* * *
Killian pulled Nael onto his lap, letting him straddle his thighs.
He ran his hands over Nael’s body, sharing warmth so he wouldn’t feel cold outside the blankets.
Nael rubbed their chests together subtly, secretly hoping they’d move to the next step.
Killian smirked, stroking the smooth skin devoid of any muscle.
Especially when he touched the back of Nael’s knees, Nael shivered uncontrollably.
Trapped inside the chastity device, Nael’s swollen length strained against the tight confinement, crumpled and suffocating.
Nael dug his nails into Killian’s firm biceps.
It felt even tighter than when he was bound or when the urethral plug was inserted.
Nael pressed a light kiss to Killian’s prominent Adam’s apple.
A faint vibration hummed against his lips as Killian’s throat bobbed heavily.
“Nael.”
Whenever Killian’s lips called his name, Nael’s heart raced.
Thump-thump.
His pulse quickened.
Nael trailed his lips down Killian’s scars.
“It must’ve hurt…”
“Who knows? I’ve fought so many battles I don’t even remember when or how I got these.”
“Norman gave you that ointment that leaves no scars, right? Did you use it?”
“Hah. I’m not the only one who gets hurt, Nael. Norman has others to care for too. We shouldn’t bother him. On the battlefield, every second counts—some stand at the crossroads of life and death.”
Nael traced Killian’s scars regretfully.
“These are nothing. There were plenty of times I had to jump back into battle before my wounds even healed. As long as you can still hold a sword, no one gets special treatment there.”
Killian’s calm tone made Nael’s heart ache.
He hated how Killian treated it all as inevitable.
“Don’t get hurt.”
Killian’s eyebrows rose.
Then, he gave Nael’s backside a light pat, making him jolt.
“Eek!”
“Be good and keep it on.”
Whether it was because Nael’s sincerity had reached him or not, John finally entered the bedroom late in the afternoon, just as the red sun was slipping behind the horizon.
Even though the door was open, his hesitant steps moved slowly—like a turtle.
“John?”
Nael, recognizing him first, jumped up as if he’d been sprung.
There were still visible burn marks on John’s forehead and the backs of his hands.
They weren’t severe, but they were enough to mar his otherwise clean-cut face.
The burned areas were especially red, making them stand out.
Seeing him, a flicker of resentment toward Edward surfaced in Nael’s heart.
“John…”
“Nael. It doesn’t hurt. I’m okay. Thanks to His Grace the Archduke, I received treatment I never would’ve even dreamed of.”
You know back at the baron’s estate, right?
Even if we were sick, we just had to grit our teeth and endure.
Remember that servant who ran into the burning stables to try to put out the fire?
He got horribly burned and was thrown out just like that.
You remember?
Thankfully, all the horses inside the stables were rescued.
That was because John didn’t give up—he pushed himself to the end.
His father, the stablemaster, had gone to a nearby village for a few days to buy supplies at the time.
Everyone felt sorry for him.
When they saw his disfigured face and the way one arm hung uselessly, they pitied him.
But the Baron?
He just barked at anyone who showed even a hint of sympathy, saying if they had a problem, they could leave with him.
No one dared defy the Baron’s decision.
The biggest reason?
If you left the estate without a letter of recommendation, surviving out there was nearly impossible.
John let out a hollow laugh.
“I’m not going south anyway. When I’m in warm places, my injuries sting—it makes it hard to endure the southern weather. You haven’t forgotten how hot it got in the summer, have you? Norman said it’ll take a long time before I’m fully healed. So, I’ve decided to stay in the north until then. His Grace has given his permission, too.”
John spoke casually, but only one part echoed in Nael’s ears—he was planning to go south with Killian in the spring, and had naturally assumed John would come along.
It never occurred to him otherwise.
Edward, of course, was an exception—since the Baron and Baroness were coming, it was only right he went with them.
“I thought you’d be coming south with me.”
“Only for a little while. I’ll stay here for now.”
“But it’s cold here…”
It was cold—and when it snowed all day, the skies were more often a dull gray than a brilliant blue.
Killian’s room was always warm with a roaring fireplace, but John’s room wouldn’t be the same.
John had a valid reason for staying, of course.
The weather.
And yet, Nael couldn’t help but feel sad about his choice to remain.
“Oh, don’t get the wrong idea, Nael. His Grace even included my letters when you sent yours. He’s a truly kind man. I’m sure my father would understand too. And honestly… I think I’ve grown used to this place. It’s not like I’m sensitive to the heat or anything.”
“Mm.”
“Nael, you know… Ah, saying it out loud is a little embarrassing. But actually, there’s a woman.”
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, clearly flustered.
“A woman?”
Nael stared blankly as John let out a stilted, awkward laugh—ha, ha, ha—one syllable at a time.
He blinked slowly, like it took him a moment to process it.
Then it finally hit him—this was a good thing.
And Nael immediately grabbed John’s hands with both of his.
It was good news. John had found a place—and someone—to belong to.
That was something to be grateful for.
Nael smiled warmly and offered his heartfelt congratulations.
And when he learned that Killian had even gifted the couple a small house to live in, he was even more surprised.
He’d thought Killian was the type to be indifferent to others’ affairs, but now… now he realized the man was watching over even those around Nael.
His heart swelled at the thought.
Yes, Killian sometimes locked a chastity belt on him and could be frightening—but deep down, Nael believed he must be a kind man.
He was strict and sometimes scary with punishments, but still, he took care of those around Nael.
He had even saved John.
He was a benefactor to his oldest friend—Nael had to be better for that alone.
With that thought, Nael smiled softly, thinking of Killian.
“Nael, the Baron should be arriving soon. Are you going to be okay? I heard it might be today or tomorrow.”
John looked worried as he searched Nael’s face.
Regardless of the situation, the Baron was Nael’s father—his blood.
With Nael’s gentle nature, it was hard to imagine him standing up to someone like that.
John would keep quiet about Edward’s condition, as Ren had strongly insisted, but he still worried for Nael.
Back at the manor, it was common knowledge that Nael was often whipped by the Baron in the stables.
There was rarely a proper reason.
Even for minor mistakes, the Baron had always treated Nael harshly.
The Baroness was no better. In their presence, Nael always seemed to shrink.
Back then, he had endured it for Lily’s sake—but now, she was so far away.
Even though the Grand Duke wouldn’t tolerate a single hair being harmed on Nael’s head, John didn’t want Nael’s heart to be wounded before anyone else could step in.
Seeing Edward like a walking corpse… there was no way the Baron would take that lightly.
John’s brows knit tighter with worry. Would the backlash fall on Nael?
“Wouldn’t it be better to tell His Grace?”
“…”
Nael understood what John was hinting at.
But he wasn’t alone anymore.
He was no longer someone with no one to protect him.
He didn’t have to tiptoe around the Baron.
And he no longer believed the Baron would take him away.
“I have my master now. So they won’t treat me like before.”
If he had to name the strongest shield in the world, Nael would say it was Killian—without hesitation.
Even though he still controlled him, and at times made life hard, there was a quiet trust that had taken root.
Seeing the firmness in Nael’s expression, John finally relaxed and nodded.
* * *
