eiran urgently, while everyone was asleep, to make sure he wasn’t fooling himself—that the possibility of him being his son was real. Then he gasped, hands covering his mouth only to sigh in relief that Zayden couldn’t see his expression.
But Ren was wrong. The General’s sharpened sight caught it clearly. Yet anger didn’t stir in his veins, nor did his blood boil. Instead, he found it—cute.
He scoffed at himself. Something was terribly wrong with him.
"My Lord, why are you here?"
Zayden’s gaze drifted as he searched for an answer—one that made sense. Because truthfully, he didn’t know.
Was it because Ren was injured, and he feared someone might strike—Duke Danman’s men, like the servant they had killed nights ago? That couldn’t be it. He wasn’t worried about this servant. Surely, it was because of his suspicious demeanor.
He nodded to himself. It was to keep an eye on him—nothing more.
"Ah, I was thirsty," he blurted without thinking.
"The kitchen is that way—but why did you not call for a servant?" He paused before adding, "Or me?"
"Am I a monster, to call for an injured man?" He folded his arms. "I was searching for a maid. I think they all fell asleep."
"Why did you not ring the bell?"
Ren shook his head, followed by a low, "No."
"Then why are you telling me all these? I wanted to fetch water for myself. Is something wrong with that?"
"...No." The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novel~fire~net
Ren’s gaze flickered downward. Could he do things by himself? The General? The one who ordered him around nonstop?
"And what are you, my attendant, doing here, in the dark hallways? Do you plan to escape?"
That was indeed his initial plan. And he was still glad he hadn’t followed such a foolish plan. Otherwise, he couldn’t have returned to the mansion, to his duties, upon not finding his child. He would have lost everything—and the anklet. He would never have come across it either.
The odds were in his favor this time.
To make things right, he needed to do one last thing—confirm Eiran was indeed his child.
"Of course not. I was actually coming to see you," he lied. After all the lies he had spouted, another one wouldn’t make a difference, right?
"To see me?" Zayden was stunned. Tonight, his attendant spoke to him more than he had in the past few months he had worked here. "What is it that you wish to ask me?"
"Eiran... Where did you find him?"
Zayden arched an eyebrow, his gaze sharper than before. Even in the darkness, Ren’s face was clear, as if in daylight. He could feel his pheromones trailing off, but the servant didn’t flinch. Was he truly mistaken? Was he not an omega after all?
The General clenched his fists. Every time Ren stood before him, he felt himself forgetting how to speak. Was it because of the jest the physician had told him? That this man, standing before him, wrapped in bandages, was his fated mate? He laughed at the possibility. But now, he was not so sure.
"Why does that concern you?"
Ren frowned. Answering a question with a question...
"Because I wish to know more about the young master. He calls me Papa, I want to live—"
Zayden snorted, causing Ren to narrow his eyes, perplexed.
He was certain he hadn’t told a farce.
"Wait, what? Did you just realize that he calls you Papa? Did you hit your head, attendant? Because last time I checked, you did not care about him. You left him crying in my arms while he begged you to stay."