I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

The sun had been down for a while now, but the royal guest wing still felt less like a palace and more like a very expensive, very tense waiting room.

Cherion leaned his back against the cold stone wall just outside Iryna’s chamber doors, letting out a long breath. While the head physician and his chaotic flurry of assistants filtered back into Iryna’s bedroom for another round of vitals checks, the atmosphere in the royal guest wing only grew more suffocating. Restless, Flio had flatly excused himself from the room, determined to wander the outer corridors for any actual scrap of news regarding the body they had found in the forest.

Cherion, equally weary of staring at the sky outside and feeling the heavy, loud absence of Zarius, decided to follow him out. With Marielle and Elios left behind to keep a quiet watch over the unconscious princess, Reiner and Ezek naturally fell into step behind Cherion as his dutiful attendant and guard, refusing to let Cherion wander the tense halls unescorted.

The small group turned the corner into the wider expanse of the East Gallery. They didn’t get far before he spotted Karson standing ahead. He was in the middle of talking to a pair of guards, his brow furrowed in a tight, serious line as he nodded along to their whispered report.

”Karson!” Flio called as he walked toward him.

Karson looked up at the call, waved the two guards away, and stepped into the center of the gallery to meet them.

”You really shouldn’t be wandering around the public hallways right now,” Karson said. His voice had that deep, disciplined authority that came from living on a training field, but his eyes instantly locked onto Flio, softening just a fraction despite himself.

”We’re just stretching our legs.” Flio replied. ”What’s really happening? Whose body did they find?”

Karson let out a short, quiet sigh, his shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch. ”A maid.”

Cherion stepped up, cutting right through the local gossip. ”Where’s the Duke? Is he still with the King?”

Karson turned to Cherion, a small smile finally touching his lips. It was the kind of reassuring look he usually gave civilians to keep them from panicking. ”Duke Zarius went down to the servant quarters with the princes to oversee the room search. Honestly, Lord Cherion, you don’t need to stress. He’s got half a guard company down there, and the perimeter is solid. Nothing is going to happen to him.”

Flio shifted his weight, his eyes lingering on the wrinkles in Karson’s tunic and the dirt staining the hem. ”You look like a mess. When was the last time you actually sat down?”

”It’s a long day, Flio,” Karson replied softly. ”Don’t worry about the palace mess tonight. Just go back to your chamber. Let us handle the ugly stuff.”

Cherion stood perfectly still between them, his eyes darting from the rigid, upright posture of the Knight Captain to the slight, defensive twitch of Flio’s jaw. The sudden, heavy awkwardness humming between the two of them was thick enough to park a carriage in. Cherion rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a massive wave of second-hand discomfort.

He looked back at Reiner and Ezek, who had suddenly found a very interesting stone pattern on the opposite wall to stare at, completely checking out of the situation. Cherion felt an overwhelming urge to grab them and bolt down the stairs just to get away from the lingering ex-couple energy. Unfortunately, that would only leave him stuck with the supposedly new-couple, if he wasn’t mistaken, energy instead, which wasn’t exactly an improvement.

He really, really missed Zarius.

”Cherion.”

The deep, gravelly rumble cut through the silent gallery like a blunt blade. Cherion snapped his head toward the end of the corridor.

Zarius was walking toward them. His face carried a pale, exhausted tint that he was clearly trying to mask behind his usual stoic expression. Gillian was walking a half-step behind him, looking incredibly tense.

Cherion didn’t care about Karson, the guards, or the fact that they were supposed to be keeping up appearances during an imperial crisis. He crossed the distance between them in three quick strides, stepping right into the solid, heavy warmth of Zarius’s space.

The Duke’s massive arms came around him instantly, pulling him flat against his chest. Zarius buried his face into the side of Cherion’s neck for a brief, heavy second, his chest expanding against Cherion’s ribs before he pulled back just enough to look down at him.

”You’re supposed to be in the chamber,” Zarius murmured, though he didn’t loosen his grip on Cherion’s waist even a little bit.

”And you’re supposed to be resting, but look at us, both breaking the rules,” Cherion replied. He smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from Zarius’s lapels, making sure the reminder carried just loudly enough for Karson to hear. ”Come on. The physician said no overworking yourself, remember?”

The reminder wasn’t really for Zarius. It was for Karson, who was still close enough to hear that the sickly duke was, apparently, being fussed over exactly as he should be

Behind them, Karson immediately straightened his posture, offering a formal, standard nod to the Duke and the Solaric prince. ”Your Grace. Prince Gillian. I take it the investigation in the lower levels is wrapping up?”

Karson hesitated for a second, his sharp eyes scanning the corridor behind them before his brow furrowed slightly. ”If I may ask... where is Prince Yerel?”

Zarius didn’t bother looking away from Cherion, his red eyes keeping a flat, cool distance as he addressed Karson. ”He went back to his private study, I guess.”

”Right. Of course,” Karson said, his voice instantly snapping back into his official, professional aide persona. ”Then I’ll head to His Grace’s study. Have a good rest, Your Highness. Your Grace.”

He gave a formal bow. As he turned toward the staircase, he hesitated almost imperceptibly. His eyes found Flio again, lingering in quiet silence. It wasn’t an angry look or an affectionate one.

It was simply... complicated, as though there were words caught behind his lips that duty refused to let him speak. Then he turned away, disappearing down the dim staircase until the shadows swallowed him from view.