Julian watched the golden hair of the siblings disappear behind the hedge, leaving him in a silence that felt heavier than the one he had arrived with.
"Thatâs a nice joke, Your Highness."
The words felt like a physical weight in his stomach. He hadnât meant to be cruel; he was just trying to survive. Being the tutor of the Prince and Princess was no different from putting a collar around his neck and handing the leash to the Emperor.
It would ruin him.
But to a child who had finally found a
âsecretâ
ally, those words must have felt like a stab to the heart.
"I think itâs time to go back," he whispered to himself, his voice sounding a bit raspy. "I have to get back before the Emperor decides my âabsenceâ is suspicious enough to lead me to an interrogation cell."
The mere thought of it made him shudder.
When returning, he didnât run this time. Running made him look like a thief.
Instead, he forced himself to walk with the measured, calm pace he had just taught the childrenâchin level, back straight, a âmirrorâ to any guard who dared to look his way. His politeness would be his charm.
By the time he reached the Jade Wing, his legs felt like jelly once again, and his shirt was damp with cold sweat.
All he wanted was to slide behind his door, turn the lock, and take off this suffocating coat. Then, he could start concocting the potion as well.
Maybe tonight, he might finally get a good nightâs sleep.
But as he turned the final corner toward his room, he stopped short.
Lucius was sitting on the floor right outside the door, his small back against the polished wood. He looked like a little bird waiting for the sun to rise. He was holding a small picture book in his lap, his expression quiet, soft, and filled with unwavering patience.
Julian felt a sharp pang of guilt as he looked down at the small boy. Lucius looked like he had been guarding the door.
Lucius noticed his shadow and lifted his head, only to find the tutor he thought had been resting in his room.
He looked at the closed door with a little panic, then back at Julianâs grass-stained clothes, and then the realization hit him. He had been sitting there, heart full of expectation, silently waiting for his teacher to feel better and come outside, while Julian was out in the fields.
A deep, frantic crimson flooded Luciusâs face, reaching even the tips of his tanned ears. He looked down at his boots, his small chest heaving with a mix of mortification and the sheer, overwhelming relief of seeing Julian alive and well. He looked like he would prefer the floor to open up and swallow him whole before his teacher knew of his blunder.
But it was already too late. Julian had already guessed it.
"Lucius," Julian whispered, his voice light with a protective warmth. He stepped forward and knelt, bringing himself level with the boy. "Iâm so sorry to have kept you waiting like this. I... I didnât mean to."
Lucius didnât look up. Instead, he reached out with a trembling hand and gripped Julianâs sleeve so hard his knuckles turned pale. It wasnât a casual touch; it was the grip of someone who had been terrified theyâd been left behind in this golden cage of a palace.
He finally looked up and smiled, though there was no hiding the tears in his eyes. The boy was just glad his tutor was still the same, and nothing had happened, as he had feared.
Julianâs heart twisted, feeling a pang of guilt. He could feel the boyâs silent distress vibrating through his fingers and through the fabric of his coat. Especially so when he took a look at his status.
>[Target: Young Lord Lucius â Affection Level: 57% Current Status: [Intense Embarrassment / Separation Anxiety]
Note: He would wait at this door until the sun died if he thought you were inside.
Why wouldnât he feel guilty?
"Come," Julian said softly, placing a hand on the boyâs head to pat him gently. "You waited long for me, so itâs only right to invite you inside my room, right?"
Lucius eyes beamed with expectations. He wasnt looking forward to seeing the grandness of the room, but rather had the simple thought of, âIâm going inside the teacherâs room. What does it look like?â
He found himself curious, even though he knew this was just a temporary residence while they were at the Palace, and none of it was actually done to Julianâs actual taste.
He reached for the door handle and then opened it. Back to the room where he had committed such an unholy act with the childâs father.
He was embarrassed, but did not let it show.
What you donât know wonât kill you, right?
He decided to stick to that notion if he wanted to keep his sanity.
The heavy oak door creaked open, and Julian stepped into the room that still felt thick with the traces of the previous night. The scent of the Dukeâs presence seemed to cling to the very curtains... it was probably Julianâs own thoughts playing tricks on him.
But just because he knew it was all in his head, did not mean he wouldnât react to the memory.
Julianâs skin prickled. Every time he looked at the silk sheets of the bed, he saw the shadow of a heavy body that wasnât his own. He felt like a criminal shamelessly standing in the middle of his own crime scene, but he kept his expression as smooth and caring as usual.
He couldnât afford to let a single crack showânot with Lucius watching him with such wide, devoted eyes.
Lucius followed him in tentatively, his small hand still clutching Julianâs sleeve as if afraid that if he let go, Julian might suddenly run away again. The boyâs face was still a dusty rose color, but it was actually a nice hue that complemented his tanned features.
"Sit, Lucius," Julian said, his voice regaining that gentleness that always seemed to settle the boyâs nerves. He gestured toward the small velvet armchair near the window, far away from the bed that held too many âunholyâ memories. "Iâll brew us some tea. It seems we both need a moment to catch our breath."
And I should probably check if I can change the sheets.
He thought.