BR 2.1

Erons had been waking up to refreshing mornings lately. Starting the day with dry underwear was truly delightful. He hadn’t had those dreams since that strange day when he heard the scream.

He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing, but something else had changed, too. He no longer had to go to Nike’s office. 

It hadn’t been many days, but because he’d made time for Erons, it seemed his workload had piled up exponentially.

He often apologized and sent Erons away whenever he visited. Rather than feeling hurt, Erons mostly didn’t want to disturb him, so he’d return without complaint.

Instead, he spent time with the maids. Today was no different; he called Jowen and Lelis for tea.

“Um…”
”What’s wrong?“
”Ah, nothing.”

He’d only touched his tongue to it, but the black tea was seriously bitter. The tea Nike had served him hadn’t been like this. It hadn’t been delicious, but it had been drinkable. Was it because the tea leaves were different?

Even so, this was absolutely undrinkable.

Yet Jowen and Lelis drank it without complaint, even remarking how good the tea tasted today.

Facing someone savoring the brew with a smile, he couldn’t bring himself to say it was too bitter to drink. He lacked the courage to speak, yet clung to the foolish hope that time would make things better.

After the day she cut her hair, Jowen’s attitude had changed.

The Jowen who used to openly grind her teeth was gone. She wasn’t aggressive either. Instead, only an oddly vacant version of her remained.

Jowen was always unfocused, like someone under hypnosis, and couldn’t answer properly. It was clearly not that she didn’t want to, but that she couldn’t.

Finding this sudden change strange, he secretly observed Jowen for a while. Surprisingly, she was lively when with others. She spoke well, and her eyes shone with life. 

Jowen only acted differently in front of Erons.

‘It’s all right, isn’t it? Jowen.’

He didn’t know what strategy she was playing, but he figured it was because she still disliked him. Her state was a bit strange, but in a way, it might have been fortunate. At least she wasn’t trampling him or brandishing weapons like last time.

His face reflected on the clear surface of the tea. Dressed immaculately and well-groomed, he was every bit as impressive as any noble heir.

As long as he didn’t speak of etiquette or scholarship, anyone would believe him to be of noble blood.

Erons imagined a future that might come to him, too. A vision of himself having tea with young Masters and ladies from other families, not Jowen or Lelis.

A future where he built a lovely gazebo in the mansion’s garden, soon to be in full bloom, and mingled with them. 

Just imagining it made his heart swell.

Really, would such a day come? Will I have friends like that, too?

“Lelis. Will I also have gatherings with other people someday?”
“By gatherings, do you mean the social circuit?”
“Yes, that. Meeting and mingling with other noble children.”
“If His Grace desires it, it can be arranged.”
“Really?”
“Do you wish to enter the social circuit?”

“Ah, no. It’s not that… I don’t have any friends my age yet. I was wondering if going to such places might help me find someone I could get close to.“

”Then it might be good to ask His Grace later. If you ask him, he will surely grant it.“
”…. Do you think so? His Grace?“
”Of course. His Grace cherishes you dearly.”
“Well. His Grace…”

He’d never grant permission.

He’s the one who hasn’t allowed any outings or even walks under the pretext of protection. Would he really permit him to meet other young nobles?

Especially when he wants to keep Erons’s existence completely hidden from others?

Suppose he did grant permission. What about the young nobles? Would they genuinely want to be close to that fool who knows nothing and lacks even a shred of manners?

Would they want to befriend him?

“Most of them would likely have ulterior motives. It’s as clear as day that some unknown suitor will send a marriage proposal, claiming to love you. I don’t want to see you toyed with by those worthless scum.“

As Nike had said, most would likely approach with impure intentions. Even now, those words stung. 

Still, preventing him from even seeking support was too harsh a measure. 

Yet, understanding that sentiment, Erons obeyed his words. Firmly believing that someday, he would grant his request.

“Yes, I will.”

