While the Marquis and his twins traded low laughs over their plans to dismantle Julian’s life, the target of their spite was drifting through a cold, restless dark.

Julian’s eyes felt heavy, his chest tightening with every breath as if an invisible weight were pressing down on his ribs. He fluttered his lashes, the world appearing in blurry, greyscale smears until a flicker of neon purple cut through the gloom. It hovered just inches from his face, a persistent, glowing rectangular warning.

> [WARNING: Relationship Status Critical]

> [Target: Marquis Astrea Affection Level: -1% (Mortal Enmity)

> Alert: The ’Paternal Bond’ has been severed. Target is now categorized as ’Antagonist.’

Julian stared at the screen for a long time, his breath hitching. He wasn’t particularly alarmed. If anything, he should have seen this coming the moment his father had created a ruckus and the prince and princess humiliated him.

He had traded a useless 1% for a negative value that finally matched the reality of his life.

He turned his head slowly, the movement sending a dull throb through his temples.

The room was silent, lit only by the soft, orange pulse of the fireplace. There, in the large armchair pulled close to the bedside, sat the Duke.

Alaric was fast asleep, his head resting back against the chair, and Lucius was tucked into the crook of his arm, the boy’s head pillowed on his father’s chest, both of them breathing in a slow, rhythmic harmony.

They looked like a true pair of father and son—a sight so starkly different from the toxic plotting currently happening at the Astrea estate. It was a comforting view, a small pocket of peace Julian had bled to protect.

But as Julian watched them, he felt his own strength trickling away like sand through an hourglass. His skin felt clammy, and a strange, metallic chill was settling in his marrow.

He swiped a weak hand through the air, summoning his internal status log.

> [System Log: Health & Vitality]

> Physical Integrity: 32% (Decreasing)

> Mana Circuit: Fragmented

> Condition: Severe Soul Strain

> Note: Host’s body is failing. Vitality depletion is accelerating rapidly.

[YOU NEED TO GET HEALED]

Julian stared at the last note. It looked like the system was truly warning him, telling him that if he delayed any longer, he could truly die.

Die before any plot from his father or the Emperor unfolds, die before the Duke could even confess.

He shut his eyes for a brief second. The Duke confessing... Now, that was something he hadn’t thought of.

But it was something he had to see coming.

With an affection level of eighty plus, and the things the Duke had done to him prior to that increase, a confession was not inevitable.

If the Duke confessed, what would he say?

Would he still be able to reject him after all of this?

After he had done so much for him.

He would want to accept him out of obligation, but that wouldn’t be sincere at all.

And then again, Julian felt the reason the Duke was so obsessed with him was because of the system’s interference.

So, he had some responsibility to take.

He pursed his lips and looked back at Alaric and Lucius.

Suddenly, his eyes met with the Duke’s, and he flinched.

Just now, he thought the Duke was sleeping, but his eyes were now wide open.

"Julian," he called with a soft tone, and Julian answered,

"Yes, Your Grace?"

His heart was pounding, not from the fever but from a ticklish thrill from the way the Duke called his name so tenderly.

Duke Alaric got up from the chair, holding on to Lucius firmly and carefully. The boy’s arm was bandaged, and Julian spotted it as soon as the Duke got closer.

He didn’t recall the bandage being there before he passed out. Did something else happen? He wondered, worriedly, but then recalled the Marquis had grabbed Lucius’s shoulder.

Was that it? 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

He bit the inside of his mouth, feeling even more useless.

If only he hadn’t been stuck on this bed because of his leg, he would’ve protected Lucius. Even if there was nothing he could do against his father and the knights, he would’ve definitely acted as a shield and protected the little one.

"What are you thinking about, Julian?" The Duke asked as he stopped in front of him. "Your brows are creased. Tell me your worries."

But Julian did not respond. He simply stared at the Duke, wondering what this man had been up to all day.

Did he get into a fight, did he meet the Emperor, and commit a treasonous act? Did he confront the Marquis after discovering Lucius was hurt?

He wanted to know everything... wanted to know to what length this man would go.

The Duke brought his hand down and smoothed the crease on Julian’s forehead.

"You’re not hurting, are you?" he asked, his voice still soft and tender. To think such a deep voice could send comfort through Julian’s body... he never thought he’d see the day.

He relaxed his face in the Duke’s touch, closing his eyes to feel the warmth that came with his calloused hand.

The Duke saw this and actually flinched.

He might not have expected Julian to respond that way, so it took him by surprise.

"H-Hold on," he said and took his hand back, leaving a lingering sense of dissatisfaction in Julian.

He wanted to feel his warmth for longer.

As soon as this thought crossed Julian’s mind, he froze. What... How... Why did he think of such a thing?

His face heated up, and his heart hammered in his chest. It goes without saying that Julian also held some sort of feelings towards the Duke, one he had very much liked to stay oblivious to.

But he couldn’t see himself doing that now, not after all that had happened, not after the Duke had practically declared a silent war on his behalf.

He watched the Duke position Lucius on the bed, tucking the child in and making sure he didn’t look uncomfortable in the slightest.

And then, he turned around and came to Julian’s side, sliding the chair quietly to the closest he could get and then sat down.

The Duke sat there, his eyes warm and soft as they stared at Julian’s unmistakably flushed face.

What was Julian thinking? He wondered.

"Julian," he called, his voice as warm as a midday sun on a snowing day. "Do you know...," he began, and Julian listened to his own racing heart, trying to figure out if this was the legendary confession. But the words that came next were something Julian had not expected. "... I am not a good person," he said, the warmth in his eyes falling into something estranged, something desolate, and something fearful as he looked down at his interlocked hands resting on his knee. "But even then," he said, and finally raised his gaze. "Will you try to run from me?"