Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Choso wishes he could give his Father one final kick in the arse.

It’s a damned shame he’s as deceased as can be. While Choso is forever grateful of that fact, he was not expecting to be left with such a parting gift.

The Kamo family is an old, ancient line with many connections to the royal family. Choso’s Father, the Duke of Devonshire, was a cruel man with a penchant for violence. Once he passed, the title was swiftly transferred to Choso. He hated his father with a flaming passion, loathed his cruelty. 

He’s grateful for one thing granted to him by his Father, and one thing only. This gift, one which he did not ask for but is elated to possess, being his eight brothers. Choso adores each and every one of them, and dotes on them accordingly. Makes sure they’re all taken care of, studying as they should be, and making their transition into workdom for the royal family.

What he’s less grateful for, much to his very strong dismay, is the hidden illegitimate son that his Father kept secret until the reading of his will. He couldn’t even have the decency to provide for the boy while he was alive.

There is nothing Choso hates more than a man who rejects familial values.

Alas, Choso is taking it in stride. He prides himself on being a good older brother, and a ninth is nothing in comparison to raising the others. No matter his legitimacy to the Kamo family, this boy is Choso’s brother, and he will treat him the same as all the others. 

It’s a shame that this one happens to be the most rambunctious, carefree, and utterly mindless of them all. 

Choso is getting too old for raising more children.

“Holy shit! This is where you live?!”

“Yuuji. Do not speak with such crass language, you are of nobility now.” Choso scolds, giving his youngest brother a stern look.

He’s never thought too much about the wealth or abundance of property he now possesses at his fingertips. To him, it serves as nothing more than a means to care for his siblings. 

For many others, the Kamo estate is a sight to behold. The manor is large and foreboding, everything prim and proper. No guest would ever be able to find even a speck of dust lingering on the premises. His father made sure it stayed that way. By habit, Choso ensures the same.

Much of the Kamo affluence was gained by both participation and donation to academic achievement. More specifically, the furtherment of scientific advancement for the Kingdom of England. Choso himself is an academic, studying towards doctorate status before the passing of his Father. He was required to take over the business ordeals from then onwards. To this day, it still fills him with a sense of bitterness. He had expected this as the eldest son, but had hoped selfishly to be able to pursue his passions for a time longer.

The majority of his brothers are studying abroad for that very reason. It often becomes lonely for Choso without them present, but he has an inkling that emotion will soon dissipate with the entry of his wide eyed little brother.

Choso expects Yuuji to follow in these same footsteps as the rest of his family.

While watching him scarf down his food at the dinner table like a wild animal, he realizes he has a long way to go to reach such a goal.

“Yuuji. Fix your posture, and refrain from eating so…ravenously. The food is not departing.” He corrects, and Yuuji immediately stands straight.

“Sorry, Choso! S’just so good.” He groans, speaking with a mouth full of lamb.

Choso cringes, but decides against scolding him further. The boy is new to this way of living, after all. He must remain patient.

“Tomorrow you will resume schooling. I have enlisted a private tutor to guide you. At eight in the morning sharp, you will meet with the tutor in the library. This is to continue until you reach the age for University.” Choso says, taking a bite of roasted vegetables.

Yuuji raises his hand, and Choso resists the urge to chuckle at him.

“You do not have to raise your hand to speak, Yuuji.” He says, lips upturned.

“Right. Choso, you said resume schooling?” Yuuji starts, confused.

“Indeed. Academics are important. You must study hard.” Choso confirms.

“Right, right. So, let’s say, perchance, that I didn’t go to school. What then?” 

Choso nearly chokes on his food, a rough cough leaving his throat. He stares at the boy across the table in abject surprise, waiting to see if the young boy just had an odd sense of humour. He doesn’t.

“You… never received any forms of education?” Choso prods, eye twitching.

“Nope.” Yuuji says, popping the ‘p’ sound, “Grew up with just Mom and the rest of the maids. Mom died when I was little though, so really it was just me and the maids. They took care of me, and they were really nice, but I mostly was just a servant I suppose.”

On one hand, he’s livid that education is so inaccessible for the lower class where Yuuji was raised. On the flipside, Choso is disturbed at the thought his younger brother is this far behind, and will begin child’s learning at the age of five and ten.

Choso, head in hands, is coming to the realization that yes, he does have a very long way to go.

—

“Choso, this is boring!” Yuuji pouts, head on Choso’s desk.

Choso leans back in his leather chair, the floorboards creaking under his movements.

“It is not boring. These are things you must know. I know you can do it.” Choso encourages, flipping through papers.

While Yuuji completes the homework provided by his tutor, Choso watches over him, providing help occasionally where required. It is no detriment to him, as both learning and teaching have always come easy to the eldest son. After all, he’s been doing this since the birth of his first brother.

Choso believes that everyone has a capability to learn, and there is intelligence in every person, regardless of the subject of study.

Much to his dismay, Yuuji is testing that belief. 

He had hoped that, after some time settling in, Yuuji would take to academics as the rest of his family has. It’s not happening, and Choso doesn’t know how to handle it. It’s an obstacle he has not faced.

“You really have to know this stuff?” Yuuji whines, face planted on the dark wood in front of him.

“You do. Yuuji, this is merely elementary work. You still must properly catch up to your age group from this point onwards.”

Yuuji groans, running a hand through his hair. Much to Choso’s relief, he begins to work again. He scribbles down various notes on the page. Choso signs his name on a few documents, and reads through another before his little brother speaks again.

“Choso! Let’s play football!” Yuuji chirps, throwing his pencil on the desk.

Choso sighs, taking off his reading glasses to rub his eyes.

“I have work to tend to. Additionally, I do not play sports. I find them irrelevant and an unnecessary distraction.” Choso says flippantly, brushing off Yuuji.

He goes back to his paperwork, intent on finishing everything that needs to be done. The clock on the wall ticks, filling the cold and empty room with its repetition. The quiet is unusual. Choso looks back up in response to Yuuji’s silence, and his heart squeezes at the sight.

Yuuji is quite obviously crestfallen by Choso’s words, his face scrunched up while he does his work. Choso immediately feels guilty for shutting him down so roughly. His other brothers are used to his lack of tact, but Yuuji has not experienced it yet. He stutters a few times, trying to find the words to say to Yuuji to make the expression on his face disappear.

“Yuuji, I…. I apologize. I did not mean to be so rude. You must ask Eso after your homework. I’m positive he would be more than happy to oblige.” Choso offers.

A smile graces his brother’s features again, bringing great relief to Choso.

“Sure!”

Yuuji seems motivated to complete his work following the conversation. Choso watches him with a smile. He’s animatedly scribbling, tongue peeking out with concentration. He’s so full of life. So joyful, views the world with so much hope.

So… simple. Not in a demeaning way. Choso is glad Yuuji is left without burdens despite his less fortunate upbringing. He wishes he could say the same. Desires to be as free as Yuuji.

“Choso?” Yuuji asks.

“What is it, Brother?”

Yuuji pauses, lips pursed. Turmoil burns behind his eyes, his body language doing a complete switch from how he was moments prior.

“...Why did you take me in?” Yuuji murmurs, the question barely reaching Choso’s ears.

Choso stiffens, his arms that were once crossed falling to his lap.

“Pardon?” Choso asks, bewildered.

“I mean, you could have just left me there. I would’ve been fine. I don’t… I clearly don’t belong here. In the grand scheme of things, I’m not even really your br-”

“Enough of this nonsense.” Choso barks, shooting out of his chair.

Yuuji jumps, his jaw dropping open as Choso storms around his side of the desk. He kneels down, placing a firm hand on Yuuji’s.

The look in his eyes is fierce. Unyielding. Displays every ounce of loyalty that his brother must know he has for him.

“You are my brother. In every way. I exist to ensure all my siblings are well cared for, you included. You are welcome here. This will always be your home, no matter the words of others.” 

Choso does not take kindly to people insulting his brothers. This includes when they speak ill of themselves. It’s a line that Choso will not allow anyone to cross.

Yuuji nods in reluctant acceptance, grabbing Choso’s hand back. 

Choso realizes, then, that maybe he had the wrong impression of Yuuji. His expression is plastered with fears that have been lingering under the surface, afraid to come out. He mentally kicks himself for not noticing sooner.

Of course he’d be fucking scared . Yuuji has been uprooted from his home, taken from anything he ever knew. Placed him in a new environment with no preparation, left him to explore a frankly gargantuan manor that is barely filled with material items let alone souls. In his mind, he’s alone. He’s afraid.

Choso has taken the wrong approach.

It’s not easy to fix the mess he’s found himself in. This was not how Choso was raised. Not how he was taught to deal with these kinds of situations. Emotions were not his greatest strength. He shows his care not with words, but rather actions.

He ruffles Yuuji’s hair, and sits back in his chair. 

“Postpone the homework for tomorrow day, Yuuji. Go, enjoy yourself.” He says, trying his best to seem as relaxed as possible.

“Really?!” Yuuji exclaims, jumping up.

Before Choso can even reply and inform him that it’s a one time ordeal, Yuuji has already thrown the door open, his heavy footsteps running down the hall. His brief call for his other brother is heard, and Choso chuckles at the sound.

—

Choso’s laxness with Yuuji has become a curse.

He’s finding it increasingly hard to say ‘no’ to him. He has such a way of convincing Choso to give him anything he wants, really. It’s already hard enough for Choso to not give into any of his brother’s every whims, and the addition of Yuuji to the household has not helped.

Yuuji has been skipping his tutoring sessions. Repeatedly.

Sometimes he won’t even show himself in the first place. He’s off, running around doing god only knows what. While Choso understands that learning doesn’t come easy to young Yuuji, he isn’t even trying to use any of his potential.

Choso has had both maids and butlers out looking for him all day, and no one has reported back with any sightings. Until now. Choso grits his teeth, heels clacking off the styled marble while he marches to the family dining room. The least he could do before running rampant was have the decency to let Choso know he’s safe.  

Choso throws open the double doors, the wood hitting the walls with a loud ‘ bang!’ that makes the three brothers present freeze. 

Eso and Kechizu, his remaining brothers at the estate, stare at him wide eyed. Choso isn’t focused on them. He’s zoned in on Yuuji, who, by the state of his face, absolutely knows that he’s in deep trouble.

“Chos-” 

“Where were you?” Choso grits out.

Yuuji looks down, embarrassed. He stays quiet, and Choso reiterates.

“Yuuji. I asked you a question.”

Eso speaks up, defending Yuuji.

“Brother, give him some leniency. He’s young. He’s allowed to act like it.” Eso points out, pleading for his brother’s case.

“Young he may be, but he has responsibilities that he must take care of. I have only asked one thing of him. To show up .” Choso argues, unwilling to give up this time.

All eyes are on the youngest now. Bashfully, Yuuji twiddles his thumbs. Choso waits in the doorway, arms crossed. 

“...Sorry, Choso. It won’t happen again.” He mutters.

With a deep sigh, Choso relents. He sits in his chair at the head of the table, rubbing his temples. He can feel the migraine forming already.

The kitchen staff bring out the day’s spread of supper, a mouth watering collection of different meats and roasted vegetables. While his younger brothers dig into the meal, Choso pokes at his food, his mind elsewhere.

“Yuuji, what is the book you have there?” Eso asks, pointing beside his plate.

His eyes light up, excited. 

“A fantasy book! The lady next door gave it to me, she’s super nice.” Yuuji exclaims before taking a large sip of wine.

“A fantasy book.” Choso deadpans.

“Yep! It’s super interesting. Lots of dragons and awesome fights.” 

Choso feels his irritation building, but pushes it down.

“Is that where you have been? Speaking with the Viscountess next door?” Choso asks, trying to not lose his cool.

“Not the Viscountess, the daughter! She’s really cool, she does a lot of painting and reading. She lent me the book.” Yuuji replies.

Choso has only met the family next door in passing. He’s not one to interact with many in public, despite how closely the two families live together. The Viscount has been involved in various business ventures, but he knows next to nothing about his daughter. 

It makes him wary. Who is this girl, influencing his brother and filling his mind with nonsense? Taking him away from his studies, his responsibilities?

He won’t let this pass.

“While I am pleased you are making… friends , Yuuji, I would much rather you read textbooks than some fictional story.” Choso points out.

“Yes, Choso.” He murmurs.

Eso, trying to disperse the awkward tension in the air, continues to chat with Yuuji about his various escapades. It continues until the end, where Choso leaves first, bidding his siblings good night.

That evening, Choso can’t sleep. He often finds sleep does not come easy, but it especially escapes him tonight. He stares out the window, watching the trees blow in the wind, wondering how he can fix this. How he can convince Yuuji to be set on the right path.

He decides to get an outside opinion.

—

Nanami Kento is a reasonable man.

The Nanami family has only recently entered into the Ton. They worked their way up from lower class through international trading dealings and business. They are the first family in a very long time to do so, the Queen granting them Baronship.

Choso respects Nanami. He’s a hardworking man with good family values. He also is aware of both ends of life in the Ton, both high class and impoverished. It’s why Choso decides to meet with him for advice on the matter of his youngest brother.

“I am at a loss for how to approach this. He’s wild, untameable. He doesn’t listen. No, refuses to.” Choso says, staring at his cup of tea.

Nanami sits across from him, stirring sugar into his earl grey tea. 

“He likely just needs time. This life is vastly different from the one he was brought up in.” Nanami points out.

“I have provided him time. I have given him every resource I possibly can muster. What if he never adjusts?”

The thought fills Choso with dread. The idea that no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, he will fail his brother. That Yuuji will be led astray, leading an improper life. He would not be able to forgive himself.

Choso’s jaw clenches. He takes a sip of tea in an attempt to calm himself.

Nanami hums, thinking of his next words carefully. 

“It’s possible. You cannot control him, My Lord. From what you’ve relayed to me, it seems like he’s just living as any young boy outside the Ton does. You must realize that while this situation is new to you, it is much more of a monumental change for him.” 

Choso sighs. He calls the maid over to refill the teapot.

“I cannot understand him. We are too different. I was raised in the Ton my entire life. I do not know how to make him more comfortable, nor give him that sense of belonging.” Choso admits.

“Perhaps you should tutor him personally.” Nanami suggests.

“Me?” Choso parrots, surprised.

“Indeed. If he will not attend tutoring with another, it is feasible he may partake if you are the one doing the teaching.”

Choso mulls on his words. He has been extremely busy these days with the workload, constantly having his head in papers into the late hours of the night and early sunrise in the morning. Would he even have time for such a thing?

As if Nanami knows what he’s thinking, he says the words that put the final nail in the coffin for Choso.

“I understand you are a busy man. The boy might appreciate you taking time for him. It could bring you closer.”

And Choso wants nothing more than that.

He stands up, offering his hand out for Nanami.

“I appreciate you taking the time to come and provide advice. I will take this into consideration.” Choso says, a new determination filling him.

Nanami shakes his hand firmly.

“It is my pleasure. Do keep me updated. I would like to know how it goes.” He replies.

Indeed, Choso would like to know as well.

—

It doesn’t go well.

Well, that’s a bit of an over exaggeration. At first, it was pleasant. Yuuji was attending tutoring, finally, with the promise of spending more time with his older brother. He seemed to be catching on well, with Choso taking different approaches in his teaching, finding one that finally seemed to make sense to Yuuji. The boy just needed a more hands on approach is all.

Choso would be lying if he said he wasn’t also enjoying it. It was a fantastic destressor from his everyday duties, and he found Yuuji’s company quite enjoyable. He believed they were finally understanding each other. 

At least, they were at one point.

Yuuji is skipping again.

Choso takes another glance at his watch, realizing that Yuuji is now late by almost an hour. He stands up out of his chair, leaving the library swiftly.

He checks every room he can possibly think of. Each of his brother’s bedrooms, the common room, every study. Hell, he even checks the kitchen and maid’s quarters, knowing that Yuuji has a penchant for bothering the wait staff.

After scanning the house, he finds that his younger brother is nowhere to be seen. He steps into the gardens, taking in the fresh air and sun. Choso closes his eyes, basking in the rays on his pale skin. Patience, he’s finding, is his greatest virtue to be learned from Yuuji.

Choso hears distant laughter.

One voice is coming from a woman he does not recognize. The other is definitely his younger brother. Stupidly, he did not check the one place that Yuuji has said he visited repeatedly. One place he has often used to escape the clutch of his studies.

Next door.

He walks across the gardens in the direction of the voices, shoving his way through hedges and bushes. When he enters the property of his neighbours, he sees them.

Sees you.

“What on Earth is going on here?”

—

Being raised as a woman in the Ton is not easy. Perfection is expected, and your parents provided you the resources to behave as such.

As the daughter of a Viscount, this expectation was amplified tenfold. 

Your great grandfather was the first Viscount of your line, leaving your father as the third. As the only child, a daughter nonetheless, the name will not be passed down to any sons. Many nights, you find yourself wishing you could take on the title yourself, at least to stop the disappointed glares you’ve received your whole life from your father.

You walk down the halls of your childhood estate, nervously toying with the silks of your gown. Your parents summoned you urgently, which is never a good sign. 

You slide on your gloves to hide the paint staining your fingers. Despite your inclination for the arts, and your parent’s urgency in your partaking in womanly hobbies, they would throw a fit to see you so unkempt.

You hear your parents before you see them. Your mother, pamphlet in hand, is discussing the latest gossip in the newest Lady Whistledown paper released that very morning. Your father is entirely uninterested.

“Can you believe it? A bastard, from the esteemed Kamo family. I truly cannot believe they allowed that stain into their household. What must be running through the new Duke’s mind?” Your mother rants, appalled.