Yeah, I haven’t even gotten close to my family yet, let alone friends. My dreams are too big. Even if I can overlook Fedor’s twin, whose face and name I don’t know, I haven’t even gotten close to Fedor, who lives under the same roof.

“Lelis, what kind of person is Lord Fedor?”
“You mean young MasterFedor? Hmm, how should I put it? He resembles His Grace, yet he’s not quite the same?”
“What do you mean?”
“His personality seems similar, yet it’s completely different.”

If they’d been close, he could have understood instantly. But there was still a long way to go.

With a light sigh, Erons’ shoulders slumped.

He couldn’t hide his expression. Not even now. 

He seemed quite regretful that he wasn’t close to Fedor. While lacking the courage to speak, he clearly expressed a desire to become friends.

It might be presumptuous, but Lelis wanted to help him.

“Do you wish to become friends with the young Master?”
“Huh? No! How could I?”
“Why not? Both of you are sons of His Grace. You’re brothers aren’t you?”
“Ah… Still. Lord Fedor…”

He hates me. A lot.

He hadn’t even given him a chance to speak.

He wouldn’t even allow a greeting.

So Erons couldn’t bring himself to agree with Lelis. He felt like he might cry. He felt so pathetic and pitiful, lacking the courage to approach someone he wanted to befriend.

“Thank you, Lelis. But I don’t think that will happen.”
“You’re making that decision without even trying?”
“I just want to take it slow. I don’t want to rush and make a mistake. I can’t afford to be disliked here any more than I already am.”

Poor child. Most people would do what they want first, even if it meant being disliked. Especially nobles. They’re the sort who’ll stop at nothing to get what they want.

What on earth is he going to do, being so timid? Lelis felt an overwhelming pity for him, already shrinking back without even trying.

I hope the day comes soon when he gets along well with the people here.

Only then would a beautiful smile bloom on his shadowed face. Like hers.

However, Erons never mentioned Fedor’s name again after that. He said he would take it slowly, but in truth, it was a declaration of surrender. 

Fedor showed not the slightest sign of easing his guard, and Erons’s already non-existent confidence hit rock bottom.

“My Lord.” Unable to bear it any longer, Lelis grabbed Erons’s hand with a solemn expression. “Would you consider going to see the young Master?”

”Me… to see Lord Fedor?“
”Yes. My Lord, to see Young Master Fedor.“

Lelis knew why he hesitated. Being a maid, she spent much time by his side and could gauge his reactions at any moment.

Even though Fedor acted that way, she didn’t want Erons to give up so easily.

She wished for him to have someone to talk to as an equal, not just a maid.

But Erons thought differently.

Me? Approach him? Out of the question. 

He was certain Fedor would dislike it if he suddenly showed up without any reason to get close.

He already looked at him with such disdain when passing by from afar. How could he possibly go to him willingly?

“No, I…”

How could I possibly go see Lord Fedor?

He tried to refuse. If only he could speak. His words cut off, his parted lips wouldn’t move.

It wasn’t his will. He needed to finish speaking, but he was forced to stop against his own will. Worse, his body moved on its own, as if someone else were controlling it.

“Yes, I want to go.”

What?

“By now, after lunch, the young Master should be free. Would you like to go? We will guide you.”
“Yes, that’s fine.”

No. That’s not what I meant to say!

His feet were compelled to follow the maidservants.

In the end, Erons had to follow the maidservants all the way to Fedor’s room.

Knock knock.

“Young Master. Erons has arrived.”

Lelis, please don’t do this!

Squeak. 

The door opened, making his wish seem pointless. But no one had opened it. He didn’t sense any presence either. 

How could a door open by itself when no one was there?

It was enough to make a ghost weep. The interior, glimpsed through the crack, was filled with darkness like a sealed room.

Unless he stepped inside, he wouldn’t see a thing.

It was terrifying. That darkness seemed utterly incapable of brightening. As if it would swallow him whole.

