Ren had repeatedly told himself he wouldn’t get up early, and wouldn’t prepare anything for Zayden’s hangover before falling asleep. Yet the first thought that came to him upon waking was exactly that.

He looked out the window. The swirling snowstorm from last night had vanished, as if neither the storm nor the words Zayden had whispered into the dark ever existed.

Slipping into the slippers provided by the inn, he stepped out of the blanket and neatly arranged it at the edge of the couch before leaving the room.

Once downstairs, the smell of freshly baked cake reached him. A faint grin tugged at his lips. He could prepare a simple sandwich for Zayden—he always preferred a light breakfast.

"My, isn’t it the General’s little servant?" The inn owner sneered, his eyes dragging slowly from Ren’s head to toe. "Hmm... you’re pretty. An omega, I assume?"

Ren didn’t answer. It was best to ignore people like him—unnecessary, intrusive, and far too curious.

"Are you ignoring me? I was the one who—"

"We already paid you," Ren cut in smoothly, turning toward him with a polite, practiced smile that didn’t reach his eyes. It was the kind of smile that warned rather than welcomed.

"Hmph!" Crossing his arms, the owner walked away.

Ren rolled his eyes and reached for a cup placed on the table.

"May I make the tea myself?" he asked evenly.

"Oh dear! Why trouble yourself with that?" the cook exclaimed, wiping his hands on his apron as he glanced over.

"Well..." Ren hesitated for a moment, then gave a faint smile. "The General likes my tea, I suppose."

He stirred the sugar into the cup, the quiet clink of the spoon filling the brief silence.

"Here you go!" The lady extended the tray with two plates, each containing honeymoon eggs—soft, golden yolks nestled over lightly toasted bread, sprinkled with herbs and a hint of melted butter.

"Thank you," Ren said, balancing the tray carefully before heading upstairs. The scent of warm eggs and tea trailed faintly behind him as he climbed the steps.

When he reached their room, he nudged the door open quietly but the creak betrayed his intention.

Zayden was already awake, sitting on the bed with his hands pressed against his temples, his hair slightly dishevelled from sleep.

Ren blinked, a little surprised.

"My Lord," he called softly, stepping inside. "You already woke up?"

The General sprang to his feet as if he had seen a ghost. He quickly rushed toward him, but Ren sidestepped with ease, walking past him.

"Careful," Ren said softly, setting the tray down on the wooden table.

Zayden parted his lips but closed them just as quickly. A dozen questions burned at the tip of his tongue; Where did you go? Why didn’t you leave a note? But he swallowed them down when his gaze fell on the breakfast.

He went out just to get breakfast. For no one else but them.

Right. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

He exhaled slowly.

I should be careful. Careful not to say stupid things.

His jaw tightened. Zayden’s fists were clenched when Ren finally spoke, breaking the brief stillness in the room.

"You shouldn’t skip breakfast," the servant said, pouring tea into the cup beside the plate. "It helps with the headache."

Zayden blinked, slightly thrown by the casual tone.

"Why do you look surprised? Isn’t your head hurting?" Ren stepped closer to take a better look at him. His hand rose to the taller man’s forehead to check for a fever. After all, they had stayed outside for a long time. The thought hadn’t occurred to him until now because he had never seen Zayden get sick before.

"...You’re not mad?" Slowly reaching for the warm hand on his forehead, Zayden asked hesitantly.

Ren looked up, his silver hair catching the light.

"For what?" He withdrew his hand once he confirmed that Zayden’s temperature was normal.

"For last night," Zayden said quietly. "For saying things I shouldn’t have. For—"

"You were drunk," Ren interrupted, his voice calm but not cold. "And even if you weren’t..." He paused, inhaling before continuing, "Pain doesn’t always wait for the right time to come out. It simply does. And we are unable to control it."

He returned to the table and stirred his tea once, the spoon clinking against the porcelain.

"I understand that much, My Lord. And even if I had very few friends, I know that as your friend, as you said," he hesitated for a moment, "I should not judge you."

The General stared at him, the tension in his shoulders easing.

"Ren..."

The servant didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, he pushed one of the plates toward Zayden.

"I once told someone I’d protect them too," Ren said, his tone quiet and even. "And I couldn’t." His gaze dropped to the table. "So, if you think that makes you weak, then... I suppose I am too."

Zayden froze.

Ren continued, still not looking at him, "We’re both alive. That’s enough punishment, don’t you think?"

A soft, dry laugh escaped his lips. It wasn’t funny, but he felt the need to say that to lighten the mood.

Silence filled the space for a moment—not uncomfortable, but peaceful. Zayden could almost hear the unsaid words between them, the kind that didn’t need to be spoken to be understood.

Ren finally met his gaze, the faintest trace of warmth softening his usually distant expression.

"Eat before it gets cold," he murmured, sitting opposite him.

Zayden watched him quietly. For the first time, Ren’s presence didn’t feel like that of a servant performing duty, but as a person who truly had opinions of his own. Someone he could rely on.

He took a bite of the toast, his eyes twinkling upon tasting it.

"T-This is good!" He blinked, looking up at Ren.

The servant also took a bite, not believing him—only to give a small nod afterward, equally surprised by the softness and the rich, buttery, creamy taste.

"Right. I thought they charged us too much for just one room and two meals but... this is good."

Zayden stared at him for a little too long, then suddenly burst into laughter, surprising Ren.

"W-Why are you laughing?"

Barely able to compose himself, Zayden said, "You look adorable."

Ren didn’t answer, but a hint of deep red appeared on his cheeks, reaching his ears. He thought he could ignore it, but somehow, he was never prepared—and always became flustered—whenever Zayden complimented him.

Why is he always... So unpredictable?

He sighed, trying to cover his flushed cheeks with one hand while he kept chewing his food.

Zayden grinned, enjoying his reaction. Last night, he thought he couldn’t wait.

But maybe he didn’t need to wait long. Ren was already opening up.

And maybe, soon, he too, would feel the same way...