Into the Rose Garden Novel - Chapter 5 Love again

The bed, made from sturdy wooden planks with a little cotton stuffed in and wrapped in well-worn calico, was surprisingly cozy. Compared to the stone floor, it was as soft as air, and most importantly, it lacked the bone-chilling cold. So, even when Aeroc opened his eyes, he didn’t want to leave this warm pile of blankets.

Aeroc turned onto his side and pulled the thick blanket closer. As his head tilted slightly due to the low pillow, his lower back, which had been pressed down all night, was relieved of pressure, causing him to gasp and groan as if his breath had been cut off. He pulled his neatly folded legs in a bit and lowered his head. It was a posture commonly adopted by someone else who shared this room with Aeroc.

Through his slightly blurry vision, he saw clothes draped over a chair. They were different from the ones he had torn before. They were still too small, so he couldn’t wear them to sleep. Now that his body had filled out, they were even more uncomfortable. It was so hard to properly wear the tight-shouldered clothes that he tore them several times, and his cheeks bore red marks a few more times. Until he later obtained a needle and thread to mend and sew his own clothes, the frustration that couldn’t be resolved by physical blows eventually erupted in other ways.

After the first beating, Kloff visited Aeroc about once a week, and for whatever reason, their meetings always led to beatings. After this had been repeated several times, and he had become accustomed to the pain, barely letting out a groan, forced sexual intercourse began.

Aeroc’s body, which had been regularly fed vegetables and bread since coming to the hut, was no longer as gaunt as before, but it was still too emaciated to receive an Alpha’s member without any foreplay. His body, startled by the violence that made him momentarily lose consciousness, couldn’t produce enough lubrication and often tore. It hurt so much that he bit his lips until they bled. Sometimes, he scratched the bed or the hut floor until splinters got under his fingernails.

But it was better than being assaulted by many in the barn. This time, it was just one person, and only one entered at a time. Although he was very rough, at least Aeroc could feel a faint satisfaction seeing the other person grimace and reach a physiological climax.

“Do you enjoy being treated like this?”

Kloff scoffed coldly and got up. As the hot thing inside him exited, a chill immediately enveloped his body. He pulled the sheet to wipe away the blood and semen, then straightened his clothes. And then, without looking back, he left.

A moment later, Aeroc closed his legs, which were spread open like meat hanging in a butcher shop, and wiped the fluids flowing between them onto the sheet. He didn’t know how many times they had been intimate. At this rate, his heat would come soon, and he might get pregnant again.

Outside, he had been so afraid, but now it was completely different. Thinking of it as Kloff’s child made his heart beat a little faster. If he became pregnant, Kloff wouldn’t hit him. Instead, he would become very gentle. Recalling Kloff’s appearance, who, despite hating the mother, couldn’t help but show affection for the child within, Aeroc wished he could become pregnant.

Before his first heat since returning had completely passed, Kloff visited the hut again, and soon after, Aeroc conceived his third child.

Aeroc now stroked his noticeably swollen belly. This was the most dangerous period. The previous three times, he hadn’t made it past this stage, and the barely human-shaped things were sent down the river. He didn’t want this child to become another fallen petal. Unlike last time, this child, whose father he at least knew, was still growing safely.

When Aeroc announced the pregnancy, Kloff frowned and lowered the hand he had just raised. Instead, he grabbed Aeroc by the collar, threw him onto the bed, and like a farmer checking a mare’s or cow’s pregnancy, he knelt, pressed down on the back of Aeroc’s neck, pulled down his pants, and inserted his fingers inside.

Aeroc closed his eyes at the dry foreign sensation, gripping the sheet with his hands and twisting his body slightly, but when Kloff said coldly, “Stay still,” he truly stopped moving as if dead. The long, strong fingers groped the inner wall, searching for the slightly swollen opening of the vaginal canal. Once he confirmed it was smoothly and tightly closed, his fingers withdrew, and Aeroc, who had been holding his breath, finally let out a ragged exhale.

“A born slut, there’s no helping it. I can’t believe such a creature was an Alpha.”

“You made me that way.”