The open door seemed to beckon him inside, but Erons didn’t want to go in. He wanted to refuse the maids’ kindness and back away, but his body still wouldn’t obey him. 

Legs under someone else’s control dragged him toward Fedor’s space.

Please stop! Why is my body doing this, for heaven’s sake!

Erons’s legs crossed the threshold and took exactly three more steps before halting. The place, which had been nothing but pitch-black darkness, was unexpectedly filled with wonder.

At the unexpected sight, Erons let out a small gasp.

Books crammed onto shelves, overflowing to form mountains on the floor. Glancing at some partially opened volumes, he saw only characters he couldn’t read.

He knew at a glance these unfamiliar letters weren’t the Imperial language. He knew just enough to write his name, barely, but he recognized the general shape.

And the ceiling, the floor – every surface was covered in strange patterns.

“What are these drawings?”

He reached out toward the mysterious, almost bizarre patterns. The chalk lines were rough. As the pattern lines came to within a finger’s width of Erons’s hand, a hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his wrist.

“Yikes!”
“Who told you to touch that?”
“Ah, Lord Fedor. I’m sorry. I was just curious… “

More frightened than surprised by Fedor’s stern grip, Erons quickly pulled his hand away and took a step back. 

Fedor did not grab Erons again. He took chalk from his pocket and traced the erased lines.

His expression, devoid of any emotion, showed he wasn’t angry. Nor that he was pleased. 

Erons, tense as a bowstring, couldn’t meet that expressionless face and bowed his head deeply.

Fedor, looking down at the pitiful crown of his head, suddenly snapped his fingers. 

Snap! 

Without a word, Lelis and Jowen walked out. Leaving Erons behind.

“Um, I was wondering, Lord Fedor. Could you ask Lelis and Jowen to come back in…?”
“You’ve come this far, yet you don’t seem to care about me at all, do you?”
“No! That’s not it… I’m really sorry, but could you at least ask Lelis to come back in? Ugh!”

Fedor roughly grabbed Erons’s jaw and lifted his face. Finally, the two properly faced each other. 

Fedor remained expressionless. That only amplified the terror. An expressionless face could be this frightening. 

Realizing he couldn’t escape that powerful grip, Erons instinctively shut his eyes tight.

“Why do you keep closing your eyes?”
“I… just…”
“Why did you come here?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t come in on purpose. I know you won’t believe me, but my body moved on its own. I truly didn’t intend to come without permission. Please believe me…”

“What? Give me another reason.”
“Another reason? There isn’t one…”
“You said you wanted to get closer.”
“…Huh?”
“You said you wanted to get closer, didn’t you?”

The fingers that had gripped his jaw slowly traced his lips. Erons’s eyes widened in surprise and fluster.

The statement about wanting to get closer to Fedor had only been made once, during a tea time with the maids not long ago. 

Neither Lelis nor Jowen were particularly close to him, and he certainly wouldn’t have summoned the maids just to find out something like this. 

He couldn’t possibly be someone who cared that much about him.

“Stop shaking. I won’t eat you.”

Fedor chuckled at the pathetic sight of him trembling like a mouse before a tiger, then tapped his own ear. Pierced through his earlobe was a simple, round stud. Purple-tinged, like his eyes, with no special design.

“See this?”
“Yes, an earring.”
“It’s not just an earring. It’s a magic stone.”
“Magic stone…?”
“Think of it as a gem that holds magic power. That’s easier to understand.”
“Magic power… Fedor, are you perhaps a mage?”
“Yeah.”

He thought Fedor looked quite unique, wearing a monocle and piercings that others wouldn’t dare. It was something he couldn’t bring himself to say to his face.

He also thought Fedor’s speech and behavior weren’t quite noble-like. But the reason was because he was a mage.

Light flared from the piercing, and smoke rose from Fedor’s feet. A hazy mist enveloped him and vanished, and then Fedor was gone, replaced by Nike standing in his place.

