I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

”The Grand Temple?”

She stood right beside the open carriage door, shading her eyes with a hand as she stared up at the towering white marble arches of the holy grounds. Her brow furrowed into a tight knot, her arms instantly crossing over her chest.

”You dragged me all the way out here for a temple? What for?”

”The High Priest invited us yesterday,” Cherion said smoothly, adjusting the collar of his coat as he took the steps two at a time. ”It would be thoroughly impolite to refuse a holy summons while we’re staying in the capital. Besides, you said you wanted a change of scenery. You can even light a candle and pray while we’re here.”

”I pray enough just trying not to spend all of my gold in the market.” Marielle muttered under her breath, though she fell into step beside Zarius anyway as they walked further to the central sanctuary. ”I was expecting a new restaurant, or at least a nice dessert shop. Not a place where I’m forced to stand up straight and pretend I haven’t cursed five times already today.”

Zarius let out a quiet huff of amusement, his broad hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword as they turned toward the arched gateway. ”Consider it good practice for court, Marielle. At least the priests won’t try to draft a political alliance while you’re standing in the entrance.”

”Don’t give them any ideas,” Marielle grumbled, though her lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smile before she put her bright, polite mask back on.

They walked past the temple gardens, which stretched wide on either side of the path. White roses grew between neatly trimmed hedges, while marble fountains bubbled softly with water from the mountain springs. Pale gravel paths wound beneath ancient cypress trees, keeping the noise of the capital at a comfortable distance.

Before they could wander far along, a young temple attendant dressed in flowing white robes hurried forward from one of the side halls, offering a low, graceful bow.

”May the light bless your path, Your Grace, Lord Cherion, Lady Marielle,” the attendant greeted, his voice soft and reverent. ”His Holiness the High Priest is currently finishing a private morning blessing. He anticipates he will be ready to receive you shortly. If it pleases you, I would be honored to guide you on a short tour while you wait.”

Cherion perked up slightly, taking the excuse for a distraction. He didn’t know this place at all, and wandering through the grand halls sounded infinitely better than standing around in awkward silence under the soaring white ceilings. ”A tour sounds wonderful. Lead the way, please.”

The attendant bowed again and turned, guiding them out of the garden and through a side entrance into the temple’s magnificent interior. As they walked, the young man provided a steady stream of soft-spoken explanations, pointing out centuries-old murals depicting early saints, ancient relic altars set into arched alcoves, and the distinct architectural shifts between the old capital kingdom and the current empire.

So sparkly. So white. So terrifyingly holy, Cherion thought to himself, taking a slow, cautious step over the shiny marble. Ugh. I feel like a sinner just breathing the air in here.

Marielle seemed mildly distracted, her gaze drifting toward the high stained-glass windows, while Zarius walked a half-step behind Cherion, his hands tucked into his coat pockets, keeping his usual quiet, vigilant watch over them both.

Eventually, the attendant led them through a heavy archway into a relatively smaller side chapel tucked away in the eastern wing of the temple compound.

This chapel somehow felt more intimate and grounded. The walls were made of rough stone, with sunlight filtering through the narrow windows and falling across rows of small candles. A single altar rested at the far end of the narrow room, surrounded by quiet rows of simple pews.

”I will check on His Holiness’s progress,” the attendant murmured with another polite dip of his head before stepping back out into the corridor, leaving the three of them alone in the flickering candlelight.

Marielle walked toward a row of candles near the altar, tilting her head to read an inscription carved into the stone wall. Cherion stepped closer to a low stone balustrade, running his thumb over the rough edge of the granite as he took in the quiet, peaceful atmosphere of the smaller room.

A soft rustle of fabric sounded behind him.

Cherion didn’t even have time to turn before a broad, warm presence closed in right at his back. Zarius leaned in close, his shadow stretching across the stone floor, his voice dropping into a low, quiet murmur right against the shell of Cherion’s ear.

”Can’t believe we got back in here again,” Zarius said softly, his deep voice carrying a subtle note Cherion couldn’t quite place. ”Under completely different circumstances this time.”

Cherion’s breath hitched in his throat.

”Yes...” Cherion managed to reply, keeping his voice steady even as his thoughts began running in every possible direction.

Wait, Cherion’s internal voice screamed, his heart hammering violently against his ribs. Back in here again? What does he mean ”again”? Did Zarius and the OG Cherion come to this chapel before? When? Under what circumstances?! Was it a secret meeting? A political deal? A private promise?!

A cold sweat broke out along the back of Cherion’s neck as the terrifying realization washed over him. If Zarius was remembering a specific, private memory tied to this exact room, a memory Cherion had no way of knowing...

No, he didn’t fear Zarius finding out the truth. He had already resolved that he would tell Zarius about his transmigration eventually. But moments like this were a sharp reminder of the wall still standing between them.

Damn it, Cherion thought, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the stone balustrade tighter. I really need to sit him down and talk about all of this the second we get back.

Cherion slowly turned his head, expecting to catch a smirk, a nostalgic glint, or a sharp, questioning look in Zarius’s eyes.

Instead, Zarius stared straight ahead, his jaw set, not a hint of emotion crossing his face.

Cherion wanted to ask so badly, but he decided to keep his mouth shut.

For now.