Reincarnated as the Villain's Butler

Chapter 11

A/N: Welcome back everyone! I've been very busy as always so I ask for your understanding for the large gaps between chapters. I've been trying my best, but it's been difficult;;;

As a thank you for your continued patience and support, please accept this drawing of younger Altair's infamous manipulation smile. ^^ (Do not be fooled! This child will happily murder you!)

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"How have you been cousin?"

With brows pinched and arms crossed over his chest, Scorpius sat across Orion. He was perched defiantly atop his velvet couch while Altair— bright, warm, kind Altair— retreated to his side.

Scorpius snarled, his hatred unhidden. "Don't talk to me like that, Goldie."

Orion didn't bat an eye at the nickname, nor at his cousin's usual attitude. There were many reasons he always wanted to avoid his cousin so badly, but now none of it mattered— as long as he saw him and got some sort of closure for his frazzled mind... he would be satisfied.

If only he would let him, of course.

"Why not?" Orion replied in a chipper, yet with a condescending undertone. Despite his seemingly patient attitude, internally he was anything but. "Is there something wrong with talking to my dear cousin?"

"Considering you've been fine with ignoring me all this time, it would be delightful if you kept minding your own business," Scorpius retorted back with a glare.

"Hah, you're the same as ever."

"And you've become much more sly."

"I guess you can say that," he replied simply.

"Drop the act. Why did you come here? I know for a fact it isn't for me."

He was right. It wasn't.

Orion fell silent for a moment, his gaze glancing over to the one responsible— Altair. Despite the tenseness of the room, he remained composed beside Scorpius— his master— who radiated hostility in pummeling waves. It was a stark contrast to the maid sweating profusely in the corner of the room, but his calmness did not ease him, rather the contrary. Orion could not tell what he was thinking in the slightest, with his face devoid of emotions and veiled in calm professionalism, so different from what he remembered. He wouldn't even spare him a glance for him to form even a semblance of what lay behind those golden eyes. He couldn't help but think it was like he was a different person entirely.

Orion was not naive to what the Black Dogs were. They were extravagant and elite status symbols, and it pained him to see that Altair practically embodied that idea now. His neat but fluffed-up curls, a deep black that would show a subtle hue of reds and browns under the sunlight and would bounce along with his movements, was now swept back in a fixed, sleek fashion. His smiles which had softened his bold features were now gone, his intensity more pronounced than ever before. It was only further highlighted by the uniform, which despite its simplicity was far from modest, as it was clearly made and detailed with high quality materials down to the very buttons of his waistcoat.

Perhaps it was unavoidable with his occupation, but looked much sharper. Older.

"Surely you must have a reason, right?" Scorpius continued mockingly with narrowed eyes, "I wouldn't imagine you would come here with your own two feet otherwise."

"I guess you can say that," Orion said almost dismissively. "But I don't need to tell you now do I?" He glanced back to Altair once more, still hoping to catch at least his gaze again. It had been far away, but Altair had smiled at him at his arrival, just like before. He knew. He had to. He didn't forget him. Then why—?