“… Your Grace?”
“Well…”

He grabbed Erons’s arm and pulled him toward the mirror. The mirror reflected both their faces.

Nike and Erons.

Two faces identical to their usual selves, yet different.

“They’re just like Jowen’s eyes back then…”

The red-glowing pupils captured his gaze. They were identical to Jowen’s eyes on the day she cut his hair. Not just gray, but red, holding light within.

Erons’s eyes glowed the same way.

“Looks like you’ve been caught.”
“Caught?”
“Magic. When you’re under a spell, your eyes turn red like this.”

So it wasn’t a mistake after all. Jowen’s eyes, which had returned to normal at the end and been dismissed as a mistake, had been under a spell.

That was a relief. At least it wasn’t painful. Stupidly, Erons worried about Jowen in this situation.

But if that was because of magic… then Jowen trying to harm me wasn’t a dream.

Every time he closed and opened his eyes, the rapidly shifting situation made him think he was having a nightmare. 

He’d thought only up to Jowen saving him from the maids was real and that everything after that was a dream, but it was all real.

As it became clear Jowen had truly done that to him, Erons felt a little uneasy.

“When mages cast spells, this reaction always appears. At my level, it looks like this.”

Fedor’s hand covered his eyes. When his hand, which had lightly touched his eyelids, withdrew, Erons’s eyes regained their original color.

While his eyes had returned to normal, Fedor still maintained Nike’s form.

“I can hide it.”
“But your face is still the same, Fedor.”
“I only removed the signs of the spell being cast on you. I didn’t completely dispel it.”

Snap! 

As he flicked his hand, smoke rose from below and once again enveloped his body. When the smoke cleared, he returned to his true form. 

His eyes were wide and piercingly blue, yet Erons’s eyes sparkled as he watched the rapid changes. 

If Jowen really had been under a spell, this was the third time he’d seen magic firsthand. Though Fedor considered it trivial magic, everything seemed utterly wondrous to Erons.

“Is this difficult?”
“Even though it looks simple, only advanced practitioners can do it. Those below that level can’t manage it even if they try.”
“Even just changing eye color?”
“It’s harder than it looks because you’re overlaying magic on top of the magic you cast yourself.”
“So you’re that advanced, Fedor?”
“Of course.”

Fedor suddenly seemed truly formidable. It might look simple enough, but knowing how to perform something that difficult meant his standing was that high.

“Can I do that too?”
“What?”
“Magic!”
“Don’t even think about it. Unless you want to die.”
“I’ll die…?”

“More than a few Omegas have died trying to become mages. Magic places a greater burden on the body than you’d think. That’s why there are no Omegas among existing mages. It just shows how weak you lot are.”

“But His Grace said I could use the crystal orb on the fifth floor.”
“That’s a special case. The magic on that orb was specifically cast to allow anyone from the Duke’s family to use it. For anyone else? Forget it.”

Erons, whose faint hope had quickly faded, couldn’t hide his disappointment. 

I wish I could have done it. Then I would have at least one skill I could use.

 “Can magic do absolutely anything?”
“Anything except murder.”
“It can make the surface look fine, but the damage beneath the skin remains. Healing is the domain of divine power; magic can only make it appear better. That’s all.”

“What about bringing life into being?”
“Same as murder. Killing and birthing are realms we can’t touch.”
“What about creating an exact duplicate of a person?”
“Cloning? We can create illusions, but cloning a human itself is impossible.”
“…So there’s nothing magic can do?”

“…”

SMACK!

A sharp sound rang out, and his forehead stung. Fedor’s fist slammed into his forehead, making Erons let out a short groan.

“Ow!”
“Don’t you think you’re just picking things you can’t do, shorty?”
“Shorty?!”
“You’re short, aren’t you?”
“I’m not short!”
“Over 5.6”?”

Erons bit his lip hard when the exact number came out. 5’6“. That was the height he’d always wanted. Growing up, he’d prayed to God every single day, begging to just be over 5’6”, but his growth stopped just past 5’5″. 

