Into the Rose Garden Novel - Chapter 29

Stone buildings, aged by time, stood in a row facing a narrow road. The sun was high, but it struggled to assert its power against the towering five-story buildings. Only a sliver of light reached the street below.
The unremarkable wooden door, typical of any street bustling with carriages, was dark-colored, as heavy timber often is. A square copper plaque gleamed above the door.
[Office of Legal Professional K. Bendyke]
Aeroc’s hand, touching the heavy iron fitting, hesitated to knock. It had taken him a week to get here since he decided to visit. He had arrived on this street in the morning, before the mist had lifted, but it had taken him so long to climb the stairs that it was already close to noon. The carriage Aeroc had taken waited by the roadside, ready to take him back at any moment. Because of it, the road narrowed, and every coachman passing by frowned at him. Gentlemen and ladies passing on the narrow sidewalk also found Aeroc, standing hesitantly at the door, strange. It was less a suspicion of him being a suspicious character and more a curiosity about someone loitering in front of a famous lawyer’s office.
As time passed, more pedestrians came and went, and the frequency of glances directed his way also increased. Someone might recognize him. He had to make a decision quickly. Either grasp the polished doorknocker and strike it firmly, or quickly get back into the carriage and return to the mansion.
“Should I go back?”
In truth, he had wanted to return the moment he left the mansion. He wanted to finish reading the latter half of the book he had interrupted, while sipping strong tea in the library boasting an excellent collection. Or perhaps practicing the violin piece he had wrestled with all week would be good. If not that, going to an art gallery to see paintings and sculptures wouldn’t be bad. Even watching a terrible, low-quality play would be better than this.
Aeroc loved books. And music, and art. He adored and cherished every field that could be classified as art. Besides that, he also loved the historic rose garden that the Teiwind Count’s family boasted, and he cherished the banquets held there. There were many things Aeroc liked in the world, and few he disliked. The same was true for people. A day was not enough for friendly interactions filled only with goodwill. Therefore, today, when he had to meet the person he was most reluctant to face to do an unpleasant task, was a very unfortunate day.
“If you have a financially unmanageable problem, you should meet Kloff Bendyke.”
In the vast capital, among hundreds of thousands of people, Aeroc had heard from three different people that if there was a competent financial legal professional who could help him, it was none other than Bendyke. The Viscount Derbyshire, an elder who had been intimately associated with his late father and always offered wisdom, said so. Furthermore, Viscount Westport, his only relative in the capital, also mentioned Bendyke. The most surprising of the three recommendations was that of Marquis Ulfric. Beyond the recommendation, it was shocking that the Marquis was well acquainted with Bendyke. When had Ulfric and he become acquainted?
Although Bendyke was from a baronial family, he was the second son, so he held no title, and even if he were to receive a title due to family issues, it wouldn’t be significant. The Bendyke family had an estate in a very remote mountainous region, which, to put it nicely, meant they were frugal, and to put it harshly, poor. The family’s reputation was nonexistent. It was unknown how he came to associate with Marquis Ulfric, who was the closest collateral branch to the Imperial Family and enjoyed immense fame and wealth. Viscount Derbyshire, who had an innate talent for increasing assets, liked him so much that he even wrote a letter of introduction.
What on earth was so appealing about that man?
He finally lowered the hand that was about to grasp the knocker. No, today was not the day. It would be better to come back another time with someone else. He was just about to turn away. Suddenly, the door swung open. He was so startled he almost jumped in place. If it hadn’t been for his late father’s strict teachings, he might have screamed.
The person who opened the door was none other than Kloff Bendyke. He held the doorknob and said coldly,
“Stop bothering everyone and just come in.”
Startled, Aeroc let out a pathetic sound.
“How did you know I was here?”
“I’m not so insensitive as to not notice a carriage standing there all morning.”
A sneer flickered across the masculine face, with dark brown hair and a slight tan. The moment Aeroc noticed it, he wanted to shout that he would never again exchange words with a scoundrel like him as long as he lived. But Aeroc couldn’t. Instead, he found his legs moving on their own as he collected himself.
The man, who looked more like a soldier, or even a pirate captain, than a lawyer, allowed only the barest gap. As Aeroc stepped inside, the space between them narrowed. Aeroc was impeccably dressed in a shirt, vest, and jacket. Bendyke, who had just come from his office, was in a shirt and vest. Even with five layers of fabric between them, the radiant heat from the other man’s body caused Aeroc’s own temperature to rise. The skin of his face, without any barrier, stung with the heat. Unable to bear it, Aeroc was the first to turn his head.
