That was the last straw.
Min-jae’s fist cracked across Veynar’s jaw with a sound like breaking stone. The man staggered back, cursing, blood spattering on his lips.
"You disgusting old bastard.." Min-jae spat, his chest heaving. "You think you can touch ? You think I’ll ever bow to filth like you?"
Veynar lunged again, but this ti Min-jae was ready. He drove his knee into his uncle’s gut, slamd his elbow into the back of his neck and sent him sprawling across the desk. Papers scattered like startled birds, ink spilling black across the wood.
Veynar groaned, clutching his ribs, his face twisted in fury and pain.
Min-jae stood over him, trembling not from fear, but from rage. His voice cutting like glass.
"Try it again and I’ll put you in the ground myself."
The study rang with silence,broken only by Veynar’s ragged breath.
Min-jae turned, yanked the door open, and walked out without a backward glance.
Min-jae’s chest still heaved as he strode through the corridors, his knuckles sore from the blow he’d dealt. Every step carried the phantom echo of Veynar’s touch, and he wanted nothing more than to scrub his skin raw.
But anger sharpened into purpose. He wasn’t here just to endure this bullshit. He needed to find Kaizar’s diary and get out of this sick place.
The familiar door lood at the end of the hall. He pushed it open.
The room slled faintly of cedar and old parchnt, untouched but not unlived-in. Shelves lined with books, a desk too neat to belong to soone carefree, and a bed that looked far too stiff to be inviting. Min-jae’s lips thinned. So this was Kaizar’s cage.
He went straight for the desk, pulling drawers open, rifling through papers, searching for a journal, a ledger...sothing.
"Looking for ghosts, are we?"
The voice was smooth, clipped, and so perfectly enunciated that it felt like silk laced with knives. Min-jae spun around.
An older man leaned against the doorfra, his silver hair immaculate, his suit pressed to perfection despite the odd jobs he had done earlier. He carried himself not like a servant but like a gentleman who had chosen servitude as a stage. His accent was refined, aristocratic, each syllable honed to precision.
"My lord.." Robert said with a respectful bow. "I trust the family council was... enlightening?"
Min-jae straightened, masking his thoughts. "...You could say that."
Robert’s lips quirked faintly, as though he knew better than to pry. "I thought as much. That is why I bring you news instead. You will find it more useful than their noise."
He stepped inside further, lowering his voice. "Your uncle t last week with Lord Harrand in secret. The subject was your... marriage. They consider it a stain, yes, but one that might be polished into advantage if maneuvered properly. They will try to use it."
Min-jae’s jaw tightened. "Of course they will." Lord Harrand was the Duke of Whechester. He’d have to get so information on that man.
Robert adjusted his gloves delicately, his eyes flicking to the desk where Min-jae had been rifling.
He didn’t comnt, only continued in his calm, informative tone. "Your cousins, too. One has written to the king’s envoy, whispering of family discord. Another..." His voice dipped, almost contemptuous. "Another sells your reputation in the gambling dens."
Min-jae let out a slow, controlled breath. Every word was another dagger thrown into his back by blood he hadn’t chosen.
Robert inclined his head. "Shall I continue digging, my lord? Or would you rather I clip certain tongues before they wag too far?"
Min-jae nodded, since he was no longer living here no one would suspect his relationship with Robert.
Robert bowed, lips pressed into a polite line. "Very good, my lord. I will begin at once. I’ll send word when I have more." He hesitated the barest second, an expression of sothing like worry tucked behind his composed mask then retreated down the corridor, the soft crunch of his polished boots fading away.
Min-jae let out a breath that felt more like a small animal escaping a trap.
Robert had barely slipped out the door when it opened again. Min-jae’s head snapped up, startled, but this ti it wasn’t Robert.
"Dorian.." he muttered, his shoulders tensing when he saw the person.
[[Warning: so disturbing scenes ahead ]]
Before he could take a step back, Dorian closed the distance, grabbing him by the chin and crushing his lips in a forceful kiss.
Min-jae eyes widened as he shoved at his chest, struggling, but Dorian only used his greater strength to haul him bodily toward the bed. The door slamd shut behind them, the lock clicking into place.
"Let go of !" Min-jae’s voice rose, his pulse hamring in his throat as Dorian threw him onto the mattress. His wrists were pinned before he could rise, the weight of his cousin pressing down on him.
"What the hell is wrong with you people?" Min-jae spat, his chest heaving. "Why are you all so obsessed with forcing yourselves on ?!"
Dorian’s grip tightened, his eyes burning with sothing between desperation and madness. He leaned closer, his breath hot against Min-jae’s ear.
"If you can take a man.." he hissed "why not ? Why him? Why ical? Because he’s governor? Because he’s powerful? You should’ve chosen . You should’ve loved .."
Min-jae froze, then let out a sharp laugh, it was bitter, cutting and scathing. His expression hardened into sothing colder than ice.
"Love you?" he repeated, his voice dripping with disgust. "You dare talk about love when all you’ve ever given is pain? You force yourself on , you sneer at , you look down on . And now you co here whining because I didn’t choose you?"
His eyes blazed with fury, his voice rising with each word.
"You don’t want my love, Dorian. You only want the thrill of violating your cousin. That’s all this is to you. And I hate you. I hate this entire damn family. Every one of you makes sick."
Dorian’s face twisted, but before he could answer, Min-jae bucked hard against him, his voice a raw snarl.
"If you don’t get off this instant, I swear to God — by tomorrow, you’ll be a dead man.."
Reviews
All reviews (0)