Runour fell silent in amazement. No one would say that in jest, not even the windy Etienne.

He just stood there, listening to his cousin's sobs and not knowing what to say. Slowly, the sobs became quieter.

— Runour, I... I need to calm down, — he heard a guilty voice from behind the door, — sorry for the trouble… Go away, please... We'll talk later.

Runour hesitated near the door, and, sighing, left.

Feeling the fading footsteps of his cousin, Dasse took a convulsive breath. He crookedly smiled. They say truthfully – all omegas are hysterics. Over some dog!... Whom he's been in love with for years!... Tears welled up in his eyes again. He sat down on the bed, hiding his face in his hands. He trembled slightly, unable to control himself. He should have been happy for Etienne, as he wished him happiness. But now, it was impossible for him to rejoice. His heart ached unbearably, as if everything inside had been ground through a meat grinder. What was he to do now? He stood up and, on unsteady legs, hobbled to the bar with alcoholic beverages. Unscrewing the cap of a branded vodka bottle, he gulped down a mouthful. The alcohol burned his throat, spreading through his body like lava. Dasse wiped his lips and put the bottle he had started on the table. No, getting drunk was not the solution. Although he desperately wanted to! To drink and forget.

Collapsing onto the bed with arms outstretched, a sardonic visage of his cousin and his insinuating remarks about «you'll be left biting your fists, never having had a ride on him at night» surfaced in his mind. Oh, how he would like to enjoy a whole night of gentle caresses with Etienne in bed! Alas, such fortune was not to be his. The young man let out a hysterical chuckle. Fate had never been so cruel to him. He would never marry the one he truly desired, nor would he ever father children. The potent alcohol had taken its effect, reaching his brain and causing Dasse to become slightly disoriented. His thoughts meandered lazily through his mind. Once again, he recalled Etienne's nocturnal escapades, his fickle and lustful nature. Indeed, it wasn't particularly challenging to seduce him. And in the darkness, one's body remained unseen – any individual could be imagined. Yes, he would submit his resignation letter first thing in the morning – fortunately, he had saved enough money to support himself for a while. But tonight... tonight he would venture into Etienne's room. Of course, the likelihood of persuading him to share his bed was virtually nonexistent, but Dasse had nothing left to lose. With what envy he always felt for all Etienne's lovers, with what lust he looked at how he possessed him, imagining himself in the place of this lover. Dasse, on the brink of consciousness, even regretted that his heat had not yet begun – then he would surely have been able to conceive. He would have left far away and raised a son on his own. With such peculiar thoughts, he drifted off to sleep – the stress he had endured and the alcohol finally taking their toll.

— Um, Etienne... — hesitantly called Ovgust, cautiously taking his fiancé's hand, and Etienne once again felt as though he might ascend to the heavens. The scent of omega, though mingled with the aromas of the guests, still sweetly intoxicated him. They remained in the spacious hall. The guests had recovered from the shock but maintained stony expressions, forcedly smiling sweetly. Etienne's father sauntered among the guests, conversing with them regally, his eyes twinkling with amusement—his son had orchestrated such a spectacle that these stunned, prim faces ought to have been filmed.

— Yes? — Etienne replied tenderly, stroking the soft fabric of the robe on his beloved's shoulder. Ovgust blushed and, after a moment's hesitation, said:

— I... I feel uncomfortable in this robe. Everyone here is dressed up... Allow me to tidy myself up as well... I'll be quick.

Etienne gasped. Indeed! He himself had rushed out here in whatever he was wearing. So engrossed in his beloved, he had paid no attention to anything else.

— Of course! I'm sorry, — he smiled disarmingly, attempting to atone for his oversight, — may I accompany you?

— Will you be peeking while I change? — Ovgust whispered smugly, biting his lip. It seems that Ovgust will not need a black silk negligee: Etienne already belongs to him completely. — No, no, you'll see everything tonight...