Edited by: bafflinghaze
Three Hours Ago
Bright red vermillion eyes stared at the ceiling of a bedroom reminiscent of a sick patient in a healer’s ward.
Julius couldn’t remember what it was like to wake up every day and not wince at the painful pressure coursing through his veins.
Since the day he was nearly assassinated, he had only ever known the tingling beneath his skin and the prickle of his pores. Every inch of his body was constantly sore as if it held an unspeakable weight that was difficult to bear.
The invisible splinters and needles pierced every inch of him and twisted, testing the very extent of his tolerance and fortitude—yet he could do nothing to get rid of them.
Pain was a constant companion for Julius. He would have wished he lost a limb instead, but alas, his problem stemmed from his psyche rather than any physical injuries.
It was difficult to move, even more so when it rained.
Yet, in the sweltering heat of early summer, Julius was dealing with fevers and an ache in his body that could rival any previous discomfort.
Days and nights blended together until all he could see were shadows behind his heavy curtains, dark enough to blot out the sun and moon.
His bedroom stunk with bitter medicine and burning incense, his sheets and blankets were constantly stained with sleeping draughts, and there was a discomfort crawling beneath his skin from not having had a real bath in weeks.
Being sponged down once a day could only do so much…
That morning, Julius awoke from his fever-ridden haze with a mild sore in his limbs and a small migraine drilling into his skull. He had not felt as good as he did in a long time.
To be able to move at all was a blessing whenever he awoke from his bedridden state.
His shaking hands slowly reached for a rope next to the bed and he tugged it with what little strength he had, wincing slightly when he felt his joints protesting against the action.
The curtains parted.
Sunlight streamed into the room little by little, reflecting off the soft long tresses of golden hair belonging to the young man with a face like delicate white porcelain and eyes akin to a massacre at sunset.
There was a knock at the door.
“… Come in,” Julius said, his voice hoarse and dry from disuse.
His personal servant, Thomas, stepped inside with a greeting.
“Good morning, Master.”
Julius nodded impassively, “… Morning.”
Thomas made his way over. The servant gingerly pulled the covers back and carefully helped the young man from the bed.
Julius gritted his teeth as he felt invisible arrows shooting through his spine. His breath grew labored, but Thomas continued to hold him steady. Julius was soon brought over to the edge of the bed.
Once he was properly settled into a sitting position, Thomas presented him with a white ribbon.
“Would Master like me to—”
“I will do it myself.”
“Of course, Master,” the servant instantly conceded.
Julius placed the ribbon over his bare neck. He felt the familiar texture of the special seal pattern stitched on the inside of the silk over the center of his throat. He skillfully wrapped the ribbon around his neck a couple more times and tied it with deft hands.
Thomas brushed his hair and helped him wash up.
Soft apologies fell from the servant’s lips as he dressed Julius. What felt like an eternity might have only been for a mere few minutes as Thomas tried to gently lift his arms one arm after another to put on his shirt and blazer. There was a flare-up in his knees after he got into his pants, and then the prickling sensation of needles under his skin as his leg brace was placed and buckled.
Thomas handed him his cane.
Julius moved his legs a little, testing the extent of the pressure on the nerves surrounding his leg joints. Strangely enough, he didn’t feel as though his blood was the equivalent of liquid fire channeling through his veins.
It had been a long time since he had felt as well as did. Julius wondered if his mother had administered a new pain reliever while he was sleeping.
“Where is Mother?” He suddenly asked, turning to Thomas.
“The Madam is still resting,” Thomas informed him, “The healers have instructed her to remain in bed for a couple more days.”
“… Oh,” Julius adjusted his cuff links as his face rapidly grew sullen.
No doubt, she had been at his bedside since he fell into another comatose state.
Julius had been well two weeks before. Though he was still bedridden, he had believed he would attend classes at the end of spring. But after reading that blasted letter, he was taken off guard and once again succumbed to his fragile health.
The entire reason he was on bed rest for the entirety of spring in the first place was due to the invasive procedure he had on his leg after the spring holiday. The recuperation period took longer than expected, however, when he started to get fevers—to no one’s surprise.
