017

Lucian rested in bed, the soft rustle of papers filling the room when the doors creaked open. Sarang peeked in, his lips forming a cute pout.

“Master, can I come in? I made you food.” Sarang said, his voice tinged with concern.

Lucian glanced up and nodded.

Pushing the door open with his shoulder, Sarang waltzed into the room carrying a tray. He approached the bed and presented it to Lucian, who set the papers aside.

“It’s ginseng chicken noddle soup.” Sarang explained, rubbing his shoulder nervously. “I heard you weren’t feeling well. Did the doctor come?”

“Yes.”

Sarang fidgeted with his fingers, his brows knitting in worry. “It’s not serious, right? Are you going to get better? I’ve never seen you bedridden–not even from a fever.”

Lucian chuckled, placing a warm hand on Sarang’s hair with a reassuring smile. “You have nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine. The doctor said I overexerted myself and need some rest.”

Sarang relaxed, his shoulders dropping as he offered a bright smile. He settled beside Lucian. “Eat before it gets cold.”

Lucian smiled back and lifted a spoonful of broth to his lips. The flavourful spice burst into his tongue, and he let out a low moan of appreciation as Sarang gleamed in contentment.

“The chicken is so delicious, and the flesh is tender.” Lucian said, his tone light and teasing. “Your cooking is a cure to my ailment–my vigour is returning.” He flexed his right arm dramatically.

Sarang laughed, shaking his head. “You needn’t be sick to taste my cooking; You can request it anytime. Master.”

“It won’t taste the same if I expect it.” Lucian said, his voice softening with fondness. “This reminds me of how much you’ve grown—not just in skill, but in age and character.”

Sarang blushed faintly. “I have you to thank for that. You would chase me around whenever Min came over to teach me about my culture, and then lecture me on the importance of valuing one’s heritage.”

“You never listened to me.” Lucian countered with nostalgic smile. “When you got into trouble, you would pretend you couldn’t understand English–until I raised my ruler. Miraculously, flawless English would flow out of your mouth, complete with puppy eyes.”

Sarang grinned, his laughter spilling out. “Or the time you got me a cat.”

“You never stopped crying when it left until it returned home.”

“I still cry when I think of him.”

“I was tired of his name.”

“Purr-cian was perfect.” Sarang said defensively. “Young master Nathaniel said it was lovely.”

“Nathaniel agrees with everything you say.”

“What should I have named him then?”

“Rip Couch.” Lucian said flatly.

Sarang burst into laughter, clapping a hand over his mouth as his eyes watered with amusement. “I thought he was forgiven!”

“Not when he was dishonouring my name with his claws.” Lucian said dryly.

“But he loved you most.” Sarang said, a gentle warmth in his tone.

“Because I picked him from a cardboard box before the rain did.” Lucian resumed eating and Sarang smiled.

“I’ve missed this.” Sarang’s voice was quieter now. “What happened to us… aside that night?” His cheeks flushed as he massaged his knees nervously.

Lucian paused, his gaze steady on Sarang as he swallowed the last bit of food. He set his spoon down and spoke with calm deliberation. “You weren’t comfortable around me. I did not want to make you uneasy around especially in front of Nathaniel–if you’re avoiding me.”

Sarang breath trembled. “I-I’m not avoiding you.” I just feel a little… self-aware of my actions.”

“Nathaniel saw me this morning,” Lucian continued as Sarang’s breath hitched. “He must have told you I was unwell, but you didn’t come dashing in. I heard you two explored the city. How was it?”

Sarang exhaled softly, his body relaxing. “Today was my first pleasant experience in the capital. It is cleaner and friendlier with guards that patrol the streets. I even saw some omegas strolling without any chaperones. The parks were lovely, too—families everywhere. New mothers and fathers with their babies were heartwarming to witness, I was almost jealous.”

Lucian finished the broth. He placed the empty bowl on the tray and turned to Sarang, who was smiling ear to ear.

“Sarang,” Lucian called, his voice low and gentle.

“Yes, Master?” Sarang met his gaze, his interest piqued.

“Do you want a family? A husband, children to fill your home?”

Sarang gulped, his heart skipping at the question. He pondered for a moment before nodding. “All omegas dream of marrying the person they love and having plenty of children.”

“What about you? Do you want it?”

“I…” Sarang paused, “I crave companionship too and desire to have children… someday.”

“What if–”

“Please, let’s drop this discussion, Master,” Sarang interrupted, his voice trembling. “I’m not young enough to meet random alphas, and if I marry as a slave—educated or not—a strange alpha would never love me. He’d feel entitled to me because he bought my freedom.”

“I am sorry. You have never shown interest in marriage since your coming of age. Bringing it up... I–” Lucian stopped abruptly and handed Sarang the tray. “Will you make me another bowl tomorrow?”

