* * *
The servants always took care of cleaning up the places they tumbled together.
Of course, Sylvian never remembered any of it, as he would always fall asleep as if fainting.
Sylvian panicked at the thought of others finding out.
“If they knew, they’d only shake their heads at the duchess’s depravity.”
Zeroth feigned ignorance and continued rolling Sylvian’s nipples between his fingers.
“Hng! Ah!”
“Are you hard?”
“Yes! Hic! I’m—ah!—going to, ngh! Piss—ah, ah, hic!”
He had no idea how things had come to this, but no matter how much he wanted to escape, his body had already been thoroughly trained by Zeroth.
A mere kiss could make him hard, and just the slightest touch to his chest sent him trembling with the urge to release.
Had he gotten too immersed in his own role?
That thought crossed his mind, but it didn’t change the way his body reacted helplessly to Zeroth’s touch.
“Ah!”
“If you wet yourself in the carriage, everyone will be shocked.”
Hearing that his dignity as the duchess was at stake, Sylvian turned his head toward Zeroth with teary eyes.
“Help me… please.”
“Help you hold it in?”
“Yes, hng. Hic.”
Sylvian clung tightly to Zeroth’s clothes, his body trembling.
He was desperately trying to hold back, but Zeroth’s hands didn’t stop playing with his chest, and slick pre-fluid began to seep out against his will.
“I’ll block the front hole for you.”
Gasp.
His trousers were yanked down in an instant, pooling around his thighs.
The sudden exposure to cool air made Sylvian’s cock twitch violently.
Zeroth calmly wiped away the pre-cum dripping from Sylvian’s swollen length with a handkerchief.
“The coachman might hear you. Can you keep quiet?”
Sylvian nodded frantically, his tear-filled eyes wide with desperation.
Seeing that, Zeroth shoved the damp handkerchief into his mouth.
“Mmph!”
“Shh. You’ll only come when I allow it. Understood?”
“Mnngh! Hic!”
Sylvian wanted to spit out the handkerchief, now soaked with the taste of salt and musk, but the urgent need below took priority.
He nodded desperately.
Just as he felt like he was about to burst, something cool touched his overstimulated length, then began pushing inside.
“Ahk! Ngh!”
“Stay still, or you might get hurt.”
The cold, invading sensation sent a wave of fear through him, making it impossible to lower his gaze.
Zeroth chuckled at Sylvian’s reaction—eyes tightly shut, fingers gripping his arm like a lifeline.
A thin, rigid rod was being inserted into his hardened length.
Since it was his first time, Zeroth had chosen the slimmest one.
Each time he applied pressure with his index finger, the rod sank deeper into Sylvian’s body.
“I prepared this just for you. You keep leaking everywhere, so I had no choice but to take action.”
Bastard… this complete bastard!
Sylvian clung to Zeroth, seeking some semblance of security as his body trembled.
A catheter.
He’d heard about them before—how they hurt at first, but eventually even the pain could turn into pleasure.
But experiencing it himself was something else entirely.
His hands were already drenched in sweat.
“Hnnngh!”
“It’s almost in. It won’t hurt. And I’ll make sure no one finds out.”
He had no idea how much time passed.
His body had gone limp, his moans turning into weak whimpers.
A soft kiss landed on his cheek.
“Ahh!”
“Oops. That was close—you almost wet yourself.”
The moment the slender rod pressed against a place it shouldn’t, his release was blocked entirely.
“Uugh! Nghh!”
Tears streamed down Sylvian’s face as his stomach convulsed, his body instinctively jerking with the urge to let go.
Zeroth swallowed his laughter.
Before the urine could escape, the rod sealed off the passage entirely with a thin, flat end, completely plugging his tip.
“There, all set.”
Zeroth toyed with Sylvian’s swollen, red member, watching his teary, pitiful expression with amusement.
“Ahh… it hurts…”
Sylvian finally managed to spit out the soaked handkerchief, which fell to the floor with a wet plop, though neither of them paid it any mind.
