The carriage soon lurched to a stop.
Darius leaned forward, drawing breath to speak, but Xion was already up.
The door creaked open before the driver could descend from his perch. A sharp breath of cold air lunged in, stinging exposed skin.
Xion stepped down without waiting for a hand as he would usually do.
Waiting for Darius to lead him forward had changed from a need to a habit.
He had gotten so used to those hands cradling him that walking on his own felt foreign to him.
Behind him, there was a scrape of boots on the carriage floorboards before a sound of crunching snow.
Darius followed quickly — perhaps too quickly.
"Xion?"
The snow was deeper than he’d expected. Even though the guards had cleared it, it still reached above his ankles.
"Xion, wait—"
A hand reached for his arm. The grip strong enough to stop him if he wanted to.
Xion tried to take a step forward, and his toe caught the edge of a buried stone.
The jolt shot through him. He swayed, balance tilting away like a coin spinning toward its fall.
However, Darius was quick to take action.
"You will fall," the Archduke said, his hold slightly tightening on the thin arm.
And Xion actually pulled back.
Not with force. Just with a clean, slow movement, slipping free of that grasp like water.
"Don’t, Your Grace."
He didn’t turn toward Darius when he said it.
"I’m practicing," he added softly. "For the time when there’s no one to hold me up."
Then, he took a step forward, leaving one sentence.
"If you are so intent on dying, might as well start learning early."
Was Xion angry?
Yes, but not at the Archduke, actually.
He was angry that the Archduke had so easily tried to hurt himself. If Darius couldn’t see him hurt, didn’t that mean he, too, couldn’t bear it?
Or maybe in Darius’ eyes, his love was this superficial.
The snow didn’t make it easy for him. He had stumbled twice. Once, he went to one knee before pushing himself up again.
The wind dragged his hood forward, shadows tightening over his face.
Behind him, boots crunched against snow, slower than before. Darius was following him, but didn’t try to overtake him.
When Xion reached the castle’s great dark walls, he finally let his tense shoulders relax a bit. It was easier to walk with his hand trailing along the frozen stone.
They were cold. So cold they bit at his fingertips through the gloves.
It hadn’t even been twenty minutes, and much to Xion’s own frustration, he wanted to turn around. Yet he held that thought on a tight leash.
Just one turn and he might walk straight into those arms, bury his face against that chest, and cry.
Behind him, he could hear Darius’ short, uneven breaths. Like a man bracing for a blow he couldn’t see.
"Xion," the norther lord said again, lower this time.
When Xion didn’t reply, Darius let out a long sigh. In two big strides, he closed the gap between them.
It was so easy for him to hold that thin arm in his hand.
Xion froze, irritation written in the faint furrow of his brow.
"Don’t," he hissed, trying to get rid of the iron-like grip without turning back. "Let me go, Your Grace. Don’t you have some scheming to do? You should head to your meeting chambers."
Normally, Darius would have been quick to obey, agreeing to whatever Xion told him. But his patience had already been frayed to threads.
He could only obey when Xion wasn’t trying to turn away from him.
What did the world expect from him? To remain silent and let my baby leave?
That wasn’t possible. Not now, not ever.
With one yank, he pulled Xion back until the healer was in his arms. Chest against back.
Xion’s feeble struggle poured oil on the fire burning inside him.
Darius’ voice dropped to a deep, gritted growl as he leaned closer.
His nose brushed against Xion’s red ear as he said, "Try that again, baby, and I will kiss you right here, right now. In front of every guard on these damned steps!"
The words vibrated against Xion’s skin, sending a shock down his spine. His eyes widened slightly.
Not from fear, but from the sheer audacity of those words.
He had told Darius never to do anything like that in public. The archduke had agreed to it as to any other whims of his.
That was why the aggression and the meaning in those words had him stunned in place.
What the... The curse word was on the tip of his tongue when the system chimmed in.
[Oooh. Now this is interesting.]
The system’s tone was dripping with amusement. [Really like those Bl novels where mistakes always end in bed.]
Xion, "..." I want to beat two people now.
[Oh, I dare you to try him,] the system snickered in his head.
[And I also dare the guards to keep a straight face.]
Only then did he set Xion down on the bed, if dropping someone possessively could be called ’setting him down.’
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: [BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke