Chapter 67

Three days later, in the pale, shivering dawn, Elwin sat on the train station platform, his expression tight with anxiety. While the departure remained hours away, he had arrived early, fueled by the desperate certainty that he could not miss this train.

Winter had clawed its way closer in the span of a few short days, and a desolate, biting wind whistled along the tracks. As Elwin pulled his coat collar high against his neck and drew in the frigid air, a sudden, sharp unease surged within him.

When his heat had first manifested and forced them to shelter in this city, he had intended to weather the one day and depart immediately thereafter. Instead, they had been delayed. He told himself it was unavoidable. Unavoidable… was it?

Elwin and Leon had spent three full days confined within that inn room. They had tangled together with frantic intensity, drifted into sleep from sheer exhaustion, only to wake and meet each other’s eyes—a gaze that inevitably ignited a hunger that drove them back into one another’s arms without surcease.

Even last night, they had laid down with the firm intention of sleeping, only for Elwin to snap back to reality and find them entwined, Leon’s tongue tracing the roof of his mouth. Only after Elwin had belatedly regained his composure and insisted they absolutely had to catch the morning train did they finally yield to sleep.

It felt profoundly strange that his heat had endured so much longer than his usual cycles, especially given that he had spent the duration with an Alpha. Leon, after all, had not even been in a cycle of his own. Can alphas do that even when they aren’t in cycle? How could he…

Elwin had yet to realize that his biological cycle had been little more than an excuse—a convenient trigger for his own desires. From the midway point onward, he had simply run wild, driven by the fact that he liked Leon far too much.

Even more absurd was the realization that the moment he remembered Leon, who had bitten and suckled at him for three days without a hint of fatigue, the embers Elwin thought he had successfully banked began flaring up in his heart once more.

Muttering, “I must truly have gone completely mad,” he cleared his throat into the empty air. His hoarse voice immediately began stinging with merciless intensity.

“Oh dear. Is your throat acting up again?”

Just then, the very man responsible for the predicament spotted Elwin coughing and hurried over at a near run. In his hands, he carried a plain flask and a paper bag.

“The local dining stall just opened. Not much was prepared, but I chose what I could. Try the warm tea first, Elwin.”

His voice carried a tenderness that made Elwin fear someone else might overhear and be similarly bewitched. He lowered his head to hide the heat threatening to flush his features and accepted the flask of milk tea.

“Thank you, Leon.”

At some point, the two of them had abandoned formal titles, opting to address one another by name alone. Perhaps it was unsophisticated to shift their behavior so drastically merely because they had shared a bed, but the impulse was undeniable; there was nothing to be done about it.

Every time Leon spoke his name, Elwin felt a thrill so potent it made the tips of his toes tingle. Judging by the radiant smile Leon offered, he seemed to be in much the same state.

“The meat pie will likely be better to eat around the afternoon. Would you like a scone? Are you not hungry?”

Leon fussed over Elwin with an effortless, natural care. He had been like this for three days straight. After every round of frantic intimacy, Elwin would collapse into a sleep bordering on a faint, and while he slumbered, Leon would move about diligently, washing him, feeding him, and tending to his every need.

He had fetched fresh linens and food from the innkeeper, and at times he had returned with the scent of cold air clinging to him, as if he had braved the elements to attend to some errand. Throughout it all, Elwin’s only contribution had been to lie quietly, swaddled in blankets.

As a scion of a noble house, Elwin was accustomed to being served, but the fact that his caretaker was Leon left him terribly embarrassed and immeasurably happy. Even so, he could not suppress a sudden, sharp self-reproach that clouded his joy, questioning if this was truly the time for such indulgences.

“I’m fine. More importantly, I’m worried about whether the train will depart on time.”

Elwin craned his neck to scan the locomotive waiting on the tracks. Black, oily steam billowed toward the sky, and crew members moved about the train—evidently conducting checks—suggesting a pending departure. Yet, too much time had elapsed since the train’s arrival without an boarding announcement, and the silence chafed at his nerves.

He does not seem capable of it, but then again, he might have been lucky enough to meet another fool like me.

