The evening passes by quickly as the couple continues their discussion. After years, Darien is enjoying himself to the fullest.

Night comes and they have dinner together in bed, while Seren cannot keep his eyes off his lord’s muscular chest. He is wearing a black V–neck robe which gives away his scarred chest. But when he reaches out, Darien moves back.

Second moon of Zara, Era of Asael

I write this in the night while Lord Darien is asleep. He came back today. Orlando said he would and I’m glad he is right.

It has been a lovely day, my lord himself was lovely, especially his physique. He’s a fine man and it is rather surprising that he had been unwed for such a long time.

But, I suppose I understand. My lord is blunt and speaks his mind, while I respect it, it has still hurt my feelings. Especially the fact that he orders people to hunt those poor hares and how he insults Lady Ophellia.

It is

I just hope Cristine is well.

The next few days pass by, they wake up, take a walk, then have breakfast, go to the library, have supper and then go to sleep.

It’s a dance of etiquette that is starting to frustrate Seren to no end.

It is the 4th Moon of Zara, the couple is strolling around the gardens in the dark night. Darien has his hands behind his back as he looks ahead, though his pace is slower than before.

Seren is beside him, then he hears a soft chuckle in the bushes. He turns to look at Darien who remains unfazed and continues walking. 

Seren slows down, removing his anklets before hesitantly walking towards the bush and resting a hand on the tree nearby. Its bark was rough, it fel- No, you have not fallen so below.

And the figures of Orlando and Callisto come before his eyes. Orlando’s hand shamelessly travels below his husband’s hips to his thighs as his mouth latches onto the supple skin of Callisto’s pale neck with such heat that makes Seren’s breath catch and his patched cheeks become red.

Yet a flash of envy rushes through Seren before he can stop himself. He turns away, staring at Darien who was waiting for him a dozen feet away.

“It is not fair..” He thinks, his hands curling into fists. “Why can’t my fiance be like his brother?”

Seren should be ashamed of himself, he should but he can’t. He wanted more than small talks with his lord, he wanted intimacy.. physically. 

The touch of Darien’s rough hands everywhere until he is screaming his name out loud. He wants everything that happens to the main characters of his novels, he has been without intercourse for a month and 4 days.

A MONTH. Does he not understand that a betrothed  couple without intercourse is extremely shameful? All his friends had it when they were merely courting!

They told him all about it. What is even Darien waiting for? Is he undesirable? Is his sk—

“Seren?”

Seren blinks before he walks towards Darien, sliding out his anklets from his pockets before lifting a foot to secure them on.

“You took off your anklets.. You know Archon Asael also had this same design."

Seren wanted to roll his eyes, yes, Archon did have the same anklet design but his designer is not the only one to copy the sacred ornament.

“I’ll be cautious next time, my lord..” He mumbles, his cheeks flushed as Callisto’s moans grew louder. He rubs his temples as Darien looks around with a raised brow.

“What is this… foul noise?” Darien speaks in complete, irritating confusion.

Seren wants to scream at him. How on Earth could a twenty–six year old man with a body of a sculpted warrior be so.. Oblivious. And yet he calls him a child. 

“Then we should continue with our walk, my lord..”

Darien nods and he turns, Seren grasps his hand; after a moment of hesitation, the Duke allows it.

Darien leans against the metal railings of the high-up balcony, sipping on his whisky as he glares down at the forests.

It has been over 4 years since the war, peace has just returned to Ivor and yet the provinces still are displeased.

The wind messes with Darien’s brown hair and his loosely tied robes, his heavy gold ring clinks against the craved ceramic of his iced drink when he tightens the grip on it.

Hayes must have a hol—

The soft chimes of the familiar gold anklets cut through his thoughts and he turns on his heel. The sight of Seren came to him who was holding the Daily Courant, he had an airy deep emerald tunic on that reached to his upper thighs and a pair of dark black shorts that peeked out from the hem of the tunic. Traditional Wystan wear. People here, both tourists and inhabitants, wear something similar to this. It seems Seren has finally surrendered to the heat of Zara and Rue.

Darien hummed softly, his eyes never leaving his fiance who flipped through the  green-ish brown pages of the Courant. His obsidian gaze then travels down to Seren’s tanned legs with pale patches here and there, then to his adorned ankles before they shoot back up and he clears his throat. 

