Part 9

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Was it Cale's imagination or was Ron a bit more menacing than normal?

He'd awoken in the safety and security of the Henituse villa in the capital, his ever reliable butler at his side and ready to assist his every request but there was just this tiny hint of menace to it that sent shivers down Cale's spine.

He hadn't felt like this since that one time he got stabbed in a bar fight and Ron had been there when he'd woken up as well. Somehow this time felt a bit worse though.

Cale normally had absolutely no apprehension of his long term butler, in fact the man was something like a second father figure to him. Or, more accurately, a first father figure as Ron had done far more in raising him than Cale's actual father had done.

It wasn't uncommon, normally nannies and servants spent far more time with the children of nobles than the parents ever did. Cale's case was only a bit more extreme due to his circumstances.

Ron's smile was benign as ever and of course his work didn't suffer in the least, but perhaps it was because Cale had known him for so many years, but he felt like perhaps Ron was agitated.

He didn't ask about it though. For starters, the prospect of his ever-composed butler becoming irate was unnerving. And secondly, it wouldn't suit his persona to go about worrying about others. He had a reputation to maintain.

Still, he didn't make any trouble for Ron as he laid obediently in bed and recovered.

It was a welcome break. His thoughts were chaotic.

According to the knights who rescued him, he'd escaped and run miles through a forest until he reached safety before collapsing.

...so why did he have faint memories of making it only about one mile before he collapsed and was rescued by a mysterious stranger? For that matter... had he bitten him?!

Cale winced at the memory. Apparently the various toxins inside of him had done a number on him after all. Cale had been confident in drinking whatever the kidnappers gave him as his insane metabolism caused most potions, toxins, sleeping agents, and recreational drugs to null. It wasn't that they had no effect on him, the various medicines he'd taken for his insomnia had made him slightly drowsy, but ultimately even heavier toxins had just about as much effect as alcohol did on him.

A faint buzz and flushed cheeks.

They really must have fed him something extreme for him to have lost control so thoroughly. Cale wished he'd thrown at least one more bottle at their damn skulls.

...but who was the man who rescued him?

Cale hid his face in his hands and felt the embarrassment acutely. The man had been all kinds of suspicious and...

...well, he'd also been attractive and wow, was that all it took for him? Cale remembered the man looking strangely similar to the crown prince and found himself questioning if it was all about the face for him. Did he have a very specific type?

"...this is the fucking worst..." Cale groaned, rolling over in his bed and contemplating any possible way of getting out of this reality and entering another one where his life wasn't so mortifying. Or at least, any aspect of it with regards to romance.

"Young master Cale."

Cale peeked out from the pillow he was tempted to scream into, glaring up at his loyal butler. "...what?"

He really wasn't imagining it.That benign smile of his looked like it could cut a man's throat. Cale shuddered at the thought. "You have a guest."

"...tell them to fuck off." Cale grumbled, turning back to his sheets.

There was a beat of hesitation that let Cale know that there was more to it. This wasn't just Eric or another asshole.

"As you wish, young master Cale." Ron said and Cale knew from the tone that he had to ask.

"...who the fuck is it, anyway?"

"His highness the Crown Prince Alberu Crossman." Ron replied without missing a beat and Cale felt ice run down his spine that Ron was about to obey his earlier request.

Well–actually that suited him. He should tell Alberu to fuck off. It would absolutely destroy any remnants of his reputation and–

...dammit. Cale cursed the flopping emotions inside of him that couldn't help but remember the feel of Alberu's hand on his own.

...what was the harm in meeting him just one more time? They'd never talk after this. It would be fine.

"...the fuck does he want?" Cale asked, some of the chaos of his internal thoughts making themselves apparent in his tone.

"It appears that his highness has taken personal responsibility for your abduction." Was there a hint of spite in Ron's voice? Did he also blame the prince? Or was he just angry over other matters? "I've been informed that he searched for you quite ardently last night. If this Ron might offer his conjecture, he's likely here to check on your well-being."

That... was a lot of information to take in.

Cale unconsciously held his blankets protectively, racing mind trying to take it all in and come up with an answer but really his hedonistic brain was taking charge and letting out delighted little sounds at the idea of Alberu personally looking for him–

–dread filled him. No. That man couldn't have been Alberu. He definitely wasn't. How would that make sense? By personally searching, Alberu would have been accompanied by various knights and the appearance was wrong and–but were his memories the ones that were wrong? Had he only thought the colors were wrong in his delirium?

...no, that couldn't be the case, could it?

"...tell him he can come in." Cale said, his voice a bit thin with panic as his thoughts raced.

He'd know when he saw him.

His highness would be here to discuss yesterday regardless. Cale prided himself in his ability to read others. All he'd have to do was look at the prince's face and he'd just know what the truth was.

...right?

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