I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Chapter 251: A Lesson in What Not to Do

Zarius sat in silence, his eyes scanning a paper, when his entire body suddenly gave a violent, involuntary shiver.

The abrupt movement sent a sharp ripple through his broad shoulders, causing the parchment in his hand to rattle loudly in the quiet study. A sudden, phantom chill had just raced down his spine like a splash of ice water, leaving a lingering, freezing sensation that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He frowned heavily, lowering the rattling paper and rubbing the nape of his neck with a massive, scarred hand, genuinely bewildered by the sudden sensation.

Across the room, Flio looked up from his own stack of profiles, completely freezing. He slowly set his quill down, staring at his commander with a look of cautious disbelief.

"What’s wrong?" Flio asked, his brow furrowing as he leaned forward.

"No," Zarius replied. He aggressively rolled his broad shoulders, trying to force his focus back onto the text. "I just suddenly felt a chill."

"Are you sick or something? Wait, no, you literally never get sick. Did the curse back?"

"I’m fine," Zarius grunted. His deep, gravelly voice carried a trace of genuine bafflement as he tried to shake off the lingering sensation. He roll his shoulders, trying to focus back on the paperwork. "Just a sudden chill."

From the plush velvet couch near the fireplace, a loud, theatrical sigh cut through the room. Elios, who had been lazily balancing a silver letter opener on the tip of his finger, let out a dramatic groan and tossed his head back against the cushions.

"I think we have enough candidates already," Elios chimed in, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling in sheer exhaustion. "At this rate, we’ll end up working harder than the actual people we are trying to hire. Honestly, my eyes are about to cross from reading all these profiles."

Zarius let out a low, irritated growl that sounded like stones grinding together, his eyes dropping back down to the files. They were in the middle of vetting potential marriage candidates for Iryna. It was a delicate, highly sensitive political obligation, but Zarius spent half his time mentally cursing Yerel under his breath.

If Yerel hadn’t opened his big mouth and mentioned Zarius’s name as a potential candidate during that meeting, Zarius wouldn’t be forced to aggressively filter through these elite noble profiles right now. He was deliberately pulling every string he had to ensure Iryna got a magnificent match, one that completely and permanently took his own name off the board.

Seeing the storm clouds gathering on Zarius’s face, Flio tried to calm him down, leaning back in his chair with a placating gesture. "Take it easy, Your Grace. Look at the bright side. These are the finest, most eligible candidates the capital can suggest for Lady Iryna. Though, of course... none of them are quite as fine as you."

The moment the words left Flio’s mouth, Zarius froze completely. He slowly looked up, his eyes landing on the person across from him with a glare so cold it instantly sucked the warmth out of the room.

Before Flio had a chance to recover, Elios let out an excited gasp and immediately straightened on the couch.

"Oh, he’s right!" Elios added, completely fueling the fire with zero regard for his own safety. "None of those stiff, perfume-soaked capital nobles can match our Great Duke."

"Both of you," Zarius said, his voice dropping into a dangerously quiet, low register that made the room feel incredibly small, "need to watch your mouths."

Flio immediately raised his hands defensively, entirely unbothered by the terrifying look but wise enough not to push it further. "Hey, it’s a compliment! I’m just stating a fact."

"Not in this situation, it isn’t," Zarius snapped, his eyes narrowing as he pointed a heavy finger at the files. "Saying that implies you agree with Yerel’s ridiculous logic that day, that I should be the one to get betrothed to her. I want this handled, sealed, and settled. Do you understand?"

Elios rolled his eyes, sinking back into the couch and murmuring under his breath, "So defensive."

Flio chuckled, adjusting his posture as he tapped his desk. "Actually, speaking of which... what did Cherion say about all of this?"

Zarius looked back down at the parchment, his fountain pen scraping against the paper with unnecessary force. His voice dropped into a flat, defensive tone. "Nothing."

Flio blinked, pausing mid-motion. "Nothing? Did you even tell him?"

"I did," Zarius replied smoothly, his expression completely blank. "I just left out the part where my name was mentioned as a candidate."

The room went quiet. Flio slowly reached up, shifting his monocle with a dramatic, deliberate flick of his finger as he stared at his master in absolute disbelief.

Even Elios stopped playing with the letter opener, staring at Zarius like he had just admitted to eating raw monster meat. "Wow," Elios whispered, shaking his head. "And here I thought you were a tactical genius. That is a death wish."

"Bad idea," Flio agreed, sighing deeply as he rubbed his temples. "An incredibly bad idea, Your Grace."

"I didn’t want him thinking about unnecessary things," Zarius muttered, his jaw tightening slightly. In his mind, his logic was flawless. Cherion was already dealing with a lot of things, adjusting to a new environment, and handling the subtle friction of high society. Why add a meaningless thing to his plate? It was better to just eliminate the problem quietly before it ever reached him.

"My Lord, you should definitely talk to him about this," Flio said, his voice taking on the tone of a tired mentor dealing with a stubborn student. "Trust me, hearing it from someone else would’ve been a lot worse than hearing it from you."

"He won’t hear it," Zarius said stubbornly, though a small, uncomfortable knot formed in his stomach. "Because they will soon find someone for Iryna anyway. Once her placement is settled, this whole matter will blow over."

"If you say so," Elios chimed in, a pitying smile on his face.

Zarius chose to ignore Elios entirely. He slammed the leather-bound portfolio shut and pushed the massive, heavy stack toward Flio with cold, absolute determination.

"Take these. Send them to the palace immediately," Zarius ordered. He wanted those documents processed immediately so that the King would never have a single second to reconsider Yerel’s words or dream up a way to bind him to the those political marriage scheme. He was already bound to one political marriage, already happy, and he had no interest in anyone else. That should have been the end of it.

Flio gathered the documents, standing up with a respectful nod. "Right away, Your Grace. Let’s hope the imperial clerks move faster than usual today." He walked toward the door, gesturing for Elios to follow him out and leave their brooding lord in peace.

"Try to smile, Your Grace!" Elios called out over his shoulder as he strolled out. "Wrinkles don’t look good on a candidate!"

The door closed, finally plunging the study into absolute, blessed silence.

Zarius leaned back in his chair, the tension slowly draining from his broad shoulders. He turned his head, looking out the large glass window.

His irritated expression slowly eased. God, I miss him.

A faint, rare trace of a longing smile touched Zarius’s lips as he stared out at the distant capital. I can’t wait for him to just come home.