4

One by one, Silas packed his things into the bag, startled when the door to his room opened without a knock.

"What are you doing, Silas?"

His father's eyes were fixed on him as he continued to pack.

His father added, "You really don't need to bring so many clothes. The Grand Duke said that Lord Alric has already prepared plenty for you. You could go there without bringing anything, but if you still want to bring them, leave them for now. I'll take them tomorrow."

"You will bring them tomorrow?"

"Yes, hurry up. The car to pick you up has already arrived."

"Car?"

"Yes, a car. Why do you look so surprised?"

"Ugh, I thought a carriage was coming... I... I've never been in a car before, so I'm a bit..."

"Haha."

His father laughed, walking over to Silas and gently squeezing his shoulder. "Get used to it, that's going to be your routine, Silas. You should be grateful to me, huh, haha... You know, car production is still very limited, and even if I sold three of my biggest hotel buildings, I couldn't afford one. And I suppose I should also thank you because the Grand Duke gave me a car as a gift for the deal."

"A gift?" Silas' eyes widened as he asked in astonishment, "Didn't you used to say that it looked like witchcraft and you preferred carriages over cars? You were so negative about cars and their mysterious qualities—"

"Haha, Silas, that was when I didn't know how a car works. All new things deserve a skeptical mind, don't you agree?"

Silas looked at his father, who was still laughing, and decided to follow him out. Sure enough, there was a black car with a driver who opened the door as soon as he saw Silas.

He got in, his heart pounding. This was his first time in a car, and when the vehicle started moving, Silas felt like his heart was about to leap out of his chest. His hands unconsciously gripped the seat. It was a bit embarrassing because everything was going smoothly, and it was much faster to reach the Wittenheim mansion compared to the carriage, which would have taken quite a while.

As he got out of the car, his heart raced again with a mix of emotions. The tall gate with intricate carvings, the vast grounds perfect for horseback riding, the paths leading into the dense forest, and the beautiful plants that decorated every view.

And he was sure his heart stopped for a fraction of a second when he heard the Grand Duke welcoming him at the entrance of the mansion.

"Welcome."

The words were spoken in a monotone voice, and the expression on his face was not one that could be described as friendly; it was cold. Silas, who stared at his face and then lowered his gaze, thought about how much the Grand Duke's face resembled Alric's—of course, it was clear since they were father and son. However, the pale, icy blue eyes truly gave him chills, and it only took less than a second for the Grand Duke to glance at him when he instructed his father's family to enter. After that, the Grand Duke didn't look at Silas even for just a glance, as though he wasn't even present at the dinner table.

A family that despised omega—it wasn't surprising to see such a reaction. He should have expected this. Even when he sat down, no one greeted him. The Grand Duchess didn't say even a word, and the only people speaking at the table were his father and the Grand Duke.

Silas, who had picked up his steak knife and fork, accidentally gripped them too hard, loosening his grip after a moment. He tried to calm himself, ensuring his face remained calm and neutral, not letting on that he was offended. After all, what right did he have as an omega to feel insulted by this treatment? He was just an omega, so he needed to be self-aware.

Now, he focused on the way he ate, trying as carefully as possible to avoid making noise on the glass plate. But for some reason, he felt a chill running from the top of his head. He had been looking down for so long that he hadn't noticed the man sitting across from him. Considering how large the dining room was and how wide the table was, Silas had been so absorbed in looking down that he had forgotten to observe his surroundings—until he lifted his head and saw someone who nearly made him got a heart attack.

Today, his heart had been tested multiple times.

His knife almost slipped from his hand, but he quickly gripped it tightly again.

Alric's eyes fell on him—those familiar crystalline, eerie blue eyes that seemed almost transparent. His neatly combed hair and clothes that clearly accentuated his broad, firm shoulders.

"....."

He didn't say anything, but his gaze didn't leave Silas.

Lowering his gaze, Silas almost jumped in surprise when the man finally spoke.

"Do you want some shrimp?"

Silas hesitated to make eye contact but quickly glanced at his plate. He might have misheard; perhaps the man was speaking to someone else, who was sitting right next to him. So, Silas carefully cut into his steak.

"Silas."

"??????"

That was his name being called. It was definitely his name—Silas—coming from the lips of the man sitting across from him.

"Yes, sir?"

Damn it, how do you address the son of a duke? Sir? My Lord? Your grace? Your highness? He had forgotten all the formalities, and Silas mentally tugged at his hair. He bit the inside of his cheek. What was he supposed to do now?

Fortunately, Alric spoke again and repeated his earlier question.

"Silas, do you want some shrimp?"

"Shrimp?"

"You'll definitely like it. So go ahead, move your plate a little closer so I can give it to you."

"Huh?"

It seemed like Silas's confused expression was clear enough that Alric briefly shifted his gaze, then furrowed his brows.

Silas blinked for a moment, looking at the man whose aura was so different from the one he had known when they were in school.

Alric cleared his throat, leaned slightly out of his seat, and placed several shrimp on Silas's plate, making Silas's gaze follow the shrimp before looking back at Alric, who sat down again as if nothing had happened.

A nudge on his thigh from his father, who sat beside him, immediately reminded Silas where he was and that he shouldn't be acting like this. He corrected his posture and lowered his head.

"Thank you, Your Highness."

Fuck. He cursed inwardly, just realizing the proper way to address the Grand Duke's son. What did he just say? Sir? Sir! He was so embarrassed that he almost prayed for the earth to swallow him up and take him away from there.

"You don't have to address me so formally. Besides, you'll be my wife."

Ugh—his food got stuck in the throat, and he struggled to swallow. This made him quickly grab a glass of water, trying his best to drink it while maintaining his manner. Damn it, could the food just go down already! He fought the urge to cough, knowing it would be rude to do so at the dinner table. So, with a smile masking the pain in his chest, Silas chose not to say anything, even though he was utterly bewildered.