Chapter 78: "I... I need to..."

"Your Grace," a servant whispered from the hallway. "The Marquis Astrea and his sons... they have returned."

At such an hour?

"They are asking for an update on Master Julian’s condition. The Marquis says he cannot rest until he sees his son’s face."

Alaric’s jaw set into a hard, jagged line. He thought of the Marquis’s face—the man who had barely looked concerned when Julian’s horse had made its way back without its rider, and Lucius showed up with tears as he pointed at the woods. He did not move a muscle or even send a search party.

The Duke had been too alarmed to think about it then, thinking he might not have known it was his son involved, but after seeing Julian’s expression as he mentioned his father, he confirmed it.

That man wasn’t here out of care of ’parental duty’, he simply wanted to ride on the coattails of his son now that he seemed

useful

.

"Tell the Marquis," Alaric said, his voice sounding deep as it rumbled out of his throat, "that Julian is resting. He is in no condition to receive guests, family or otherwise."

"But My Lord, he insists—"

"I do not care what he insists," Alaric snapped, finally turning his gaze to the door. His eyes were bloodshot, burning with a weary, protective fire. "Julian is under the care of the North. If the Marquis wishes to play the grieving father, he can do it in the foyer. As long as I am here, he shall not disturb this room."

The servant’s footsteps hurried away, leaving the room in a ringing silence.

Alaric turned back to Julian. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he adjusted the edge of the blanket. He didn’t touch Julian’s skin—he felt like he would wake him up with the faintest contact since he was in such an unstable state—but he stayed close.

He sat back down, leaning his head into his hand, closing his eyes for just a second.

Honestly, he wasn’t thinking about rebellion.

He wasn’t thinking about picking up his sword and severing his brother’s leg at the very least. He would not kill him for the sake of the bond that they had in the past as brothers, but... he needed the Emperor to know pain.

But he did not act on any of it. Julian needed him by his side. What would happen if Julian woke up and couldn’t find him?

He didn’t want Julian to panic upon his wake, so he just sat there, listening to the sound of Julian’s heartbeat. It was the only thing keeping the Duke’s own world from falling apart.

In the corner of Julian’s vision, the purple light flickered weakly, unnoticed by the sleeping man.

> [NOTIFICATION: SYSTEM LOG]

> Current Status: Body Recovery: 29% — Mental State Recovery: 24%

In the middle of the night, Julian’s fever had peaked, leaving him in a state of shivering, helpless lucidity. But that wasn’t his main issue as he remained conscious; it was the pressure that made him want to ’go’.

He had tried to ignore the pressure in his bladder for as long as he could since he couldn’t move on his own. The pain made him nauseous. But eventually, the physical need outweighed the fear of pain, and he called out to the Duke.

"Your Grace," he had whispered into the dark, his voice a dry rasp.

He didn’t know if the Duke was still awake, but he wished for something to happen because the last thing he wanted was peeing in the bed.

The Duke woke up right away to that little raspy voice, as he had put his ear out for it the entire time.

"What is it, Julian?"

"I... I need to..." Julian couldn’t finish the sentence, his face heating with a shame that felt hotter than the fever.

He expected the Duke to pull the bell cord for a servant or a valet. Instead, Alaric had simply stood up and pulled back the heavy blanket.

Without a word, he slid one arm beneath Julian’s shoulders and the other beneath his good leg, avoiding the bandaged puncture as much as he could, lifting Julian steadily to prevent the pain from recurring.

Julian was speechless. The experience had been mortifying.

Being hoisted like a child, his weight was nothing against the Duke’s solid frame. Julian was forced to rely entirely on this man for the most basic of dignities.

He knew the Duke had probably seen everything during the three days of wound-cleaning and dressing changes, and not to talk of

that night

when he touched him, but... the intimacy of being physically supported while he relieved himself was a different kind of exposure.

An embarrassing kind.

Duke Alaric had remained throughout the entire ordeal, trying not to cause Julian any form of discomfort with his presence, but that only made Julian’s heart hammer faster with embarrassment.

He’s doing too much,

Julian had thought as the Duke settled him back into the pillows, adjusting everything to make sure he was comfortable.

A Grand Duke does not do things like this.

He felt the Duke’s calloused hand caress his face a little longer and then said,

"Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything else." That soft light in his eyes made Julian clutch his chest. "I’m right here."

Julian stared at him, not knowing if it was a sin to enjoy the Duke’s caress as he was doing right now. If it was, then he might as well be a sinner.

His heart was racing and his mind was spinning, staring at the Duke as he retreated.

Seriously, this is too much.

By the next morning, Julian was exhausted from the mental strain of the night. He lay perfectly still on the bed, his body feeling like lead, and his mind felt sluggish.

And one thing he noticed was that he did not have his violent wake. He wondered if this meant he no longer had that traumatic everyday waking up experience.

Or if it was just because his body could not handle it.

For whatever reason, he was glad. He didn’t want to have to put up with the cold sweat and wheezing on top of his current condition.

He stared at the ceiling for a while, trying to piece together his thoughts, when a knock came on the door, and Alaric raised his head.

"Your Grace, breakfast is here." She announced, and Julian felt he could probably only think properly once he had eaten a good meal.

"Come in," The Duke announced and the door opened.

As the maid rolled the cart inside the room, another head popped in through the open door, which caught Julian’s attention.

He shifted his gaze to look closely, and the head popping in to spy the happenings of the room was a small golden hair that he’d recognize anywhere anytime.

It was Lucius.