“Hm.” Your father replies.

“What a nightmare. I would never allow such a scandal to occur. Maybe the gossip will finally run that hermit and his hooligan brothers out of town.” She scoffs.

Your mother turns to you, waving the pamphlet in the air.

“Dearest, did you hear the latest news?” She asks.

You quietly roll your eyes, taking a seat on the expensive blue furniture.

“I now have.” You reply.

“The Kamo family, finally showing their true colours! Don’t you agree, dear?” She asks your father.

“Indeed.” He flips the page in his book.

Unwilling of any more of your mother’s negativity, you pipe up.

“I think it rather kind of the new Duke to shelter his newest sibling. It is a great testament to his character.” You chirp.

Both your parents gaze at you now, disapprovingly.

“That boy is not a Kamo. They should have left him to rot. Inviting him into the family is a mere testament to his foolishness, nothing more.” Your mother says sternly.

You sigh, resting your head on your hand.

“Why did you call for me, Mother?” You ask, unwilling to argue.

She places the pamphlet on a nearby table, mood suddenly shifting to a more positive note. She stands, sitting beside you. Your mother takes your hands in her own, looking at you earnestly.

“My dear, it is time.” She says.

Her cryptic words leave you feeling both uneasy and confused. 

“...Time for what, Mother?” 

Your father places his book on his lap.

“It is time to open yourself to the Ton. This season, you will be presenting yourself to the Queen as a show for your availability to marry.” He replies, voice devoid of emotion.

Your heart drops.

Marriage?

“B-but, Father, is it not too early? I am still young as of yet, surely we can wait a while long-”

“It is not up for discussion.” He commands strongly.

Your mother takes your chin softly, smiling down at you.

“Dearest, this is something to celebrate! You should be grateful. Marriage is the greatest honour bestowed upon a woman. We have been preparing you since you were a wee child.” She grins.

You push her hand away, standing out of your chair. Your chest heaves with how heavy you breathe, feeling the walls closing in on you. The thought of being married off to any man who pleases to have you makes you feel like one of the cattle grazing in the countryside, mindless and easily manipulatable.

The greatest honour? What a joke. To think that the only honourable purpose you have in this world is to belong to a man. It makes your stomach clench, nausea rising. 

Of course you knew it was coming. If your parents had their way, you would have already been out last season. Successfully, until this point, you’ve managed to put off any betrothals your parents attempted to lure you in with. 

Your luck has run out.

“I don’t want this! Do neither of you care to listen for what I desire?” You shout, appalled.

“You dare speak to us that way? Lower your tone!” Your father shouts.

His voice booms throughout the room, your maid jumping at the sudden increase in volume.

“Don’t be so selfish.” Your mother scoffs, “This is what you were meant to do. What you were always meant to do. I have done it, as has every woman in our lineage. Fix yourself. You are unseemly to gaze upon.” 

A shuddered exhale leaves your body, and your fists clench at your sides. It’s not fair. It never has been.

You hate them. Hate yourself even more for being so compliant. Some things never change, no matter how grown you become.

“... As you wish.”

You storm out of the common room, maid chasing after you frantically.

You fight the tears beginning to make their appearance.

—

The weather, much to your pleasure, had been warming. The grass once covered in frost is now soft under your fingertips. You thread your fingers through the blades, attempting to ground yourself and stop your mind from racing.

Your parent’s words have been on your mind for days. The fear, the dread, the anxiety. It’s overwhelming, and you’ve often found yourself outside to escape the stifling air indoors. A book sits on your lap, untouched. You can only read a few lines before your mind starts to wander.

Thankfully, your maid has allowed you a moment of peace to be by yourself. 

You attempt to begin reading again.

It works briefly. You engross yourself in the words, flesh out the storyline in your mind. It’s rather entertaining.

An object flies over the hedges bordering your estate, landing with a loud ‘thump’ .

You stare at it.

A… ball?

The bushes shake, heavy rustling making their way through. A boy, who can’t be older than eight and ten, forces his way through the greenery, branches sticking out of his pink hair. His eyes lock in on the ball, a hearty grin stretching across his face.

Only when he obtains the leather ball, tossing it between his hands, does he notice you sitting on your bench.

Silence.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude! I was just…” He stammers, gesturing to the ball in his hands.

You stifle a snort, closing the book in your hands.

“Do not fret, all is well. I understand completely.” You reassure, lips upturned.

He sags with relief.

Before you can speak again, he struts over, plopping himself down on the bench beside you. His complete lack of nervousness in the presence of a complete stranger both confuses and intrigues you. 

You scrunch your nose at the smell of sweat from the young boy. He must have been playing for a while.

“My name is Yuuji! I just moved in next door. What’s your name?” He asks cheerfully.

You tell him your name, and only then do you realize who exactly is sitting beside you. 

This must be the illegitimate son your mother was speaking of mere days ago. He isn’t quite what you expected. You had assumed he would be more… Kamo like. Reserved, quiet, socially uncomfortable. He’s the exact opposite you’ve heard from any rumours of the mysterious family.

Yuuji is quite literally sunshine encapsulated.

“You’re my neighbour, right? That’s awesome! I haven’t met anyone here yet. People are kind of mean.” He pouts.

“Indeed. The members of the Ton are not always welcoming to new individuals.” You chuckle.

“That’s an understatement. You seem nice, though! It’s not like I had many friends back home anyways. There weren’t many kids around. Only maids. Not that they weren’t fun to be around! What are you reading?” He rambles.

It’s a breath of fresh air to speak with him. Someone so untouched by the prim and proper expectations of nobility, free from lifelong scrutiny. You’ve long since abandoned laxness, trained to carefully say what words in what specific scenario.

“It is a fiction novel. A fantasy, to be more specific.” You tell him, showing him some of the fake maps illustrated at the beginning.

“A fantasy?” He inquires, looking over your shoulder.

You scoot slightly away from him to increase your distance, knowing what your parents (or anyone, for that matter) would say if they saw the boy so close to an unmarried young lady. Yuuji, obliviously, slides over to follow you.

You smile at him.

“A book about adventure. Knights, princesses, dragons. I rather enjoy a good fiction story. It is… a good distraction from my own life.” You murmur, running your hands along the spine.

“I can understand. Choso doesn’t want me reading fiction. He says I should be focusing on academics. So boring.” Yuuji whines.

“Choso?” You ask.

“My brother!” He chirps.

You don’t know a thing about the new duke besides his title. The previous duke was rather reserved, and his son was even worse. You’ve seen him in passing. Always in a refined black suit with a rich purple cravat. His appearance was much talked about in gossip. A bizarre hairstyle, his eyes bleak and tired with heavy dark circles. The alleged dark scar across his face.

It makes you sad to think the boy is so restricted from his creativity. Surely his brother could stand to be a little more lenient with him, no?

You reach out, offering the book to Yuuji.

“Take it. Read it, tell me what you think of the contents. I am curious to know.” You say.

Immediately, he perks up, glee evident.

“Really?!” He exclaims loudly, surprising you.

He takes the book, about to flip through the pages when his name is called in the distance.

He gawks, rising from his seat and running in the direction in which he came. He yells over his shoulder, waving wildly.

“Thanks! See you soon!” He grins, shoving his way through the hedges once again.

You smile, waving back.

Something tells you that this definitely will not be the last you hear from young Yuuji.

—

And it wasn’t.

Yuuji had continuously come to visit every day since. Some days he would chat your ear off about anything and everything that crossed his mind. Others, he would lay beside you in the grass while you read him the book you lent him.

You have yet to tell anyone of your encounters with the youngest Kamo, least of all your parents. You know it would be a scandal, and anyone in society would agree that it is unseemly. 

Despite this, you’ve realized from your encounters with Yuuji that you’ve been achingly, desperately lonely. You have no siblings. Your parents rarely converse with you under the pretense that they have more important matters to tend to. Any acquaintances you have had left during the off season for the countryside.

Yuuji is like the little brother you never had. You enjoy caring for him, simply lending him company at the simplest of times. In addition, Yuuji has proved to be a great distraction from your impending inevitable betrothal.

From time to time, Yuuji will convince you to play various games with him. On this particular occasion, it’s an intense game of Pall Mall. 

Yuuji lines up his mallet, focusing in. Cicadas ring in the distance, the heat making you sweat. You watch him in anticipation while he winds up for the hit, landing the swing with a loud ‘thwap’! The ball goes flying through the second hoop with ease.

You cheer, clapping profusely. He jumps up as well, laughing loudly.

“Yuuji! I was not aware you were so proficient in sports. You should have warned me before I agreed to such a losing game.” You tease, poking him with your mallet.

He blushes, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

“I’ve played sports my whole life. It was all I could do, really.” He says wistfully.

You place a hand on his shoulder.

“It is a great talent indeed. You should feel proud.” You tell him softly.

He smiles sadly. At his sudden silence, which is so unlike him, you prod further.

“Yuuji? Are you quite alright?” You ask.

He purses his lips, thinking about his next words carefully.

“I… yes. I am just missing my old home.” He mutters, rolling his mallet in his hands.

“Oh Yuuji…” You say, glancing at him woefully, “Perhaps you should visit. I’m sure you can spare one afternoon away from your studies.”

“Maybe. I don’t want Choso to think I am… ungrateful. I’m not! I actually am very thankful to him for everything he’s done for me. I just…” He sighs loudly, “I can tell I am not what he anticipated I would be. That I am not living up to his expectations.”

He walks over to his ball. You watch him, letting him express his frustrations.

“In truth, I never wanted this. I was happy, truly, despite not having anything to my name. I didn’t ask to be thrust into nobility. It’s hard to have so much resting on my shoulders. I am the opposite of all my brothers, especially Choso. I just wish… that I belonged.” He trails off, face forlorn.

You think of what to say. You raise your mallet, hitting your ball. It lands just short of the hoop. Walking closer to Yuuji, you tell him your honest thoughts.

“It’s possible you are different from your brothers. I cannot truly say, for I do not know them as you do. What I do know, however, is that belonging is not a matter of difference. Possessing differences is what constructs us as human . Belonging is the individuals you surround yourself with. I am certain that your brothers would say you belong with them, as would I.” 

You place a hand on his shoulder, smiling.

“You are one of a kind, Yuuji. Do not change yourself to fit into society. You will find your community, and there are people here who already adore you just the way you are.”

His lower lip trembles.

Lean arms wrap around you, entrapping you in a close hug. You hold him closer, shushing him gently.

“Thank you, Big Sister.” He whispers.

Against your wishes, a wide smile crosses your face.

“Big Sister?” You tease, his arms still wrapped around you.

While you may tease him, your heart squeezes at his vulnerability. Perhaps you were meant to have a sibling after all.

“Shush.” He says, voice muffled by your dress.

You laugh, pulling away and patting him on the cheek.

“Come, Yuuji. Let us finish the game. You must hurry and win to spare me the humiliation for much longer.”

To your greatest pleasure, he beams.

—

Yuuji disappears for a few days after that. While you miss his presence, you understand that he has much studying to do, and is conversing with his brothers. You hope that, after your conversation the previous week, he is focusing more energy on spending time with them, not withheld by the fear of not fitting in.

You yourself have been quite busy, regardless. Your mother has taken to preparing you for the upcoming season, much to your dismay. Many public appearances, many trips to the modiste for fittings and tailoring gowns.

This is excluding the near constant meetings with tutors and distant betrothed female cousins alike. Your parents are making it abundantly clear that you will be married off this season, regardless of your feelings on the matter.

“Mother! I am going to relax in the gardens!” You yell out, grabbing your kit of paint and a small canvas.

You don’t wait up for her distant reply, and your heels make a soft tapping noise while you run outside. 

Your brushes softly scrape against the canvas. The azure ink seeps in, leaving behind a picturesque landscape. There is no plan when you start painting, really. It’s rather cathartic to let your hands guide you. To feel the sun on your skin, the serenity of silence, and just be.

In your art, there is no pressure. No desire for perfection. None of the constant lingering eye society casts upon you. 

It’s perfection in a small, colourful palette of pigment.

“What are you up to, Big Sis?”

“Yuuji!” You exclaim, mood suddenly much lighter.

He smiles cheekily, his attempts to sneak up on you a failure. He’s dressed down rather casually, simply donning a loose linen top and red slacks. He looks calmer. More at peace.

When he sits beside you, you pat him on the head.

“It has been too long. How have you been?” You ask him, placing your brush on the easel.

“Good! Choso has been tutoring me. I’ve been taking in what you said as well, just focusing on becoming closer to my brothers.” He smiles, fiddling with your cup of brushes.

“I’m glad to hear it.” You tell him earnestly, “Come, paint with me. I happened to acquire another canvas just in case.”

You find that, much like yourself, Yuuji is a very messy artist. A very talented one, but one that leaves the task covered in various streaks of pigment. You chuckle while the two of you catch up, seeing his focus and the smear of green across his face.

“How is it tutoring under your brother? Is he behaving patiently enough with you?” You ask.

Yuuji sighs.

“Yes, he has. It’s much better than being educated by a random stranger. It still doesn’t make me any more interested in what I’m learning, though. Especially mathematics.” He pouts.

You laugh, dipping your brush in water. The white paint ripples through the jar like smoke.

“I’ve never been much of a fan of mathematics myself. Too much thinking required for such menial tasks.” You muse.

“Tell me about it.” He groans, dipping his small brush in the yellow pot of paint.

When he wipes the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand, another streak of paint is left in its place. You stifle a laugh.

“Yuuji, are you painting the canvas or yourself?”

“Huh?” He asks, confused.

You pull a small mirror from your kit, showing him his reflection. His cheeks burn red, and you cannot hold in the giggles any longer.

“Shut up! You don’t look much better!” He grins, pointing at you accusingly.

It’s true. You are wearing the gown you generally sacrifice for such activities, stained with various colours. You flick your brush at him at his cheekiness, the spatter painting his ivory skin orange. He gawks, flicking back in retaliation.

You gape at him in fake outrage, moving to give him another flick of paint.

It becomes a full blown paint fight, the pigments meant to be placed onto the canvas now scattered on clothes, the stone underneath you, and the table. Screams are exchanged, faux arguments laced with fits of uncontrollable laughter.

Briefly, in the back of your mind, you imagine the picture the two of you create. You’re lucky no one will see you like this.

“What on Earth is going on here?”

Chapter Text

You’ve never actually heard your neighbour speak.

Really, you have only seen him in public thrice. Even then, his expression was monotone, his aura carrying an air of indifference to that around him. It’s a complete change from what you’re seeing now, which happens to be pure vitriol.

The duke is positively seething, his fists clenched tightly as he storms over to you and your younger companion. There’s a leaf in his hair, no doubt from the way he pushed himself through the greenery surrounding your estate.

“Choso!?” Yuuji exclaims, shooting up from his chair.

“I should have known you would be here.” He starts, making his way up the stone stairs, “Wasting away your time, partaking in frivolous activities while you ought to be back at the estate, with me, studying!”

His voice gradually grows louder as he speaks, as if he gets increasingly more irate as words continue to spill. You watch him, eyes wide, too stunned to speak.

“I-”

“No. Not another word from you. I took time away from the family business to be with you and it means absolutely nothing in your eyes. Do you ever think?!” Choso yells, cutting off his brother.

The hairs on your neck stand up. Immediately, you rush to the defense of Yuuji, who appears absolutely mortified.

“Your grace-” You step in sternly.

He swivels in your direction, sticking out a finger directly at you.

“You.” Choso spits, malice dripping from his words.

“You dare sit here, unmarried and unchaperoned, with my younger brother? Knowingly distracting him from his duties?”

You scoff at him, rising from your seat to stand at his level.

“I sit here, your grace, providing the companionship and care for your brother you so clearly are unable to give. What sort of brother are you, standing before your sibling positively berating him? In front of a lady, no less? You should feel ashamed!” You yell.

“Ashamed?” He laughs in disbelief. “I-”

“Yes, quite. Perhaps if you only listened to your brother’s thoughts instead of acting in your best interests, he would be inclined to stay on your property more often.” You frown, feeling the anger swelling in your chest.

Choso sputters. It’s clear, to you, that he is not used to being talked back to. Generally, you allow yourself to be walked on. You concede. Not for Yuuji. Never for him.

The duke regains his composure, eyebrows furrowing. His voice drops low, anger morphing from explosive to a simmering boil.

“Are your parents aware of the ways you spend your time? It’s quite unbecoming for a lady. The Ton would be scandalized. It would be an awful shame for it to get out.” He threatens.

“The Ton, Duke, already has their eyes on you. My time spent with Yuuji is nothing in comparison.”

He steps closer, pushing past his younger brother.

“They have a short attention span. The men, however, never forget. It is most certainly bound to put a halt to whatever plans you have for betrothal.” He sneers, towering over you. “Not that any man would have interest in a woman so positively horrid.”

“Enough!”

Yuuji places a hand on his brother’s chest, pushing him backwards and away from you. Choso, surprised by his brother’s sudden outburst, stumbled slightly. Perhaps wrongly, you feel a sense of pride that Yuuji is standing up to his older brother.

“Yuuj-”

“No. No more. Let’s go back, Choso.” Yuuji says, bottom lip trembling.

He turns to look at you, and you resist the urge to comfort him. Yuuji looks genuinely distraught, and it pains you to know that you could be the cause.

“I’ll see you later, Big Sis.” He murmurs, grabbing his brother by the arm and dragging him away.

Choso stares at him.

You watch them leave, still covered in paint, and left with a looming sense of anxiety. Your heart races in your chest, mind unused to the adrenaline of speaking up.