He was used to being bed bedridden for long durations, so his mother would nurse him while forgetting her own wellbeing.
“We will go to town today,” Julius decided as he slowly stood.
“Are you sure this is wise, Master?” Thomas asked with a skeptical raise of his brow.
But Julius was adamant. With a brace on his left leg and a cane on his right hand, he said with finality to his tone, “We will go.”
—
“Julius?”
Julius was taken aback the moment he stepped into the flower shop.
Vermillion red eyes looked at him in surprise, soon landing on his cane for a second longer, and then back onto his face.
The last time Julius saw Nazareth, the boy still wore his hair like a veil made from a bird’s nest. His eyes, though, still remained his most prominent feature.
Without all that hair hiding his face and serving as a distraction to Nazareth’s overall appearance, it was difficult not to notice how eerily similar Nazareth’s eyes were to his own.
Few have ever noticed, considering how often Julius was absent in the social circle and Nazareth banned from a good few dozen social events due to inappropriate behavior. He and Nazareth rarely stood next to each other long enough for anyone to make the comparison.
But dispel all thoughts of any possibilities.
It was a known fact that all Elysium descendants were blond. There was zero chance of any children being born with black hair, no matter who the surrogate mother was, ever since the beginning of his family history some thousand years ago.
Something about unusually dominant recessive genes, according to his mother. She had a field day scouring the records for any children born without blonde hair and his father had to drag her out when she started camping in the archives.
Also, Nazareth was an Odum through and through. He had the features of Duke Odum and a similar facial bone structure to that pitiful younger brother of his. They weren’t related.
Thank all the gods they weren’t related…
He didn’t think he would meet Nazareth here of all places, but the gods were toying with him.
Julius had been wanting to punch Nazareth across the face since that letter arrived. Might he end up in bed again for choosing violence? Absolutely. But would it be worth it to give this scum a black eye for breaking off their friendship with a fucking letter?
Absolutely.
Lester and Elliot had been quiet ever since Nazareth broke everything off, and Julius was helpless in bed. He was so tragically out of the loop, it was crazy how everything was escalating. He wasn’t even there. He didn’t know what was going on.
It was frustrating.
Julius shoved the tiny gift box he was holding into Thomas’ arms—it was a set of diamond earrings made by an up-and-coming jewelry designer—and squared his shoulders as upright as he could, ignoring the strain of his muscles as he gave Nazareth a cold glare.
Behind him, he could hear Thomas fumbling with the rest of the gifts he had bought earlier today for his mother. That woman deserved the best and Thomas better not drop the box containing the winter coat that was made from the pelt of a Mountain Beast.
“Nazareth,” Julius stepped forward slowly, his cane clicking the ground, “I’d like to say it was nice seeing you, but that would be a lie.”
Nazareth stared at him, his face devoid of any warmth beside a slow blink of disinterest.
“You shouldn’t be out of bed.”
Because of course, Nazareth would look at his cane and have all the asshole conclusions readied against him.
“I am fine,” Julius said, resisting the urge to hit the other with his cane.
Nazareth’s lips thinned disapprovingly.
Julius felt his mood plunge further into an abyss of grievance.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
He could hear his own consciousness screaming at him, “Go on, Juli! He’s dishonored you!” with the most elitist accent to ever deign his ears.
And Julius slapped the voice across the head because it was being a dumbfuck.
You said you wanted to punch him in the face.
Wanted. Not ‘will.’ His desires and reality were not capable of fusing, unfortunately.
Julius had better luck standing upright for his class’ version of the Tragedy of Ohmlet last year than giving Nazareth a black eye.
“You are pale.”
Nazareth’s voice cut through his thoughts like a thin blade, stating the obvious like an unsocialized brat who couldn’t read the room properly even with adult supervision.
Julius took a step forward nonetheless and raised his chin. “I’m flattered by your concerns, but it’s none of your business.”
At least not anymore.
Nazareth looked away. Julius snorted.
“Um,” the florist behind the counter who was staring at them back and forth like he was watching some type of high-class musical operetta finally spoke, “Do the two of you need a moment?”
The florist then eyed Nazareth hesitantly.
There was complete silence in the store.