“Excuse me.”
He said it with the intention of telling him to step back, but Bendyke did not move his sturdy body a single inch, like a stone gargoyle preying on troubled souls. Aeroc glanced up and saw a faint smile on his tightly closed lips.
(Damn it. I should have just passed by quickly without saying anything.)
Aeroc regretted it inwardly and quickly moved his steps. He tried to keep as much distance as possible, but the old-fashioned entryway was not capable of accommodating two alpha males simultaneously. His shoulder, wrapped in soft silk, brushed against the other’s chest. A person would naturally recoil, but he was like a solid rock, causing Aeroc to bounce off slightly. The contact was strangely vivid, sending a chilling tremor through his body.
Unlike Aeroc, who was like a glass struck by a silver spoon, the tall man showed no trace of agitation. This rude fellow, who knew no consideration beyond the bare minimum of courtesy, often resorted to deliberate provocations. Even now, as he closed the door, he deliberately stretched his arm over Aeroc’s shoulder. His shirt almost brushed Aeroc’s cheek.
Thud. Click.
Bendyke firmly locked the door. It was natural for a law office, with its many important documents, to be meticulous about security. However, to Aeroc, it felt like a wicked scheme to isolate him from the world. It was a neurotic imagination. That was how uncomfortable Aeroc was with this man, Kloff Bendyke.
“This way.”
Saying so, Bendyke merely extended his arm to indicate the direction, but did not lead the way. Aeroc was the Count Teiwind. Wherever and whomever he met, he received deep, heartfelt respect. Therefore, he had no memory of trailing behind anyone while passing through narrow passages. Yet, at this moment, he wished he were a laborer, not even a gentleman, so he could let Bendyke go first.
“Count?”
It was a simple address, without any honorific. Considering the difference in status, it was a very impertinent remark, but Aeroc missed the fleeting opportunity to argue. Pushed by an unspoken urge, he eventually had to go first. The short distance from the entrance to the office felt like a thorny path for a persecuted exile.
He hated the way the other man looked at him. To be precise, his lingering gaze, scanning his entire body, was unsettling. That gaze, as if opium had been kneaded into glue, had followed Aeroc from the moment they first met. Filled with ambition, it shamelessly licked at his private parts. It was so blatant that it felt like hostility.
As he entered the office, the door closed again. With just two doors closing, Aeroc was trapped in Bendyke’s domain. His breath grew short. His instincts tempted him to scream and run, but his reason, reminding him of his responsibility as the head of a family, chastised him not to be weak.
“Sit.”
The chair offered by the office owner was an armless, leather-wrapped chair. It was placed in front of a desk cluttered with ink bottles, pens, various leather notebooks, and thick books that appeared to be legal texts. Bendyke settled into the heavy chair behind the desk. He didn’t seem to have any intention of offering tea.
Aeroc perched on the chair, keeping his back as straight as possible. It was neither a situation to lean comfortably against the aged chair back, nor did being in the unwelcome alpha’s territory allow him to relax.
The man who had created the frozen atmosphere shifted his gaze to the documents on the desk, as if Aeroc were invisible. He even wrote something with pungent-smelling ink.
Scratch, scratch. Perhaps his large hand had a strong grip, for the sound of the pen nib scratching the paper was clear. It was a common quill pen, but the flamboyant feathers had been roughly cut off, making it sound like a knife being sharpened in the air. Lost in tension, Aeroc’s thoughts ceased, and he stared at it, mesmerized. He was afraid of that hand. That hand from which flowed the power to tear his body apart and grasp the very source of his life.
“Didn’t you come here to say something?”
A low voice roused Aeroc. The pen stopped, and sharp eyes stared at him. They were filled with blatant hostility. Aeroc involuntarily clenched his hands. If he hadn’t been wearing soft kid leather gloves, his profusely sweating palms might have left marks on his trousers.
“State your business quickly. I’m busy.”
The impatient tone was laced with annoyance. Aeroc’s face flushed instantly. He was not so placid as to be unbothered by such unrefined eye contact and demeanor. He felt thoroughly insulted. Yet, he couldn’t storm out because Aeroc was in such a desperate situation.