It wasn’t a remark with any special intent. But the gaze that pierced the back of his head was hot enough to burn his skin. Aeroc pulled up his pants and got up. He hadn’t deliberately avoided it, but somehow he couldn’t look at Kloff. The tall Alpha wiped his fingers on the dirty sheet, which was covered in traces of their intimacy, and then left just as he had entered.

Afterward, the servant who regularly brought groceries began to bring meat and eggs in addition to potatoes, vegetables, and bread. Aeroc was pleased to see it. It wasn’t just because of the meat and eggs. The immediate change in groceries upon his pregnancy signaled that Kloff’s attitude would also change slightly. As expected, he visited Aeroc once a day. Even if he uttered cold words and gave indifferent glances, he no longer hit him.

Aeroc got up and reached for his clothes. The baggy maternity dress was fine elsewhere, but the shoulders were so narrow that he had no choice but to rip them open and sew on another piece of fabric. His sewing was so clumsy, without any skill, that it formed wrinkled pleats, making it look like a clown’s frill.

“To walk around looking like that as a noble. I would have wanted to die of shame.”

That was Kloff’s comment when he saw it before. He didn’t actually mean he would die, of course. He was just throwing back words that Aeroc might have said somewhere in the past. Aeroc wasn’t particularly ashamed. Too much had happened for him to blush over a mere outfit now. He merely let out a small chuckle at Kloff, who remembered such trivial things, and at himself, who understood his intentions perfectly.

Wearing the ridiculous clothes, he got up from the bed and ate some roasted meat and boiled eggs with raw carrots from the day before. Whenever he boiled eggs, they would crack somewhere, and the yolk would turn bluish. He usually preferred soft-boiled eggs, but such delicate cooking was still difficult for Aeroc. For him, who still had a small scar on his forehead from when he put an egg directly into a hot stove and the shell exploded, simply boiling an egg was a great achievement.

Although it was regrettable that the whites had burst out through cracks, it was easier to peel with his weak fingers, so he always chose those first. Today, however, only the smooth ones remained. He wanted to eat the smooth whites, but the egg he cracked on the corner of the table immediately became a messy mash.

After licking the yolk stuck to his hands and digging out the whites clinging to the shell with his fingertips, the entire table was a mess. His clothes, stained with a few drops of juice from the half-burnt meat, were also covered in stains. As he brushed them off, his eyes accidentally fell on the bed. The sheets, caked with all sorts of bodily fluids, looked particularly dirty. It would be better to live cleanly, even in clown clothes. Dirty clothes and a bed wouldn’t be good for the baby. Should he do laundry today?

His considerably heavier belly wasn’t so much a hindrance to movement. After a hearty breakfast, Aeroc rolled up his sleeves and gathered all the bedsheets, pillowcases, and discarded clothes into one armful, dragging them under the hand pump. Then he washed them with all his might. It was a much better situation than when he used to do it by the river, but he still struggled because he didn’t know how to do it properly. He diligently applied soap and kneaded them with his hands. He spent all day soaking his hands and feet in cold water, kneading and rinsing.

Before he knew it, his clothes were drenched, he was very hungry, and when he lifted his back, which had been bent over, he even felt dizzy. He managed to wring the sheets with his reddened hands, then laid the heavy, damp fabric over a low shrub growing nearby, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

It was already afternoon. Before doing the rest of the laundry, Aeroc ate boiled potatoes and vegetables, and then, looking at the empty bed, suddenly realized: Since he had washed all the blankets, what would he cover himself with tonight?

He tried to imagine positively that the blankets would dry before sunset, but even after the sun went down, water was still dripping from them. The other clothes he had taken out while washing the blankets were also soaking wet, so there was nothing suitable to layer. Why had he foolishly washed both the cover and the under-sheet at once? Idiot. Regret was now Aeroc’s constant companion. He even thought it was remarkable that he himself could feel regret over such trivial matters, and he curled up as much as possible, rubbing his cold hands and feet together, trying to fall asleep.

He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but when he suddenly came to, it was late at night. He had definitely slept without a blanket, but his body was so hot he was sweating, and at the same time, his head ached terribly. Conversely, his hands and feet were so cold they were trembling. He seemed to have caught a cold. It was perhaps an obvious result, having been soaked in cold water and doing heavy labor during the day, then shivering through a cold night without a blanket.