While you did not process the duke’s words in the moment, the aftermath of the situation weighs heavy. You just spoke poorly of the duke to his face, a duke belonging to one of the most powerful families in the Ton. Talked down upon his skills as a brother, shamed his character.

There is a very, very good chance that you made a mistake. A grave one.

—

Choso has gone through the past few days in a mindless haze.

He can’t think straight, can’t focus. Every time he signs his name on another business related document he has no idea what he’s actually signing off on. Surely, whatever pursuits he is agreeing to will come back to haunt him later.

When he attempts to focus, Yuuji’s voice rings out in his ear like some nightmare hallucination.

“I’ll see you later, Big Sis.”

Big Sis.

What a joke. A sick, evil joke being played on him.

Yuuji has yet to call Choso brother. Him, who took Yuuji in, fed him, cared for him, tried to give him every opportunity he could possibly have. Despite how hard he’s tried, Yuuji has not called him brother. Will not see him as such. Yet somehow, for whatever reason that Choso has yet to grasp, Yuuji refers to you as his sibling.

You.

Gods, Choso bloody hates you. What do you provide for Yuuji that Choso is not currently tending to? Matter of factly, you don’t do anything for him.

Choso rips out his pocket watch, checking the time before throwing it down roughly on his desk.

He’s glad he scorned you. Thankful he managed to tell you what he truly thought. After all, you were a mere ant in the grand scheme of his life. Another flame threatening to ruin his family that he has snuffed out promptly. It has happened before, and it will happen long after you are ejected from their lives.

In the end, it ended up bringing Yuuji closer. He has not left the estate since then.

And no, that nagging, aching feeling he gets when he sees Yuuji studying constantly without question is not guilt. It could never be. The feeling is most definitely pride. He is proud that Yuuji is doing what he is supposed to. What is going to set him on the proper path.

In fact, because of the fact that his younger brother is studying so consistently, Choso decides in the spur of the moment that he’s going to take him out on the town. A peruse of the Ton. Surely, there is no better way to better accustom him to society, and a sure way to bring the two of them closer.

“Come, Yuuji. We must stop at this store.” Choso says, ushering his younger brother inside.

The Ton’s finest tailor is a gentle man, hair greying and demeanor calm. His store smells of leather and soft cashmere, the dark wood an inviting sight.

Choso sits while Yuuji gets fitted for new suits, the tailor quietly taking measurements. His younger brother looks entirely out of his element, which makes Choso chuckle.

“I understand it is odd, Yuuji, but you have a decided lack of proper attire. If you are truly to be integrated into the Ton, you must begin public appearances this season.” Choso states from his chair.

“Season?” Yuuji questions curiously.

“Indeed. Every year, the so-called marital mart begins. Every member of the Ton is back in town, and all eligible suitors attend various balls in order to find their match. It is a precarious affair, but one great for branching out and creating connections.” He explains, taking a sip of the tea provided.

Yuuji’s face pales, and Choso tilts his head inquisitively.

“Am… am I getting married?” Yuuji squeaks.

Choso laughs heartily this time, his chuckles sputtering out into a rough cough at his brother’s look of indignation.

“No, you are far too young. But, your presence is required, as is mine.” Choso smiles.

His brother takes a deep sigh of relief. The tailor moves to take measurements of his legs. He perks up soon after, gazing at Choso through the mirror.

“Are you getting married, then?”

He stills at that, teacup in hand.

“No.”

“Why not? You’re definitely old enough if I’m not.” Yuuji asks.

He ignores Yuuji’s unintentional jab at his age, instead focusing on the first half of his question.

“I do not have time for such… distractions. My focus is on you and the rest of our brothers.” Choso decides on.

Yuuji hums. The tailor takes measurements of his wingspan, measuring tape going from shoulder to fingertips.

“I guess. Wouldn’t it make you at least a little pleased, though?” Yuuji ponders out loud.

Choso isn’t opposed to Yuuji’s line of questioning. It’s innocent chatter. He’s new to the Ton. Doesn’t understand that if you don’t have the proper footing, you get sucked under the current without a second thought. Choso’s only goal is to make sure that it doesn’t happen to his brothers.

Marriage is a commodity of status. Choso has never cared about his social standing.

“I’m afraid not.” He says instead, taking a sip from his cup.

Choso and Yuuji decide on colours that match the house Kamo, eventually coming to a mutual agreement after much bickering. The two leave the shop shortly after, continuing on with the promise from the tailor to have Yuuji’s suits prepared for season come.

Choso absentmindedly listens to Yuuji talk, humming when necessary in conversation. He’s more focused on the people who stare when they walk past. He can hear their whispers, and Choso isn’t unconvinced that they’re not trying to hide them. Whispers of Choso’s late father, of Yuuji, of him. It’s not often anyone from his family is seen in the public eye, and least of all Choso.

He knows that he shouldn’t be listening. He’s never cared about the chatter of the Ton before, why bother now? Perhaps it’s the whisper of his brother’s name that sends uneasy chills down his spine. He knows what people think of Yuuji and his acceptance into the household. He just wants to protect him from scrutiny, from the town’s ire.

He needs to make a proper public appearance, and soon. The Ton needs to be aware that Yuuji is a fully legitimate child in the family’s eye, no questions asked.

“Hey, Choso?”

“Yes?” He replies, voice strong.

He watches his brother shuffle uncomfortably for a moment. Sees the way he bites his lip in clear nervousness. He resists the urge to command him to just spit it out, and instead taps in to some of the patience he had been really using up lately.

“... What was he like? Your…our, father?”

Choso goes quiet. For a weak moment, he thinks about lying. He thinks about sparing Yuuji’s feelings, his hopes and dreams for what his father could have been.

Choso could boast about his father’s achievements. He was debating sharing how their father was kind, loving, and wanted the best for his wife and children. How he looked up to him, wanted to be like him when he grew to an adult. That their father was a good man who swore to make a positive impression on every person he met.

It would all be utter bullshit.

“He was horrid.” Choso simply states.

“...horrid?” Yuuji repeats, as if testing the word on his tongue.

“Indeed. He was an awful man. He was cruel, vindictive, and the only thing that brought him joy was seeing others in pain.” Choso pauses, “I am truly glad you never met him.”

Because only God knows how he would have treated Yuuji had they met on this Earth.

His brother lets out a soft ‘oh’, choosing to mull over Choso’s words in silence. Choso stares at the budding greenery while they walk along cobblestone streets. Alas, it truly must be time for the season to start. The weather is moving along according to plan.

“I’m sorry you had to live with him.” Yuuji suddenly states.

When Choso turns to him, he’s surprised by the intensity of his younger brother’s eyes. It makes him feel bare. Vulnerable. Like he’s a boy again staring up at the shadow of his father’s fist.

Choso chooses not to tell him the full story, and omits the part where if he were subjected to reliving his childhood once over, he would still take all the lashings in place of his brothers every single time again and again. Would throw his small frame over his mother to shield her, would take the blame for every foolish accident his brothers made. So, he says the only words that dare come instead.

“Don’t be.”

Choso is glad that at least his brother is easily distracted. The atmosphere immediately changed when he saw a sweets shop, Yuuji clearly forgetting about the previous conversation almost instantaneously.

It allows him a moment to relax. Even with the brothers he grew up with, he never spoke about the childhood they endured. It just wasn’t something Choso ever felt like sharing. He felt, however, that he owed Yuuji a little piece of his lineage. Something to fit the puzzle pieces together.

“Big sis?!”

Choso promptly kills his line of thinking and looks straight ahead. His mood immediately sours, jaw clenched instinctually.

Of course they run into you.

—

Of course you run into him.

The two brothers are seemingly having a shopping spree, their butler behind them carrying multiple bags of product. Yuuji, as joyous as ever, sprints to meet you at your position. You just wanted some time away from your suffocating household, only to be met with an even more precarious situation.

“Yuuji! I’m surprised to see you here.” You smile, the grin not quite reaching your eyes.

How could it, when the newly appointed Duke of Devonshire is staring awful daggers at you? Your maid behind you shifts uncomfortably at the tension, while Yuuji remains unaware.

“Me too! What are you doing here? Hey, Choso, can she join us? Please?” Yuuji turns to his brother, his voice a high plea.

“Oh, no! I wouldn’t dare intrude.” You interrupt, shaking your hands.

“Good.” Choso mutters under his breath.

“Nonsense! Choso?”

Silently, you’re praying for him to say no. You love Yuuji with all your heart, you truly do. But his brother is downright insufferable, and you’d rather not deal with him at all. Your heart drops when you see the brief softening of the Duke’s eyes at his brother’s pleading. Sinks even more when that gaze towards his sibling is followed by a nasty side-eye at you.

“...Alright.” He concedes.

The immediate whoops that follow from Yuuji catch the attention of multiple passerbys, and you resist the urge to grip your hair and yank it right out.

Especially when Yuuji runs ahead of you, lost in his own thoughts, leaving you to stroll beside his older brother. As soon as Yuuji is out of earshot, Choso speaks.

“You couldn’t resist butting into our time, could you?” He seethes.

You scoff, not bothering to look up at him.

“Don’t be so conceited. Not everything is about you.” You quip back.

“Right, of course.” He rolls his eyes, “The same way that you attempting to turn my brother against me has nothing to do with me either?”

“Exactly. I’m glad you are finally understanding.” You say, continuing, “And I’m not turning your brother against you. He just happens to like me better. No shame in that.”

In your peripheral, you can see the way he bristles at your words. His hands clench at his sides before forcibly relaxing and smoothing out his tailored suit.

“I’m his brother. You’re insignificant in his life compared to me.”

“Right, keep telling yourself that.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He grits out.

Yuuji takes a turn down a side street, and the two of you swivel to follow him.

“It means that maybe if you took the stick out of your arse he would actually want to spend time with you.” You whisper venomously.

He lets out an indignant laugh, tight and restricted.

“You know, for a lady you have the vocabulary of a damned brute. I’m not surprised you’re unmarried.” He sneers.

“And what about you, then? I wouldn’t be shocked to discover you’ve scared off any potential suitors with your insufferable personality.” You jab, offended.

“As a man, I have better things to do than worry about suitors. Have the paint fumes gotten to your head?” He jeers with a pointed smirk.

“You are-” You grumble, before pausing.

He’s already looking down at you, and you make true eye contact with him for the first time. Your breathing is heavy, your body worked up with all the back and forth.

His shoulders are pulled back, making his already big frame even bigger. His jaw is clenched, pure malice in his eyes. You’re not scared of him. This isn’t the first time you’ve faced such vitriol in a man’s expression.

So what is this feeling in your chest when he glares down at you? Your heart is pumping, not having spoken up like this in your life until now.

“- an ogre. A bloody ogre of a man.” You finish, looking away.

“I’m so hurt.” He states, voice overtly monotone.

“Big sister! Choso! I want to go in here!” Yuuji calls out from a few paces ahead, a wide smile on his face as he points to the shop of his choosing.

A bookstore.

“Of course! Let us go in.” You say, pushing Yuuji into the store and leaving his brother and your maid behind.

The bell atop the door chimes as you enter. It’s an old, dusty bookshop. Rickety shelves, wooden floorboards that creak under your every step. However, you know this bookstore, and being in here is a great sense of comfort right now. There’s no other bookstore in the Ton that has as wide and diverse of a collection as this, and you often spend your time here.

Having the Duke here now feels like an invasion of space.

Yuuji walks along the store, running his fingers along the spines of books as he moves. The two of you watch him, each now dedicated to ignoring the other. Your maid, having witnessed the whole ordeal, stands behind you flabbergasted.

You decide to split away from the two to get some air.

Not that there is much air in the bookstore. It’s stuffy, dust flying around and the overwhelming scent of leather and raw paper permeating the air around you.

You pick up the occasional copy, reading the synopsis and putting it back. Romance novels, the occasional fantasy or mystery book. You pick up a romance novel where the two main characters hate each other, and you huff out a laugh.

They don’t know what it’s really like to hate someone, you think, as you stare daggers at the man you despise through the bookshelf.

That’s not quite fair, you think briefly. You don’t really hate him, per se. You hate his entitlement. His pride. His affliction towards always wanted to be a bastard. Clearly there is something in him worth liking, as Yuuji seems to still want to impress and be close to him.

You never want to be close enough to figure it out. You might die of a heart attack if you deal with him for more than a few minutes at a time.

The chatter from the other side of the store gets louder, and you put the book in your hands back on the shelf. Stepping towards the noise, you listen in to the conversation being had.

“-I do not care. Put it back.”

“Choso, please! It’s just a book. I really want it.”

“I already told you no. You don’t ever listen to me. What about this one? It is philosophy. Important for your education.”

Fighting again, it seems.

“What is going on?” You ask, stepping around the corner.

Yuuji is obviously frustrated, holding a small book in his hands. Choso, even more irate, is across from him.

“Nothing.” He murmurs, placing the book down on the shelf.

“Yuuji…” Choso lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his temples.

You pick up the book the younger dropped. A fiction, of course. Another fantasy, more specifically. That must’ve been the issue. You’re well aware of how little the Duke sees in fiction novels. You stare at it in your palms for a moment before you make the decision.

“Hey, Yuuji, I have this book. I can lend it to you to read in your spare time.”

He perks up, positively beaming when he turns around.

“Really?!” He exclaims.

You can see Choso scowling at you, opening his mouth to speak. You quickly move to correct yourself before he can dig himself into a deeper hole with Yuuji.

“Now remember, just during your free time! It should not interfere with your studying.” You emphasize.

He nods vehemently. Yuuji lets out a loud repeated ‘thank you’ and grins at Choso before giving him a bruising hug. Choso’s eyes widened in surprise. Before he can process, Yuuji is already gone, skipping ahead once more.

You watch him go, a soft smile on your face.

Choso, instead, watches you.

Chapter Text

You really, really hated societal norms.

Well, that’s a lie. You do not bother yourself with such matters as long as it has nothing to do with you. Unfortunately, you have reached a point where that is no longer the case.

You stand, dolled up beyond your wildest dreams at the Queen’s castle. Adjusting the frumpy plume of feathers atop your head, you prepare to enter the hall where you will officially be introduced as an out woman of society. Otherwise known as the lion’s den.

Donned in all white from head to toe, you just want to be home and away from whatever… this is.

Your mind is elsewhere, thinking instead of your interaction with the Kamo brothers the previous week. You had continued to spend the rest of the afternoon with them. Yourself and the Duke mostly kept to yourselves, occasionally interacting for the happiness of Yuuji.

It’s been on your mind for days.

The other girls look excited. Happy to be in the presence of the Queen, for this next chapter in their life. Marriage. How exciting, being stripped of your freedoms. Your mother notices your sour attitude and gives you a pinch on your arm.

“Ouch, Mother!” You hiss.

“Stand with your back straight. You look like a neanderthal.” She says, rolling her eyes, “And put a smile on that face. Now.”

You sigh dramatically, standing with your back a little taller. Your corset is tight, too tight, the restricted airflow and stomach pain making it harder to stay calm. The stitching on your sleeves is slightly off, the beads scratching your arms.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just wait another year.” You mutter.

Your mother straightens out her own gown, preparing to be seen by the Queen once more.

“Because, dearest, we’re getting sick of your rebellious trysts. Marriage is what’s best for you. You just need to have faith.”

Faith.

Faith in being married off to some random man who will do God only knows what with you. Maybe you will just be a porcelain doll, nothing but a pretty face. Maybe you’ll get lucky and your husband will have other women he has more interest in, allowing you to roam free.

“Her royal majesty, Queen Mei Mei!”

You’re not expecting to find love. Naivety is the enemy of self preservation. A love match is so rare that you’d have to be blessed by a particularly lucky star. You hope your future husband is at least only a few years older than you. Your dear friend from childhood was not so lucky.

The young ladies of the Ton begin to enter the hall one by one, getting closer to your spot in the line. Deep breaths, you remind yourself. The nerves are getting to you.

“Nerves?” Your mother murmurs, knowing how to read you.

You nod. She hums, staring straight ahead.

“You are beautiful. She will love you.”

Your name is called.

Everyone in the room turns to look at you.

The Queen waits at the end, a soft smile etching on her face when she sees you. You begin to walk, heels clacking off the pristine marble. You interlock your hands in front of you to hide the shaking that everyone will inevitably see if you don’t.

You reach the throne, and you bow, gaze at the floor.

“I was wondering when I would see you walk across my floor, young lady.” The Queen says, a cheeky tone to her voice.

You return back to standing, trying your best to keep your voice even.

“As was I, your majesty.”

—

The first ball of the season, of course, is always at the Gojo estate.

From the rumours you have heard from whispers and jabs, the man is quite the partier and player of ladies’ hearts. You have never had the honour of attending such a lavish event until now.

Yourself and your mother decide on a delicate baby blue gown with an elaborate beaded bodice for your entry into society. Cream coloured flowers intertwine into your hair, blue dyed diamond jewellery, long gloves and short heels slipped on as a final accessory.

You stare at the mirror in your room at yourself for a little longer than is likely necessary. You wonder, for the briefest moment, when you grew older. It felt like not too long ago that you were just a girl, galavanting around your house, not a care in the world. Your face is more defined, cheekbones no longer carrying the baby fat you had until you were eight and ten.

More serious.

“It’s time, my lady.” Your maid speaks from the doorway.

You take a deep breath, letting it out with a smile as you nod at her.

The carriage ride is just as quiet as your time of reflection alone in your room. Your father is apathetic, as always. Your mother has finally finished her tirade of expectations she expects from you tonight.

The carriage, on the way out, passes by the Kamo estate.

It seems rather empty.