Sarang frowned slightly but took the tray, his smile returning as he rose. “Until you feel better. Excuse me.”

He bowed and left the room with his thoughts swirling as he returned the tray to the kitchen. Once alone in his quarters, Sarang locked the door behind him and sat on the bed, holding the engagement ring around his neck.

Nathaniel had proposed to him. He had been ecstatic, overjoyed—but now, as Lucian’s words replayed in his mind, uncertainty gnawed at him. Why did his heart waver when Lucian asked about marriage? He couldn’t get cold feet now. He loved Nathan, he wanted to be with him, to call him husband but…

Sarang’s fingers brushed the collar on his neck.

For three days, Lucian was confined to bed. Official affairs requiring his approval were shifted to Nathaniel, leaving him in what he deemed a luxurious prison. Sarang’s cooking and cheery conversations soothed his mood, while Nathaniel’s reports offered some relief from the tedium because Sebastian, with his no-nonsense demeanor, refused to indulge Lucian's complaints.

When the fourth day arrived, Lucian was finally granted freedom eagerly accepted Nathaniel’s invitation for a father-son game of croquet.

“I never knew a day would come when I’d miss the outdoors.” Lucian remarked, gripping his mallet and inhaling deeply. “Father, it was three days.” Nathaniel stated.

“Hmm, too long. I should sack someone to lift my mood.”

“Terrible joke.”

“Retirement?” Lucian teased, glancing at Sebastian.

Sebastian raised a brow. “I will not be retiring anytime soon, Master Lucian. I have a very long life ahead of me.” Sebastian said and Lucian snorted, shaking his head.

Nathaniel hit the ball past the hoop and spoke. “What would we do without you, Sebastian?”

“Almost nothing,” Sebastian replied. “If you require anything more, I shall be nearby.” With a bow, he left them to their game.

Nathaniel and Lucian continued, with Nathaniel maintaining a narrow lead. As they played, Nathaniel casually broke the silence.

“Father, when did you realise mother was the one?”

Lucian took his turn, sending the ball smoothly through the hoop. “You asked me this when you were younger, and I said–”

“You married mother because she was the only woman who was very compatible with you.” Nathaniel quoted out of habit. “But when did you know you loved her?”

Lucian chuckled, his gaze drifting to the clouds. “Sebastian, old as he is, once nearly got his wish to pass on. You were barely a year old then. I was in despair but your mother, she held down the fort. When she saw I’d resigned myself to his loss, she scolded me, her eyes filled with angry tears. She promised me he would live—and somehow, I believed her. That’s when I knew I was loved.”

Nathaniel paused, mid-swing, his expression softening. “I didn’t know. You don’t talk about mother often.”

“Does this line of questioning involve your mother?” Lucian asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

Nathaniel missed his shot. “No.”

“I rarely spoke about Grace because I didn’t want you to feel her absence and notice my shortcoming as both your father and mother. And I certainly never wanted another woman to replace your mother.”

Nathaniel gaze softened. “You did a wonderful job. Mother would be proud.”

Lucian smiled faintly, stepping up to his next shot. Nathaniel took a breath and spoke with new resolve. “I’ve found someone.”

“A wife? Congratulations. Who is she?” Lucian asked with joy.

“A husband, actually. He’s someone you know. Someone I know you’ll love.”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Nathaniel.” Lucian said, focusing on his aim.

“It’s Sarang. I’ve asked for his hand in marriage.” Nathaniel confessed with sheer happiness.

Lucian’s mallet struck the ball, sending it veering wildly off-course. He whipped his head toward his son, dropping the mallet. The joy drained from Nathaniel’s face as Lucian’s expression darkened.

“No.”

“Father, what–”

“Anyone but Sarang.” Lucian snapped.

“Why? You adore him and his status is of no importance to you so why are you against our union?”

“I will not give Sarang to you. End of discussion.”

Nathaniel’s voice sharpened. “If it was anyone else?”

“My answer would be the same. No.”

Nathaniel’s jaw tightened. “I’ve already proposed, Father. He agreed. We love each other.”

“Nathaniel,” Lucian’s dark eyes turned a piercing red, his voice low and dangerous. “No.”

Nathaniel met his gaze without flinching, his own amber eyes glowing crimson, canines elongating as he stood tall. “Give me one good reason. You educated Sarang, protected him, respect him. If it’s not prejudice, then—” Nathaniel faltered, realization dawning. After his return from Oxford, his father’s affection towards Sarang has been anything but parental.

Nathaniel wasn’t a fool. “Do you love him, Father?”

Lucian froze, his silence deafening. He turned abruptly and strode away, refusing to answer.

“Father!” Nathaniel called after him. “I love Sarang! And I won’t let any alpha take him from me—not even you!”

Lucian stopped, his silhouette rigid with an air of arrogance. Without turning, he replied, cold and dismissive. “We shall see.”