Did he take you?

Elias's fingers curled tighter around the edge of the desk, his pulse hammering against his throat. He wanted to argue, to say something—anything—that would put distance between them again. But the way Cassius looked at him, so calm, so unreadable, as if the kiss had been nothing more than a passing gesture, which made it impossible.

Just what was he supposed to say? That it didn't mean anything? That it had caught him off guard? That it lingered in his mind longer than it should have?

Cassius didn't press him for an answer. Instead, he turned his attention back to the documents before him, as if the moment had never happened. His quill scratched lightly against the parchment, the only sound filling the tense silence between them.

Elias clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus. He was here for his duty, for his work—nothing more. Steeling himself, he straightened his posture and took a careful step forward. "What are your orders for today, Master?" His voice was steady, composed, despite the residual heat still prickling his skin.

Cassius paused mid-stroke, lifting his gaze. His golden eyes studied Elias for a moment before he set his pen down. "You will accompany me to the capital today."

Elias frowned. "The capital?"

"You'll need to learn how to conduct yourself outside of this estate," Cassius explained. "And since you're to serve as my personal valet, there will be times you'll be expected to accompany me in public."

Elias bit the inside of his cheek. He had barely settled into his new role within the manor, and now he was being thrown into the capital, where nobles and officials roamed? Where his every mistake would be under scrutiny?

"Reginald will brief you on etiquette before we leave," Cassius continued, unconcerned by Elias's hesitance. "You're dressed well enough, but mind your composure. I don't need people whispering about why my valet flinches at a simple kiss."

Elias's breath caught. His head snapped up to glare at Cassius, but the man had already turned his attention back to his work, the smirk evident in his voice.

Heat burned at the tips of Elias's ears, and he quickly turned away, biting back the urge to say something reckless. He wouldn't give Cassius the satisfaction.

"I'm not your partner," he said firmly, his voice edged with quiet defiance. "I'm just a simple servant. The master ought not to kiss me—it's below your standards."

Cassius went still. For a fraction of a second, something unreadable flickered behind his golden eyes, barely visible beneath the mask. His fingers tapped against the desk once, a slow, deliberate motion.

Then, he chuckled.

The sound was low, almost amused, but there was an unmistakable sharpness to it. Cassius leaned back slightly, resting his chin on his hand as he regarded Elias with newfound interest.

"Below my standards?" he echoed, his voice silk-smooth but laced with something darker. "And what do you know of my standards, Elias?"

Elias clenched his jaw. He knew Cassius was playing with him, pushing him, waiting to see how far he would go. But he refused to back down.

"A master should not entertain himself with a mere servant," Elias said, keeping his voice steady. "It's improper."

Cassius's smirk grew. He stood, moving toward Elias with slow, purposeful steps. Elias forced himself to remain still, even as his body instinctively wanted to retreat.

"And yet," Cassius mused, stopping just inches away. "You let me, didn't you?"

Elias's breath hitched. His pulse roared in his ears, but he refused to look away.

Cassius tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping to something almost thoughtful. "Tell me, Elias, are you more upset that I kissed you…" He reached out, tracing the edge of Elias's jaw with a single gloved finger. "…or that you didn't hate it?"

Elias jerked back as if burned, his heart pounding violently in his chest.

Cassius simply chuckled again, stepping away as if the exchange had been nothing but an idle conversation. He returned to his desk, picking up his quill without another word, leaving Elias standing there, breathless and shaken.

"Prepare yourself," Cassius said casually, dipping the quill into ink. "We leave for the capital soon."

Elias swallowed hard, his entire body taut with frustration. He had lost this round—but he swore, it wouldn't happen again.

Cassius didn't spare Elias another glance as he waved a hand dismissively. "Go find Reginald. You have much to learn before we reach the capital."

Elias swallowed down the lingering frustration and gave a small bow. "Understood, Master."

He turned swiftly, his fine shoes clicking lightly against the polished floors as he left the study. His heart still pounded in his chest, but he pushed aside the flurry of emotions that Cassius stirred in him. There was no use dwelling on things beyond his control.

For now, he had to find Reginald.

As Elias made his way down the hallway, he kept his head high, maintaining the image he now wore—the fine clothing, the sharp haircut. He could already feel the curious stares from passing servants.

Some whispered among themselves, wondering if he was a noble guest rather than a mere servant.

He didn't let it show, but the attention made his skin crawl.

Just as he turned a corner, he collided with someone hard. The impact sent him stumbling backward, but before he could fall, a strong hand shot out and grasped his arm, steadying him.

His breath hitched as he looked up, only to meet the piercing gaze from Alaric.

Unlike him, Alaric was an alpha—a well-respected one at that. They had spent years in the same household, working side by side, whispering complaints about their duties when no one was listening. But today, as Alaric's sharp eyes raked over him, there was something different.

Elias stiffened under the scrutiny. He knew what it was.

Everyone in the household knew.

No omega had ever spent more than a single night in the master's chamber. And yet, here Elias was—dressed in fine clothes, his hair neatly trimmed, looking nothing like the servant Alaric once knew.

"You look…" Alaric hesitated, his gaze trailing from Elias's face down to the expensive fabric draped over his frame. "Different."

Elias forced a small smile. "The master ordered it."

Alaric's jaw tightened. "Of course he did." His voice was quieter now, unreadable.

There was an unspoken weight in the air. The silence stretched, tense and suffocating.

Then Alaric took a step closer, lowering his voice. "Elias…" His hand hovered at his side, as if he wanted to reach for him but thought better of it. "Tell me… are you still—" He exhaled sharply, his brows furrowing. "Did he take you?"

Elias felt the blood drain from his face.

His fingers clenched around the fine fabric of his sleeve. The words hit like a slap, the question felt too blunt, too raw.

"I—" His throat tightened. "That's none of your concern."

Alaric's expression darkened. His voice dropped even lower, nearly a whisper. "So he did."

Elias flinched.

Alaric didn't look angry. No, the emotion in his eyes was worse—it was hurt. Disbelief. Something bitter curling at the edges of his lips.

Elias swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I have to go," he said, forcing his voice to stay steady. "The master expects me to learn etiquette from Reginald."

Alaric didn't move, but his gaze followed Elias as he turned away.

And just as Elias thought the conversation was over, Alaric spoke again.

"Be careful, Elias." His voice was soft but firm. "Whatever he wants from you… don't let him break you."

Elias hesitated, but he didn't look back. He couldn't.

Because deep down, he wasn't sure if it was already too late.