That was only natural; Omegas were inherently much smaller in both height and build compared to Alphas and Betas. While small compared to them, he wasn’t particularly short among other Omegas.

“Still, I’m not that short. To be 5’6” feet… well, I am a little short of that…”
“See? You are small.”
“….. And how tall are you, Fedor? Over 6”?”
“Me?”

As he pouted and grumbled slightly, Fedor grabbed his arm. Erons, caught off guard, ended up burying his face against Fedor’s chest.

Frozen in place, Erons was too stunned to move a finger.

Ah… Fedor lifted his chin, and Erons let out a small sigh. He had to tilt his head back to meet Fedor’s eyes.

He hated to admit it, but Fedor was quite tall.

“6’2”.”

Yeah, I guess I’ll admit being called a kid at this height. I couldn’t argue with that label. It didn’t even take much exaggeration. We were practically a handspan apart.

“So? Satisfied?”
“Satisfied with what?”
“You said you wanted to get closer. How about it? I’m doing this much for you.”

Could everything he’d shown me so far really be because of that one phrase about wanting to get closer?

Erons’s gaping mouth refused to close. It was hard to believe those words had come from Fedor’s mouth, of all people.

“…Why suddenly? You don’t like me.”

Where did this courage come from? Erons spoke clearly and distinctly, words he normally wouldn’t have dared utter.

It must be because of Fedor.

He was willingly showing abilities he’d hidden until now and seemed willing to grant him what he wanted. That must have given him just enough courage to speak up.

Fedor didn’t answer that question immediately. The silence felt short yet long, forcing Erons to tense up again.

Did I offend him? Maybe I should have just kept it to myself…

Erons was afraid that by acting too boldly after that brief kindness, he might earn Fedor’s hatred again.

“I don’t like you. Do you think I did this because I like you?”

Just as expected. The answer he’d anticipated but didn’t want to hear came back. It hurt, like something invisible was stabbing his chest. He was a fool for hoping.

“Hey.”
“… Yes.”
”You knew all along, so why are you so down?“

I’m down precisely because I knew. I knew he disliked me, yet I still dared to hope. Does he even understand the utter devastation when that hope shatters? Probably not. How could someone so self-assured possibly know this feeling?

”I heard you say you dislike me directly. It would be weird if I felt good about that, right?“
“True. That makes sense.”
“Still, thank you. You used magic to bring me here, right?”
“You figured it out.”
“My body just started moving on its own, so I thought it was weird. Thank you for calling me.”
“You’re thanking me for everything.”
“You can dislike me.”
“Huh?”
“You can keep disliking me.”

Fedor doubted his ears. Had he misheard? He’d gone out of his way, even doing things against his nature to accommodate him, and this was all he got in return?

He’d summoned him because he wanted to be close, but the words that actually came out of Erons’s mouth were ‘you can dislike me.’ How utterly disheartening.

“I won’t shamelessly ask you to like me. I’m an orphan, and… I’m an Omega. A recessive Omega. I’m good at nothing, and honestly, I know I’m just a parasite.”
“Why are you suddenly saying this?”
“… Just…”

A choked voice was swallowed up inside his mouth.

It wasn’t just that. He had to lay this groundwork somehow, so the pain later would be less.

Erons clenched his lips tightly, not wanting Fedor to see his choking sobs. He didn’t want to hurt. He didn’t want to feel miserable either.

But it was useless. Fedor saw everything. He saw Erons’s eyes reddening with tears, his lips pressed together with all his strength.

Fedor, spitting out words that he didn’t know were annoyance or anger, placed his hand on Erons’s head.

“Come again.”
“Where?”
“Here. Come back. Who knows? Maybe after seeing you a few times, the aversion might fade.”
“Really…?”
“Yeah.”

It was a much quicker, much more positive response than he’d expected.

This makes me hopeful…

Still, I want to hope. Is he opening his heart to me? I desperately hope so. Please.