His trembling knees even clattered against the hard wooden bed. It had been a long time since he had been this sick. Outside, he didn’t have the luxury of being sick. The fear of not knowing where or how he might end up if he lost consciousness and succumbed to illness drove away even the pain. That’s why he walked around even with a body that had just given birth to a bloody lump. Compared to that, this was a place where he could afford to be sick. And the person who would enter through that door was someone Aeroc would give everything to. There was no need to be on guard. He breathed hot, ragged breaths, casting his gaze toward the door even in the indistinguishable darkness.

He hadn’t come yet today. What could have happened? As a highly capable investor and now a trusted economic official, he must have many busy things to do. With two children already, a third child from a long-standing, ill-fated connection, whose origins were unknown, might not mean much to him. Nevertheless, the waiting was unavoidable.

He listened quietly, unable to tell if his eyes were open or closed. The sound of wind rustling through the rose garden, the distant rustle of cedar branches, the mournful whistle of the cypress trees. Amidst them, he hoped to hear footsteps.

“Hey, wake up.”

His body swayed from being poked. He managed to lift his eyelids, heavy as if a giant statue had been placed on them, and saw a blurry silhouette. Ah. You.

“Don’t act like you’re dying.”

A cold remark dropped his body temperature another degree. Despite his efforts, his vision automatically closed, sinking back into darkness, and a cold sigh fell into his dull ears. When he exhaled a hot breath through his slightly chapped lips, he clicked his tongue.

“You washed all the blankets when the temperature dropped. Was that on purpose, or are you just foolish? You weren’t trying to put on airs just because you’re pregnant, were you? The fireplace isn’t just for show.”

He tried to say he had tried to light it, but his voice wouldn’t come out properly. Amidst his mumbling, a small curse and something heavy covered his body. It was a man’s coat, cool and smooth to the touch, and somewhat heavy. It was also very large. The high-quality garment, which enveloped Aeroc’s entire body like a blanket, carried a bitter, earthy scent.

Aeroc instinctively curled up further, breathing in the fabric filled with that scent. With each inhale, the fragrance filling his lungs calmed his stomach, which was churning with fever. Was it because he was the father of the child in his belly? Or perhaps it was simply because he was the Alpha with whom he had spent his heat. Either way, the Alpha’s scent gave a warm sense of security to an Omega whose emotions were in disarray due to pregnancy and high fever.

He didn’t leave immediately after throwing the coat. Instead, he fiddled with various things over at the table. He seemed to be checking the fireplace. With a clang as the poker hit the floor, a sharp criticism was heard.

“You can’t even light a fire without being waited on. Useless.”

Half-asleep, Aeroc hugged himself with both arms and curled up a little more. He thought he could light the fireplace easily since he knew how to light a stove. He moved his feverish body, brought in three or four heavy logs from outside, and tried to light a fire several times. But no matter how many times he struck a match or flint, the hard logs wouldn’t catch fire, and even when he managed to get a small flame, only acrid smoke billowed before it soon died out. He stopped when he felt like he was suffocating from the smoke.

Footsteps sounded, then the door opened and closed. And the footsteps grew fainter. He seemed to be leaving.

Aeroc pulled the coat he was wearing even higher, burying his nose in the collar, which was heavily imbued with his scent. He rubbed his cheek against it like a baby. He had no pride. He was simply relieved by his Alpha’s scent. Still, it was a relief that he had given him the coat.

Even though he spoke harsh words, he clearly couldn’t ignore the situation for the sake of the fetus. He was that kind of person.

He wanted the child. No matter what happened to Aeroc, he always cared about the child. This time too, he would surely take the child away as soon as it was born, before any dirty hands could touch it. Thinking of that day, whenever it came, felt like a hollow wind tunnel opening in his chest. He wished he could at least see its face once.

Ah. The fever must be making him think such absurd thoughts. No matter how he looked at it, it would be better for the child to grow up as the son of a fine noble in a warm, clean mansion than to grow up as a criminal’s child in this chilly hut.

Despite it being just a coat, Aeroc felt incredibly warm and fell into a deep sleep. Later, it became so warm that he even sweated slightly, tossing and turning in his sleep and having to pull the coat down a bit. The cold night air was definitely warm.

This couldn’t be. It was always a desolate, cold hut, so what was happening?

