I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

”It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Cherion! I’m Reiner Holden, your new attendant!”

The introduction didn’t just break the silence in Zarius’s study, it was like throwing a rock through the window, shattering it, and then standing there awkwardly wondering if anyone would notice. The energy radiating from the figure in the doorway was so profoundly bright, so intensely cheerful, that it felt practically radioactive.

Cherion, still slightly sluggish from his three-day unintended sabbatical in the land of dreams, blinked several times, half-expecting his retinas to start smoking. Standing there was a young man who looked as though he had been accidentally birthed by a stray sunbeam that had somehow survived the oppressive Northern winter.

Valtrane’s usual color palette was something like ”midnight sadness” and ”post-apocalyptic gloom,” but then this guy walked in wearing a cream-colored waistcoat that looked like it cost more than Cherion’s entire wardrobe, and a sunflower-yellow scarf that could’ve gotten him kicked out of any funeral. His honey-blonde hair was basically saying, ”Yeah, I’m here to shake things up,” and his amber eyes were practically glowing with the kind of enthusiasm Cherion hadn’t seen since... well, before he got dragged into this messy world.

Flio stood awkwardly behind the boy, no, the man, though the distinction felt thin. He cleared his throat. ”My Lord,” Flio began, his voice strained, ”this is Reiner. He is my blood. My younger brother.” He gave Reiner’s shoulder a light tap like he was trying to remind himself he wasn’t just dragging this guy into a situation. ”He will be your new attendant and I guarantee you that nothing like that will happen again.” He paused, glancing back and forth between Cherion and Zarius like he was trying to see their reactions.

The subtext was clear. Flio was putting his own head on the chopping block here. By bringing his brother in, he was staking his honor, his lineage, and Reiner’s very life on a silent vow: there would be no repeat of the previous incident. No more betrayals. No more snakes in the grass.

Cherion watched Reiner bounce on the balls of his feet. The kid’s hands were moving in tiny, frantic gestures as he began a rapid-fire monologue about how he’d already drafted a three-stage plan to reorganize Cherion’s wardrobe. Apparently, the current state of his tunics was a ”humanitarian crisis” that required immediate intervention.

Okay, Cherion thought, leaning back into his chair and taking a long, slow sip of tea to hide his amusement. He’s Flio’s brother. That’s a solid 10/10 for loyalty. But let’s be real... it’s a 2/10 for my privacy.

Still, despite the fact that the guy looked like a golden retriever in human form, Cherion reminded himself that trust was a luxury he couldn’t just hand out like candy. Not after what psycho Soren tried to do him in. He needed to keep his guard up, even against someone who smelled faintly of lemon cakes and optimism.

”It’s good to meet you, Reiner,” Cherion said, managed a polite, slightly tired smile.

Reiner didn’t just bow; he performed a flourish that would have made a court jester jealous. ”The honor is entirely mine, Lord Cherion! I am here to ensure your absolute safety and, more importantly, your comfort. I shall be your shield, your shadow, and your stylist!” He straightened up, his eyes twinkling with a sudden, mischievous glint. ”And I shall protect you from all bothersome elements... even the Duke, should you find him particularly tiresome now and then.”

The air in the room suddenly turned cold. Not the ”Northern winter” cold, but the ”Duke Zarius is about to explode” cold.

Zarius, who’d been sitting beside Cherion the whole time, looked like he’d just been slapped in the face with a soggy tissue. His brow furrowed into a deep, terrifying V. A low, vibrating growl started in the back of his throat, a sound that usually sent grown knights running for cover.

Cherion couldn’t help it. He let out a sharp, genuine bark of laughter. The sheer audacity of this honey-blonde ball of sunshine teasing the most feared man in the territory was nothing short of legendary.

But Reiner wasn’t done. He tilted his head, looking at Zarius with a touch of innocent concern that was far more lethal than any insult. ”Oh, please don’t frown so much, Your Grace! Truly. If you keep making that face, those ’angry old man’ lines will invade your whole handsome face permanently. And we can’t have that, can we? Such a waste of a good jawline.”

Flio looked like he wanted to sink into the floor and join the castle’s ancient foundation. He made a strangled noise, hands twitching like he was debating whether to stuff his brother’s mouth with his own hands. He stepped forward, fidgeting like a guy trying to hold a dog back from jumping on a guest, whispering frantic, half-panic words into Reiner’s ear.

Reiner just blinked at him, his amber eyes wide and full of terrifyingly pure innocence. ”What? It’s just advice, Flio! Skincare is a virtue.”

Zarius slowly closed his eyes, chest heaving as he took a breath so slow it was practically a meditation exercise. He looked like a guy trying to figure out the social consequences of tossing his subordinate’s brother out a window, preferably from a very high floor. His jaw was clenched so tight that Cherion half-expected him to start grinding his teeth into dust. It was the most defeat Cherion had seen from the Duke since the whole ”poison incident” fiasco, and yet, strangely... he actually seemed normal for once.

Ha, Cherion thought, a slow smirk spreading across his face as he watched Zarius rub his temples. Maybe I actually like this kid.

Cherion pushed himself up from the couch, the soft creak of the cushions breaking the tension in the room. Reiner and Flio were still in the middle of their chaotic back-and-forth, Reiner’s hands flailing with wild enthusiasm while Flio tried his hardest to calm his brother down.

Cherion started walking toward them and the moment Reiner spotted him from the corner of his eye, he froze, his hand still suspended in the air like an awkward traffic signal. Flio, who’d been trying to back away discreetly, whipped around so fast that his foot slipped.

He raised his hand with a laid-back smile, like he was stepping in to break up a street fight between toddlers.

”I think we’re going to get along just fine, Reiner.”