I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

The corridors of the royal wing were suffocatingly quiet, a stark contrast to the absolute bedlam that had gripped the palace last night.

Flio and Elios walked side by side. Outside, they maintained the disciplined posture expected of Duke Zarius’s closest subordinates. Inside, however, the boiling tension was finally starting to crack their carefully constructed composure.

Elios was the first to break the silence, his voice a low, fierce hiss that barely carried past Flio’s shoulder.

”I still can’t believe the absolute nerve of these capital nobles,” Elios muttered, his fingers twitching instinctively near the hidden hilts of his daggers. He shook his head, a scowl marring his sharp features. ”Do you hear what they’re whispering out there? The absolute nonsense flying around the banquet halls? They are actually trying to say Lord Cherion is the mastermind behind this entire tragedy. Lord Cherion!”

Flio kept his eyes straight ahead, his hands folded neatly behind his back as he maintained a calm, measured stride. ”People fear what they do not understand, Elios. And right now, the capital is desperate for a scapegoat.”

”But it’s not just him!” Elios pressed, his frustration mounting as he threw his hands up in a rare display of exasperation. ”Now they’re trying to drag Marielle into it too! Claiming she was lurking near refreshment table before the drink was poured. It’s completely ridiculous. Anyone with half a brain can see that the North has absolutely nothing to gain from assassinating Princess Iryna. It’s a transparent, pathetic frame-job.”

”Which is precisely why we cannot afford to lose our tempers,” Flio replied, his tone smooth, level, and entirely grounding. He glanced sideways at his companion, offering a small, reassuring nod. ”Let them whisper. For now, we focus entirely on what we can control. Our duty right now is to keep a vigilant eye on everyone and everything. We watch the perimeter, we track the guard rotations, and above all, we ensure absolutely no one tries to sneak into our quarters to plant fake evidence or shift the blame onto the Duke. If we keep their hands tied, their little rumors will die out.”

Elios let out a long, heavy breath, his shoulders dropping slightly as he forced his rigid muscles to relax. ”Yeah. You’re right. It’s just infuriating watching them play these pathetic mind games while the Princess almost died.”

As they rounded the corner into the grand eastern gallery, the sound of approaching footsteps cut their conversation short. Walking from the opposite direction was a familiar figure.

It was Karson. His eyes shadowed with fatigue, though his posture remained strictly professional.

The two parties slowed their pace as they converged in the center of the wide hallway. Despite the immense political friction between the capital and the North, the basic rules of etiquette still applied.

”Sir Flio. Sir Elios,” Karson greeted them, offering a polite, measured nod of his head.

”Sir Karson,” Flio responded smoothly, returning the gesture with a flawless, perfectly diplomatic smile.

Elios, however, merely offered a tight, brief nod. He could practically feel the heavy, awkward atmosphere settling over the corridor like a thick fog. He leaned closer to Flio, muttering under his breath in a quick, dismissive whisper, ”I should probably head out and check the lower courtyard. No need for me to play the third wheel to a political chat.”

”Stay,” Flio murmured back, his lips barely moving as he caught the edge of Elios’s sleeve, keeping his friend firmly by his side.

Turning his full, pleasant attention back to Karson, Flio adjusted the cuffs of his tunic. ”You look incredibly busy. I imagine the investigation into last night’s terrifying incident is keeping the Crown Prince’s jurisdiction entirely occupied. Tell me, have you found any definitive leads or developments yet?”

Karson let out a faint, controlled sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in a brief moment of human vulnerability before his professional mask snapped back into place. ”Not yet, to be completely honest. Nothing suspicious has been found in the banquet hall or from the guests. It’s an absolute standstill.”

Elios couldn’t help but let out a quiet, mocking scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. ”I bet the Crown Prince is absolutely frustrated by the lack of development.”

Karson’s expression tightened just a fraction at the jab, but he kept his composure, knowing better than to start an argument with the Northern Duke’s elite retainers. ”His Highness simply wants justice. The pressure from the council is immense.”

”Of course, we entirely understand the gravity of the situation,” Flio intervened smoothly, stepping in to brush past Elios’s sharp comment before it could cause a scene. He offered Karson another polite smile, his tone dripping with effortless courtesy. ”We can only hope the truth comes to light soon, for everyone’s sake. We won’t take up any more of your valuable time, Sir Karson. Good luck with the investigation.”

With a final, elegant nod, Flio signaled to Elios that it was time to move on. The two Northern men began to step past the aide, their eyes already scanning the long corridor ahead as they prepared to resume their patrol.

They had only taken three steps when Karson’s voice rang out behind them, unexpectedly sharp and clear against the stone walls.

”Wait,” Karson called out.

Flio and Elios stopped dead in their tracks. They exchanged a swift, highly alert glance before slowly turning back around to face Yerel’s aide.

Karson stood in the center of the hallway, his hands resting heavily on his utility belt. He looked at the two Northern retainers, his eyes shifting with a complex, desperate gravity that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He took a slow, heavy breath, as if weighing the massive consequences of the words about to leave his mouth.

But then, Karson’s jaw tightened. He swallowed whatever words had been burning in his throat, his posture snapping rigidly back into a cold, professional demeanor.

”No,” Karson voiced quietly, looking away as he brushed a hand over his face. ”It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Without giving them a chance to question him, Karson pivoted sharply and began walking briskly down the corridor, his heavy boots echoing loudly against the stone walls until he vanished around the far corner.

Elios stared at the empty hallway for a long moment, completely bewildered by the bizarre interaction. He slowly turned his head to look at Flio, only to find the usually unflappable mastermind standing entirely still, his calm eyes tracking the empty space where Karson had just stood, his jaw faintly set.

A knowing smirk slowly spread across Elios’s face. He casually nudged Flio’s shoulder with his elbow, breaking the heavy tension with a low, mocking whisper.

”Well,” Elios muttered as they finally resumed their walk. ”Your ex-lover is weird.”