Into the Rose Garden Novel - Chapter 8 Blue-blooded

This time, if he were abandoned, he truly had nowhere to go. He tried especially hard not to act arrogantly, unlike during his second pregnancy. He didn’t lash out at the servants who brought him food, nor did he starve. He tried to live as quietly and docilely as possible.

However, since it was something he had never done in his life, nothing was easy. While peeling potatoes, he cut his hand so many times that it seemed he would make soup with his own blood. While doing laundry, he tore holes in his clothes in several places. It took him all day to light the stove fire in the kitchen, and sometimes he bumped his head while cleaning, getting a lump. Still, he managed to accomplish something, however clumsily.

Once a day, Kloff would visit. He would silently look around the inside and outside of the shack, checking if Aeroc was alright. While Kloff inspected his property to see if it had survived the night, Aeroc, too nervous to speak, just stood and observed Kloff.

No matter when he saw him, he was as beautiful as a hero from Northern mythology. He had an ascetic demeanor and intellectual features, yet he was robust like an Alpha and knew how to embrace passionately during the rut. Though many things had happened, making him sometimes fearful and sad, he was still happy. Sometimes, when their eyes met, he would offer an awkward smile. Then Kloff would frown, seemingly displeased, and glare.

“Shameless…”

He knew well enough what Kloff was trying to call him, even without hearing it. There was a time when Aeroc, filled with jealousy, had openly rebuked Kloff, saying that if he had no pride, he was not human but a worm. It seemed he had said that when Kloff, then his fiancé, had stepped in and faced trouble on behalf of his beloved wife, whom Aeroc had tried to torment.

To remember all of that, he truly had a good memory.

Aeroc just smiled.

As his body slightly improved while living in the shack, mild ruts returned even during his pregnancy. When he stayed at the mansion, he would throw himself, disheveled, into the arms of a cold man, but now that was not an option. In a place where no one was around, Aeroc spent his time alone, gripping his fully erect member and probing his wet parts with his fingers.

But it brought no relief at all. His stamina was weak, and he kept getting feverish, quickly leading to exhaustion. He would fall asleep from fatigue, and then, when the fever rose again, he would writhe and twist his body, gasping and moaning. It would last for at least a few days.

Kloff came at night. He looked down at the Omega, flushed with rut fever, without saying a word. Aeroc, twisting his body despite his large belly, could barely breathe, feeling himself grow even wetter under that gaze.

After a long while, by the time Aeroc, half-crazed by the Alpha’s scent, lunged at him, Kloff pushed Aeroc away somewhat roughly. Instinctively clutching his belly and lying on his side, Aeroc had one ankle grabbed and spread open by Kloff, who, without any foreplay or tender whispers, thrust his overwhelmingly erect member deep inside in one swift motion.

“Haaahhh.”

“Damn it. Always tight. Always.”

With pleasure flashing before his eyes, Aeroc gasped, trembling. Soon, violent movements began, as if his body would be torn apart. Aeroc was roughly pounded, his limbs held captive, until his delicate, abraded folds swelled and even slightly tore, showing faint traces of blood.

With each violent thrust, Aeroc thrashed his limbs like a butterfly freshly pinned to a specimen board. Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth, and beads of sweat, born from both pain and the immense, corresponding pleasure, rolled down his forehead. Like the slender legs of a butterfly impaled by a pin, Aeroc’s left leg, draped over Kloff’s shoulder, swung in the air.

The sex was intensely strong and painful. Sex on the streets was no different. But the rut fever only came when he was near Kloff. Now he knew for certain. No matter how many men he opened his legs to, no matter how many times he became pregnant, Kloff was the only one his body truly reacted to. Only his child could be safely born.

No matter how much other men probed him and sucked his body, he only felt physiological climaxes, never feeling like he was dying in such pain and pleasure. The pleasure was so intense that it felt as if every nerve cell in his body was burning out.

“Aeroc.”

Kloff, who usually didn’t even moan properly, sometimes called his name during rut sex. Then Aeroc, as if possessed, would look at him and reply, “Kloff.” The pleasure grew stronger, and simultaneously, his mind drifted into a haze. They said sex with a loved one was sweet, but he always wondered how something so hot could be felt as sweet.

But the thoughts didn’t last long. His Alpha wouldn’t let him think of anything else. Aeroc, deeply immersed in the fiercely spreading Alpha scent, inhaled deeply, very deeply, as if inhaling a drug. His mind became hazy.

Waking late the next day, Aeroc naturally looked at the empty spot beside him. He had woken up a while ago but hadn’t gotten up, instead running his hand over the crumpled sheet marks, pressed down by a heavy weight. Pregnancy wasn’t bad. Rather, it was good. Because Kloff came often. But on the other hand, he was also afraid. Childbirth was always painful, and he had to send the child away without a farewell. He blankly hugged the blanket, still imbued with the Alpha’s lingering scent, and inhaled deeply again.