Nazareth’s face nearly turned to stone. He held up a hand. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“I see.”
“It’s really not.”
“I understand.”
“You understand nothing.”
“I would rather die, just so you know,” Julius felt the need to add.
The florist made a face, “It must be a misunderstanding.”
“It’s… not.” Now Nazareth made a face like he was being stabbed by debt collectors who didn’t get the memo that he already paid his debt an hour ago.
“He even admits it,” Julius frowned, “Why am I not surprised?”
“I’ll be over here if you need anything,” the florist said, mindfully stepping away.
And then there was silence, again.
Nazareth handed a parcel to his blindfolded servant.
“Rainier, can you bring everything to the carriage first? I’ll meet you there.”
“Certainly, Young Master.”
The servant held a bouquet in one hand and the parcel in the other and made his way out the door without looking back.
Julius turned to his own servant, “Go back to the carriage.”
The look he received from Thomas said everything that needed to be said.
Who do you think you are, Master Julius? Sir Odum? Tell that to me again when you can put on your own leg brace.
“… Never mind.”
Julius submitted under Thomas’ judging gaze. The servant stared at him for a beat longer before thankfully fading into the background beside a large floral arrangement.
Nazareth fiddled with something in his hair. The action was casual and harmless, perhaps had even become a habit by this point, but Julius was stricken by it nonetheless.
Hearing Nazareth had cut his hair was one thing, but seeing the hair gone and tidied up was another. There was still some length to his hair, but the locks were secured and neat, bound together by a silver hair stick of some kind that looked sharp enough to stab someone’s eye out.
“I heard you got surgery.” Nazareth suddenly said.
“Still none of your business,” Julius responded with ire.
“How’s the new leg brace?”
“That doesn’t concern you.”
“Is the new pain tincture working?”
“My stepmother is working miracles, but none of this should matter to you at all.”
Julius was growing frustrated with Nazareth’s terrible attempts at small talk. The fact that he had gotten intel on his health status was both irritatingly admirable, and unhelpful. Out of anybody who should be worrying about the state of his health, Nazareth was not one of them.
But Nazareth had to be an asshole and stared at him for an uncomfortably long second before asking, “Julius, are you okay?”
What an asshole.
No. He was not okay. He hadn’t been alright for a very long time and Nazareth should know not to ask him that.
The audacity he had for pretending there was nothing wrong with the state of their broken ties and crumbling alliances was maddening.
The sheer insolence he had for acting as if he wanted a fresh new start after sending that letter to him was infuriating.
Julius tightened his fist around his cane and took a deep breath.
“Take a guess,” he said as he felt his words fall out like little blades cutting open his lips.
“Julius—”
“Don’t.” He cut him off, “I don’t care for your excuses, nor do I want to hear your reasons. You’ve shown you have no values, Nazareth, just like everyone else. You are not worth my time anymore. Not after you decided to choose between us and your brother.”
Whatever Nazareth was going through, Julius had thought he would have confided in him, at the very least.
Whether it was because of his family, his brother, or anything, they all swore to keep each other’s secrets.
But instead, something happened and Nazareth felt the need to distance himself. He pulled away instead of coming to them, and Julius felt worthless.
The rumors of Nazareth reconciling his relationship with his younger brother had spread for months across Noble Society. It even reached Julius’ ears in the few moments he was awake and aware.
But when Nazareth decided to play family, he also saw it fit to break from his group of “shady noble friends,” and with all eyes on him, observing his actions and spreading the word, it demonized the rest of their group as less than stellar people.
The world was rough and society was cruel.
Nazareth was the poster boy of change and redemption, and Julius and the rest were scum.
There was a lingering pause in the air.
Nazareth’s face was tepid, lukewarm at best. Julius could see the way his eyes softened. As if Julius was an animal needing to be placated. Like a pretentious martyr.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
Fuck you, bitch. The voice in his head sounding similar to his mother’s said in response.
Which made Julius feel even more shitty because Nazareth was looking at him with borderline unease, like a tarantula with particularly big and round eyes and pitifully small legs.