You cringe at the notion that the Duke of Devonshire could be there tonight, of all days. Why would he choose to make an appearance now, on the day of your debut? He’s never cared about public appearances before. To bring the hermit out of his cage… this event is perhaps bigger than you previously anticipated.

This is too much. Too overwhelming.

Maybe you should be grateful to the Duke. The combination of nerves from the ball and the presence of your least favourite person at the moment ought to be enough of a hit to your personality to scare away any potential suitors.

“Not that any man would have interest in a woman so positively horrid.”

What an insufferable, wretched ogre.

You really, really hate him.

The Gojo estate is grand indeed, much living up to its name. The front contains numerous statues and fountains, some of them bearing designs you’ve never quite seen before. The crowd is already present, people walking into the estate arm in arm.

The interior is just as lavish, trimmed in gold and dripping in crystals. You’ve never seen a house quite so large. You wonder if Prince Gojo is just as lavish as his home.

You walk through the double doors, looking down at the crowd below. There is music, dancing, and cheers. Drinks are passed around like small candies.

All the commotion, and all you can see is him.

—

Choso hates crowds.

He is relatively antisocial, which is already bad enough. Create the addition of drunkards bumping into him every second and boisterous laughter in his ears? He truly is in for a bad time.

“How is the boy?” Nanami asks from beside him.

He sighs a great, deep sigh. He lost track of Yuuji earlier in the night after he seemed to make friends with some of the other younger children in attendance. He thought the black haired boy by his side seemed familiar, but couldn’t quite place it.

“I attempted to take your advice.” Choso begins.

“Attempted?” Nanami asks, amused.

“Indeed. He ended up running off again. Repeatedly. I’ve come to discover the root of his rebellion, however.” Choso replies, mood souring further.

Nanami takes a sip of his drink, pushing an already drunk Gojo off his shoulder when he leans for support.

“And what might that be?”

“The lady next door. He’s been running off with her doing foolish nonsense, speaking about who knows what. She’s vile, that one. A silver tongue and a devilish persona.” He seethes just thinking about you.

“Oh, the viscount’s daughter? From what I heard she’s rather reserved.” Gojo slurs.

Nanami cringes at Gojo’s alcohol ridden breath.

“Mind your own business. We’re having a conversation between men.”

Gojo gawks, clearly offended.

“Hey!”

Choso rolls his eyes, taking a small step away from the bickering men.

“I have tried to get rid of her, but she’s stubborn, and Yuuji even worse. I thought I had made a breakthrough until a few days back.”

“Maybe he needs this. They seem to get along, and he doesn’t have any other friends.” Nanami suggests, Gojo nodding vehemently beside him.

He can feel his face scrunch up at the mere suggestion.

“He does not need friends. He has myself and our other brothers.” He states, proud and with finality.

Nanami and Gojo spare each other a quick glance, and Gojo turns to Choso, shrugging.

“Lord Kamo. Maybe you just need- ah. Speak of the devil.” He grins, pointing upwards.

You always manage to appear where he least wants to see you. He should have known better than to hope you would not be out this season.

You stand at the top of the stairs, perfection incarnate. Dress tidy, jewellery sparkling, not a hair out of place. The colour of your beaded attire almost makes you look angelic, he might say if he were a lesser man. But alas, he knows the truth of how you really are.

He’s not swayed by pretty exteriors.

Your eyes lock.

Choso scowls, and Prince Gojo laughs at him openly.

“Damn! She really pissed you off, huh?” Gojo snickers, still clinging to Nanami who now has accepted his fate.

“Speak like your title.” Nanami scolds.

—

Looking away from an obviously irate Duke Kamo, you make your way down the stairs. Your caller card is on your arm, and immediately a man you don’t recognize asks you for the next dance.

You shift uncomfortably, before your mother pushes you forward with an unencouraging “of course!”

While you knew how to dance, this man very obviously did not.

Every other movement he would step on the tips of your heels, throwing you off balance. He would apologize after every mishap with a bashful smile, and you grit your teeth as you accepted the apologies like a good woman should.

The dances that followed were all the same. Forced smiles and fake laughs over jokes at the expense of your sex. What on Earth were these men thinking? Is this how the other women of the Ton were wooed?

Stepping off to the drink table, you go to grab a refreshment after all the dancing and speaking.

You would be surprised if any of these men had any thoughts at all in their clearly emptied skulls. Is it too much to ask for a man with a little intelligence? A man who did not stink the air with his absolute incompetence? None of these men had any hobbies other than degrading women and the lower class, and they couldn’t even pretend otherwise.

Sighing, you reach for a cup, only for another hand to reach for the same one.

“Pardon-”

“Excuse-”

You look up to meet a familiar set of tired, amber eyes.

You frown, grabbing the drink without hesitation once you realize who is beside you. He groans, running a hand over his face.

“Why is it always you?” The Duke groans, clearly asking God and not you.

You roll your eyes at his dramaticism, squinting at him disapprovingly.

“You are ridiculous. What are you doing here anyways? You never show your face in public.” You sneer, taking a sip of your lemonade.

“It’s none of your business what I am doing here. I do not even need to ask, clearly you’re here trying to steal the souls of the innocent men of the Ton. How is your success rate so far, by the way?” He jabs, grabbing a glass of his own.

“My success rate is just fine, thank you for asking. I’ve had plenty of dances thus far. No woman has approached you as of yet, I assume?” You ask innocently, batting your eyelashes.

Realistically, you know the truth. You’ve seen women approach him all night, and each one has been cast away without a second glance. Some deeper part of you wants to know why he is turning away all these eligible women. Hell, you even saw a daughter of a well known Marquess get shooed off.

His eyes narrow at your words, and his strong jaw is tense. His large frame towers over your own. His voice is quiet, quiet enough that only you and you alone can hear him.

“I am not interested in marriage.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

“You’re rather nosy.”

“I try.”

He sighs, before deciding to answer honestly.

“It is not fiction, it is fact. I don’t concern myself with vows to another. I have more important duties to tend to.” He says.

“What duties?” You ask, raising an eyebrow, “Respectfully, my Lord, shouldn’t you be concerned with passing down your title?”

“My brothers.”

You pause at that, not expecting his answer.

“I am quite sure your brothers would survive if you married.” You decide on.

He rolls his eyes, as if talking to a petulant child with no understanding. It makes you bristle again, remembering the man you’re talking to.

“I know they would, I’m not a fool. Surviving is the least I want from them. I desire them to flourish in this world, and I cannot focus on making that happen if I have a wife on my arm. It would be another responsibility I do not intend to take on.”

“That is…” You trail off.

…Surprisingly reasonable of him. You’re not sure where his sudden bout of seriousness arose from, but you did not expect to even slightly understand his point of view. Surely, though, he still intends to marry? Marriage in the Ton is a business transaction. A man of his status is only one step lower than Prince Gojo. Does he not care even a little?

“I cannot say I completely understand. I am an only child. A woman, as well. I was never taught to reach for something other than marriage.” You confess.

He’s silent for a moment.

“It must be lonely.” The Duke states solemnly.

The two of you stare at the dancefloor, at the people circling around each other, all smiles and laughter. At those having genuine human connection. You take another sip of lemonade.

“Perhaps it is.” You say wistfully. “I cannot imagine living in a house with… how many brothers do you have?”

“Nine.”

A noise of surprise slips out of you. Nine? His poor mother.

You turn to reply to him, only to find him still looking ahead. His scar across his face is illuminated in this lighting. He’s wearing something slightly different today. A dark purple vest as opposed to the usual black, and a lilac coloured cravat.

You’ve never seen him without a scowl on his face. The way his hair frames his face makes his features much softer, his shoulders much broader. You study the shadows of his cheekbones and jawline with minor awe, your lips parted slightly. Your heart skips a beat.

He’s almost… almost handso-

“What are you looking at?” He sneers down at you.

Ah. Nevermind.

“You have serious issues, my Lord.” You reply monotonously before walking away.

You can hear his scoff behind you as you leave. You keep walking anyways without turning back.

A waiter comes by to take your empty glass from you. As the waiter passes by, there’s a man standing directly behind him looking at you. You squeak in surprise, and he lets out a gentle laugh.

“Apologies, my lady. I did not mean to startle you.” He speaks, voice saccharine and smooth.

You don’t think you have ever met a man so blatantly beautiful. Long, silky black hair reaching down to his mid back, odd ear piercings that you’ve never quite seen before. He’s dressed in a lavish emerald green suit, his shoes decorated with gold.

You feel your ears run hot, suddenly nervous.

“Ah, please do not apologize! I am just on edge is all, my Lord.” You shyly tell him.

He reaches out his arm, taking your hand in his own. Ever so gently, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand, and introduces himself.

“Suguru Geto, Earl of York. It is quite a pleasure to meet you, my lady.” He begins, “I have had my eye on you for some time now, and I knew I had to introduce myself.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lord Geto.” You say with a gentle bow.

Time seems to stop when he looks at you. His eyes are narrowed, zoned in on you like a serpent. You remove your hand from him, brushing his face with your finger briefly as you pull back. His smile widens, and you quite like the upward curve of his lips.

“May I interest you in a dance?”

Suguru Geto moves with grace, his words dripping in sweet decadent honey. Not even the finest orchestra could make a sound quite as pleasant. The song changes, just in time for his proposition, as if fate had aligned this moment for you.

“Of course. You are in luck, my caller card happened to just have a space opened up.”

He grins. Lord Geto takes you to the floor, your arm laced in his.

“So, my dear, how is your first ball? It must be overwhelming.” He murmurs.

You sigh, feeling the weight that was lifted from his first introduction slowly piling back onto your shoulders. You spin, arm raised lightly to meet his own.

“It is indeed. To be honest with you, my Lord, I would much rather be at home with a book than here. I hope that does not offend you.” You confess.

He laughs gently. Your dress twirls when he moves around you.

“It does not. A reader, how delightful. Do you delight in just fiction, or some non-fiction as well?” He questions.

It surprises you, the fact that he actually wants to know you. Not just speak about himself, not ignore your words completely in lieu of looking at your face.

“I partake in reading either. I have been reading more philosophy as of late, I quite enjoy the way it makes me question the world around us. Particularly in Descartes, reality is quite the mind bending concept.” You ramble, cutting yourself off before you talk too much.

Silence is a virtue, your mother’s voice rings loud in your head.

“Descartes, how fascinating. I myself have been rather enjoying Hobbes. The concept of humans craving to dominate their fellow man is something that resonates with me quite deeply. I agree with him on many fronts.”

Suguru Geto, you come to realize, cannot be a real man. He moves with grace, does not step on your feet when he dances like many others. He’s an intellectual, opting to partake in conversations more than just the gossip of the Ton or his own achievements. He’s humble, gentle, and kind.

Did the man in front of you crawl out of one of the many romance books you have in your library at home? It is the only explanation you can come up with for meeting a man so utterly perfect.

The dance ends much faster than you would like.

You could talk to Lord Geto forever if given the opportunity. He seems to be staring elsewhere. You match his gaze, only to be met by the intense stare of Satoru Gojo.

Duke Kamo is standing directly beside him as well with his own indecipherable look.

“Apologies, my lady. I’m afraid I must part.” He says.

You look up at him, trying to figure out a way to make him stay.

“Do the two of you know each other?” You ask in reference to the Prince staring daggers across the room.

Lord Geto looks over to the other man, a deep smile etching onto his face.

“Something like that.” He reaches down, placing a finger under your chin, “Don’t fret. We will meet again. I am quite sure of it.”

—

After your interaction with the Earl, it was safe to say you were wholly uninterested in dancing with any other men. You did, for the sake of your mother, but your mind was elsewhere. Even in your greetings to the Queen of England, your mind was in a trance. A spell cast on you that had yet to be lifted.

Keeping up appearances was exhausting. You did not know how you were going to do this for the rest of your life. The constant chatter, catching up with others, pretending to laugh at the meaningless conversations. It all felt so empty. Like everyone was in on a game of pretend that you were never invited to.

You slip away from the main ballroom, instead deciding to walk along the twisting paths surrounding the Gojo estate. You find yourself in the garden. A lush, well kept garden with flowers and greenery you’ve only seen in botany books.

Crouching down, you take one of the flowers in your palm, feeling along the soft blue petals. It was beautiful. More importantly, the surroundings were quiet. Silent enough that you could actually think.

You continue to explore, heels clacking off the cobblestone path. There were massive archways of greenery, vines sneaking down and tickling your head as you passed through them.

The moon was especially bright. Stars glimmering and illuminating the area around you. You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and just feeling. Feeling the breeze, smelling nature.

Yes, this is much where you prefer to be.

A soft fwip rings out nearby. You turn your head, but don’t see anything. Curiously, and perhaps foolishly, you go to follow the noise. When turning the corner, you see a pair of hands peeking around the bushes holding a book.

Could it be…?

Quickly, you run up to the person, hoping to see the man of your dreams once more. Of course, Lord Geto would be outside in the garden, away from the others-

You were excited. Until you turned and saw a very startled Duke Kamo sitting on a bench. You would have laughed at his expression had you not been so disappointed. After the initial shock wears off, he relaxes reluctantly.

“I am starting to think you’re following me.” He states suspiciously.

You sigh, shoulders slumping when you realize you may not see Lord Geto for a while longer than you had previously anticipated.

“Don’t be so vain. I just… I thought you were someone else is all.” You mutter.

Lord Kamo narrows his eyes, before deciding that there’s a good chance you’re telling the truth. He hums, going back to his book.

You see the book he’s reading, and recognize it very well.

“She dies in the end.” You tell him.

“I know. This is my second reading.”

You groan, sitting down roughly beside him on the bench.

“That’s a shame, indeed. I wanted to ruin it for you.” You say with a cheeky smile.

He stares at you, appearing unsure of how to respond.

“You’re a nuisance.” He decides on.

You gawk at him, offended.

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

Resisting the urge to childishly repeat your previous statement, you sulk beside him. You stare at the floor, kicking a rock. Crickets chirp as he continues to read his book.

“So why are you out here, then?” You ask.

“I do not enjoy being surrounded by people I don’t like.” He replies simply.

You hum in understanding.

“I was under the impression that you had friends in there.” You tell him.

The Duke chuckles without humour.

“I do not have friends. They are simply men I partake in business with.” He says, flipping a page of his book.

You relate to that. Not the business part, of course, because God forbid a lady partake in actual meaningful activities, but your childhood friends have long been married off to older men. You never really see them anymore, and your neighbours all keep to themselves.

“How is Yuuji tonight? I have barely seen him.” You ask.

“He is doing well for his first official public appearance. Although I believe he made some friends here, he has been running around with them for the most part. I do not mind. It is a night off for everyone, the boy deserves this break.” The Duke replies.

You notice that he’s actually smiling. You do not think you’ve ever seen him smile in the time you’ve spoken to him, and it is all because of Yuuji. You chuckle. It truly is harder to not smile around him than to feel an innate sense of joy.

“Although I worry about how they will affect his studies, I am glad he is making friends. I was never awarded such luxuries.”

He’s rather chatty when discussing his brothers. You refuse to admit to yourself that you might actually enjoy this conversation.

“Me neither. I think perhaps Yuuji is my friend, though. Maybe more like a little brother.”

“Friend is more likely, although still doubtful. He has enough siblings.”

You resist the urge to kick him on the shins, and instead take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“You know, Lord Kamo, you are a rather jealous man.” You say honestly.

His eyebrow twitches, immediately going to close his book.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yuuji is allowed to have other adults in his life. He does not need you to dote on him.”

You know you are treading into dangerous waters. Lord Kamo, you have come to discover, is disgustingly protective of his brothers. Questioning him is bound to get you in a bad situation. But what is the fun in playing simple games?

It’s fun to live life on the edge.

“What makes you, an outsider, think you know better for him than me?” He grits out.

“I am not saying I know better. I am simply implying that-”

“No. Enough of this. I will not play this game with you any longer.” Lord Kamo says, voice progressively increasing in volume, “Your meddling in our lives is getting out of han-”

“Listen to me!” You yell at him, irritated.

He pauses, a look of genuine disbelief in his features. Your voice is loud, echoing through the otherwise empty garden. You use his surprise to further continue your point.

“Yuuji needs help. He’s struggling to adapt to the Ton. I know because he’s told me as such. In his time of need, he requires a wider range of support. All you’re doing is isolating him.” You plead, before continuing, “All I want is what is best for him. I am sure you can say the same.”

“...You don’t know what I want.” He replies.

He opens his book back up to the page he was on, and continues reading. Aggravated, you stand up, ready to leave. You turn around to say one last piece to him, until you hear a loud call of your name.

Your mother.

Panic shoots down your spine as you assess your situation. Alone, unmarried, and in a secluded place unchaperoned with a man. It does not look good in the slightest. The worst part is you can see her.

She hasn’t noticed you yet, and she begins to turn around when a strong arm pulls you away from her line of vision.

Lord Kamo had pulled you out of your mother’s sight. Your body is now pressed up against the Duke’s in his hurry to remove you from view. He’s warm, warmer than you thought he would be for a cold summer night. Your heart races.

Lord Kamo looks around the corner, waiting for your mother to leave. You can hear her still calling your name, but all you can focus on is the sound of your heart in your ears and the feeling of his chest rising and falling.

“Just wait.” He murmurs lowly.

The bare skin of your chest brushes against the expensive silks of his suit. You cannot bring yourself to move, to think. To even look up at the man who’s holding you right now.

Your mother’s voice grows distant, moving in the opposing direction from your current location. Lord Kamo releases you then, clearing his throat and moving to sit back down in his previous seat. You still cannot bring your limbs to move themselves, stuck in a standing position beside the tall bush.

