chapter 3

The generals mansion 

As Nori stepped into the grand estate, his breath caught in his throat. His wide, innocent eyes darted across the vast entrance hall, drinking in the towering wooden beams, the intricate gold-inlaid panels, and the soft flicker of lantern light casting long, trembling shadows against the walls. The air was thick with the scent of sandalwood and aged parchment, a fragrance foreign yet strangely intoxicating.

His small hands curled at his sides, his fingertips brushing against the silk of his robe as if grounding himself. Everything was so large—too large. The high ceilings loomed above him like the sky itself, and the silence, heavy and undisturbed, made his heartbeat thunder in his ears. His gaze swept over the dark hallways stretching into unknown corners, their secrets hidden in the folds of darkness.

A shiver ran down his spine. This was nothing like home.

His father's estate, though elegant, had always felt warm, full of bustling voices and the soft laughter of his brothers. But here—this place was suffocating in its grandeur, as if each carefully placed object was meant to remind intruders of the power that resided within these walls. And at the center of it all stood the General.

Nori's gaze finally fell upon the imposing figure waiting for him. His breath hitched. His world, once so small and safe, had just grown dangerously vast.

Nori barely had a moment to process his surroundings before a pair of silent servants appeared at his side. Their movements were efficient, impersonal—hands ghosting over the delicate ties of his robe, loosening fabric before he could even protest. His breath stuttered as cool air kissed his bare skin, and he flinched, his fingers instinctively grasping at the silk slipping from his shoulders.

It was useless.

The layers of his clothing pooled at his feet, leaving him exposed in the dim candlelight. His face burned with shame, his arms trembling as he fought the urge to cover himself. But the servants paid him no mind. They simply took his discarded garments and folded them neatly, as if undressing strangers was just another mundane task in their routine.

One of them—a woman with a blank, unreadable expression—gestured toward the bed. He hesitated, his throat tight, but his body moved on its own, driven more by obedience than understanding. The bedding was soft, far softer than what he was used to, yet it felt suffocating as he pulled the covers over himself, his body curling into itself.

The room was vast and unfamiliar, its silence pressing against him like a heavy weight. He turned his face into the pillow, eyes wide, unblinking. Somewhere beyond these walls, the General still lingered, and tomorrow… tomorrow his father would arrive.

A cold dread settled in his stomach.

What had he done?

The Yuki estate was in utter disarray. Servants scurried through the halls, their hushed voices sharp with panic, while guards scoured every corner of the property, lanterns swinging wildly as they searched.

"Nori-sama! Nori-sama!" The calls rang through the night, growing more desperate with every passing moment.

Inside the main hall, the Yuki family head sat stiffly, his fingers clenched around the armrest of his chair. His face was pale, his normally composed demeanor wavering as his eldest son kneeled before him, his expression grim.

"Father, we've searched everywhere—he's gone."

The words sent a fresh wave of cold terror through him. Gone? His youngest? His Nori?

Then, the doors burst open. A lone messenger stumbled inside, his forehead glistening with sweat, his breath ragged from the urgency of his journey.

"The—The General…" He struggled to speak, clutching his chest. "The General has summoned you. He requests your presence at his estate at first light."

The room fell into stunned silence.

The Yuki family head's grip tightened, his knuckles turning white. He did not need to ask why. He already knew.

Nori had gone to the city. And now, he was in his hands.

He swallowed back the rising panic and closed his eyes, murmuring a silent prayer.

"Prepare the carriage," he commanded, his voice unwavering despite the fear twisting inside him. "We leave at dawn."

As the household erupted into motion once more, the only thing he could do was pray—that his son was still untouched, unharmed. And that he had not made a mistake that could never be undone.

Morning arrived too soon.

Nori was roused by the quiet rustling of servants, their presence a cold reminder that this was not a dream—he was still here, in his house. Before he could gather his thoughts, gentle but firm hands pulled the covers away, exposing his small, trembling frame to the crisp morning air.

"Come," one of the attendants said softly, motioning toward the adjoining chamber where steam drifted from a large, ornate bath.

He hesitated, but resistance was futile. The servants undressed him without ceremony, his skin prickling with embarrassment as warm water enveloped his body. Their touch was impersonal yet meticulous, scrubbing away the remnants of yesterday as if preparing him for display.

Once bathed, they clothed him—not in the familiar, modest garments of his household, but in something foreign. The silk was impossibly soft against his skin, flowing over his frame like water, yet it clung in a way that made him feel bare. The robes, though elegant, left his collarbones and slender throat exposed, the fabric teasing just over the edge of his shoulders. He looked at his reflection in the polished bronze mirror, his fair skin glowing against the rich colors.

He looked… delicate. Like a doll.

Before he could fully grasp what was happening, they led him to the grand hall. His steps were light, almost uncertain, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Then, he saw him.

The General sat at the head of the room, his dark robes pooling around his broad frame, his gaze sharp and unreadable. But there was something else in his eyes as they traced over Nori's form—something slow, something heavy.

Nori swallowed, his throat tightening under the weight of that stare.

"You wear fine silk well." The General's voice was smooth, amused. "Almost as if you were born to."

Nori lowered his gaze, fingers curling into the fabric at his sides. He didn't know how to respond—if he even should respond.

The General hummed, as if enjoying his discomfort. "Do you know why your father is coming?"

He did.

But the words wouldn't come.

The General chuckled softly. "No answer? You truly are as docile as they say."

Nori flinched at that, but the man's eyes only darkened, lingering on his exposed throat, his pale skin.

"Good," he murmured.

Nori dared a glance upward, his breath catching.

The way the General looked at him… it wasn't just interest. It was something deeper. Hunger.

And suddenly, the weight of his silk robes felt heavier than before.

Nori forced himself to look away, his pulse quickening under the intensity of Ryusoke's stare. The man's presence was suffocating—his piercing eyes, the way his fingers drummed lazily against the wooden armrest, the faint smirk tugging at his lips as if he knew exactly what was going through Nori's mind.

Desperate for a distraction, Nori let his gaze wander—anywhere but him. That was when he truly noticed the size of the room.

Everything here was immense. The towering pillars, the sweeping silk banners hanging from the ceiling, the massive wooden beams that framed the walls. Even the chair Ryusoke sat upon was large, carved with intricate dragons and polished to perfection. It made Nori feel impossibly small.

And he—the General himself—was no different.

Ryusoke was a giant compared to him, his broad shoulders stretching beneath his dark robes, his presence taking up the entire space. He was like a tiger lounging lazily, watching his prey with cool, unshaken patience. The realization sent a shiver through Nori's spine.

Before he could think further, the heavy doors at the far end of the hall creaked open.

Nori's breath caught.

His father had arrived.