Aeroc intended to begin the conversation with gratitude and praise for the other party. Not because he liked Bendyke, but because it was polite. Usually, one would start by mentioning the tea and teacups served, or if that wasn’t possible, by discussing the weather. Leaving aside the tea, which the host had no intention of serving anyway, the office window was covered by curtains, making weather talk inappropriate. After some thought, he came up with a suitable topic.
“Your office is very… studious. Unexpected.”
It was not easy to praise an office crammed with legal books, documents, and the smell of ink and paper. He could have offered respectful praise as a scholar’s space, but since the owner was Bendyke, it took him a long time to utter even a single positive expression without special meaning.
“I don’t have time to beat around the bush with talk about an office you’re not interested in. We’re not meeting for intimate social interaction, are we?”
Bendyke furrowed his brow. He made no attempt to hide his slight displeasure. It seemed Aeroc had annoyed him. He briefly reflected, but his refined demeanor had committed no impropriety.
“What did you say?”
Just as he was about to retort, unable to bear it any longer, Bendyke tossed his pen aside and leaned back. The large-backed leather chair, unlike the guest chair, screeched noisily as it tilted back. Bendyke’s unusually broad shoulders appeared even wider.
“How much did you lose?”
He cut in immediately, giving no quarter. Caught off guard by the blunt question, Aeroc clamped his mouth shut and glared at the other man. Eyes as unfathomable as a hidden swamp in a dark, demonic forest pierced through Aeroc. He was no different from a beast struck by a poisoned arrow. His thighs involuntarily tensed.
“How rude.”
He retorted coldly. The self-proclaimed predator then subtly curled his lips into a smile.
“Considering you’ve come to a rude miser who knows no honor and only chases after money, your situation must be serious. Why waste time? There’s no need to prolong the sight of a disgusting human, is there? For both of us.”
He had once called him that. The pettiness of him remembering and using it now only intensified Aeroc’s disgust. And “for both of us”? How dare Kloff Bendyke, of all people, claim to despise Aeroc Teiwind? In an office that was nothing short of a demon’s lair, the one who could express disgust was not the demon, but Aeroc himself, who was in such dire straits that he had to shake the demon’s hand. He needed his wisdom, so Aeroc had shown the minimum courtesy of masking his rightful disgust with politeness, yet this rude fellow dared to pull him down to his level with the words “for both of us.”
It was an unbearable insult. Even if a major economic crisis had struck, it was unthinkable for someone who valued honor and dignity like himself to get involved with such a man.
“It seems this is not a matter for discussion with you.”
He stood up abruptly. He hadn’t even taken off his hat or gloves anyway. He could just turn around and leave.
Bendyke stroked his chin with his hand. His prominent nose bridge, strong jaw, and well-defined lips. To use them only for sneering was, if anything, a special talent.
“Are you running away?”
“Watch your mouth.”
His spider-web thin patience finally snapped. Aeroc revealed his hostility overtly.
“It was a mistake to come to a scoundrel like you in the first place.”
“That’s quite hurtful. As someone who is very pleased that the Count has come, I can only express my regret.”
In terms of sneering, that man was undoubtedly among the top in the capital, if not the entire empire. Dealing with him was foolish.
Aeroc immediately stormed out of the office. Or rather, he tried to, but he couldn’t properly unlock the door, only making clicking sounds, when Bendyke approached and unlocked it for him. Aeroc did not thank him.
Fortunately, the entrance door opened immediately with just a turn of the handle. He hurried down the short landing and jumped into the carriage.
“My lord?”
To the coachman’s question of what was wrong, he replied curtly, “To the mansion.” He closed the carriage door and sat on the seat, trying to calm his boiling insides. He cast his gaze out the carriage window, and naturally, the office window came into view. The semi-transparent cotton curtain was slightly parted, creating a gap. Through it, he saw him. That lingering, sticky gaze clung to him even from this distance.
“Hurry up and go!”
Aeroc urged the coachman.
“Giddy-up!”
The coachman’s voice, rousing the horses, echoed loudly. Clatter, clatter. The carriage began to move down the road. As it moved further away from the demon’s lair, his constricted breath eased, and his tension gradually relaxed. But the strange sense of humiliation, which had enveloped him from head to toe upon entering that space, continued to cause subtle tremors. That sensation was akin to sexual shame.
“Filthy bastard.”
With those words, Aeroc bit his lip, trying to expel the sensation that brought only shame and humiliation throughout his body. It was not an easy task.