chapter 4

Chapter 4

The doors groaned as they swung open, and Lord Yuki stepped inside, his heart hammering against his ribs. His breath came in short, uneven bursts, sweat gathering at his brow despite the cool morning air. He had not stopped once during his journey, pushing his body beyond its limits, because he knew—one does not make General Ryusoke wait.

To do so was to court death.

He had seen it before. Men who had arrived too late, foolish enough to test the General's patience. Some had left with their pride shattered, their lives hanging by a thread. Others had never left at all. The memory sent a chill down his spine, his trembling hands tightening into fists as he stepped further into the hall.

But fear for his own life was nothing compared to the terror gripping his heart now.

Nori.

His precious son, his youngest, the one he had spent years protecting. Nori, who had never known hardship, never felt the weight of a stranger's cruel touch. He had been raised like a delicate flower, guarded against the harshness of the world.

And now, he was here.

Lord Yuki's eyes darted forward, searching desperately—until they found him.

Nori stood near the General, draped in the finest silk, his slender form illuminated by the morning light. His face was calm, unreadable, but his small hands were clenched at his sides, the only sign of his unease.

But what sent ice through Lord Yuki's veins was Ryusoke's gaze.

The General sat relaxed, his sharp eyes fixed upon Nori's fair skin, his exposed collarbones, the delicate curve of his throat left bare by the fine silk. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes. It was hunger. Possession. Amusement.

Lord Yuki's stomach twisted violently.

Had he arrived too late? Had his son already been tainted?

His knees felt weak, but he forced himself to stand tall. He had to fix this. He had to protect him.

Even if it meant bargaining with a devil.

Lord Yuki forced his breath to steady, pushing down the panic clawing at his chest. His movements were swift and precise as he bent forward, pressing his forehead to the cool floor in a deep, formal dogeza bow.

"General Ryusoke," he said, his voice firm despite the dread pooling in his gut. "I offer my deepest apologies for any trouble my son has caused you. I am honored by your summons."

A heavy silence stretched through the hall, thick with unspoken tension. Then—

"You may rise."

The General's voice was smooth, composed, yet carried the weight of absolute authority. Lord Yuki straightened, his gaze carefully lowered, unwilling to meet the predator's eyes directly.

Ryusoke gestured toward the low table set before them. "Sit. We have much to discuss."

Lord Yuki obeyed without hesitation, folding himself neatly onto the cushion, though every muscle in his body remained tense.

The General leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable as they flickered toward Nori, who remained still, silent, like a porcelain doll waiting to be placed back on a shelf.

"You must be wondering," Ryusoke mused, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his cup, "under what circumstances I had the pleasure of meeting your precious, sheltered son."

Lord Yuki swallowed hard, his nails digging into his palms beneath the folds of his robe.

He already knew he would not like the answer.

Ryusoke took a deliberate sip of his tea, his gaze never leaving Lord Yuki as he set the cup down with a soft clink.

"I found him," he began smoothly, "wandering the streets at night—alone. An innocent lamb in a den of wolves."

Lord Yuki's breath caught, his back stiffening as dread crawled up his spine.

"A brothel," the General continued, watching the older man's reaction with clear amusement. "That is where your son ended up. Dressed far too delicately, looking far too enticing for his own good. He walked in like a lost fawn, and the men inside… well, they were more than eager to take him in."

Lord Yuki felt the blood drain from his face. His fingers trembled against the fabric of his robe. A brothel. Of all places.

Ryusoke leaned forward slightly, his voice darkening. "Had I arrived a moment later, your precious son would have been defiled beyond saving."

Lord Yuki's jaw clenched, his heart pounding so loudly it nearly deafened him. He turned sharply to Nori, his eyes scanning every inch of his child's face, his delicate hands, his exposed throat. His son was undeniably beautiful, his features softer than any man's should be, his skin untouched by the harshness of the world.

And that was the problem.

Nori had always been too soft. Too gentle. Too much like a flower in a storm.

And the world—especially their traditions—had a place for sons like that.

Among the nobility, it was not unheard of for feminine sons to be wed as male wives, their beauty and delicate nature making them desirable partners for powerful men. It was a fate Lord Yuki had spent years trying to shield Nori from, refusing to let his son be bartered away like some prize.

But now…

His breath shuddered as he turned back to Ryusoke. There was no mistaking the glint in the General's eyes—the dark, lingering gaze that traced Nori's form as though already claiming him.

Had his son been defiled? If so, there would be no hope. His purity was the only thing protecting him from being taken.

Lord Yuki tightened his fists beneath the table.

He had to know. He had to be sure.

"Tell me," he forced out, his voice low, strained. "Was he… untouched?"

Ryusoke smiled, slow and predatory.

And he did not answer immediately.

Nori's breath hitched, his hands gripping the silk of his robe so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He wanted to speak—to cry out, to tell his father, No! I am still pure!

But he couldn't.

His father's question hung heavy in the air, and though every fiber of his being screamed for him to defend himself, tradition forbade it.

In the presence of elders, a son—especially one as delicate as himself—was to remain silent unless spoken to. Any protest now would be seen as improper, undignified. He was expected to sit quietly while his fate was debated as if he were nothing more than a bargaining piece.

And worse, his purity was being questioned.

Nori's chest tightened, panic creeping up his spine. If this rumor spread, if anyone heard that he had been in a brothel—**that he had almost been taken by men—**his reputation would be ruined.

A son like him was already at risk. His beauty, his soft voice, his gentle nature—they were both a blessing and a curse. If people believed he had been tainted, he would never marry well. His future, his family's honor, everything would be destroyed.

His father would try to protect him, of course. But could he?

Across the table, General Ryusoke sipped his tea, his dark eyes flickering toward him with lazy amusement, as if he could sense the storm brewing inside Nori's mind.

And then, finally, the General spoke.

"Would you like to hear my answer?" he murmured, setting his cup down with a deliberate click.

The room was silent. Nori's heartbeat thundered in his ears.

He wasn't sure if he was more afraid of the answer—or the way Ryusoke was smiling.

Ryusoke watched in quiet amusement as Lord Yuki sat frozen, his son trembling beside him like a cornered rabbit. He knew exactly what the older man feared.

In this country, sons like Nori—soft, delicate, beautiful—were both treasured and scrutinized. The slightest rumor of impurity could ruin them, turning them into unwanted burdens, unfit for noble marriages, unworthy of their family name.

Ryusoke could see it in Nori's wide, panicked eyes. He knew the boy wanted to protest, to swear on his honor that he was still untouched. But tradition bound him in silence.

For a moment, Ryusoke let the tension stretch, let the fear settle into their bones. Then, finally, he steeled his face, his voice turning cool and decisive.

"I saved your son," he said, his words slow and deliberate. "I arrived before the worst could happen."

Lord Yuki exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging just slightly in relief.

But Ryusoke wasn't finished.

"Of course," he continued, his gaze flicking back to Nori, who sat stiffly, his fair skin still tinged with panic, "words are not enough in matters of purity."

He leaned back, his expression unreadable. "Later today, we will summon a doctor."

Lord Yuki's head snapped up. Nori's breath caught in his throat.

"A doctor will inspect your son's flower," Ryusoke said smoothly, "to ensure it is still intact."

The weight of his words crashed over them like a tidal wave.

Nori felt his stomach drop, his vision blurring at the edges. A doctor… to check his purity?

His worst nightmare had just become reality.