“Fortunately, I stopped you before you had an accident. You did well holding it in. We wouldn’t want any embarrassment during dinner, now would we?”
At his gentle words, Sylvian nodded frantically, though his aching, painfully engorged member begged for relief.
“I’ll remove it once we’re back in our room. You can hold on until then, can’t you?”
“Mnngh… yes.”
Zeroth placed a kiss on Sylvian’s lips before wiping his tear-streaked face with another clean cloth.
He then fixed his clothes and dressed him properly.
By then, the carriage had arrived at the Duke’s estate.
Sylvian tried to stand, but the foreign object lodged inside him made him hesitate.
“Hic…”
“If you hold onto me, no one will notice.”
Even with his trousers back on, his arousal was painfully obvious, the bulge straining against the fabric.
With no other choice, Sylvian buried his face in Zeroth’s chest.
When the carriage door opened, the servants bowed their heads as the Duke stepped out—his wife held securely in his arms.
The Duchess seemed to be suppressing a whimper, but the servants pretended not to notice.
“This is… really good.”
Sylvian murmured, his eyes still slightly puffy from crying.
The restaurant they had come to, recommended by another noblewoman, turned out to be excellent.
He had been put through something thoroughly embarrassing in the bath before they left, but at least he had made it to dinner.
Even now, he lacked the strength to sit on his own and remained nestled in Zeroth’s embrace.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Zeroth sipped his wine, glancing at the still-red corners of Sylvian’s eyes.
He wanted to make him cry a little more, but skipping dinner would put him in a gloomy mood for days.
Besides, the ship was ready.
The rest could continue there.
“I’ve never had fish prepared like this before.”
“Neither have I.”
“Really? Even you, Zeroth?”
Rather than fried or grilled, the dish had been steamed.
There was something familiar and comforting about it, making Sylvian eat more than usual.
“I heard Holt’s son is coming soon.”
“Is that so?”
Zeroth was well aware of Sylvian’s keen interest in other male omegas.
Whether it was simple curiosity or a sense of kinship, he wasn’t sure.
But he could tell Sylvian harbored a kind of vague admiration for them.
The Countess Holt had mentioned that she, too, felt a sense of protectiveness toward the boy.
“Can I invite him when he arrives in the capital?”
“Of course. The Countess would be pleased.”
Sylvian’s face lit up with delight.
Seeing him cry was a pleasure, but seeing him smile like this was equally satisfying.
The son of Count Holt…
Zeroth had never seen him before.
The youngest of the Holt family, much like Sylvian, was a male omega.
He had never debuted in high society due to his frail health.
“But Countess Holt said he’s gotten much stronger now.”
The novel merely stated that the Duke had fallen for him at first sight, so Sylvian didn’t know much about his past.
If he resembled his mother, he would probably have a warm, gentle presence.
What was it like to meet someone as radiant as sunlight?
“Have you met him before, Zeroth?”
“No, I don’t recall being introduced.”
“He originally wanted to be an administrator, but after training hard, he got into the knight academy instead.”
As soon as his health improved, he had started building his strength.
Countess Holt had told Sylvian so herself.
It made sense that Zeroth would fall in love at first sight.
He was the main love interest, so he was bound to be more beautiful than anyone else.
Sylvian imagined himself being discarded by next week.
The annex was spacious enough—he could manage.
He just had to be kind to Yuri and make sure not to cling to Zeroth, who was already keeping his distance.
“Does it not suit your taste?”
“What? No! It’s delicious!”
Zeroth glanced at Sylvian’s fork, which was slowing down.
His expression had already darkened again, lost in thought.
“Did you want to attend the academy?”
“If I had recovered a little sooner… do you think I could have gotten in?”
“Sylvian, you’re smart. I’m sure you would’ve passed. You might have even joined the student council.”
Zeroth clicked his tongue inwardly as he tried to comfort Sylvian, who was upset over something he couldn’t change.
* * *