As Elwin sank into the mire of self-reproach, Leon read his expression, sat beside him on the bench, and offered comfort in a bright, steady voice.

“Don’t worry, Elwin. You have me, don’t you?”

Completely forgetting that in the past, he had frequently clicked his tongue at Leon, wondering how the man could say something so irritating every time he opened his mouth, Elwin was struck by a different thought: How can he speak so beautifully?

“That’s true. Having you by my side is a great emotional comfort.”

Elwin spoke with total sincerity. He had rarely, if ever, leaned his heart on another person. The realization that Leon’s mere presence could brighten his entire world felt both strange and profoundly pleasing.

He had expected Leon to glow at those shy words, but Leon only offered a faint, strained smile, and for some reason, the corners of his mouth seemed to droop.

After a moment of hesitation, Leon spoke with measured care. “Um… the truth is, my support extends beyond mere emotional comfort. I have also exerted considerable effort in more practical matters—various behind-the-scenes preparations, though detailing them precisely proves difficult.”

At this, Elwin tilted his head, his mind drifting into contemplation. While Leon had certainly proven invaluable throughout their journey, what specific contribution could warrant such a pointed admission? Had he perhaps dispatched agents ahead to the capital? The thought struck Elwin that this man was, after all, the scion of a family wealthy enough to maintain a literal maze within their private garden.

The relentless cascade of recent events had forced Elwin to shelve his curiosity regarding Leon’s true identity. Now, as he glanced at his companion, wondering if the capital would finally unveil the mystery, he found Leon wearing a peculiar expression. Leon sat with his chest puffed out as if daring Elwin to place his absolute faith in him, yet a trace of hesitation flickered in his gaze, and his cheeks were tinged with a faint, telltale flush. Seeing this for the first time, Elwin narrowed his eyes, studying him with newfound scrutiny.

Is he… boasting? And is he genuinely mortified by it?

Leon’s attire was consistently garish, draped in flamboyant patterns and bedecked with jewels, and his humor often leaned toward the frivolous. Yet, in truth, he was not the type to engage in idle braggadocio. Elwin sensed that this ostentatious exterior was less a display and more a carefully constructed artifice. Leon frequently feigned a lack of gravity to mask a deep-seated dignity and seriousness. For such a man to swallow his embarrassment and deliberately sing his own praises suggested something quite specific.

Could he be attempting to court my favor?

The moment the thought crossed his mind, Elwin found Leon’s complex expression utterly endearing. Human sentiment was a truly enigmatic thing; Elwin considered himself entirely immune to such vanity, and when Dwight had performed similar displays in the past, he had found them entirely insufferable. Yet, inexplicably, Leon’s behavior seemed nothing short of precious.

Elwin was on the verge of adjusting his glasses to inspect Leon’s expression with greater precision when a piercing whistle cut through the air.

“It seems we are cleared to board.”

Leon stood, the tips of his ears flushed a vibrant crimson. Preparations for departure were clearly complete, as a station attendant now waved a flag, directing the throngs of passengers toward the train. Elwin gathered his belongings, his face set in a mask of grim resolve.

“The trip to the capital will take more than six hours, will it not? We should utilize the time to formulate our next course of action.”

Alas, his firm resolve proved fleeting. No sooner had the locomotive lurched away from the station than Elwin began to drift, eventually surrendering to slumber against Leon’s shoulder. Over the past three days, Leon had hoisted, turned, and rearranged him so frequently that his physical reserves were utterly depleted. Added to the strain of an early wake-up call, he had managed to remain upright on the platform only through sheer force of will.

Throughout the lengthy transit, Elwin existed in a haze of intermittent sleep, vaguely aware of accepting water and nourishment offered by Leon’s hand. He could not gauge the passage of time, but as a cacophonous whistle echoed once more, he blinked his eyes open to find the carriage teeming with frantic, departing travelers.

“…Do not tell me we have arrived already?”

At Elwin’s disoriented inquiry, Leon gently guided his head toward the support of a cushion before rising from his seat.