"Why are you here, My Lord?" Ren asked.

"Why? Can I not visit my new friend?" Zayden said, forcing a bitter smile.

Ren’s heart raced. He wanted to say something—anything—but his mouth felt dry. His body still felt... exposed, and he could feel the remnants of his earlier heat pulsing through him. Yet being called a friend—that one word—quieted something inside him, even if only for a moment.

"I-Of course you can. I simply didn’t know we were ’friends.’"

"Have you forgotten our conversation already?" Zayden teased softly.

Ren shook his head, his fingers brushing a few strands of his hair, curling them nervously. Zayden... his friend? The thought alone brought a faint, almost shy smile to his lips.

Maybe this wasn’t a bad thing. Perhaps if they truly became friends, he could find a way to explain everything—slowly, carefully—before Zayden stumbled upon the truths he had been hiding all this time.

For now, that was enough.

"Hmm?" Zayden hummed, waiting for an answer.

The omega’s gaze flickered up instantly.

"I-I haven’t."

"Why are you stammering? Are you cold?" Zayden frowned, turning toward the fireplace.

The flames were too low to keep the room warm for a human. He snapped his fingers, and the fire flared higher, warmth filling the space.

"I wasn’t cold..." Ren mumbled. Yet the warmth did stop him from shivering. It was as if Zayden knew Ren better than he knew himself.

"...Thank you," he said finally, his voice low.

Zayden turned slightly, brow lifting. "For what?"

Ren hesitated. His fingers twisted at the edge of the blanket, clutching the fabric like a lifeline.

"For... staying," he murmured. "And for not letting anyone in."

Zayden blinked, caught off guard. He hadn’t expected gratitude—not from someone like Ren, who kept his emotions locked away so carefully.

He looked away, scratching the back of his neck as if unsure how to respond. "You don’t have to thank me for that. I just—did what anyone would’ve done."

Ren’s lips curved faintly. "Not everyone would’ve."

Silence followed. A comfortable kind of silence, for once.

Zayden’s gaze softened, almost fond. "You really are strange, Ren."

"Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment."

"Oh?" Zayden chuckled softly. "I didn’t know you could talk like this, Ren."

Ren looked at him and blinked.

"You said we were friends. Was that a joke?.."

"Of course not!" The General shook his head.

Zayden’s reaction made Ren blink again. The way he shook his head so quickly, almost panicked, was... oddly endearing.

"I just meant—" Zayden cleared his throat, straightening his posture like he’d been caught off guard by his own honesty. "I don’t joke about things like that."

Ren stared at him for a second too long, unsure whether to laugh or look away. His heart gave a quiet thud against his ribs.

"I see," he said softly. "Then... I’ll remember that."

Zayden coughed, rubbing the back of his neck again. "Good. You’d better."

An awkward silence settled between them, neither knowing what to say next. Ren’s eyes darted to the floor, then to the window, then back to the man still standing near his bed.

"You can sit, you know," he said quietly. "You’ve been standing for a while."

"I’m fine," Zayden replied quickly. Too quickly.

Ren raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You look uncomfortable."

Zayden crossed his arms, trying to appear composed. "I’m not uncomfortable. I just... don’t usually sit on other people’s beds." He lied. How could he sit so close to him? What if he accidentally attacked him, hurt him?

Ren blinked, his lips twitching slightly. "You sound like a child afraid of breaking something."

Zayden frowned, pretending to be offended. "I am not that heavy. I am just being respectful."

"Right." Ren hid his smile behind the blanket. "Respectful."

For a moment, Zayden stared at him—then they both laughed quietly, the faint sound filling the room.

Ren paused, watching the young man laugh. Maybe... being friends for now wouldn’t be so bad after all.

"Oh, right. The royal physician." Zayden turned to leave the room.

"My Lord, I am alright," Ren said quickly, raising his hand to stop him from leaving.

Standing at the doorframe, Zayden glanced back. "I’ll be right back," he said, flashing a bright grin.

Ren’s hand dropped once the door clicked shut behind the General. He still couldn’t quite believe it—they had become friends.

The only friends he’d ever known were Henry and Loti, and a few kind faces in the mansion. But this... this was different.

A friendship that made his heart quicken for countless reasons but he knew one far too well. Perhaps it was because of what it could lead to—Zayden, who might forgive him one last time for the sake of this friendship. But that wasn’t all. He was the first person after Ilyan who listened to him. And the first person to whom he opened up to after years. He felt safe around Zayden for some reason. Or was it because the General had saved him countless time?

He clasped his hands together, like a silent prayer.

Please. Don’t let this friendship break too.

At this point in his life, Ren had grown used to losing people. He was tired of it now. To the point that despite not believing in Gods, he was willing to pray to not lose anything he obtained so far.

***

Zayden knocked on the door as soon as he arrived. He’d left a guard stationed three meters away—far enough so they wouldn’t catch Ren’s pheromones and mistake them for a threat.

He still couldn’t quite believe it.

Ren had accepted his offer to be friends.

He’d said it casually, almost teasingly—but for someone like Ren not to shut him out, not to grow tense or upset, was... rare.

Behind him stood the elderly royal physician, a faint grin tugging at his wrinkled face as he studied the General he’d known for decades.

He had seen Zayden face war, fire, and betrayal, but never with such worry in his eyes.

Who could inspire this kind of concern from him?

And for him to knock before entering...

A faint "Come in" broke the silence, and the door swung open.

Zayden stepped aside, letting the physician enter only after confirming that Ren was properly dressed. His gaze flicked briefly to the floor—the discarded clothes from earlier were gone.

Of course they were.

Ren always cleaned up after himself. After him, too.

Like a spell programmed to repeat its duty again and again.

Zayden’s chest tightened.

He truly hates it, doesn’t he?

He clenched his fists. What if all this time, Ren was mad at him for doing all these? It wasn’t like he could control it.

But still...

"Oh, it’s you," the physician said softly, dragging a chair closer to the bed and settling into it.

Ren looked at Zayden, his expression clearly stating: I don’t need a physician.

Zayden shook his head, pressing his finger on his lips, signaling him to keep quiet.

Watching their silent conversation, a chuckle almost escaped the physician.

How adorable.

The elderly man grinned.