And yet—
“Don’t look at me like that!” He snapped. “I’m fine. Why do all of you assume I’m not? The fact that you think this,” he slammed his cane on the ground for emphasis and gritted his teeth as pain shot through his arm, “Would be the reason I’m not worth the friendship is absolute bullshit—”
“Julius—”
“You hurt us!”
There.
That was what he wanted to say.
It was what he wanted to say on behalf of Elliot and Lester.
Elliot might never admit it. He would scream himself hoarse at Nazareth and then go and stew, but he would never admit his true feelings about the matter other than the surface of his hurt.
Meanwhile, Lester would have forgiven him. Sweet, young Lester, trying so hard to fit in with the rest of high society and deciding Nazareth made the perfect older brother. Nazareth had taken the boy under his wings and cared for him as best as he could while he could never do the same for his own brother.
That boy would forgive him in a heartbeat. Might not have even said anything else besides how sad he was.
Neither would have criticized Nazareth properly, but Julius would.
But Julius was different. He was more articulate, the oldest, and of higher status than Nazareth. He was the oldest in the group, and as always, he had to be the voice of reason because Nazareth never was.
He might not have had the luxury of moving around and attending every meeting, but they had always kept him in the loop. He kept an eye on each of them, because he cared, despite the walls he had built.
When had these boys stopped letting him know what was going on?
And all he understood from this little drama with the letters and Nazareth was the hurt.
He had hurt them dearly. He had. This was a fact that couldn’t be erased. It was an action etched into their minds and now Nazareth had to deal with the consequences.
“You hurt us, Nazareth.” Julius reiterated, seriously—patiently, as he had always done before. Because being thoughtlessly angry did little to make Nazareth understand the cost of his actions. Julius had to explain it to him like he was crazy, an unstable ticking mana bomb on the verge of explosion.
Because… it was still Nazareth, regardless.
He could cut his hair and pull in his bloodcurdling resentment against the world, but he was still Nazareth.
Unsocialized, thoughtless, a little self-centered… and grieving.
Julius knew him.
Nazareth simply didn’t know how to understand.
And Julius needed to teach him how.
“You tossed us aside without even thinking of all that we’ve built together. A year’s worth of friendship and secrets went down the drain from your letter at the simple request of your family’s urging. While I can’t understand why you would suddenly change your mind after everything, couldn’t you have talked to us, at least? Why did you think writing a letter would give any closure or satisfaction? All you did was hurt us.”
“I…”
Julius caught his gaze and held it, unwilling to blink, or else he feared the spell would break.
“I know Lester and Elliot already spoke to you. Elliot will come around eventually and Lester will always take your side. You just need to know it’s alright, Nazareth. As long as you explain to us what’s going on, everything will be fine. We can get through this together, but only if you’re willing to talk.”
Julius placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and felt the flinch beneath his fingers. Nazareth didn’t pull away but he continued to look at him, his eyes trembling.
He didn’t speak, perhaps speechless or simply processing his words.
Nazareth wasn’t an active listener. His listening skills weren’t the best, but when he listened, it certainly took longer than five seconds for him to respond.
Julius sighed and swallowed his pride, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier,” he said, the apology rolling off his tongue awkwardly, “That was uncalled for. Take your time to think about what I said. And then we’ll gather everyone for a meeting, alright?”
He didn’t wait for a response and left Nazareth to take in his words.
Julius limped over to the florist, “One bouquet of lilies… please.”
—
Sutton had always believed everyone had the right to privacy.
But personal confrontations, public spaces…
Well this was his shop and he was deeply immersed in the story now.
He tried not to eavesdrop, but damn did these rich people know how to start a confrontation.
The butler who came in with the blond man was doing an excellent impression of the floral arrangements across the room. It was an enviable talent. Sutton took a page from his book and pretended to be the cash register.
There were several moments of silence and intense eye contact between his most frequent customer and the blond man with the cane throughout the duration of their exchange.
In between the stilted awkwardness was the blond man chiding at his customer with the same energy as a person who found out their fiancee since birth had been bullying their secret lover.
Sutton paused.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
Or perhaps it was the other way around and the blond man was the fiancee who had his heart broken?
“We can get through this together.”
Maybe his customer was the secret lover!
You’re losing track of the story!