“What… I… Thank you.” You whisper.

“Do not thank me. It would have looked negatively on me if I was seen here with you.” He says nonchalantly.

You roll your eyes, annoyed at his lack of care. Of course that’s what it was. You feel stupid for thinking he actually had intentions that were for your benefit.

“There is something else I have to talk to you about.” The Duke states, stare suddenly serious.

Without thinking, you gulp uncomfortably.

“What is it now?” You reply, trying to keep up your uncaring facade.

“That man you were with earlier. Stay away from him.”

Who…?

“...Lord Geto?” You ask, confused.

“Yes. Him.” He replies sternly.

You pause, choosing your words carefully.

“Is there a reason that you would like to share?” You ask, suddenly angry.

This was not a conversation you were expecting to have tonight, and especially not with the Duke of Devonshire for God’s sakes. What does he know, anyways?

“... I cannot share why, but-”

You groan, expecting this sort of response.

“Listen, my Lord. This was a man who had treated me with kindness, a man who actually cared to know me. Until I met him, every interaction you have had with men has been wildly unpleasant. So no, I will not stop talking to him, and since you have the audacity to try to tell me what to do, I am ending this conversation. Good night.”

You begin to walk away, head held high. A hand grabs your arm, not enough to hurt, but firm enough to keep you in place. You turn to find the Duke’s face deadly serious.

“He is dangerous. I am warning you. Stay away from him.” He says, voice almost pleading.

You rip your arm away, choosing instead to join the party back inside rather than listen to his words any longer.

You scoff to yourself.

As if the Duke would ever beg.

Chapter Text

A cast out pillar of the community showing his face once more in society was not the only surprising appearance of the night at the Gojo estate.

The recently titled Kamo brother, Yuuji Itadori, made his debut into the public eye last night along with the Duke of Devonshire. The young brother seems to be everything the Kamo’s are not, and perhaps it should be a welcome change to the Ton.

One must also wonder if the eldest Kamo will be showing his face more this season, as an eligible bachelor such as himself does not often engage in the social circles of the Ton. Is he finally ready to join the marriage mart and find a wife by the end of the season? Only time will tell.

Rest assured, gentle reader. If there is any gossip of betrothalment this season, this writer is bound to uncover it.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

—

As the first ball had finally come to a close, you have come to discover that the friendships Yuuji made at the party did not.

He comes over less often, but still continues to visit over the five days that follow. Yuuji, with much enthusiasm, describes his new friends Megumi Fushiguro and Nobara Kugisaki. You like them not just from what you’ve heard about them particularly, but by how happy they seem to make him.

Clearly they made enough of an influence for him to beg the Duke to invite his friends over for a dinner at their estate.

All his friends. You included.

You’re not sure how he managed to convince his brother to allow you anywhere near the premises, but you are rather impressed. Your first instinct was to immediately decline based on your last interaction with his oldest brother, and you did. Poor Yuuji, though, was so devastated that the guilt you felt overtook your dislike for his older brother.

Which leads you to now. In lieu of not really having anyone to impress, you dress in a simple pink gown with a lace overlay. You ought to save your best for the balls of the season, your mother would say sternly. That is, if she could contribute a word. You are more than content keeping your whereabouts for the day under tight wraps.

Your maid comes with you, and is sworn to utter secrecy.

“Mother! I am leaving now! I will be back from the modiste tonight!” You yell out.

Silence.

You take that as your cue to leave, heading next door to the Kamo estate. The manor itself is overbearing, casting a looming shadow over you as you approach the front entrance. Dark brick, twisting vines, and black flowers create an ominous aura that lights your nerves.

“My lady, are you sure this is a good idea?” Your maid asks nervously.

“Don’t worry. The Kamo’s are nothing to fear.” You reply, hoping to calm her down.

Even if you yourself do not truly believe it.

You knock hesitantly, and are greeted swiftly by a butler opening the door.

“My lady, please, come in. They have been expecting you.” He says, moving to the side to allow you entrance.

Taking the opportunity to look around, you are shocked at how utterly clean it is. It’s all dark wood and black marble, with not a speck of dust in sight. The crystal chandelier above you is bright, livening up the room. There are some purple accents, mostly flowers and paintings.

It’s rather… dreary.

Not very lived in. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought the place was unoccupied.

You hear him before you see him. Bounding footsteps coming from upstairs, and then the appearance of Yuuji at the top of the massive staircase.

“Big sister!” He exclaims, running down the steps two at a time.

He meets you at the bottom, picking you up and giving you a rather large hug. You grin, compressed by arms much too strong for a boy his age.

“Yuuji! Put me down!” You laugh.

“Sorry! I’m just so excited you’re here!” He shouts, and you flinch at the sheer volume.

When he finally releases you, you give him a firm pat on the back.

“So this is your home, then? It’s beautiful.” You smile widely.

He shrugs.

“It’s alright. I wish we opened the windows every once and a while. Hey, let me show you around!”

Despite your enhanced expectations, the tour that follows is rather uneventful. Every corner of the house looks the exact same as the front entrance. Rich purple curtains drawn, perfectly pristine, and feeling rather empty despite occupying multiple people.

It fills you with an innate sadness, and you are unsure where it stems from.

“Thank you for coming, by the way. I know you and Choso don’t really get along, but when Choso suggested we invite Meg and Nobara, I really wanted you to be here too.” He suddenly says, voice shy.

“Of course, Yuuji! You know I cannot resist when you ask something of me.” You tease, “I am quite surprised however that the Duke was the one who suggested the lunch. I was under the impression it was you.”

“I was as well. It makes me happy that he’s finally relaxing a little. Not that I want him to change, but it’s just…” He trails off.

“You’re grateful for his lenience.” You finish for him, smiling gently.

“Yeah. Exactly.” He says wistfully.

You hum. Your family did not exactly have friends. There were people that your parents and yourself conversed with, but your father was too uninterested, your mother too crass. Nobody stayed around for very long.

The people who did left as well.

It gets lonely, being without others in life. You’re hoping that, perhaps, the Duke realized that Yuuji need not follow in his footsteps of being a recluse. He’s much too bright a star for that. You never thought that you would get caught up in his light, too.

You wonder, briefly, if the Duke ever feels the same as you. Isolated. Alone.

“My lord,” The butler calls, “Mr. Fushiguro and Ms. Kugisaki have arrived.”

—

Choso is stressed.

It has been a very, very long time since the Kamo estate has hosted anyone. So long, in fact, that he does not remember when his father last had visitors when he was alive. He had always left, going to do his business elsewhere. Those were Choso’s favourite few hours.

For the entire morning, he’s been running around ordering the staff to make everything pristine. It doesn’t matter that the estate always looks good. He wants it to be perfection.

The better it looks? The less that wretched girl has to hang over his head.

He wishes Yuuji would just forget about you and move on already. He has a short attention span, after all. Why is he so focused on you being in their lives?

Choso walks along the halls, stopping briefly to check the time on his clock.

Five to eleven.

Gods, they should be here any second, if they are not here already.

Eso and Kechizu are already in the dining room, and Choso made sure that they were both well dressed for the occasion. Kechizu needed some convincing, but he managed to make it work.

He hears laughing at the end of the hall in the dining room.

They’re here.

Choso walks over, counting his steps. He prepares himself for the inevitable discomfort he’s about to face.

It’s fine.

It’s fine.

Anything for Yuuji.

—

The Duke comes nearly crashing through the doors.

Everyone in the room goes quiet. All heads turn to look at Lord Kamo, his normally well put together appearance looking rather disheveled. He clears his throat, straightening out his suit, and giving an uncomfortable smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Good afternoon.” He simply says.

A chorus of parroted statements come back to him. He walks over, sitting down at the end of the table. A butler comes to pour him tea.

The room is still quiet.

You can see all you need to know from the Duke’s posture in his chair. He’s extremely out of his comfort zone. Taking pity on him, you speak up.

“Say, Mr. Fushiguro, tell us more about your adventures with the Prince.” You offer.

While shy, the boy is unashamed to speak about Prince Gojo, a fact which greatly warms your heart. You didn’t know that the Prince took in an almost son when the young boy had no one else. He continues to speak about his sister, with Miss Kugisaki on his right and Yuuji on his left. Eso and Kechizu, the other brothers, sit across from them.

You’re sat directly across from the Duke.

While Yuuji, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki talk over each other in excitement, you watch the Duke. His eyes watch ever so fondly upon his brothers. He doesn’t participate in the conversation or add his thoughts, just watches them speak animatedly.

It gives you a very real idea of what he’s actually like beside his awful personality. Falling into the background, not participating, just allowing his brothers to shine. His other brothers, upon talking with Eso, are actually quite friendly. Kechizu is very shy due to his physical disability, but as Eso lets you know, is rather blooming once he gets to know people.

It’s just him that’s different from the rest of them.

You make eye contact with the Duke from across the table. It wasn’t intentional. Just a gentle pass of your eyes at the same time as his.

You hold it. You give him a small hesitant smile.

He looks away, still holding up his head with his hand.

“I disagree! The best cake comes from the bakery beside the modiste.” Kugisaki says.

Yuuji guffaws.

“No way! It’s the bakery on Main street. Choso took me there just the other day? Right, Choso?” Yuuji says, turning to his brother.

Choso coughs lightly on his tea.

“... Indeed.” He says.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Ms. Kugisaki. I’ve been to that bakery more times than I can count and I happen to say that they have the best lemon cake.” You say proudly.

“Lemon cake! You have excellent taste, my lady. I fancy a good lemon treat.” Eso muses out loud.

You let out a soft chuckle.

“I fancy all the treats, I’m afraid. It’s something my mother has quite a gripe with.” You confess.

“Don’t listen to her.” Kechizu finally pipes up, taking a large bite of a sandwich on his plate.

Eso hums in agreement.

“We must go sometime, my lady. All of us, actually. A promenade on the town with a stop at the bakeries in question. Then we can finally put this silly debate to rest.” Kugisaki says loudly.

“It’s not silly! It’s serious!” Yuuji exclaims, mouth full of food.

The pair continue to bicker, and you shake your head at the theatrics.

The Duke stands up out of his chair, silently slipping out unnoticed. You watch him go, wishing it was you instead when food starts to be thrown across the table. Megumi stares in disgust while everyone else at the table begins to fight loudly.

You decide to take your leave as well.

—

Choso, of course, on a walk to clear his head runs into you. You’re looking up at his least favourite piece of decor in his family’s estate.

“My lord.” You say with a gentle bow when you notice him.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, irritated.

You have the audacity to look confused, as if you’re not taunting him with your very presence in this hall.

“I apologize, I was on a walk and I stumbled across this room.” You say, looking up to the painting. “Is this a family portrait?”

You say it so innocently. Devoid of any context of how much Choso hates these paintings, how getting them done was worse than torture. Being forced to stand still, devoid of any emotion for hours on end. If you even moved in the slightest, his father made sure that they didn’t move again.

“...Yes.” He decides on.

You hum. The both of you stare up at the painting, large and foreboding on the wall. The colours are muted. Dull, just as his father had requested. It’s a little too accurate. It captures the dead look in his mother’s eye with astute detail.

“You look…” You begin, trailing off as if unsure if you should speak your mind.

“What?” He asks, annoyed.

“...Sad. In this painting.” You confess, turning to look up at him, “I feel sorry for the boy in that picture.”

He resists the urge to laugh bitterly. Sad. What a joke. There’s nothing Choso hates more than pity, especially when it comes from you. Of course he was miserable. Taking a deep breath, he reminds himself that you do not know anything. You’re simply making observations on what you can see, and he was never particularly good at hiding his dismay.

“I was.” He says, walking away.

He can hear your footsteps quickly catching up behind him, and you stand beside him as he walks.

“You know, my lord, I was speaking with Yuuji earlier, and I believe what this home needs-”

“I didn’t ask.”

“-is a lady’s touch!” You exclaim cheekily.

He deadpans, momentarily caught off guard by your sudden change in mood.

“...A lady’s touch? I beg your pardon?” He parrots.

“Indeed. It is depressing walking through your great estate. I think you’d rather benefit from a betrothal this season.” You chirp, hands clasped in front of you. “Not that you would have much luck.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. If I wanted a wife I would have one.”

“Is that so?” You smirk.

He scoffs.

“Yes, that is so. If I do ever marry, it would be for status, not for love. I do not intend to search far and wide for a love match.” He says, staring straight ahead. “And certainly not to add a touch to my already fine home. The purple is pleasant.”

You roll your eyes, a smile still on your face.

“Sure, sure. All I’m saying is that if I had a say in the matter, some reds or blues would do quite nicely.”

“Well, thank God you do not.” He smirks, and your eyebrow twitches. “And what about your own home? After this season surely you’ll be married off. You seem the type to desire a love match.”

“Aw, my lord, I’m flattered you think I’m a fine catch. But no, I have long lost faith in a love match.”

“Now that does surprise me.” He confesses. “And I do not think you are a-”

“I simply crave a man who is kind. Intelligent as well, but not as important as kind.”

Choso stares for a moment.

“... That’s depressing.”

You gawk at him.

“What?! It is not!”

“It is. Kindness? That is all? I would have expected you to have the highest standards of any the women I have met.” He jabs with a sly grin.

“I am realistic, my lord. You should understand. I do not have as much choice as you do.”

“A compliment? I’m flattered. I didn’t think you found me so agreeable.”

You let out a genuine, loud laugh this time. One that Choso finds himself lingering on a little too long.

“As if that would ever be the case. It is because of the fact that you are a man. One day, my parents will decide to marry me to whomever they like. That is simply how it is.”

Choso hums.

He didn’t quite expect you to be so… resigned. You are artistic, imaginative if he had to guess based on the amount of fiction you read. An uncomfortable, inexplicable lump forms in Choso’s throat at the idea that you would be married off to someone who is not even kind.

“And what of the books you’ve been reading?” He asks.

You pause in your walk. You stare at him, expression unreadable.

“My… books, my lord?”

“Yes.” He says, confused.

You open your mouth as if you were to speak, and instead let out a soft chuckle.

“Nothing, I was just… surprised. I have been reading a rather interesting romance novel as of late. An author enraptured with his muse. Imagine that?”

It was Choso’s turn to pause. So you were a romantic after all? He turns to look at you, and you look up at him in return, confusion etched on your soft features.

“You’re an enigma, you know that?” He murmurs. “I can’t understand you.”

You laugh softly, voice echoing throughout the empty hall.

“Perhaps we need not understand each other, my lord. I know enough about you. You know enough about me. Is that not, well… enough?”

Choso realizes, in that moment, that he doesn’t really know anything about you. He knows your occasional hobbies, he knows that you’re awfully combative and never like to back down from a fight. He knows that you expect the bare minimum, despite having much more to offer.

He doesn’t know your favourite colour. Does not know your favourite dresses to wear, or your favourite book you’ve ever read. He is lacking any information on your foods you most enjoy, or what keeps you up at night. You’ve never told him anything about your childhood.

He knows nothing about the woman that’s captured his brother’s interest.

And it bothers him just a little.

“What is your favourite colour?” He says, almost surprised at himself.

You pause, giving him an odd look. Reluctantly, you tell him, and he almost laughs at the fact that the colour is so undoubtedly you.

“I assume your favourite colour is purple?” You state, taking a look at the space around you.

“No. Purple was… my mother’s favourite. I quite enjoy navy blue.”

“Ah, blue, the colour of sadness and melancholy. How fitting for someone as down as you.” You say.

He scoffs.

“Blue also represents calmness, security, and even loyalty-”

“I would not give you that much credit.” You pointedly say.

He laughs. A true one.

“You’re impossible.” He confesses with a smile.

Your musings bring you out to the gardens, a place you have never seen. Choso sees the way your eyes light up at the scenery.

“Do you like it?” He asks, almost nervous.

You smile, the sun bouncing off and illuminating your skin.

“Yes, indeed. Your gardens are beautiful. I can imagine that you find great peace out here in tranquil moments.”

“I must confess that I do not come out here very often.” He says. “My brothers partake more than I.”

“That’s a shame. It’s lovely out here. Although you’ve always seemed more an indoor person, so I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Always have been.” He muses.

Your attention, he notices, is immediately captured by something at the edge of the property.

“Oh, a peach tree? You did not tell me you had fruit gardens.” You point out.

“How would that be relevant in conversation in any way?”

You ignore him, choosing instead to walk over to the blooming tree. A peach, soft and round, covered in a beautiful shade of orange skin, calls out to you. You answer, gently plucking it off.

“Hey. Who told you that you were allowed to take from our trees?” Choso asks irately.

“Do not be such a downer, Lord Kamo.”

His eyebrow twitches, but he chooses to ignore you. The faster you get on with whatever you want to do, the sooner you leave his estate (and hopefully, his life). You rub a spot with the fabric of your dress, polishing it.

He watches with disinterest as you raise it to your plush lips, taking a small bite from it. You groan in delight, much to Choso’s dismay.

Taking another larger bite, juices from the peach come spilling down your arm, gloves, and into the grass. He opens his mouth to scold you for your unladylike display, and is immediately stopped in his tracks when your tongue peeks out to lick a long stripe up the peach.

Your tongue catches all the juice that comes running down, raising a finger and pushing the juice on your chin into your mouth. All done with a happy and content moan from the back of your throat.

Choso watches you slurp as you take another bite of your fruit. His mouth parts slightly with the words he wanted to say caught in his throat. His cravat, once comfortable, is now ten sizes too small. He lifts a finger up to make some space around his neck, suddenly warm.

The weather isn’t overly warm. There’s a gentle breeze, matter of factly. So why does he feel so hot?