A moment later, he got out of bed. He was so hungry that even the baby seemed angry, kicking violently.

“Just a little more patience. You need to have patience.”

There would be two potatoes left that he had baked the night before. He had to eat them before they spoiled.

The moment he tried to stand on two legs, he collapsed onto the floor beside the bed. His legs gave out, and he couldn’t put any strength into them. He hit his bottom painfully, and his stomach hurt too. The baby, startled, stopped kicking. Aeroc groaned and then stood up again.

Then, something hot flowed between his thighs. He blushed at the sight of the pale, sticky substance, slightly tinged with blood. Amidst the metallic scent, he could smell the Alpha’s scent mixed with his own again. He rubbed his needlessly flushed face, pulled an old cloth he used as a towel, wiped between his legs, and first ate the potatoes he had taken from the stove.

“It tastes really good today, doesn’t it?”

The baby moved busily, as if in response. Aeroc unconsciously laughed aloud.

He drew water from the hand pump and washed himself. It was a pity to lose Kloff’s scent, but he couldn’t help it; if he didn’t wash, his stomach would hurt later. After washing, he suddenly felt tired from the slight fever, a lingering effect of the rut, so he lay down on the bed. The sheets still smelled a little of Kloff. He was lucky. Aeroc, with his lightly flushed cheeks half-covered by the sheet, closed his eyes and fell asleep. As the pregnancy progressed, all that increased was fatigue and sleep.

Aeroc casually informed Kloff, who had stopped by, of this fact. His body felt strangely heavy, and he kept falling asleep. Compared to his ample previous pregnancy experiences, it seemed a bit abnormal, he said with a slight laugh. He had just brought it up to dispel the awkward atmosphere from their recent encounter, but it couldn’t be salvaged. Kloff, in response, just stared at him without much reaction.

“What do you want this time, Count?”

At the twisted tone, Aeroc flinched. He seemed to think he was complaining again. Fearing another accusation starting with ‘How dare you, knowing no bounds,’ Aeroc hastily shook his head.

“I don’t want anything. I was just speaking. I’m content as I am.”

A strange light flickered in Kloff’s deep brown eyes. But when Aeroc smiled, it quickly turned into displeasure. Kloff detested Aeroc’s smile. But since he kept smiling reflexively, the air always grew cold. There was nothing he could do about it.

Sometimes, Kloff would stare blankly at him. Yet, he said nothing. When Kloff gazed like that, Aeroc, unable to find any particular reaction, would just sit quietly with a faint smile, gazing back at him.

Occasionally, a fleeting smile, almost imperceptible, would return. At such times, Aeroc felt his heart plummet. His fingertips would tremble, so he deliberately clutched and crumpled the hem of his clothes. He wanted to keep looking, afraid to miss that smile, but he deliberately turned his head, not wanting to reveal his blushing cheeks.

“I’m the one who’s displeased.”

Leaving behind an incomprehensible remark, Kloff stood up and left without a glance. He wished he would stay a little longer.

Left alone, Aeroc found himself at a loss in the shack, which had suddenly turned into winter. He wiggled his cold toes a little, then stood up and aimlessly walked around the empty space. He picked up and put down a potato on the table, then lightly stroked the back of a chair that Kloff had pulled out and not put back in its place. Soon, he looked at himself in the dusty mirror hanging on the wall.

His unruly hair had grown quite long. The length that had been cut short when he first entered this shack now reached his shoulders. His hair, once gleaming like gold, was now dull and faded, looking shabby. He examined his face again; his cheeks had thinned, and his eyes had lost their vigor. With no arrogant expression, only a faint smile, Aeroc found his reflection awkward, yet at the same time, he felt a sense of déjà vu, as if he had seen it somewhere before. After a long while, he remembered who the person in the mirror was.

Ah. That smile earlier wasn’t for me either.

His heart ached.

Time passed, and the time came to give birth to his third child. The midwife he had seen when he gave birth to his second child came. Unlike the previous two times, this birth took place in the shack. The child Aeroc birthed in agonizing pain had its umbilical cord cut to form a navel before its first cry, and the midwife immediately wrapped the child in a soft cloth.

Perhaps having grown accustomed to it, this being the third time, Aeroc didn’t lose consciousness, watching it with his exhausted body. The midwife handed the child to the father, who was waiting outside.

This third child, and second Omega offspring, was also Kloff’s first daughter. He was very pleased, smiling happily. Aeroc, who had been watching blankly, devoid of sensation in his body, unconsciously smiled along. Kloff, who had gently kissed the small, wrinkled red head, turned his head and looked this way. Aeroc smiled a little wider at the familiar, almost welcome, sullen gaze Kloff always showed when he smiled.

“You did well.”

