CEDRIC POV
My frown deepened as I looked around the receiving room.
The space was both opulent and stifling, with heavy velvet drapes pulled tightly across the windows, allowing only a dim, amber glow from the flickering wall sconces to light the room.
A soft hum of conversation, occasionally broken by laughter, filled the air, blending with the quiet clinking of glasses as servants glided through the crowd, expertly refilling drinks.
"Best to lose that scowl." Eamon cautioned as he propped himself on the mantle. "Gareth's coming this way. Lord, he just elbowed the Earl of Brimin out of his path."
I took a deep breath, forcing a smile to appear.
It used to come so easily; that smile—
But now—
Gareth continued toward us, weaving effortlessly through clusters of finely dressed guests who barely noticed him passing. His movements were almost childlike, his enthusiasm infectious as he dodged around ladies in flowing silk gowns and gentlemen in tailored coats.
While most betas stayed in the background, Gareth was anything but a wallflower.
Perhaps it was because I doted on him, given the fifteen years that separated us. No one would dare belittle him—certainly not to his face—not with our family's status.
As I watched him now, his short brown curls bouncing with every step, his cherubic face bright with excitement, a strong sense of protectiveness washed over me. He was clumsy and often got into trouble, but he was one of the few people in my life I genuinely cherished.
He stopped before us, eyes bright, his breath coming in soft pants from his hurried approach. "Oh, Cedric, it's so good to see you smiling," He beamed. "I do believe you might be enjoying yourself."
Enjoying myself?
If only he knew the effort it took to keep the smile in place.
Not waiting for my response, he turned to Eamon. "It's a pleasure to see you again." A faint blush colored his cheeks as he offered Eamon the faintest of smiles.
Eamon inclined his head.
"Isn't it quite something I managed to convince Cedric to attend this evening?" Gareth went on. "He usually loathes such gatherings."
Eamon's lips twitched, his eyes never leaving Gareth. "How did you get him to drag himself here?"
Gareth's blush deepened, and he shifted on his feet, clearly flustered. "I-I simply reminded Cedric that it's important to maintain appearances," he stammered, avoiding Eamon's gaze. "He can't spend all his time brooding, after all."
"I suppose I should thank you, then."
Gareth’s gaze dropped to the floor. "N-no need to thank me. I’m just glad Cedric’s here, and… uh… I mean… it’s nice that you’re here too," he mumbled, his voice trailing off into a whisper as his cheeks reddened.
Eamon cleared his throat and chuckled.
"You're right. It's good that Cedric is here. And it's good to see you too, Gareth."
I watched them, a flicker of suspicion tightening my chest.
Eamon had grown up watching Gareth run wild around the estate, often half-naked with dirt on his face. There was no way that he was interested in Gareth; he barely tolerated him when we were younger.
But.
There was something in the way his eyes traveled over Gareth's bowed head.
I let the silence stretch just a bit longer, watching the way Gareth's cheeks reddened and Eamon's confident demeanor wavered ever so slightly. "Should I be preparing for a duel at dawn?"
Eamon's head jerked up, his eyes widening for a split second before he quickly flashed his signature grin. "A duel? Cedric. You know I—"
"I—I mean," Gareth interrupted, "it's just been a while since I've seen Eamon, that's all. Nothing more to it." His cheeks flushed an even darker red as he stumbled, "He's... uh... he's practically ancient."
"Brat!"
I chuckled at that.
"Ancient, am I?"
Gareth laughed, "Well, compared to me, you have practically one foot in the grave," he teased back, his confidence slowly returning.
Eamon's eyes widened in mock horror, his hand flying to his chest, "How will I ever survive this mortal wound?" He sank against the mantle as if his legs could barely hold him, letting out a long, pitiful groan that drew disgruntled glances from the nearby guests.
Gareth rolled his eyes, "I'm sure your ego will survive."
I watched them, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips.
"And you, Gareth," I asked, my tone lighter than it had been all evening, "are you enjoying yourself?"
“Tonight's been absolutely wild—I have to tell Mother everything! Lady Bennett fainted right there on the dance floor, and Sir Reginald got into a shouting match with Lord Ashford over some feud. And get this—a servant omega was caught in the library in full heat with a mated alpha—it’s all anyone's been gossiping about! Oh, and you won't believe it—Keir might be showing up. I’ve heard the most incredible stories about him!”
"Gareth, breathe," I interrupted.
He paused, taking a few deep breaths.
"And who, pray tell, is this Keir?"
Mrs. Fairchild's newest apprentice, Eamon, jumped in. "He's an omega male. Though I haven't had the chance to meet him, I've heard he's quite captivating." Eamon really needed to find something better to do with his time if he was up-to-date with the latest society gossip. "His father was a dominant alpha from a well-known family until a scandal tarnished their name. Loxley encountered him and was immediately smitten."
"An omega male? That's rare. And what about his mother?" Gareth questioned.
"A terrible tragedy, as I hear it," Eamon's tone softened. "His mother, was... not right in the mind."
Gareth's brow pinched, lines creasing his forehead as his eyes sharpened with worry. "What do you mean, not right in the mind?"
"She was mad," Eamon answered bluntly. "When she learned she was with child, she fled. Many assumed that both mother and babe had perished until just six months ago when Lord Keir arrived in London."
"And his father?"
"He departed England after his mate vanished, and no one has heard of him since."
"Poor Keir," Gareth whispered, his voice soft as his eyes grew misty. "Does he have anyone left, or is he alone now?"
I rubbed a hand over my face, sighing as I watched Gareth’s expression. "Gareth, you don't even know the man."
"It's still a tragedy," Gareth insisted, turning to Eamon. "Godfrey's mate was devastated when her parents died."
The mention of that name sucked the air from my lungs, causing my entire body to tense.
Gareth remained blissfully unaware as he continued speaking, while Eamon, one of the few who knew the entire story, swiftly steered the conversation elsewhere.
"I'm eager to meet Lord Keir as well. No one has been able to uncover anything about his past. It certainly adds to the mystery, doesn't it?"
"I've heard so many conflicting stories about him."
“Even so, I think…” Eamon’s words faded into the air, his focus drifting past us. His eyes widened, and he let out a low, appreciative whistle, cutting through the hum of conversation, and heads turned, following his gaze toward the entrance of the receiving room.
"Lord Keir."
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