Your eyebrows pull together in delight, a soft smile on your face as you continue to lather the peach with your tongue. Choso wonders briefly if you’re doing this intentionally. He knows you aren’t, not with the way you happily eat while not even sparing him a glance.

He can’t watch anymore.

Clearing his throat, he turns away from you, walking back towards the estate. You call out for him from behind, and he ignores you. He’s lost in his own thoughts, disturbed by his clearly deranged way of thinking.

What was that?

He enters the estate through the back two doors, wildly uncomfortable and with his pants feeling a little tighter than when he left.

Choso can’t bring himself to face the group in his home after that… incident.

He watches you leave through a window by the front. You look back at the house briefly before you go. Shaking his head, he rubs the space in between his eyebrows. What a nightmare. What on earth is wrong with him?

He doesn’t even have time to recuperate before his business meeting with the Prince.

He calls for his carriage, his brothers staring questionably as he walks by and out the doors without speaking. The time it takes him to get to the Gojo estate flies by, the Ton is often smaller than it looks. To be back at the Gojo estate so soon is not something Choso would choose willingly, but he knows that there is no better man for the job he is working towards than the Prince.

“The illustrious, enigmatic Duke makes another grand appearance!” Gojo yells, bounding down his steps slowly.

“My Prince.” Choso says with a small bow.

Gojo laughs.

“Do not be so formal, Kamo. Please, come in!” He says cheerfully, wrapping an arm around Choso’s shoulder.

Choso cringes, but keeps the words he really wants to say at bay.

“Many thanks for your hospitality.” He simply says as they walk to Gojo’s office.

“Seriously, do not mention it.” He says, plopping down in his chair.

The prince kicks his feet up on the table, lighting the tobacco at the end of his pipe. After a hefty puff, he sighs, turning to Choso.

“So, you’re obviously here for something. You never hang out just for fun. What can I do for you?” Gojo says with a large grin.

While Choso goes on to explain his plan on opening a new school for the less fortunate, Gojo is completely and utterly distracted by anything he can set his eyes on. His feather pen, the frames on his desk, the papers in his drawer.

He’s not listening. At all.

“Boring!” The prince yells out suddenly. “Don’t you have anything else to talk about, Kamo? No juicy gossip in your life at all?”

Choso schools his facial expression, choosing to keep the peace.

“I’m afraid not, my prince-”

“-Call me Gojo-”

“-But rest assured that this is a rather important affair. This could change lives, my lord. After the addition of Yuuji into our family, it brought an even greater image of what education is really like for poorer communities in the Ton.”

“Yuuji, right? How is that little runt doing? Nanami told me about your struggles with him.” Gojo drawls.

Choso sighs, choosing to humor Gojo just this once. He’s lucky Choso likes to talk about his brothers.

“He’s doing well. He’s been speaking more, focusing more now that he has friends in his life. I believe it is doing well for him to get his energy out that way instead of whatever he was doing before.” Choso states, pouring a spoonful of sugar into his tea.

Gojo hums.

“He sounds rambunctious. Megumi told me a little as well. Not that the kid speaks much, I was only able to pry out a little.” Gojo says with a smirk. “I’m glad you’re letting him find his own path.”

“He is indeed rambunctious, but I’m still not sure if this is the right move for him. Only time will tell, I suppose.”

“And the girl?” Gojo asks.

Choso knows he’s talking about you. He doesn’t have to specify what girl has been occupying Choso’s mind in all the wrong ways. Choso replies, despite the fact that he’s been intentionally trying to remove you from his head.

“She was over for tea and confectures today. It went… surprisingly well. I was not expecting that outcome, but she gets along well with my brothers. She was able to bring Kechizu out of his shell.” He says.

And surprised he was. He saw a different outlook today. He saw his brothers joyful, elated even to be in your presence and talking to each other. He was so very pleased with that, and despite the fact that he hates to appreciate when you are right, you were. Perhaps friendship is what Yuuji needed.

“That’s great, but I was talking about the other issue.” Gojo states, suddenly very serious.

“Ah. That problem.” Choso replies simply.

The major issue at hand being Suguru Geto.

Choso was indifferent. Well, that’s a lie. He hates seeing you happy, but that is a personal gripe he has to get over.

He watches you dance on the floor with a face he doesn’t quite recognize. You seem… elated. Intrigued. Actually speaking with him rather than the previous faces where you looked quite solemn. Not that he was watching you throughout the night, he just enjoyed seeing your misfortune.

“Hey, Kamo! What are you over there looking so sour about?” Gojo questions loudly.

He sighs, turning to the prince.

“Nothing, my lord. Just observing the dance floor.” Choso replies, irritated.

“Oh, is that so-”

Gojo stops. His face contorts from his usual teasing expression to one of utter disgust. Choso has never seen an expression so foul on the prince’s normally goofy exterior. It sends him reeling.

“My prince?” Choso questions.

“I cannot fucking believe it. The fact that he would show his fucking face here of all places!” Gojo fumes.

Choso follows his line of sight to the man you’re currently dancing with.

“... him?” He asks, confused. “Who is he?”

Gojo, suddenly much more sober, stands ramrod straight.

“You don’t know? That, Kamo, is Suguru Geto, who was outcast from society and for good reason.”

“You knew him well, I assume?”

Gojo lets out a bitter laugh.

“Too well. He used to be my best friend before he went bloody insane and killed his family.”

Choso doesn’t get phased by many things. He considers himself to be a man of rationality, of grace. But this sends him back a great few paces.

“What? And he got away with that?” Choso asks, bewildered.

“There is no proof he caused the fire that took their lives. But I know he did. I know he murdered them. He started to believe in these fucked up philosophies he read of higher humans and lesser ones. One can assume he saw his own family as the lesser.”

Choso stares at you now. You laugh at something Suguru Geto says to you, and Choso feels his stomach twist.

“So what is he doing here?” Choso asks.

“I do not know. I do not know how he even got in here in the first place, my guards are always supposed to be on high alert.” Gojo replies, obviously very unhappy with his men.

The dance ends, and Suguru Geto looks in their direction. You do as well. He watches Geto place a finger under your chin. He watches the way your eyes melt as you look at him.

Fuck.

“I tried to convince her to not talk to him, but she is adamant.” He says solemnly. “We have not spoken of it since.”

“I fear that this is not the last time we will see him. He has made many enemies in the Ton, but many friends as well with his ideologies. He will appear again. He’s stubborn in that way.” Gojo muses, looking out the large window behind him.

Choso hopes that for your sake, Gojo’s instinct is wrong this one time. It usually never is.

—

The second ball of the season is at the Zen’in estate, another extremely powerful family of the Ton.

Your mother had begged you to wear your finest today, so you conceded. A sapphire blue dress with dark crystals sewn in and a rather uncomfortable hairpiece. The estate itself was traditionally styled. Tudor style architecture and neutral colours run all throughout the property, a prime display of how long the family has been in power for.

Your father decided to stay at home, so it was just you and your mother acting as your chaperone. You see many familiar faces, bowing and giving a polite ‘hello’ as you pass. You try to be graceful, elegant just as your mother had requested you be.

In reality, you would much rather run away from here.

The ballroom is not quite as lavish as the Gojo estate’s, but it is quite large, with delicate artwork all the way up the walls to the ceiling.

Butlers are hustling refreshments out from the kitchen for guests, and they quickly pass by you as you walk in.

“The Queen is present! Let us go say hello!” Your mother whispers.

You groan, and she pinches your arm.

Your breathing picks up as you walk towards the Queen, beginning to panic. You see her almost immediately. Both you and your mother immediately bow.

“Ladies. It’s a pleasure to see you in attendance tonight.” She says with a smile.

“You as well, your Majesty. You look like a vision tonight.” You tell her.

“So kind, my dear.”

She lifts up your chin from your current position, taking a good look at you.

“Beautiful, indeed. Graceful, as well. Are you excited for the night’s events?” She asks.

You pause, before deciding to give her your real answer.

“To be honest, your Majesty, I’m afraid my library was calling out to me tonight. I anticipate seeing to it when I return to our estate.”

She lets out a great laugh. You can see your mother’s horrified expression in your peripheral.

“A library? How fascinating indeed.” She giggles.

You smile, giving another soft bow.

“I do look forward to seeing your relations this evening, my dear.” She says.

“Thank you, your Majesty.”

The two of you take your leave, and as soon as you are out of eyeshot, your mother roughly grabs you by the arm.

“What on earth was that? What is wrong with you! I ask you to keep it together for one night-”

“-I am simply being myself, mother. I will not lie to anyone. Not to myself, not to you, not even to the Queen of England.” You state firmly.

She stares at you for a moment, and then sighs, defeated.

“Fine. Do whatever you please.” She says tersely.

The beginning of your night is filled with a few dances that your mother arranges for you. All the men are the same. Stupid, crass, and rather rude. One had insulted you for actually enjoying the arts. It makes you wonder, iIs this what she really wants for you? It’s depressing.

You stand off to the side, trying to find the one man who has been on your mind.

Suguru Geto.

Your interaction was so brief, so fleeting, that it left you wanting more. Craving more. You needed to hear more of what he had to say, wanted him to listen to you the same.

He promised you that he would see you again, right? He has to be here somewhere.

The loud echo of horns plays throughout the ballroom. All the guests turn.

“Her Majesty the Queen requests your audience!” One of the royal guards yells out.

The orchestra stops playing, and the crowd is immediately hushed. There are faint whispers all around you.

The Queen, at the other end of the room, stands up.

“I thank each and every one of you for your presence. I am much appreciative. But, as I assume you all have been waiting for, I have not yet announced my diamond of the season.” She says.

You ignore the speech, still continuing to look around where you stand for Geto in the crowd. You curse when you can’t find him, hoping that he makes an appearance soon.

“My diamond of the season is…” She pauses for dramatic effect.

You could hear a pin drop in the room.

Your heart drops when she doesn’t name either of the Miss Zen’ins, Miss Miwa, or even Miss Nishimiya, but your name.

Everyone in the room turns to you, and you can feel heat in your face. The crowd begins to clap, and you face some smiles, some scorns, and many intrigued faces. You smile as best you can as the Queen’s men walk towards you and lead you to the queen.

She gives you a small smile, and whispers reassurances in your ear. You catch your mother’s prideful expression out of the corner of your eye, and it makes you want to shrivel up into your skin.

The queen regards you to the crowd once more, and you cannot even focus on the words leaving her lips with the blood rushing in your ears. You turn around and are rather disappointed to find a great many suitors lined up now to dance with you.

This was going to be a very rough night.

Chapter Text

Overwhelmed doesn’t even begin to cover it.

You’ve been on the dancefloor nonstop since being announced as the diamond. Countless conversations ending in absolutely nothing, no man being able to capture your attention for long enough to actually mean something.

As your most recent dance ends, you bow, walking away before the suitor can say anything else. You roll your eyes, exasperated. You’re already exhausted, your social limit being hit long ago.

“Excuse me. May I have your next dance?”

You stop in your tracks, resisting the urge to groan. Of course. You take a deep breath, before turning around to greet the man behind you with a fake smile plastered all across your cheeks.

“Of course, my l-” You pause.

You pause when you realize it is not some random suitor. It’s Geto. Finally, after waiting the whole night, he’s here.

“Lord Geto!” You gasp.

He chuckles, taking your hand.

“Surprised?” He asks, amused.

“Very. I was beginning to think I would not see you here tonight.” You confess.

“I promised you would see me again, no? I am not a man who goes back on his promises.”

Your cheeks feel hot as he leads you to the dancefloor, the next song already starting. He twirls you around him, his strong arms holding you close.

“I am afraid to admit you have been on my mind since our last meeting.” He says.

A small, giddy smile reaches your face.

“And I you, Lord Geto.”

“A diamond as beautiful as yourself saying that to me? I must have prayed to the right god.”

“You’re too kind, my lord.”

You move around him carefully, maintaining eye contact with his intense grey stare.

“So, my sparkling diamond, have you read anything interesting as of late?” He asks.

You giggle softly.

“Of course. Mary Wollstonecraft has been a recent interest of mine, although I try not to make it very well known.” You tell him.

“Ah, a feminist writer, right? I do not believe I know much of her work.” He confesses.

“Well allow me to enlighten you, Lord Geto.” You grin. “Society has so much to gain from allowing women into roles other than breeding stock for men. Than reducing us to simple gossip mongers. Women deserve economic independence, just like the men of the Ton.”

He hums.

“It’s quite a concept. I do wish to see it in my lifetime. I’ve met enough intelligent, powerful women in my lifetime to know that our current system is not quite right.”

You smile, and nod softly.

“It’s not just powerful women. All women deserve independence.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

“And you, my lord? Have you been reading anything of interest?” You ask.

He picks you up gently, twirling you around softly.

“Unfortunately, I have been occupied with other matters. But I do intend to read more of Machiavelli’s work when I return back to my estate at the end of the season.”

“...Machiavelli?” You question.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Yes. Is something wrong with that?”

“No, it’s just…” You pause, letting him step around you. “... I would hope that your interest in Machiavelli is only academic and not moral.”

“Do you believe otherwise?” He asks.

You try to read his expression. It’s blank, almost teasing if teetering towards anything. You decide to interpret his words as a joke, moving on gently.

“Of course not, my lord. Forgive me.” You smile.

“There is nothing to be forgiven. I enjoy spending time with someone who asks questions. What is there to life if not the desire to learn more?” He says.

“I rather like that way of thinking.” You tell him, smiling.

He stares at your face for a moment, as if taking in every soft line and feature. His hands are soft and gentle on your own. His hair is in a bun this time, soft pieces framing his angular face.

“I should like to take you for a promenade among the Ton.” He says suddenly. “Not unchaperoned, of course. I wouldn’t want to disgrace you, my lady.”

“Of course, my lord. I would enjoy that greatly. You would have to speak with my mother, but I do not believe she’ll have any issues at all.” You say softly.

“Oh?” He says, teasingly, “And why is that?”

Embarrassed, you look away. He takes your chin, not roughly, but enough to force you to look back at him.

“Do not be shy, darling.” Geto murmurs.

“Because you are an attractive man with a good title. Do you disagree?”

“So you think I am attractive?” He grins.

“...You’re impossible.” You bashfully say.

He chuckles, finally releasing you and giving you grace.

“I apologize, I just enjoy teasing you. You are rather adorable when you are embarrassed.”

The song ends, and the both of you bow at each other.

“I do hope you’ll allow me one more dance before the night ends, my lady.” Geto smiles.

You turn away, speaking to him over your shoulder.

“I do not know, I am quite busy. We’ll see.” You smile cheekily.

He laughs, and you leave, going to find your mother with a giddy smile on your face. You have not seen her since being announced as the diamond, but you can only assume she is around with the other mothers showing off.

You need to tell her the good news.

A head of black hair catches your interest instead.

The Duke looks frazzled, frustrated. His eyebrows are scrunched, his body on a warpath to exit the building. You chase after him, concerned.

What is going on with him?

“My lord! Duke Kamo!” You call out, pushing through the crowd.

He turns to see you, his expression souring even more.

“What do you want?” He asks, seething.

You take a step back, surprised by his anger.

“I just wanted to check on you, I saw you across the room and noticed you were distressed. I… I apologize if this is about the fruit, my lord. I would not have thought to have taken it had I known-”

“Yes, well, you do not really think in general, do you?” He spits.

You pause, anger flaring up from your feet all the way up to your chest.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask, words careful but sharp.

“All I am simply implying is that you do not think about how your actions affect others. You are selfish.”

“Selfish?” You repeat, appalled.

“Yes, selfish. You come into our lives, trying to replace me as Yuuji’s brother. That whole ordeal with giving him the book I refused him? Just one example of many. Your relationship with him is so one sided it’s almost depressing.”

People around you start to look. You don’t care about their eyes. You only care about his. The two of you have bickered. You’ve fought. But he has never ever acted like this. Against your best efforts, tears start to well up in your eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” You whisper. “I only wanted to…”

“Wanted to do what?” He asks. “Go on.”

“I only wanted what was best for him.” You state, voice weak.

He scoffs, half laugh, half outrage.

“What is best for him is for you to leave him alone. He was doing just fine before you, and he’ll do better without you. All of us will.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. You want to be important to someone else so bad that you’re desperately clinging onto him like a pathetic leech. Let. Go.”

Those final words make your bottom lip tremble traitorously. You stand a little taller.

“I apologize for intruding on your life, my lord. It will not happen anymore.” You say, tone barely a whisper.

“Good. Now go run off to your knight in shining armor. Geto might be the only one who does not despise your presence.” He seethes.

You take a step back. You stare at his face for just a moment. Just enough to see any break in whatever this is that he’s going through. He doesn’t. You take that as your answer, and leave to go somewhere, anywhere but there.

You accidentally push past someone, and they spill their drink on you. You apologize profusely, despite being the only one with drink on their attire, and are instead met with a nasty look.

You leave, heart heavy with a flurry of different emotions.

—

This night was a whole different level of fucked up.

This has to be Choso’s personal hell. He is definitely repaying some karma from a past life by being here. He should have known that coming to the Zen’in estate would be a mistake.

It started off well. He stuck by Yuuji’s side mostly, listening to his idle chatter with the Fushiguro boy. Refreshments were flowing, no one was bothering them, things were going well.

Until people started to approach him.

Somehow, someway, every single person present decided that tonight was the perfect opportunity to let Choso know how much they loved his father.

“Your father was such a good man, a great business partner. He had such a good head on his shoulders. You should be proud of who he was.”

Choso just had to grit his teeth and bare it. It was fine, the night would end, and everything would go back to normal. They didn’t know anything.