Aeroc blinked. It was such an unexpected greeting that he wanted to react a little more strongly, but his body wouldn’t obey. As he blinked rapidly, Kloff only looked his way for a moment, then turned and left with the child.

He hadn’t expected to be shown the child anyway, but seeing Kloff’s retreating back always made him sad. An Omega son, an Alpha son, and an Omega daughter. Aeroc already had three children, but he didn’t even know their names.

Even if it was a ruined family, he wished at least one of them would have Teiwind as a middle name, but that probably wouldn’t happen.

Aeroc, exhausted from fatigue, closed his eyes.

Unlike before, the midwife showed the minimal courtesy of changing the sheets soiled with filth. With the help of the not-so-gentle midwife, he washed himself and lay down. Painkillers and water were placed by his bedside. It hadn’t been like this before, but now he couldn’t endure without the medicine.

After the midwife, who had roughly tidied the messy floor, left without a proper farewell, Aeroc, finally alone, trembled with an encroaching anxiety. He was terribly afraid that when he opened his eyes again, he would be on a cold stone floor. He tried to open his drowsy eyes again and again, but it was an irresistible force.

Groaning, Aeroc soon lost consciousness and fainted. When he suddenly woke up much later, realizing he had been sleeping, he unconsciously let out a deep sigh upon seeing the familiar shack ceiling. For a moment, something welled up, but it got stuck in his throat again. Something hot kept flowing down his throat.

From the day after the birth, Kloff’s visits abruptly stopped.

He must be busy raising the child. He’s a promising economic official, so he must have a lot of work. And there’s no need for him to come here anyway.

Aeroc tried to brainwash himself not to feel any regret, immersing himself in chores in the shack.

Now he peeled potatoes quite well. His sewing had improved from before. He learned how to tend to the flower garden in front of the house and how to clean the fireplace. It was better to get lost in various tasks. Because then he wouldn’t think of anything.

He got charcoal smudges on himself, scraped out all the ash accumulated in the fireplace over the winter, and discarded it in the flowerbed. Then he drew water from the well and thoroughly cleaned the dusty shack. This time, he was skilled enough to divide the blanket into two to wash. Opening the window and mending his worn clothes, Aeroc looked outside. Sometimes, when it rained, listening to the beautiful sound of raindrops made the day pass quickly.

As he became proficient in housework, he had more free time. He was bored. He thought it would be nice to have a book or an instrument, and then it suddenly occurred to him that since he had so much time, why not make something? The thought of producing something suddenly lifted his gloomy spirits.

“Let’s see. I can’t make a violin or an oboe with what I have now. A piano would be impossible. Hmm. If I had a pen and paper, I could write something. But using blood as ink on a bedsheet is too much. Is that all there is? It’s hard to do alone, but not impossible.”

He went outside and picked up several pebbles of similar size. He carefully marked patterns with charcoal from the stove, then drew a grid on the table with a paring knife. It was clumsy, but it was a fairly well-formed chessboard.

“It’s simple, isn’t it?”

He unconsciously spoke to the baby, stroking his stomach. But his belly, which had long since flattened, was just flat. Embarrassed, he put his hands back on the table. That was only for a moment; Aeroc quickly became engrossed in chess.

Shadow chess, playing against himself, was quite a difficult game. He had to concentrate hard and could be completely absorbed all day. It was a pure joy he hadn’t felt in a long time. Aeroc’s chess skills were quite good. Though it hurt a little to use his brain, which had been stiff for a while, it was truly a rare occasion to enjoy a game, so he even hummed a tune. Occasionally, he would mime violin fingerings in the air, contemplating his next move.

“Aeroc Teiwind, you’re quite strong. Can’t be easily crushed. Of course. Don’t forget I was tutored by a chess champion.”

It had become a habit; he kept talking to himself. There was no one to hear, so there was no shame.

After giving birth to three children, he felt his skin had thickened, but so what? He had no face to save, no duties to uphold now. This much would be fine.

Then he boldly lay face down on the table. It was a deviation he had never experienced in his life, having always kept his back and shoulders straight and his head held high. He laughed loudly, not caring if the chess pieces scattered. Burying his face in his arms, he laughed, and then suddenly, when he looked up, his eyes met Kloff’s, who was looking in through the window shutter. Kloff saw the clumsy chessboard, the stone pieces, and Aeroc, frozen with a bright expression, and said one thing.

“Do you even have a heart? When, and what must be done to you for you to be hurt and cry miserably?”

He was extremely bewildered. And he didn’t understand. What must be done to him to be hurt? Didn’t Kloff himself know that best? His body, mind, and even his soul had been torn to shreds in every way he couldn’t even imagine. To the point where he once mistakenly thought he had paid off all his sins.

