018

Sarang stood by a small pond, tossing fish food to the colourful koi that swam eagerly to the surface. As the white cup in his hand emptied, he smiled in satisfaction. The fishpond was one of the most tranquil spots on the Linfield estate.

The soft rustle of grass behind him caught his attention. He turned to find Nathan striding toward him, his expression taut with nerves, his fists clenching and unclenching in agitation.

“We need to talk.” Nathan said, his voice sharp with urgency.

Sarang set the empty cup on the pond’s edge. “Can we not talk here?” He asked, staring at Nathan. and Nathan surveyed their environment. There was no one around but he didn’t get a sense of seclusion in the open space.

Nathan scanned the open space. While no one was in sight, it didn’t feel private enough. “No, we cannot. I need to speak to you in private. Come with me.” He said and grabbed his hand, leading him away.

They disappeared into the shaded cover of the garden’s dense foliage. Without warning, Nathan pinned Sarang firmly against the wall, his lips crashing onto Sarang’s in a kiss that was fierce, almost desperate. Sarang pushed against his chest, his hands drumming with resistance as he struggled against the forceful kiss that lacked any softness and warmth he was familiar with.

He bit Nathan’s lower lips, forcing the alpha to recoil. Sarang wiped his lips, his cheeks flushed.

“You bit me!” Nathan exclaimed, swabbing his bleeding lip.

“Now we’re even,” Sarang shot back, crossing his arms. His frown deepened as he glared at Nathan. “What is wrong with you?”

Nathan sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Sarang’s shoulder. Sarang’s irritation melted into concern then he wrapped his arms around Nathan’s broad back and rubbed it soothingly.

“What’s wrong?” Sarang asked softly.

“You know how much I love you.” Nathan whispered, his breath tickling Sarang’s ear.

“As much as every grain of sand by the seashore.” Sarang replied with a gentle chuckle.

“And endless, like history on parchment.” Nathan added with a faint smile.

“And you know how much I love you.” Sarang said, his tone tender.

“As much as heaven is to man—beautiful,” Nathan murmured, lifting his head. His eyes met Sarang’s.

“Tell me what is troubling my fiancé.”

Nathan straightened his back under Sarang’s scrutiny as he struggled to find the right words. He inhaled, then exhaled deeply.

“I spoke with Father... about us,” Nathan finally said, watching Sarang’s expression shift to anxiety.

“What did he say?” Sarang asked, clutching at his shirt.

Nathan massaged the bridge of his nose. “Father rejected my proposal. He is unwilling to let us marry and he’s adamant about it.”

“Did Master say why?”

Nathan glanced at Sarang, and his eyes softened. He suspected the reason, but his father hadn’t admitted to his accusations and if it were true, he would rather Sarang be oblivious of his father’s immoral desires.

Nathan hesitated, his gaze softening as he looked at Sarang. He suspected the truth but couldn’t bring himself to voice it. His father’s reaction—and his close, affectionate relationship with Sarang—hinted at feelings he didn’t want to confirm. It was best if Sarang was oblivious to his father’s immoral desires. For the first time, Nathan regretted never coming home during the holidays when he was at Oxford.

“He didn’t.” Nathan finally replied.

“Did he say anything else?”

“Nothing.” Nathan replied, his tone bitter.

Sarang slumped against the wall, exhaling shakily. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all you have to say? ‘Oh?’”

Sarang tilted his head. “We have been lovers since childhood. Do you not find it strange that he didn’t react more strongly to a marriage proposal under his nose? Anyone disapproving would have asked questions, but he said nothing.”

“Are you implying father always knew?”

I can’t say for sure,” Sarang admitted. “Master keeps his thoughts to himself. But he’s never acted aware or asked questions before. I may be wrong and there’s hope he’ll let us wed.”

Sarang reached for Nathan’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Should I speak with him?”

Nathan gripped Sarang’s shoulders. “I’ll get Father’s approval. We’ll get married, no matter what it takes.”

“And if he refuses?”

Nathan’s amber eyes darkened. “Then I will find another way. My education in Oxford wasn’t for naught.”

Sarang frowned, his tone softening. “I hope we never have to cross any extreme bridge. I don’t want to be the reason you shatter your relationship with your father. You know he loves you.”

“He loves me, I agree.” Nathan agreed bitterly. “But it is not enough to let me have you.”

“It will be. We just need to understand his reasons and reason with him. Master is a logical man.”

“What if his reason defies logic?” Nathan asked, amber eyes locked with Sarang’s blue eyes.

Sarang replied meekly, “Then I will speak with him. He will listen to me; he listens to me a lot.”

Nathan said nothing, his silence laden with doubt. He released Sarang’s shoulders, his hands cradling the omega’s soft, pearl cheeks.

“I have one request.” Nathan whispered, groaning his voice strained as he watched Sarang’s cheeks flush a delicate pink.

“Yes?” Sarang answered, slightly feverish.

“I know you are very fond of father, but until we’re married, can you not be alone with him? I am not comfortable with it, not because I don’t trust you.”

Sarang pulled away slightly, confusion etched on his face. “Why? Is there something I should know?”