The hand placed lightly on his head held not a shred of tenderness. He hadn’t expected a gentle stroke to begin with, but just the act of placing it there was enough. 

Even that simple gesture felt good. Just a few hours ago, this situation was unimaginable, so it was only natural.

Erons’s overflowing chest and the tears he couldn’t hold back showed just how happy he was.

“Stop sniffling. I’m terrible at comforting people, so if you’re going to cry, do it in front of your father.”
“Yes… I’m sorry.”
“Is that how you talk? Saying ‘I’m sorry’?”
“Do I say it that often?”
“Just, well…”

Fedor irritably wiped Erons’s tears roughly with his sleeve. Not that his wet face looked ugly. In fact, it was closer to his taste.

But he hated it.

His reason for hating it was, as expected, quite peculiar.

That sniffling sound kept sounding like moans to him. A dark desire stirred within him, wishing those tears weren’t shed from emotion, but from being impaled on his body.

… Wait.

Did he really need to comfort him for that reason? He could just make it happen.

“Hey. If I’ve done this much for you, shouldn’t you do something for me too?”

He was making a demand. 

Anyone who knew Fedor would have hated to grant his request. He was notorious for being such an eccentric that his normal demands could be counted on one hand. 

Of course, Erons didn’t know that, and the very fact that he was asking him to do something made him happy. So, without a second thought, Erons readily agreed.

“If it’s something I can do, I’ll do it! Just tell me what you need.”
“Where’d you get that confidence? Like you know what I’m gonna ask you to do.”
“Well… I don’t know. But I don’t think you’d ask me to do something I absolutely couldn’t do.”
“Right. I wouldn’t ask you to do something hard because you don’t know how to do anything.”

It was a thoughtless remark, yet the thorn hadn’t fully disappeared. He’d bluntly looked down on Erons, saying he couldn’t do anything.

It was enough to make anyone feel bad, but Erons was fine with it. He just wanted to be able to meet his demands, no matter what.

He was truly stupid and naive. 

Erons looked up at him with sparkling eyes, making him laugh.

Whether brothers or brothers-to-be, they were clearly not related by a single drop of blood. 

Even their traits were polar opposites.

When two such different traits meet, the outcome is obvious without saying a word. Yet he acted like that, unaware, so it was only funny.

“Want me to guess something?”

He poked Erons right in the chest.

“It was hot every morning, wasn’t it?”
“…Huh?”
“Your nightshirts, your underwear… You washed them all yourself every day, didn’t you? Right?”

Erons’s face flushed with embarrassment at this man who seemed to know everything he’d assumed no one else did.

Not even his maids, Lelis and Jowen, knew. No one but Erons himself.

Yet Fedor knew. 

He, who had never once set foot in the bedroom. 

Having his secret exposed, something he’d wanted to hide from others, Erons’s face flushed bright red.

“H-how did you know?”
“I told you, I’m a mage. I have to figure out things like that to maintain my status. And, the reason you wash your clothes yourself must be this.”
“Hiiik – !”

His hand touched the rounded mound. As he kneaded his ass as if it were a toy, Erons’s already flushed face nearly burst.

Only Nike had ever touched his buttocks while sober. Any other touch felt unfamiliar, too chilling.

“Lord Fedor.”
“Hm.”
“P-please, take your hand off.”
“Why should I?”
“Because your hand keeps… Huh…!”

His finger traced the deep groove downward.

The finger, digging deep, soon reached his perineum. It was a place even Nike had never touched. As the finger teasingly rubbed that spot, his underwear threatened to become damp, and a sweet scent began to rise from Erons’s body.

When the smooth perineum was swiftly stroked, Erons twisted his body. It might have been his own form of resistance, but that movement caused their bodies to rub together, backfiring completely.

Fedor, leaning close, stopped right beside his ear.

“I’ll teach you. How to soothe a body heated by naughty dreams every night.”