When his family fell and he became Kloff’s Omega and got pregnant, his pride was already shattered, and he was tormented enough to settle for that reality. Since then, he had been in pain so many times, doubting life itself. He felt so miserable selling his body for a loaf of bread that he thought he would go mad. Yet, when he thought there was no hope, he had even tried to let everything go. Aeroc, his smile gone, opened his mouth, looking at Kloff, who even showed signs of despair.

“I was hurt too.”

“Where? Laughing so joyfully, where? My wife is rotting day by day in the ground, shedding bitter tears, and you’re here laughing and playing!”

At that, Aeroc was even more flustered. So, was he supposed to just sit blankly? Not knowing what to answer, he aimlessly looked around and lightly clasped his hands.

“If you don’t like me playing chess, I won’t.”

“Chess isn’t the problem! Do you even have a heart? Does a heart beat in that chest of yours? How can you just laugh even after having your children taken and living miserably? Was jumping into the river all an act? To stir my pity?”

Kloff quickly closed the distance, grabbing the collar of the startled, frozen man and snarling. Aeroc was at a loss.

“It wasn’t an act. Back then, I really meant to die…”

No matter what he said, Kloff wasn’t listening. He saw his dazed reflection in Kloff’s fiercely burning eyes. Aeroc’s expression unconsciously softened. At that moment, Kloff, with a sneer full of contempt, accused him.

“You always wear that arrogant smile, looking down on people. How grand, a noble aristocrat. Like a blue-blooded demon who can’t even shed tears in any situation.”

He wasn’t laughing because he wanted to. It was merely a reflexive action, either from suppressing emotions or unconsciously. But to Kloff, it didn’t appear that way.

Aeroc, the heir to a venerable count’s family, had been educated from a very young age on the demeanor of an aristocrat to his very bones. He always held his head high, never showed excessive emotion, and wore a faint smile.

Never to cry, either. That was as natural an act as living, breathing, eating, and sleeping. He didn’t attach much meaning to it. It was simply custom and etiquette. Because of this, commoners sometimes said that nobles were emotionless, cold-blooded demons. But he didn’t know that Kloff, also a noble, would question such a thing.

He and Raypiel expressed their emotions faithfully, unlike nobles. No matter what others said, they confessed their love directly and earnestly, rather than with refined circumlocution. The two lovers, who would whisper sweetly to each other even when people were watching, like commoners, were therefore very endearing and made the noble who had fallen into unrequited love even more jealous.

Even when casual one-night stands between Alphas and Alphas, or Omegas and Omegas, were so prevalent, and Aeroc swallowed his pride, using the trend as an excuse to ask Kloff to sleep with him for just one night, Kloff’s reaction showed no aristocratic sarcasm at all. Instead, he became surprisingly serious.

“Do those decadent, depraved acts in your mansion, filled with the stench of your crooked, rotten essence. You’re like a rutting pig.”

After spewing insults, he went to find Raypiel. There were other nobles watching them at the time, and Aeroc’s dignity plummeted. But even then, Aeroc, with a pale face, smiled faintly and left the scene.

Even now, he had no choice but to smile. But Kloff’s expression grew increasingly grim, and it seemed a physical blow might come soon. Held by the collar, unable to resist, Aeroc asked in a slightly trembling, weak voice.

“Do I have to cry?”

“What?”

“If I show tears and cry, will you understand that I’m also suffering?”

When he asked that, Kloff bared his teeth and laughed. He scoffed for a long time, asking how he dared to utter the word ‘suffering,’ then finally sneered with a cold laugh.

“Go on, try it. You, who didn’t even cry when you gave birth.”

Just looking at Kloff made Aeroc’s heart ache so much, and something felt like it was rising in his throat, and his eyes burned, but no matter how long he waited, tears wouldn’t fall. Instead, his expression contorted. He tried to make a sound similar to a sob, but ultimately, no tears came out. It was despair.

“Playing with me to the very end. You devil spawn.”

Leaving behind cruel words, Kloff flung his collar away. And he swept away the pebbles Aeroc had gathered. With only a cold gaze remaining, he left.

Aeroc spent the entire afternoon trying to cry, without picking up the scattered pebbles. Strangely, no tears came out. His heart ached so much, why wouldn’t tears fall? Later, he even poked his eyes to force out physiological tears, and only then did a few drops fall. He didn’t know what was wrong.

Why wouldn’t tears come out?

When one is sad and in pain, tears should naturally flow. Until now, he thought he was holding them back. He thought he was forcibly swallowing them down his throat even when his eyes burned. Now, it seemed he wasn’t holding them back but had lost the function. His tear glands might have been damaged from not being used for so long. Come to think of it, even when he was so desperate that he decided to die, no tears came out. As Kloff said, tears that didn’t come out even during the excruciating pain of childbirth, like having his bones stretched while alive, didn’t seem likely to flow now. He tried, but ultimately failed.

Was this truly a sign of becoming a blue-blooded demon? He couldn’t tell.