Nathan hesitated, then shook his head. “Forget it. It was an odd request. I’m just worried he’ll try to dissuade you.”

Sarang’s expression softened, his hand brushing Nathan’s cheek. “Nathan, I love you. There is nothing Master could say to change my decision. My heart is yours, as yours is mine.”

Nathan leaned down, kissing him tenderly. “I love you most, my treasure.” he whispered, holding Sarang tightly.

He embraced his fiancé, yet an unsettling fear gnawed at him that he couldn’t shake. Doubt.

As easily as Sarang could dispel Nathan’s anxiety, his own began to pile up during dinner. Facing Lucian now, knowing his master was aware of his relationship with Nathaniel, left him unnerved. Scenarios—some hopeful, others catastrophic—flooded his mind, making his stomach churn and the food taste like ash.

But Lucian never appeared at the dinner table. Sebastian had informed them that Lucian had dismissed himself and was not to be disturbed.

While Sarang’s immediate tension eased, his troubles lingered. The unease followed him to bed, into the restless hours of the night, and even into the early morning, only dissipating when he finally succumbed to a fitful sleep near dawn.

**Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!**

Loud, insistent banging on his bedroom door interrupted his dreamless slumber. Sarang groaned, dragging himself out of bed. Barefoot and bleary-eyed, he shuffled to the door, pulling it open to reveal an unfamiliar manservant dressed in the household’s uniform.

“Oh heavens, are you still asleep?” the man asked, clearly startled by Sarang’s dishevelled appearance.

“I was,” Sarang rasped, his voice rough with sleep. “Until the obnoxious knocking.”

The servant flushed. “My apologies. Master Lucian has summoned everyone downstairs for an important announcement.”

“Give me a moment to look decent.”

“He commanded everyone abandon their duties… NOW. Throw on a housecoat.”

“I’ll be down shortly.”

The servant nodded and hurried off. Sarang slammed the door shut, flopped back on his bed, and screamed into his pillow. With a sigh, he dragged himself up again, muttering curses as he begrudgingly dressed in his housecoat. He was exhausted.

Downstairs, the servants of the estate stood in clusters, whispering and exchanging curious glances. The air buzzed with speculation as they waited for Lucian to appear. Sarang descended the staircase, scanning the room. The servants were much larger than what Sarang was used to at Wynthorpe, with omegas among them. He spotted Nathaniel seated in a corner, sipping tea while flipping through a pamphlet. Choosing not to disturb him, Sarang joined Sebastian instead.

“What are you wearing?” Sebastian questioned, glaring at Sarang’s housecoat.

“I did not have time to change.” Sarang retorted, unbothered by it.

The murmurs stilled as Lucian entered the room and the servants stood at attention. Rising from his seat, Nathaniel joined Sarang at the front. His jaw tightened as he reached for Sarang’s hand, intertwining their fingers in a silent display of defiance. Lucian’s sharp eyes flicked to their joined hands before meeting Sarang’s gaze. The omega quickly lowered his head.

“At ease,” Lucian began, his deep voice commanding the room. “No one is being dismissed.”

A collective sigh of relief rippled through the servants, though they remained poised.

“I have decided that my family will not be returning to Wynthorpe. From now on, we will reside here, in Linfield.”

Since the passing of the grand duchess, Grace Blackwell, Lucian had relocated to Wynthorpe with Nathaniel, only visiting Linfield during business trips. This sudden, permanent move was unexpected.

“That is all,” Lucian concluded. “Return to your duties.”

The servants bowed in unison before dispersing in hushed groups with curiosity bubbling beneath them.

“Sebastian.” Lucian called, and Sebastian inclined his head before stepping forward.

“Father, what is going on? Why are we moving to Linfield?” Nathaniel demanded, marching towards his father on the stairs.

“I do not have to explain myself to you.”

Nathaniel bristled. “I wasn’t asking for an explanation—I’m demanding an answer! Wynthorpe is our home.”

Lucian’s gaze hardened. “Wynthorpe is my country home. Linfield is yours.”

“What does that even mean?” Nathaniel shot back. “I’m your son and heir—my inheritance is tied to you!”

“Your inheritance is tied to your mother’s legacy, not mine. My decision is final. No one is returning to Wynthorpe.” Lucian’s tone softened, but only slightly. “Nathaniel, you are my son and the Blackwell’s family heir. As your father, it was my responsibility to introduce you into society after you came of age. Instead, I sheltered you. Isolated you. You are young and possess a power you will one day command. Remaining in a small village like Wynthorpe does not suit your future. Your education at Oxford wasn’t merely for academic pursuit.”

Lucian’s gaze shifted to Sarang, who instinctively held his breath. “Master,” Sarang whispered, the word barely audible.

Lucian’s eyes lingered on him for a moment before he turned away. “Sebastian,” he said, walking toward the study.

“Yes, Master Lucian,” Sebastian replied, following without hesitation.

Sarang and Nathaniel were left standing in the now-empty hall. Sarang felt the weight of Lucian’s unspoken words settle over him like a heavy cloak.