* * *
The snow continued to fall gently all day, showing no signs of stopping.
It had piled so high that it reached Nael’s ankles, and he stayed mostly inside his bedroom.
Thanks to Killian, he was learning to write more comfortably, and he diligently did the homework Killian assigned—short writing exercises or reading thin books.
He was slow, but he was earnest.
And he was always so happy when Killian patted his head and praised him for it.
What’s more, he was never alone.
When Killian was away, John or Ren would keep him company.
He had no time for dark thoughts or loneliness, kept busy with their presence.
“I feel so cooped up… I want to go outside for a bit.”
“You haven’t received permission.”
“Master’s just worried about me, that’s all.”
Nael wiped the ink-stained fingers on a damp cloth.
He still wasn’t used to holding a pen, and every time he wrote, he’d end up with ink smudged all over his palms.
Ren took the cloth from him and gently cleaned between each finger.
Nael, smiling quietly, held his hand out obediently.
“Even if you say that to me, I can’t help you. I don’t think His Grace’s concern is unfounded.”
“A little breeze won’t break my bones…”
“But you could trip over a rock and scrape your knee.”
That wasn’t even an exaggeration.
Nael had no response to that level of overprotection—especially after everything that had happened.
All those events, crashing into his life like a storm, had never happened in the south.
Disappointment flickered in his green eyes as he turned toward the window.
The difference in temperature between inside and out had fogged up the glass so much, he could hardly see through it.
He rubbed it with his hand, only to find it damp against his skin.
“Huh?”
Before it fogged up again, something outside caught his eye.
Nael quickly wiped the window with both hands.
A long procession of carriages was entering the castle grounds.
Usually, when retainers came and went, it was in single carriages—but he had never seen such a long convoy before.
The Baron.
Nael swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.
“Ren.”
Ren glanced out the window, hesitated, and gave no reply.
He gave a small shrug as if pretending not to know, but the grim look on his face said otherwise.
“It’s the Baron, isn’t it?”
Even through the blurred landscape, the carriages were glaringly extravagant—completely out of place in a snowy field.
Nael couldn’t tear his eyes away, as if something unseen was tugging at him.
Philip stepped forward and opened the grandest carriage door.
The figure inside slowly emerged.
Nael’s words caught in his throat.
He froze.
Golden hair, the same color as his, peeked out from under a fur hat that looked as though it were made of silver thread.
They were adorned with items that would have been completely useless in the southern lifestyle—but each one was expensive, chosen for show.
The person stepped down carefully, holding Philip’s hand, and looked up—meeting Nael’s gaze directly.
Nael flinched and stepped away from the window.
After a brief exchange with Philip, the Baron entered the main building.
Nael cautiously placed his damp hand against the glass.
The Baron was no longer in sight, but his body felt as if it had turned to ice, as if a blizzard were raging inside him.
“Let me dry your hand,” Ren said softly.
Ren’s expression was unreadable as he wiped Nael’s hands with a dry towel.
His slightly furrowed brow and the polite but stiff upturn of his lips clashed awkwardly, making Nael even more uneasy.
“May I go to the office?”
“Now?”
“Yes. If His Lordship permits it.”
“…Nael.”
Before Ren could say more, Aiden entered.
The sharp clatter of the sword at his waist pierced the air.
“His Grace the Grand Duke said he won’t be joining you for meals. And he ordered you not to leave the bedroom, so don’t.”
“Sir Aiden. If His Lordship is perhaps—”
“He’ll come at night.”
“Ah, yes.”
Color returned to Nael’s face.
But only briefly.
Even the light book Ren had brought for reading practice failed to hold his attention.
Sighs kept escaping him.
The bedroom door had been locked from the outside when Ren left, and until it opened again, Nael had no choice but to wait inside, motionless.
This, too, was Killian’s order.
“Will he send me away again?”
No, we agreed to go together.
Don’t think nonsense.
But his pounding heart spoke differently from his mind.
Nael hugged the book tightly.
Clink, clink.
The sharp sound of metal called to him.
The key was turning in the lock!
Nael shot up, and the book tumbled to the floor, crumpling messily.
“My lord.”
Killian, his long hair cascading down, picked up the fallen book.
“Was it boring? You could’ve asked for another.”
“It’s not that.”
I dropped it because I was startled by your arrival.
His lips quivered faintly, weighed with worry.
Shadows pooled deeply in the hollows beneath Killian’s sharp brows.
Had he been overworked?
Without thinking, Nael reached up to touch and smooth the lines under Killian’s eyes.
“Are you seducing me?”
Killian chuckled faintly and pulled Nael closer by the waist.
“N-Not at all! Are you troubled? Did the baron upset you?”
“The baron is far beneath me. Yet you raise him higher.”
“No, I just… I was worried.”
Instead of answering, Killian pressed his lips to the rounded curve of Nael’s forehead.
“Hng…”
Even that light touch set Nael’s skin aflame, his face flushing.
As if responding to his soft whimper, damp lips trailed down, pressing firmly over his eyelids.
Nael’s golden lashes fluttered.
Anticipation of what was to come tangled with fear—fear that those lips would lick his pupils again—leaving him dazed.
He couldn’t relax his tightly shut eyes, and then Killian’s long hair draped over him like a slow-falling curtain.
“My lord?”
Nael called to him, green eyes glimmering.
Killian’s thumb traced Nael’s lips slowly, memorizing their shape with fluid strokes.
Unable to resist the impulse, Nael took Killian’s finger into his mouth.
Around Killian, he became shameless without realizing it.
“Little pervert.”
“Mmph—ah!”
“You look so innocent, yet you seduce me without hesitation.”
“Hnn…”
“I’ll have to indulge you.”
Killian gripped Nael’s hair and tilted his head back, forcing his lips free with a wet sound.
“Eek!”
Killian covered Nael’s parted lips—now stretched wide around the width of a finger—with his own.
The quiet bedroom filled with slick, rhythmic sounds.
Killian angled his head, sealing their mouths together, giving Nael no room to breathe as he pushed deeper.
A strong arm hooked under Nael’s waist, lifting him slightly until his legs hovered above the thick carpet.
The chastity cage grew painfully tight.
“Hah…!”
A thin moan slipped between their joined lips.
Even as Killian’s tongue ravaged his mouth, Nael obediently followed his lead, their tongues tangling hungrily.
Desire burned unmistakably in the way Nael wrapped his arms around Killian’s neck.
Ah, yes—
A sharp throb pulsed low in his stomach.
With his erection trapped, he’d likely come crushed and restrained.
Saliva dripped from the corner of Nael’s mouth.
Just as his breath grew short and his face flushed crimson, Killian pulled away.
“Haah…”
With just a single kiss, Nael had melted completely, his body slack as he gazed up at Killian.
Killian settled Nael onto his lap.
“Shall we practice your reading?”
Killian occasionally enjoyed teasing him.
Nael nodded slowly, then undressed in front of Killian.
Not that there was much to remove—just a nightgown.
* * *