But seriously, all jokes aside, Sutton wondered about their relationship
He initially thought there was something going on between his customer and that butler with the blindfold, but he could be mistaken.
But then again, his customer could be someone with an overly complicated dating history. He might not know it, but his customer was easy on the eyes and had incredibly strong “step on me” energy.
There had to be a love triangle between the blindfolded butler and the blond man.
Damn, Sutton didn’t know whether he was lucky to witness the drama go down or unlucky since his shop seemed to be the backdrop of the drama.
If only the blindfolded butler didn’t have to leave…
“One bouquet of lilies… please.”
And that was Sutton’s cue to get back to work.
—
Neo wasn’t sure what he was expecting after seeing Julius face to face.
Julius, for all that he struggled with his health, had always seemed larger than life itself. He was the noble Elysium Heir; a young man who wore the weight of his title like a mantle on his shoulders. Elegant, sleek, and intimidating.
But Julius in the flesh was not the man Neo had remembered to be.
He was pale, nearly bloodless in the face, and the way he limped with his cane held tight in a fist showed how much pain he was in.
How had Nazareth… no, how had he never noticed the delicate state Julius was in?
Neo suddenly realized with abrupt clarity that it didn’t matter whether he was Neo or Nazareth.
Neither were conscious of anyone besides themselves.
Having lived two lifetimes didn’t give him the moral high grounds. He was never perfect, to begin with, but living forty more years hadn’t changed him as much as he thought it would.
Deep down, Neo knew what type of person he was.
When given the opportunity of a second chance, the manipulative and conniving part of himself reacted in a way parallel to how he used to be.
To be someone good, he naturally assumed he needed to choose, and if that meant cutting off the people he used to get his way… it wasn’t that Neo would have done it.
He had.
And he didn’t even bat an eye as he sent those letters off.
The repercussions meant little to him because he believed they were a symptom of his madness.
He thought he was protecting them, but really, he was only protecting himself.
In retrospect, his apologies really were meaningless.
Nazareth had only known the path of the wicked meant wicked deeds and nothing else. If they were his symptoms then he was a sickness. A plague upon society in need of eradication.
Somewhere deep beneath the surface of his skin, the part of himself who was prone to obsessiveness preened with pleasure at the acknowledgment.
“You hurt us.”
Leave it to Julius to tell it to him straight.
Encountering Julius wasn’t like facing Elliot or Lester.
Unlike Elliot, who begged and yelled and gave up when he was denied, or Lester, who remained undoubtedly loyal, Julius could simultaneously offer a verbal beat down that made him feel like dirt and still press him to speak his truth.
Neo was reminded of why he had respected the other so much in the past.
He needed to tell Julius about his circumstances before the other decided he wasn’t worth the effort.
The thought of disappointing him any further was met with a bitter feeling in his stomach and a stuffy ache in his chest.
His feet started to move before he could think.
“Julius.”
But Julius wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were on the doorway behind the front desk where Sutton had disappeared into.
“Nazareth, I am not in the mood to discuss this any further today.”
“Julius.”
No, Neo was not pouting. That would just be weird. And rude.
Yet, Julius still paid him no mind. Like a parent who was used to dealing with whiny children all day. With a sigh, he said, “We’ll schedule that meeting—”
But before he couldn’t finish his sentence, he covered his mouth.
A wet cough sounded through the shop.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
“Cough, cough, cough, cough…”
“Master Julius.”
Julius’ servant was immediately by his side, his brows furrowed with concern as he shoved a handkerchief over his lips.
Julius struggled against himself as he grasped the handkerchief, blood pouring from his mouth like a leaky faucet.
Neo took a step forward.
Julius weakly raised a hand to stop him.
“Don’t touch me…”
“I just want to help.”
“No, you don’t understand—cough, cough, cough…”
Neo didn’t know what to do. Was there anything he could do? What could possibly stop Julius from bleeding all over?
He was once again powerless, despite getting a chance for a do-over.
He was back. This was his life again. He could do something for once so no one had to suffer for what he did or suffer more for what he couldn’t do. He had the qualifications, the future knowledge, the mastery—yet he was helpless in the face of Julius’ illness.