There was the pleasant crackling sound of dry oak burning and a bitter, earthy smell. He forced his eyes open. The fireplace, which had been full of dust, was burning red.

Who?

The door opened, and a familiar person entered. He rolled up his sleeves and brought in the damp blankets that had been hanging outside, spreading them in front of the fireplace. Unaware that Aeroc was awake, he went to the kitchen next door. Soon, sounds of things being moved were heard. The hut was so small and quiet that he could even hear Kloff muttering curses to himself. Though he couldn’t distinguish them well, it was probably something about how even dog food was better than this.

Suddenly, Aeroc felt embarrassed. This feeling was probably not much different from what Raphael had felt before. Unlike that gentle and kind person, there was no one here to kiss Aeroc’s chapped fingers. He instinctively hunched his neck. At times like this, he should stand taller, but now he just wanted to hide in the cozy coat.

A moment later, there was a clatter from the kitchen, and Kloff came out with a dirty pot he had washed. He pulled one of the two chairs that were part of the table set, the one that was always in its place and unused, unlike the one near the bed, and sat by the fireplace. He picked up a small lump from the pot he had placed on the floor and began to peel it with the knife he held in his hand. It was a potato.

Unlike Aeroc, who would cut a finger with every potato he peeled, Kloff, with his large hands, peeled skillfully. The pretty, smooth potato, illuminated by the red glow of the fireplace, looked very appetizing. He quickly peeled one and picked up another. The movement of his long fingers touching the potato, which glowed a pale orange in the light, was like a craftsman handling amber. It was incredibly delicate and graceful.

So strong and fierce hands could move like that.

Aeroc peeked at him, mesmerized, from behind the collar of his coat.

A moment later, Kloff, having finished peeling the potatoes, took the pot back into the kitchen. Aeroc was very disappointed, wishing he could have watched his fingers a little longer. After some time, Kloff hung a pot containing not only potatoes but many other things over the fireplace. He wondered what he was doing, and soon, with a mouth-watering smell, soup began to simmer. Kloff skillfully stirred it with a ladle, and then placed the finished soup on the table.

Surprisingly, there was no burnt smell at all. When Aeroc cooked, it was always half-burnt and half-undercooked. Whenever he tried to boil vegetables, they would usually turn into mush.

Kloff went out, brought in more logs, and placed them near the fireplace. He touched the blankets, then gathered them and came over. Aeroc instinctively closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. Soon, the warm coat was whisked away. He shivered from the sudden chill, and then a rustling blanket was laid over him. Although it had been washed, it was still full of stains because it was so dirty, but it had a faint scent of soap. It was larger and thicker than the coat, covering even his cold toes, but somehow he still thought the coat was warmer.

Having finished all his errands, Kloff left the hut. Aeroc wondered if he would return, but after a long time, the door didn’t open. Finally, realizing the disappointing reality that he wouldn’t see him again today, Aeroc pulled down the blanket a little and got up.

Disappointment. He didn’t know why he was so whiny today. It was probably because he was hungry. Hugging his empty stomach, he got up and walked to the table. When he opened the lid of the pot Kloff had left, white steam rose with a very appetizing smell. He had calmed down a bit while covered by the coat, but he still had a slight fever and a chill in his back, so he wrapped himself in the blanket and went to the kitchen to get a spoon. He briefly considered bringing his usual chair but carefully climbed onto the chair Kloff had sat on. Then he pulled the hot pot closer and ate the still-hot soup.

“It’s delicious.”

It was so delicious that he unconsciously spoke to himself. He looked closely, but there were no special ingredients anywhere. How could it be so different? Aeroc began to devour the soup. He had always eaten little, but perhaps because he had missed meals while ill, he forgot that the soup was burning his palate and ate directly from the pot until the bottom was visible.

As far as Aeroc remembered, there was no talk of Kloff being a good cook. He had lived in a boarding school and even when life was a little difficult after graduation, he could still afford lodging. Perhaps he learned to cook during the time he wandered after losing his wife and children.

What could have happened? But Aeroc had no way of knowing now. And even recalling old memories of eating many rare foods, he was so engrossed in eating the soup, which was undeniably among the best, that he quickly forgot all other thoughts.