Of course, you’re not scared. The one who gets hit because of you is Tom! Joril wishes to say those things, but he bites his tongue. He only stares coldly at his feet, “You see me, now let me go.”

“You’re always running away from me… Come with me. I want to show you something,” the little prince grabs Joril’s hand and runs away from the Duchess’s place. 

“Wait. Wait. My gifts are going to spill.” Joril tries to take back his hand so that he can fasten the basket again. “Stop. You’re hurting me.”

The little prince stops, grabs Joril’s face, and says, “Do you like this place? My father has been growing these trees called bamboo for the past five years. Aren’t they pretty?”

Joril looks about. These trees are as tall as a two-story building yet skinny like an adult forearm; they’re unlike anything he has seen before in all of his lifetimes. With each breeze the leaves ruffle, the air smells different. 

“I’m glad you like them.” The little prince hugs him.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I already know you like them because your eyes lit up.” The little prince keeps his nose in Joril’s neck. 

“Let me go.”

“Not yet. I only get to hug you like this once in a while. Also, I’m moving to the capital once I turn twelve, so I won’t get to hug you like this anymore… Unless you want to come with me to the capital. Will you, Joril?”

“I won’t go.” Joril tries to push the little prince away.

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know anyone there. Also, my family is here. Why would I go to the capital.”

The little prince sighs, “Then let me hug you a little longer. I’ll come back and marry you, I promise.”

“You shouldn’t promise something that isn’t going to happen—Ack! What are you doing to me?”

“Giving you a hickey,” the little prince chuckles. “And another one.”

“Stop. My father will get mad at you.”

“I’m not scared of your father. I’m my father’s son and heir.”

Joril frowns and steps onto the little prince’s foot. Once they’re apart, Joril slaps him, “You have no respect. I’ll never marry you! Not this lifetime or any lifetime!”

The little prince’s eyes widen, and he tackles Joril to the ground, “Take that back! You’ll marry me! I won’t let you marry anyone else but me!”

“Get off me! I’ll never marry you!” Joril wrestles with the little prince who is only shorter by two fingers. But because of his omega stature, he is much weaker. The little prince pins him down.

“Prince Pilras Wysabell!”

The two children get off of each other and stand straight before the Duke who is on a horse. The Duke is darker and grimmer after he gets off his horse. He walks toward the two children and glares back and forth between the two. First, he slaps his son. Then, he grabs Joril by the neck and slams his small body against the dirt floor. 

“Joril!” Pilras cries for his heart but the Duke’s bodyguards hold him back.

“You dare to seduce the future high Duke of this empire? You’re just an omega from the streets,” the Duke steps onto Joril’s fast-rising chest, but his eyes are on the kiss marks on Joril's neck. 

“Father! Stop! He’s my future husband!”

The Duke laughs, “You will not marry him.”

Joril narrows his eyes at the murderous man standing above him, yet makes no sound. 

“Let’s see if you’ll die first or cry first.” The Duke uses the whip at his side and ties the end around Joril’s neck. Then he rides on his horse again, entering the palace.

The guards tie Joril to a stake while the Duke orders Joril’s punishment for seducing the little prince. 

The Duchess sends people to get Rosenette’s family and rushes to the training ground where Joril awaits his punishment. She asks her husband, “Why are you doing this? He’s just a child. He’s Rosenette’s child.”

“That can’t be. He’s such an obedient child—” 

Before she could finish her sentence, doubts surge from the dark depths of her mind. She runs over and checks Joril’s neck, indeed there are two bold kiss marks. The Duchess couldn’t help herself and slaps Joril. 

“I treat you and your family so well, why would you do this to me?” The Duchess frowns and turns away, unable to take another glance at Joril.

Soon, Joril’s family comes along with curious people to the Duke’s palace. His parents run and embrace him. They ask, “Are you hurt? Where does it hurt? Why did you seduce the prince?”

“Why do mother and father assume I seduced the prince?” Joril knits his brows as his voice cracks. Bitter tears fall from his eyes, “You don’t believe in your son’s innocence?”

Dumbfounded by their son’s broken cry, they apologize to him. 

“Enough!” The Duke sounds from another stage that is shaded by an overgrown hazelnut tree. “For his punishment, he shall endure a disfigured face to never seduce anyone else!”

“That’s too cruel!” Rosenette stands in front of her son. “What’s your proof that my son seduced your son? How can you punish a child in such a way?”

“I saw it with my own eyes. Your son underneath mine. Take a look at his neck, there’s your proof!”

“These kiss marks prove nothing! Your son was on top of mine! Your son forced himself onto my son! How can you read the situation so cruelly?”

“You’re just a housewife! You are to challenge this Duke? You must be mad! Guards! Tie her next to her son!”

“My Lord!” Joril’s father gets on his knees. “My son and wife have wronged you and your son. Please let them go, I’ll pay in their stead.”

“You, the head of the house, did not discipline your son nor your wife. Your punishment is much graver than theirs. But you’re a man and I like that… Alright. You’re released from your position as a blacksmith of my armory. Your family is forbidden to work as a blacksmith in the future. Your father-in-law is released from my academy. Your family is forbidden to attend any academic affairs in the future. This will be true for seven generations.”

Rosenette is about to voice the cruelty and injustice, but her husband holds her down. 

“This is your punishment. As for your son, he'll never be able to mate with anyone.” The Duke raises his hand while everyone is confused. Then a guard takes a torch and sets Joril’s nape into flames. 

His family cries and is held down by the guards. Joril screams from the pain but no tears come out. He swears that this will be the last time.

“That child couldn’t wait until he turns twelve and seduces our son. Go look at his neck. I found them on top of each other, wrestling.”