“He was so kind and generous. I wish I had a father like that.”

It was fine.

“He did a great many things for his community. I personally saw him as a hero of sorts.”

It was fine.

“Your mother was so lucky to have him, he was a really gentle man.”

It was fine.

“I wish I had worked with him more before he died. He was so progressive.”

It was fine.

“You’re really turning out just like him.”

…Just like him?

Choso feels the nausea rising. It trickles up his throat like lava, suffocates him. The room is too hot. There’s too many people here. He has to leave. Now.

He pushes through crowds of people, leaving the conversation he was having abruptly and without explanation. He just has to get some fresh air, that’s all. Then he will be fine.

“-uke Kamo!”

He turns around, already angry to be interrupted again.

It turns out to be you.

Words leave him before he can stop them. Cruel, sick words that should never have left his lips.

“I do. You want to be important to someone else so bad that you’re desperately clinging onto him like a pathetic leech. Let. Go.”

He regretted everything as soon as he said them. He doesn’t think that about you. Doesn’t truly believe you’re trying to replace him.

He hates the way you make him feel. He’s not supposed to be feeling. He’s a pillar for his brothers, and that is all. Someone they can always rely on. He doesn’t want to feel whatever confusing emotions he has towards you.

He loathes it.

Despises himself even more when he sees the way tears well up in your eyes after every pointed jab at you. What is wrong with him?

“I apologize for intruding on your life, my lord. It will not happen anymore.”

Don’t go. I hate how weak your voice sounds.

“Good. Now go run off to your knight in shining armor. Geto might be the only one who does not despise your presence.”

Don’t leave. If you have to go, please god, go anywhere but to him.

And despite all of this, his face does not change. He does not let it. He is not built for vulnerability, to say what he feels and when.

It is all one big facade that he hates himself for portraying.

You leave. Someone spills their drink on you, and he has to resist the urge to grab them by the collar and make them apologize to you. But you brush it off, being as far away from him as possible the most important thing to you at the moment.

Don’t go.

—

You step into the gardens, gasping at the fresh air, trying to quell the ache coming up in your throat. Your hand is on your chest, and you try to focus on the sound of your own heartbeat to calm yourself. It is too fast to help.

You quickly whip out your fan instead, flicking it open and fanning yourself to catch some breeze in the summer heat. It’s quiet outside. Better.

You take slow steps, one foot in front of the other. It almost feels like you are in a daze of sorts, conscious enough to know you should be going somewhere and distant enough to not know where.

His words echo in your head like an empty chamber, just bouncing around constantly, taunting you. You did not think you were selfish. You just found someone who felt like he needed to be taken under your wing. He seemed like a lonely soul, just like you.

…Were you selfish?

Perhaps you were. Maybe Yuuji would have been better off if you had left him alone that day. Kicked his ball back over the shrubbery, chased him away. You would have never known him, and the two of you would have gone about your respective lives as it should have been.

At least then you would have never met Choso Kamo.

You start to tear up again.

What’s worse is the fact that you do not want to go back to not knowing them.

“My lady?” A familiar voice behind you calls.

“Lord Geto?” You say, wiping your eyes.

“Is everything alright? I saw you run out of the ballroom rather quickly.” He asks, concerned.

You smile at him softly, doing your best to mask the internal turmoil you have been facing.

“Yes, I assure you I am quite alright. I just wanted to get some air. It can be rather suffocating in there.” An understatement.

He hums.

“True indeed. Do you mind if I join you on your walk?”

“Of course not.” You tell him, taking his arm on your own.

The two of you begin to stroll, the night breeze quite crisp now that the sun has fallen. The trees around the estate sway with the wind, and you watch them move.

“It is odd being back here after being away for so long.” He suddenly says.

Confused, you turn to look at him.

“Have you not been in England?” You ask.

“No, I have not. I have spent the past few months travelling across Africa, if you can believe it. I made an excellent friend down there who showed me a great deal of the culture. I asked him to come to England so I can return the favour, but Miguel intends to stay in Kenya for the foreseeable future.” He tells you.

“Africa! How exciting. It must have been far travels, no?”

“It was. But I did rather enjoy myself. I definitely intend to return in the future. Perhaps then you should return with me.” He says with a smile.

Your cheeks heat up at the implications.

“Perhaps so. I did not realize you were already making future plans for us, Lord Geto.” You tease.

“I have been making plans since the first time I saw you, my darling diamond.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to hide your smile. He still sees it anyway.

Briefly, you think of the Duke’s last words to you in the ballroom.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’re really out here?” He asks suddenly.

You stare at him, shocked.

“Whatever do you mean?” You ask.

“I mean that something, or someone, upset you in there. Who was it?”

You sigh, shoulders drooping.

“It is nothing, my lord, I promise. I simply had a small disagreement with the Duke. We get into it quite frequently.” You say, ignoring the fact that this might have been the last.

“The Kamo?”

“Yes.”

He purses his lips, looking away.

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing. I just did not realize you were so close to…them.”

You pause in your steps.

“... What does that mean, Lord Geto?” You ask.

He hums. Turns to look at you with a grim expression.

“The Kamo’s took in that new boy, yes? They should not have done that.” He confesses.

He begins to keep walking, but you stay put, removing your arm from his own.

“Why not? There is nothing wrong with him.”

“Don’t do this.”

Physically recoiling at his words, you take a step back towards the building.

“Do what, my lord? I thought you enjoyed questioning, no?”

Lord Geto sighs deeply.

“I just do not believe that he needs to be mixing in with us. Nobility, that is. Compared to us, he’s simply a mere… well, a monkey.”

You stare at him. Really stare at him.

“A… what?”

“I’m sorry my dear, but it’s the truth. There are simply people who are less superior, less educated. He happens to be one of them.”

“Don’t you think that he should have had the opportunity to be educated, but was restricted by class? Why is that his fault? And you have the audacity to call him not even human?”

Geto rolls his eyes, as if dealing with a petulant child.

“They just aren’t us. They will never be us, no matter how hard they try.”

It truly feels like you’re staring at Lord Geto for the very first time. The real him. Not the philosopher, not the academic, not even the charming mask he puts on. The cruel underlying personality he has finally let out.

“You’re revolting, you know that?” You spit out.

He looks surprised at your outburst, and you cut him off before he can say anything else.

“Do not even dare. I cannot believe I have given a man as disgusting as you any time of day. I am only glad you are showing your true colours now before this farce goes on any further. Do not ever speak about Yuuji like that again, do you understand me? We are done here.” You say.

You begin to walk away, heels tapping on the stone walkway, and he does not chase you.

This night cannot get any worse.

—

You wake up the next morning with a resounding headache and a general sense of unease.

You get out of bed to pull back the curtains, squinting at the sunlight peeking through your windows. You sigh, closing them back up and getting into bed. Normally in the morning you are ready to face the day, but just this once you allow yourself some grace.

Your maid seems to have other plans.

She comes in mere minutes later, pulling back the curtains again and waking you up fully.

“Good morning, my lady. Your mother requests your presence downstairs.” She says, going into your closet and preparing your outfit for the day.

You groan, rolling over so your face is in the mountain of pillows in your bed.

“I do not want to.” You grumble.

Your maid ignores your protests, ripping the sheets off of you.

“Come on, up now. This is no time to be moping.”

After getting dressed and putting on some rouge, you walk downstairs, wholly unprepared to face your parents and whatever they may demand of you.

“Mother, Father.” You greet when you enter the tea room.

They both keep their head in whatever papers they are reading.

“So kind of you to finally join us.” Your father murmurs.

“I will get straight to the point. Has there been anyone who you believe will give a proposal before the end of the season? We have yet to have anyone approach us for a blessing thus far.” Your mother says.

You roll your eyes.

“Mother, ‘tis only the second ball of the season. Of course proposals will not come rolling in yet, no one knows anything of me.” You chide.

“Do not lecture me. I am aware that it is only the second ball of the season. Now, as the diamond, you should be in high priority. We have some suitors coming over later for tea. You will join us.” She says, leaving no room for discussion.

You sigh, giving a small bow and beginning to walk away.

“Yes, Mother.” You throw over your shoulder.

You ponder what you will do for the day as you walk the halls of your estate. Reading is rather soured for you at the moment. Perhaps some painting will clear your mind. You stroll to your room to grab the paints, passing by the baby blue paneled walls.

“My lady!” Your maid calls out.

“Yes?” You reply, exasperated, and in desperate need of stress relief.

“You have visitors.”

Now that does surprise you.

Who would be here requesting specifically for you?

Curiously, you notion for her to lead you. She brings you to the front lobby, where you see Yuuji outside. Your heart drops.

“Big sister!” He gleefully chirps.

“Yuuji, you shouldn’t be here-”

“We are going out on the Ton, most likely to the park near central square. You should come with us!” He says excitedly. “Of course, with your maid in tow.”

The events of the previous night come rushing back to you, and you feel a heavy lump in your throat. It’s suffocating, choking you from the inside out.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” You say, voice barely higher than a whisper.

He looks confused, and it makes your chest hurt.

“Why not? I do not see any issues.” He states.

“I… I just do not feel-”

“You should come.”

You take a step back when you realize it wasn’t Yuuji who was speaking. The Duke walks up the steps behind his brother, standing on the front porch with him. You stare at him for a moment, trying to decipher whether or not he’s playing some sick prank on you.

“Duke Kamo.” You greet him with a small bow. “I am not feeling well, my lord. I am afraid I must remain in my residence for the time being.”

“If you are unwell, some air should do you greatly. Come.” He says.

You are under the assumption that Yuuji does not know anything of the prior night's events, which he seemingly does not. His brother, however, is standing tall beside him. He looks down at you, face not betraying anything.

His amber eyes, though, tell a different story. You can see the turmoil behind them, they’re almost pleading. His eyebrows ever so slightly pulled together, and you wouldn’t know except for the fact that you know his forehead doesn’t wrinkle there unless he’s upset.

He’s being genuine.

“I… I suppose I shall go with you.” You finally say.

Yuuji begins to whoop, and the Duke shushes him, looking around nervously. You laugh softly. It almost feels normal again.

Almost.

In order to let you go, you tell your mother you are promenading for potential suitors. She accepts this, and you leave, meeting up with the brothers in the park.

Megumi is there as well, and the boys play badminton in the open field. You sit on the sidelines on a bench with the Duke.

It’s quiet. Very quiet.

Neither of you have said a word to each other since that meeting on your porch. Occasionally, you look at him through the corner of your eye, only to find him looking at you already. Then the both of you turn away, and it repeats.

Absentmindedly, you pluck blades of grass, listening briefly to the loud bickering of Yuuji and Megumi in the background.

“They are rather competitive, are they not?” The Duke suddenly says.

You drop the blades of grass to the ground softly. You pause, wondering if you should reply, before ultimately looking straight ahead.

“Yes. They are.”

Yuuji has his arms thrown up over his head, waving them incessantly. Megumi has the bird, scowling at him and yelling for Yuuji to get in position already. You smile at them. They are so young.

“I did not mean any of it.”

Startled, you turn towards the Duke. His expression is soft, his voice even more gentle.

“I’m sorry, my lord?” You ask.

“About last night, I… I was overcome. With other emotions, at the time. I did not mean to say everything I said to you. I sincerely apologize.” He says.

“I am sorry as well. For overstepping your boundaries as a brother. You were right, I am nothing to him, and you are his famil-”

“That’s not true. No, I won’t accept that.” He suddenly states, voice raised an octave.

“My lor-”

“You are so, so important to him. As his older brother, I hate to admit that someone else is equally as important to him, but I am also grateful that he has so many who care for him in return. You are one of them. Thank you.” He confesses.

You are effectively rendered speechless, unsure of how to react to his sudden confession. Your mouth opens, but no words come out.

“Please, my lady, tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He says, voice almost a plea.

You stare at Yuuji then, watching him play with a wide smile across his face.

“Just allowing him in my life is more than enough, my lord.” You tell him honestly.

You turn to the Duke to find him already analyzing your face. As if he’s seeing you for the first time. It makes heat tickle the tips of your ears, and you turn away, embarrassed.

“Don’t think this means we get along. I still dislike you.”

“And I you.” He says with a smile.

The two of you continue to watch the boys play, occasionally reaching over to grab a confection out of the picnic basket.

“Did something happen at the ball?” You ask, taking a bite of pastry.

The Duke’s expression sours.

“Something of the sort. I had a plethora of people telling me about how fantastic my father was.” He says.

You frown, confused.

“Forgive me, but Isn’t that a good thing?” You ask cautiously.

He stays quiet for a moment, pondering his next response. Crickets chirp in the grass nearby.

“My father was a cruel man. He was violent, turning to physical abuse whenever things went slightly awry of his plan. He ruined my mother. She was basically a shell of a person when she died.” He says solemnly, “Sometimes I think he ruined me too.”

You’re able to read between the lines, to see what he does not explicitly point out.

“You bore most of it for them, didn’t you?” You ask quietly.

Yuuji, oblivious and happy, swings the racket and hits the birdie towards Megumi’s face unintentionally. He laughs, openly and loudly, as Megumi goes over to try and get back at him.

“I did. I just needed to protect them, any way I could.” He says softly.

You hum sadly, your fingers brushing against his on the picnic blanket.

“You’ve made a great many sacrifices for them, my lord. I’m so sorry that you had to suffer so.”

“Don’t be. I would do it over again. Anything for them.”

“I’m sure they are proud to call you their brother. It was not for nothing.” You tell him.

He goes silent at that. The wind blows, gently carrying the tree branches. A leaf falls down onto the blanket, and you pluck it off, inspecting it.

“I’m sure it was not easy being an only child as well.” He tells you.

“Well, certainly not as difficult as your childhood was. But yes, there’s a different kind of pressure from parents as the first. It’s different too when you’re the first and only. I don’t think my father will ever forgive me for not being a son.” You say honestly.

“That is not something you can control.”

“Certainly not. But sometimes I wonder if life would have been different for me had I been born a man. I would be free.” You say wistfully.

“Free…” He thinks about that for a moment.

The two of you sit in a mutual understanding of each other, perhaps the first real one. No more words have to be said. Yuuji calls out for the two of you to look, and does a hard spike at Megumi. The other boy dodges, yelling at him some more about being more gentle with it.

The two of you chuckle softly at them.

“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about.” The Duke suddenly says.

“Of course.”

“It’s about Lord Geto.” He states, voice serious.

Last night’s events come back to you, and you bristle with anger at the thought of Lord Geto.

“Do not worry about him, my lord. We are through. I will not be speaking with him anymore.” You say.

He sighs in relief.

“Good, good. That’s all I wanted.” He replies.

You hum happily in response. You think that maybe this might be the most content you’ve been in a while. People pass you by, occasionally looking at the two boys fighting on the field and the two of you side by side on the picnic blanket. But you don’t mind.

Let them look.

—

You head back to your estate, humming quietly to yourself. You enter through the front doors, placing your umbrella off to the side.

“Mother! I’ve returned!” You call out.

“In here, darling!” She yells back in return.

You follow her voice to the tea room, and immediately stop in your tracks.

Your mother and father are sitting down, accompanied by Lord Geto.

“Sweetheart, so kind of you to finally join us.” Your mother says sweetly.

Panic immediately rises in your chest. Something here is not right. Why is Lord Geto in your tea room?

“What’s going on? What is he doing here?” You ask angrily.

“Do not fret, darling.” Lord Geto says.

Your father stands, coming to walk towards you.

“Lord Geto has come to us to ask for your hand.” He says sternly.

Your heart drops. A long, loud thud to the ground. You know what this means, you know how desperate your mother was to get you married off. The next words that come out of your father’s lips only solidify it.

“We have accepted. You are going to be betrothed to the Earl.”

Chapter Text

On another front, there is a new engagement within the Ton. The Earl of York, Suguru Geto, is now betrothed to the daughter of the Viscount of Leicester, our diamond of the season. A shocker to none, indeed. The two have frequently been seen at the balls of the season thus far looking very friendly.

The Duke of Devonshire still continues to be seen in public, most recently seen with the aforementioned daughter in Central Park. There seems to be no betrothal in sight for the Duke, but do not be dissuaded, dear reader. This author sees a romance in his future.

As always, yours truly,

Lady Whistledown.

–

“What the hell?!” Choso yells, standing up from his chair.

Choso, unsuspecting and having a rather pleasant morning, decided to read the morning gossip simply because he had nothing else to do. Instead of meaningless chatter, he’s met with possibly the worst information he’s ever heard in his life. You and the Earl? Seriously?

“What ever is the matter with you, brother?” Eso asks, confused.

“She’s engaged, and to Suguru Geto! I only just found out from bloody Lady Whistledown of all things.” He seethes, throwing the pamphlet onto his desk.

Eso continues to sit in his chair, only raising an eyebrow at his brother’s dismay.

“And the issue with that is?” Eso questions, flipping through his own newspaper. “She’s a woman, and now she’s betrothed. This was the plan all along.”

Choso laughs an outraged, broken laugh.

“The issue with that, dear brother, is that she lied to me. She told me she was done speaking with him, I was rather happy to hear it, and now they are engaged.” Choso has his head in his hands, pushing his loose hair back.

Eso, rather done with the conversation, chooses to instead humor his older brother.

“Brother, you are truly smart, but also an awful idiot sometimes.” He simply states.

Choso gawks, not used to pushback from his younger siblings. He points a shaky finger at Eso.

“You… you… I ought to-”

“Think deeply about this, brother. I will not make the connection for you. Discover why you are so upset about this matter.”

Choso, now the confused one, slowly lowers his hand.