“What are you reading?”

Seren looks up and his face brightens once again. His bare feet immediately catch up to Darien. He stands beside him, Darien leans down to Seren’s head so he doesn't have to squint at the small letters. He could see a picture of a nose ring, then some earrings, and he couldn’t forget about the waist chain. Darien raised a brow at Seren, taking a sip of his strong whisky.

“What is this?”

“I am scouting for new jewelry to add to my collection!”

Darien nods but then he catches a glimpse of Seren’s nose; smooth and unpierced.

“Why a nose ring?”

Seren wraps an arm around Darien’s, who goes stiff but he doesn’t dare to push Seren away. Seren placed his chin on Darien’s shoulder, pressing his side against their intertwined arms.

“He has become bolder..” Darien’s heart races “Or was he just pretending before?”

“My lord, it is in fashion! And I must be as fashionable as my citizens.”

Darien sighed, looking down at his fiance with tired yet fond eyes.

“Wine?”

Seren nods, letting go of Darien’s arm with a slow, lingering touch of his black sleeve. Heat creeps up to Darien’s neck as he turns away to get the porcelain wine pitcher from the small table a few feet away.

“Red, I suppose?”

“Mhm..”

Seren leans against the railings, his chin on his palm, his elbow supported by the railing as a small, knowing smile tugs at his plush lips as he watches his lord.

Darien pours the red wine down two cups. He grabs the first glass and takes a sip, making sure it isn’t blood. Oftentimes the servants had mixed them before, but they had now become mixed with the animal blood themselves which Darien must admit that it tastes delectable.

Satisfied with the sweetish dry taste, he grabs the other one and walks over to Seren who remains in the same position.

Seren smiles at him as his cold fingers brush against Darien’s warm ones when he takes the ceramic cup in his tanned hands. Not once leaving eye contact as the red wine colors his lips red.

But Seren’s lips aren’t the only thing red. The heat from Darien’s neck has reached to his ears and yet Seren has only looked at him! He, who has prided himself for his self-control, cannot be a blushing fool because of his.. unique fiance.

“My lord.. Am I not to your standards?”

Darien’s eyes immediately darken and he leans down, a hand on the railing beside Seren’s upper arm, forcing Seren to lower his chin. The air is warm around them, the late afternoon sunlight glaring down at them.

“Who told you that?”

“Just an assumption..” Despite Seren’s efforts, a small smirk tugs at his lips.

“An assumption..” Darien grumbles, straightening abruptly, tearing his gaze away to glare out the horizon. 

Seren’s smile drops, and he takes a tentative step closer, the soft chime of his anklets breaking the silence. 

“My lord.. I beg you, tell me..”

“It doesn’t matter, Seren. You are seven years younger than me.”

Seren frowns, getting in between the railing and Darien. The Duke immediately tries to pull away but Seren presses a hand on his chest, Darien goes stiff and his heart jumps against Seren’s palm. 

Slowly, Seren’s fingers trailed upward, his index and middle fingers tracing a path up Darien’s chest. One of the black silk the other on the scarred skin.

“My lord..” He whispers, his breath hot against Darien’s red ear, “Please, give me a chance.. I am no child..” His arms wrap themselves around his lord’s thick neck. His anklets chime again as he pulls himself to the tip of his toes, one of his bare legs hooks around Darien’s legs, who was staring at him with wide eyes and a red face.

Then Darien’s hands snap shut around Seren’s linen covered waist, his eyes darkening.

Seren’s smile widens. Finally.. He closes his eyes and lifts his head upwards, baring his throat and lips to him. Maybe Darien is truly like his brother, or maybe he’s rougher since he’s older..

He grins in his mind because he doesn’t want to show his teeth for a kiss. He is sure that Darien’s going to be soooooo much better than those rushed times in the asylum or his stables.. Even better than those romance love interests! Maybe he’ll drag him to their bed and cu—

Seren’s world tilts and he hears the chime of his anklets but also a grunt. His eyes snapped open and he was suddenly standing inside their room, near the maroon curtain, away from the sunlight  and Darien.

His lord is leaning against the railing, a vapor in his fingers. Seren glares at him with his two-toned eyes filled with tears before storming off, the anklets chiming harshly.