Chapter 55

Why. Am. I. Here.

Lino’s slender legs dangled limply over the sofa’s armrest, swinging aimlessly in an unconscious rhythm. Finally giving voice to the complaints he had been muttering internally, he blurted out, “Why exactly…?” Once the seal was broken, his suppressed frustration erupted. “Why the hell am I the one locked up?!”

Springing from the sofa, he bolted to the refrigerator and chugged a bottle of cold water to douse the fire raging in his chest. Without stopping for a breath, he drained it, crushed the plastic in his grip, and hurled it at the trash can. Unlike his tangled emotions, the mangled bottle landed with a clean thud.

“Who could possibly understand the minds of nobles? I’m only hurting myself by getting angry.”

Rubbing his hollow, underfed stomach, Lino pulled the refrigerator door open again to reveal shelves packed with colorful desserts. The freezer offered the exact same view. After a long moment of contemplation, he pulled out the nearest box and returned to the table.

“I really… don’t know what they expect me to do.”

Opening the box, he stared at his hands, then at the plate inside, and released a heavy sigh.

A mound of red powder rested neatly on the dish—shaved crystals of eternal snow infused with chino-berry juice and sprinkled with dry nuts, or so he had been told. Another box held rich, beige ice cream made from the milk of a blizzard cow. Grondil’s low voice, explaining the sweets, echoed persistently in his ears. Seeing that a dessert spoon was thoughtfully included in the box, the tight knot in Lino’s chest began to loosen. 

Did he prepare this because he knew Yuneria tampered with my tableware? 

Yuneria’s little display of hostility hadn’t posed any real threat. He had actually dropped his sword the moment Enoch bellowed at him. Lino found himself surprised all over again; he knew Yuneria’s skills were abysmal, but he never expected the man to lose his grip on his weapon from a single shout.

Enoch’s intervention had swiftly ended Yuneria’s one-sided threat show. As they were summoned to the Duke’s office, Lino had firmly believed the instigator would face severe reprimands. Instead, the Duke had coddled Yuneria, soothing his agitation rather than scolding him. He had even turned on Lino, demanding to know why he had provoked the man.

Right, nobles protecting their own… I can understand that. I can, Lino thought bitterly. But why am I the one slapped with an indefinite confinement?!

“Sir Cliff, you are confined to your quarters until I instruct otherwise.”

The memory of Grondil’s freezing command made the knot in his chest pull taut once more. Yuneria had excused himself, claiming he had much to prepare for the night, leaving Lino entirely alone with Grondil in a suffocatingly awkward office. Or, at least, Lino had thought it was awkward. The moment Yuneria left, Grondil had plastered himself against Lino’s side, whispering in a sickeningly sweet voice:

“Is your stomach upset? Is the food not to your liking? Tell me whatever you want to eat. I’ll have Erin make you something… Just rest in your room. If you need books, tell Enoch.”

It was a whiplash-inducing shift from the man who had just coldly confined him. Too bewildered to even ask about the sudden change in mood, Lino had been ushered into his room. Then came the unmistakable click of the door locking from the outside.

He was highly sensitive to confinement. Being locked in by someone else dredged up sickening memories of his time at Baron Haklan’s estate. While he hadn’t suffered severe physical abuse there, being stripped of his freedom felt like being a fish in a bowl slowly drying out day by day. He hadn’t planned on leaving the room anyway, but becoming an actual prisoner was a different story.

Not long after, the lock clicked open, revealing Erin pushing a cart laden with food boxes. She left her contact information, telling him to reach out whenever he wanted more, and the door firmly locked behind her again.

Yuneria is the one who messed up, so aren’t I the victim here? 

He had been degraded as a male whore, grabbed by the collar, nearly clawed in the face, and then assaulted with a sword. It hadn’t been life-threatening, but he was undeniably the victim. So why was he receiving the reprimand and the confinement?

Is this what they call keeping someone on the hook?

“Oh, shit. Now I’m just having shitty thoughts,” Lino muttered, slapping his own cheek with a sharp smack! that left his palm and face stinging.

Gurgle.

Amidst the suffocating frustration and a barrage of garbage thoughts, his stomach roared its fury. It had remained silent at the sight of a well-cooked steak, but the desserts were demanding to be devoured.

“Yeah, hook or whatever, let’s just eat.”

He needed his strength if he was going to plan an escape from this indefinite imprisonment, whether that meant taking revenge on Yuneria or fleeing the Duke’s little aquarium. He mixed the fruit into the fermented milk and took a generous bite. The rich, tart, and sweet flavor instantly spiked his appetite, easily becoming the best thing he had eaten recently.

Something… is missing.

It was delicious, but a crucial element seemed absent. Blinking at the ice cream, Lino realized what it was: Green. That incredibly potent green liquor Grondil had been drinking straight without chasers. He missed that bitter wash cutting through the lingering sweetness on his tongue. With sweetness piled upon sweetness, he was sick of it after a few bites.

It’s because of the liquor. That green liquor. 

Muttering his excuse aloud, he shoved the half-eaten ice cream back into the refrigerator. But a quiet question gnawed at him: Would the liquor really be enough? 

No.

To replicate the taste from Erin’s restaurant, he needed one more thing. He needed the Beast pouring the drinks beside him. He needed the Duke bringing the spoon to his lips, urging him to eat. That confusing, overbearing Beast who blurred the line between kindness and malice. Even with the green liquor, Lino knew the flavor wouldn’t be the same. If that Beast had been locked in here with him, he wouldn’t be feeling this stifling anger. In fact, he wouldn’t have even realized he was confined. He would have completely forgotten about the locked door while mindlessly fucking the Beast.

***