Neo was reminded of his mother.
Sickness, he knew, had always been his most detested adversary.
There was only so much he could do.
So instead of wallowing in your own self-pity, why don’t you actually do something about it, genius?
Right.
He was imagining his own self-limitations yet again.
Gods, he dearly missed therapy…
”Haaah… Ha… cough…”
Julius took deep breaths. They were laborious and ragged.
The handkerchief in his hand was completely dyed red. The shop smelled like flowers dipped in a sickeningly dry, sweet metallic scent.
“Master!”
Julius stumbled.
Neo had his arms outstretched, wanting to catch him, to hold him steady, but the moment he made contact with Julius’ shoulder, the latter groaned, his voice strained with pain.
“You need to be gentle!” Julius’ servant snapped, his eyes blown wide with panic.
Neo loosen his grip and, slowly, sunk to the ground with Julius leaning awkwardly into his hand.
Being physically in contact with Julius, Neo could hear the wet rattling of the latter’s chest. His breathing was labored and tight. Each breath sounded painful in his ears.
Not even a moment later, Julius, with a faint sheen of sweat over his brows, closed his eyes and went limp in Neo’s arms.
Neo checked for a breath, and then a pulse.
Blood continued to leak from Julius’s mouth, staining both of their clothes.
Julius was wearing a cream blazer and Neo wore black.
Neo found it a little funny, despite having an armful of his ex-friend in his arms and a fretting servant in the background looking through a large medicine bag for the right pills.
If Julius’ health was already this bad, then Neo couldn’t even comprehend how much pain he was in by the time they were sentenced for their crimes.
He hadn’t remembered a surgery. Nazareth simply didn’t care.
He didn’t recall a leg brace. He was disinterested in Julius’ life.
He thought he was helping by leaving, but really, he was just being an unfeeling asshole.
(When Neo got that report about Julius, he thought Julius’ situation was like Finneas and his seasonal illnesses. If only he cared a little more…)
By the end of their lifetime, he had remembered the hollowness in Julius’ eyes, the gaunt cheeks, and the way he had always sat behind a desk. The other boy had shown no signs of weakness, and so Nazareth merely remembered him as an intimidating picture of strength and will.
Julius was like a light.
He was like a short candlestick on the verge of being snuffed.
“Sir, your lilies are ready—”
Sutton, who had gone to the back of the store to prepare the bouquet, re-entered the storefront at the worst time possible. He made a strangled noise and quickly ran over.
“What’s wrong with him?! Why is there so much blood?!
—
Step 35. Meet your third and final ex (friend) who you broke up with via a letter at a flower shop. Do be careful about this one, love. He’s very fragile.
The author has something to say:
Thank you, Iayya.M, Purple_Gravity, oreozzzz, and seleneandartemis for the beautiful fanarts!
Iayya.M
Purple_Gravity
oreozzzz
seleneandartemis
Did Sutton just say that Neo gave off sub energy oh lord that is hilarious I love the stories that Sutton makes up in his head for Neo cause it’s just so soap opera-esque, it’s everything ❤
Poor Sutton, the meetings he can not unsee.
WHOAWHOAWHOAWHOAAAA!!!!! SAVE THE GUY!!!!!
Thanks for the chapter, I was in withdrawal 💀💀
Actually this is the first original novel I read in this site and I must say I am HOOKED. I read this in one sitting. Can’t wait for the next chapter!! Thanks for the chapter 🥰🥰
And I’m glad Sutton doesn’t seem to fall for Neo because that would make Aurelion saaadd
man, the way i just RUN to this chapter when i saw it!!!
Poor Julius, someone help this boy 💀😩
Save Julius!
❤️❤️❤️❤️
Thank you 💛💛💛
Drama!
Thank you for the chapter!
I gotta say probably one of my favorite chapters for Neo’s growth (his realization, acceptance, and willingness to try and make things better) and Julius we all need one of him in our lives (this chapter kinda hit home for me and maybe that’s why I like it so much)Also Sutton’s mind lol I love where it takes him 😂
Sutton, please xD
thanks for the chapter <3
🔥🔥🔥❤❤❤❤❤