---
Louis' POV
I finally fell asleep.
When I woke up, the other side of the bed was empty — sheets cool, faintly scented with Alistair's cologne. He must have left early.
The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, pale and quiet. For once, the manor felt too still. No faint chatter, no movement in the halls, not even the usual clinking of silverware from the dining room.
I decided to take a bath instead of a shower — the jacuzzi, not the stall. I needed the silence, the heat, the illusion of calm. The water steamed around me, soft and white, but it didn't wash away the unease crawling in my chest.
By the time I got to breakfast, the silence had grown louder. The dining hall — usually filled with Alistair's humming or Charles's faint laughter — was empty. Just me, the maid, and the echo of my own thoughts.
I stirred my tea absently before finally asking,
"Where is Charles?"
The maid hesitated, eyes darting for a moment before she replied,
"Sir Charles has gone to a party… hosted by Miss Anna."
"Anna?" I repeated, setting my cup down. "Diana, perhaps?"
She shook her head quickly. "No, sir. Miss Anna. He left just after sunrise."
I nodded slowly, hiding the flicker of irritation behind a calm expression. Of course — Anna. That girl had always been a little too fond of chaos.
"And Alistair?" I asked next.
The maid's posture stiffened. "Sir Alistair is in the garden, sir."
I exhaled. "Tell him I'll speak to him before I leave. I have a trip today — make sure my luggage is prepared before ten o'clock. Ensure everything is ready."
"Yes, sir."
She bowed and hurried out, leaving me alone again with the faint ticking of the grandfather clock.
The stillness pressed harder this time — like the walls themselves were holding their breath. Something about the quiet didn't feel right. Charles at a party. Alistair in the garden. Me leaving for another mission.
For once, I wondered if the silence was peace… or a warning.
---
I walked to the garden. Unfortunately, I hated that place. The garden bore too many memories — the kind that never fade no matter how much you try to bury them. It was the first place Father disappointed me. The first place Mother cried.
That day was unforgettable. Father stood in the middle of the roses, his hands stained with fury. Mother and Charles were both on their knees, begging him not to continue. It was there — in that same garden — that he tried to choke me. To strangle me. Since then, the scent of flowers has always felt like poison.
But still, I had to go there. Because that's where Alistair was.
When I found him, he was bent over, admiring the flowers. They were pretty — but not as pretty as he was. Alistair was a delicate kind of beauty, the kind that made you forget the world's cruelty for a moment. He smiled when he saw me, and that smile was priceless.
"Louis, good morning. You've woken up," he said softly. "Could you spend the day with me?"
I smiled a little, but it was a weak one. "I can't," I told him.
His expression fell. "Why not?"
"I have an important meeting. Something urgent. I have to go to Elhurst," I said.
He looked at me with quiet disappointment. "Why today?"
"It wasn't planned," I lied. "The investors called suddenly. They need me."
I couldn't tell him the truth — that this wasn't a business trip, not in the way he imagined. The Alvaras never did just business. This was one of the dirty sides of it all, the kind of dealings that left blood on our hands and silence in our hearts.
And it wasn't just for a day. I would be gone for a month.
I hesitated, then said it anyway. "Alistair… I'll be gone for a month."
His eyes widened. The shock in them hurt more than I expected. He turned away, his disappointment clear, and for a moment, I almost wished he'd shouted instead.
"I'll bring you flowers when I come back," I said softly, trying to ease the silence between us. "Gifts too. I promise. And when I return, I'll spend a whole week with you — no work, no meetings. Just us."
But the truth was… it wasn't leaving Alistair that hurt most.
It was the thought of leaving without seeing Charles.
Because this time, I wasn't sure I'd come back the same.
---
Alistair looked at me for a while — quiet, unmoving. Then, without a word, he turned away.
I glanced at my wristwatch. 9:28.
There was still time.
Maybe I could spend the rest of the morning with him — even though the garden made me uneasy. The memories lingered in every petal, every breath of air, but Alistair's presence softened them a little.
I wondered what I could do to make the last few minutes count. For all my flaws, for all the things I couldn't give him, Alistair had always been kind to me.
He took a few steps closer, his eyes glimmering with hesitation. Then, before I could react, he tiptoed and tugged lightly at my collar, pulling my face closer to his.
"What are you—?" I began, but he didn't let me finish.
He kissed me.
It was brief, clumsy, and yet… warm. When he pulled back, I found myself staring at him in surprise — and, before I realized it, I smiled.
I leaned down and kissed him back.
But somewhere deep inside, I wished it had been Charles.
Even as my heart swelled with a strange kind of happiness, that thought stung. I didn't want to admit it, not even to myself. Because wanting Charles was dangerous. It was the kind of longing that could ruin everything — our family, our names, even him.
I couldn't let that happen.
Charles had to see me as the bad brother, the careless one. Not the criminal. Not the bloodstained demon who carried our family's curse.
That was why I chose Alistair. Because with him, I could pretend I was perfect — even if just for a while.
So I smiled brightly, forcing all my darker thoughts away. I focused only on him. On making him happy, at least for the few minutes I had left.
But Alistair, ever the worrier, didn't want me to leave unprepared. He insisted on helping me pack, dragging me along to supervise the maid I'd spoken to earlier. I let him — partly because it made him happy, and partly because… it was easier than thinking about the goodbye that was coming.