“What? I just told you, she lied to me.”

“Perhaps she did, perhaps she did not. But I do not think that is the only reason you are disturbed by this piece of information.” Eso claims.

“What else could possibly be upsetting me, Eso. Please explain.” Choso states, walking around the room, “God, and you call me the idiot.”

Eso sighs, closing his newspaper.

“One day, brother, you’ll see what the rest of us already do. Maybe not Yuuji, but he is not the brightest. The rest of us, however, are not so blind.” Eso cryptically tells Choso.

“Eso, I do not know what is going on with you, but I do not have time for this. I must figure out what is going through that foolish woman’s head.” He says, standing up and putting his suit jacket on.

He strides out of the door, a man on a mission. Eso, still seated, watches him go with a small shake of his head.

He’s rather done with this whole thing, and he has a feeling in his gut that this situation won’t be over anytime soon.

—

Choso knocks on the door of your estate fervently, waiting impatiently for the butlers to answer. When they do, he immediately requests your presence.

“I need to see her. Now.” Choso says sternly.

He is invited in, and he waits in the lobby of your home, pacing back and forth. He stares at whatever catches his attention, hoping to find something to pass the time with.

Your home is bright and airy. Baby blue walls adorned with paintings of greenery and joy. He recognizes one of the paintings hanging as one you did yourself. He hears footsteps from the top of the staircase, and swivels around to only be met with your mother.

She slowly walks down, acknowledging his presence with a stern once over.

“Duke Kamo, what a surprise! What graces us with your presence?” She says, voice gravelly.

Impatiently, Choso shuts her down.

“I am here to see your daughter.”

Your mother laughs, and it fills him with heated annoyance.

“I thank you for your time, Duke Kamo, but I am afraid we are no longer accepting suitors as of now.”

Choso pauses, a blush creeping down his face. He stutters, not expecting his presence to be misinterpreted this way.

“I… I apologize, my lady, but that was not my intention. I simply seek to speak with her about her recent engagement.” He states firmly.

“Ah, yes! Such a joyous affair, is it not?” She chuckles.

“Respectfully, I-”

“Lord Kamo?”

Your voice echoes from the top of the stairs behind your mother, and his eyes leave her immediately. You’re underdressed, in a mere nightgown and barefoot, like you were caught off guard. Your hair is mused like you just woke up, and his chest pulls tight.

“My lady.” He greets, bending into a soft bow.

“What on earth are you doing here looking like that?! Get back inside, now!” Your mother scolds loudly.

Choso, rather sick of your mother, immediately opens his mouth to defend you. Instead, you sigh, walking down the stairs past her.

“It’s fine, Mother. ‘Tis just the Duke. Go back inside, I will be with you shortly.” You plead.

Choso watches you come down, the sun draping down around you through the window. It is almost like a halo, he finds. Taking in your words, he feels an innate sense of satisfaction that you feel comfortable enough to be so vulnerable around him, and that you’re willing to disobey your mother to display it.

Your mother, clearly aggravated by your rebellion, huffs. She stomps her way back inside, no doubt to complain to her husband.

His satisfaction is short-lived. You turn to face him, and you look absolutely exhausted. There are dark circles under your eyes that were not present the last time he saw you, your eyes the variety of swollen that only comes from hours of crying.

“What is it that you require, my lord?” You ask softly.

He gapes for a moment, unsure of how to approach the topic. His previously practiced approach that was basically entirely on the offensive slips his mind completely.

“I’m here about your engagement.” He decides on.

“Ah. That.” You chuckle humourlessly.

“You cannot seriously be thinking about marrying him. I thought you were past this. We just spoke about how you were done with him!” Choso says, the hurt seeping through into his words.

“Indeed.”

“So, what, you lied? Were you speaking with him this whole time?”

You laugh again, tone more bitter this time.

“I did not lie. I was under the impression he understood we were not to speak any longer. I was wrong.”

“So what, that’s it, then? You just get married off to him like cattle?”

“You act like I have a choice in the matter. Why do you care anyways? This has nothing to do with you!” You angrily spit.

“It has everything to do with me!” He shouts back.

“Oh, god, please explain that to me. You told me a while back that I was scaring away suitors. Is that what this is about? You being wrong in your assumptions?!”

“My brother cares about you, which means by extension, I-” He breathes through his nose, calming himself, “Which means that I need to look out for your wellbeing. I cannot do that if you are marrying a man as despicable as him.”

“You think I do not know that he is despicable? I despise him! You always do this.” You groan, running a hand over your face.

“Do what?”

“Pick a fight with me over everything! You’re insufferable. Is that all you came here to do? Argue with me?”

“No! I came here to try to convince you to end your engagement, but it always has to be a fight with you apparently!”

Choso leaves out the part that he’s trying to do this for your own good, because for some reason, he’s uncomfortable with admitting that he cares. Aggravated, you bite back.

“And I am trying to tell you, my lord, I can’t. That’s your problem, you just don’t listen to me!”

“You can, you are just choosing not to fight for it!”

“I have fought my whole life for freedom and it has surmounted to absolutely nothing. So no, I won’t fight, because nothing will come of it!” You yell, pointing a finger at him as if this is somehow his fault.

“Do you even know about his past? He’s killed people. Do you understand the gravity of what that means?” Choso says, nearly begging you.

“It does not matter. None of it matters. It’s over.” You state, voice gradually decreasing in volume.

“Are your standards really that low that you would accept spending the rest of your life with a monster?! What happened to wanting a man that was at least kind?! You would be happy to be by his side forever without even attempting otherwise?”

Silence. It’s sudden, eerie, and Choso finds himself nearly suffocated by it. His words seem to have finally broken you down.

You sniffle, and Choso’s anger drops to zero almost instantaneously.

“Just go. Leave.” You whisper.

“Look,” He begins, “I am sorry I upset you, but I heavily implore you to think-”

“Leave!” You scream at him. “I wish to not see your face any longer! You’ve made your point, now go.”

He stops talking. Sees the state you’re in. Knows no good will come of trying to sway you now. With a slow nod, he turns to leave, walking towards the front door. Before he goes, he speaks once more. One final attempt.

“You would not be alone. There are people that are on your side. I am on your side.” He says softly, before opening the door and walking out.

He doesn’t look back.

—

The third ball of the season. It’s here, and it is at your estate.

The maids have been frantically preparing for days, making sure the entire property was pristine and presentable to the Ton. You personally have been doing nothing of the sorts.

You have not seen your husband-to-be since the arrangement, and you’re rather happy about it. It would be peaceful if your mother was not constantly talking about wedding preparations. No doubt, she will continue to talk about them tonight as well.

Your maids dress you. Emerald green is the colour of choice for your attire tonight, and you allow yourself to be dolled up like a porcelain doll. An inanimate object which will soon belong to a man you want nothing to do with.

You have felt the constant weight on your shoulder, body involuntarily preparing for the inevitable. Exhaustion wracks you. During a time which should be joyful, you are instead filled with an existential dread. You do not know why you’re so surprised. You have been expecting this outcome, anticipating to be married to a man you do not get along with. A man who does not truly care for you.

Perhaps you thought you had more time.

The guests begin to arrive, piling through the door one by one. You stand beside your mother near the entrance, welcoming the first few that come in. Wondering if the next person that leaves a carriage will be your betrothed.

“Do not be so down. Smile. There are people watching.” Your mother chides, still smiling at the guests that walk by.

Forcefully, a tense smile pulls across your cheeks.

You just want this whole nightmare to be over.

Eventually, you leave her side quietly, choosing to enter the dancefloor instead. If you were forced to be here anyways, why not enjoy some refreshments while you are at it?

“My lady!” A woman’s voice calls out.

You turn, not expecting the person you see. A friend that you have not seen for some time.

“Miwa! What a surprise. I have not seen you in ages.” You say with a smile.

She giggles, her earrings swaying back and forth.

“Indeed, it has been too long! How are you? I heard about your recent engagement! Congratulations, you deserve it.” She chirps.

You blink, forcing down the words you truly want to say. The unspoken truth sits like a heavy weight in your throat.

“Yes, thank you. I heard about your own marriage, how is your new husband?” You ask.

“Oh, Kokichi is wonderful! We are so in love, every day is another day to look forward to with one another.” She swoons, clasping her hands together.

You try not to be bitter. It’s not her fault. However, looking at her feels like a glimpse into the life you’ve always wanted, and now will never have. You smile, patting her elbow softly.

“That is amazing, Miwa. I’m so happy for you.” You tell her earnestly.

She continues to talk at you, and your line of vision wanders. While scanning the crowd absentmindedly, you lock eyes with the second last person you want to see right now.

Of course Duke Kamo is here as well.

As soon as he sees you, he begins to walk towards you, and is stopped by another lord of the Ton. He looks irritated to be interrupted, and you would laugh if you weren’t so irate with him.

“We should have tea soon! You must come see Kokichi’s grounds, they are truly beautiful. We have the most lovely garden!” Miwa says excitedly.

“That sounds delightful, Miwa. Send me an invitation, I will definitely be there.”

The two of you separate with sincere goodbyes, and you go to grab another beverage. You push through the crowds of people, briefly apologizing. The band playing in the background plays happy and upbeat tunes, no doubt due to your mother’s good mood.

You whip out your fan, flicking it open and fanning yourself briefly. The summer has become hot.

Ladies in attendance of the ball continue to approach you throughout the night, congratulating you on your successful engagement so soon into the season. You thank each and every one of them with a kind smile, despite the fact that a part of you withers further and further every conversation you have about it.

You have never been one to socialize in large groups, but you suppose this is your life now. The life of a married woman, reduced to mere gossiping and being a visual piece for your husband’s vanity.

You notice that the men no longer approach you now that they know you are spoken for. It is funny how that works.

“Is something amusing you, darling?”

And comes the appearance of the man you wish to see the least. Suguru Geto, in all his glory, has finally arrived and discovered your presence. You turn, a frown gracing your features.

“Oh. You are here.” You state matter-of-factly.

He chuckles.

“Well of course. I would never miss the opportunity to spend time with my beloved.” He smiles.

You don’t know how you were ever swayed by his smile. It’s sinister, cunning, and always has an undercurrent of mockery. You hate him. You hate him, loathe his very being. You scoff at him, placing your empty glass on a nearby tray.

“Beloved. Now that amuses me.” You sneer.

Chuckling, he swiftly moves forward, interlocking your arm with his own.

“Do not be so down, my dear. This is going to be a great union. You just have to become accustomed to your new status as my betrothed.” He says, forcing you to walk with him.

“I will never be accustomed to it. I despise you, Lord Geto.” You reply, face turned away from him.

“It’s Suguru now, my love.” He corrects, ignoring your last statement.

“It will be a cold day in hell before I ever call you Suguru.” You seethe.

“So quick witted. I wonder where you got that sharp tongue. Clearly not from your parents, who are so agreeable.” He continues, “But do not fret, my dear. You will call me Suguru soon enough.”

You can read through the lines and see the thinly veiled threat in his words.

“If you find my tongue so sharp perhaps you should not marry me.” You state.

“On the contrary, my dear. It is exactly why I want to marry you. Who will challenge me if not my wife?” He asks cheerfully.

“I think that is called an enemy, Lord Geto.” You snip.

“Is it not the same thing? Marriage, fighting, enemies. There is no marriage truly without flaw. I assume that with time, we will get over this bump in the road.” He says matter-of-factly.

“This bump in the road that you speak of, Lord Geto, is forcing me into a marital pact that I want nothing to do with. I want nothing to do with you. Why do you torture me so? Does it pleasure you?” You ask, the desperation you have been feeling for days beginning to seep into your words.

He laughs heartily. You loathe the sound.

“It has nothing to do with pleasure, my dear. It simply comes down to the fact that when I see something I want, I get it. And believe me, I have wanted you from the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

Defeat. It settles deep into your bones. If there was any hope remaining inside you, it has long left. You come to the realization that this man has no intention of letting you go anytime soon. You are trapped, a fly in a spider’s web, waiting to be devoured.

“You-”

“Suguru.”

Prince Gojo stands in front of you, a vision in all white. The man beside you smiles, and it makes you feel like you are missing out on some unspoken history that has never been disclosed.

“Satoru.”

“I hear you’re engaged. Mind if I dance with your betrothed?” The prince asks, voice light and airy.

Nervously, you look at Geto. His expression is unreadable, face void of any emotion. He ends up resuming his smiling, all pretendian and filled with sharp edges. You fully expect him to say no, despite not knowing anything about their past.

“Of course not. My dear?” He says, looking at you.

You give a small nod, anxiously glancing up at the prince. Prince Gojo reaches out a hand, and you take it, letting him lead you to the dancefloor.

He holds you close, an arm wrapped around your waist. He lowers his head just enough to whisper in your ear.

“You need to be careful with him. Very careful.” The prince says.

You sigh tiredly.

“Yes, I am aware. You are not the first person to have this conversation with me.” You reply.

“I cannot stop you if this is what you choose, but I would not be able to live with myself if I did not at least try to change your mind.”

He spins you, and you come back to face him.

“”Tis not my mind you must change. It is my mother’s.” You tell him.

“An arranged marriage?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

You nod solemnly, and he hums introspectively.

“Now that is a shame. I would have expected better from the Viscount.”

“They do not care about me, they care about title. The status of Earl is more than enough to sway them from any rumors they may have heard about him.” You say, led across the dancefloor.

You look, and Geto is carefully watching you. Eyes unwavering, posture rigid. This, perhaps, is the first time you have ever seen him on edge. He does not blink.

“I can speak to them. Attempt to change their mind.” The prince says earnestly.

You laugh softly. Without humor.

“There is no point, unfortunately. To them, the threat of me not finding another is far greater than that of me being at his mercy.”

“I am very sorry, then.” Prince Gojo states earnestly.

You’re surprised at his sudden sincerity, the in his voice making your eyes water slightly. You blink away the tears, instead focusing on the movement of your footsteps on the tile.

“What is your history with Lord Geto?” You ask, changing subjects.

“It is a long one, indeed.” He replies.

“We have time. The song is not yet over.” You say with a smile.

He chuckles, indulging you.

“He was my closest friend. My only friend, at a time. We were… inseparable. Everything we did we did together. One day, he started changing. He became distant, irritable. He looked more tired, walking around everywhere with a frown. I did not realize until it was too late.”

“Realize what, my lord?”

“That he was indulging in literature far beyond morally correct. Passages in books that spoke of greater humans and lesser beings. Content of class divide and the less educated. Once upon a time, believe it or not, he was a good man. He wanted to help people.” He says wistfully. “That was, until the day he stopped believing it was worth it.”

You stay silent, absorbing the new information provided by the prince. There is one question on the tip of your tongue, one that has been lingering on your mind for days.

“The Duke, he mentioned that Lord Geto has… killed people. Is this true?” You murmur, equally afraid to say the words as you are to hear the response.

“I highly suspect it. He was under the impression that his parents were uneducated beasts masquerading as the upper class. Shortly after, his estate went up in flames, the doors locking them in. I believe it was him. I always have.”

You nod slowly. The news that you may be engaged to a potential murderer is not settling easy with you.

“Thank you for being so candid with me, my lord. I know it could not have been easy for you.”

“It is no matter to me. Somewhere deep down, I still have hope that one day he will change. Perhaps it will be you that initiates it.” He says.

“I cannot be so sure. He appears set in his beliefs. I have my own qualms with him and his hatred for others, and I can only wish that he does not speak about it with me. That is my single reprieve from this nightmare.” You confess.

“The best of luck then to you, darling. If you ever need help, or even a simple break, just call for me. I will be there. It is the least I can do.” The prince tells you.

The song finishes, and you both bow. You murmur a quick ‘thank you’, overwhelmed by his graciousness.

When you turn to leave, you move in the opposite direction of your betrothed. He catches up to you.

Forcefully, he grips your arm, and you flinch.

“My dear.” He says, voice sinfully sweet.

Your bottom lip trembles, and you force yourself to be composed before you face him. You cannot let him see you weak. If he does, god only knows how he will use it to his advantage.

“My lord.” You say, bowing slightly.

“Dance with me.” It is not a request.

You nod, and he wraps an arm around your waist, leading you to the floor. The happy music does not match the energy in the air between the two of you. It’s thick with tension, covered in a layer of mendacity. No one around you would be able to tell what is truly happening with the smile on Lord Geto’s face.

“Well? Did you enjoy your dance with the prince?” He says, voice carrying uncontained mockery.

“Yes, I did, actually. It was rather enlightening.” You reply smugly.

His eyebrow twitches. Possibly for the first time, you are getting under his skin.

“Enlightening? That is not the description I would have expected.” He feigns obliviousness.

“Well, it is the description I would use. Best friends? How sweet. I did not believe you were capable of friendship.” You jab with a smile.

The smile drops from his face. He’s no longer wearing his mask.

“Careful, love. You are treading onto dangerous territory.” He tells you, voice barely above a murmur.

His grip around your waist is tight, fingers painfully gripped around your corseted midsection.

“You should get used to it, my lord. I do rather like living on the edge.” You reply.

“I am starting to realize that. Well, I suppose I have the rest of my life to become accustomed, no? After all, we are soon to be bound for eternity.”

Eternity. An eternity with him sounds like the hell they only whisper about in the bible. You try to remain calm, and not be overcome with anxiety.

“Yes, well, perhaps I may become used to how intolerable you are. Although I highly doubt that.”

Lord Geto stares at you for a moment. Slowly and controlled, he leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You just love being a fucking brat, don’t you?” He murmurs.

When the air leaves your lungs, it’s forceful and not at all gentle. You cannot control the way your eyes widen, nor the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“I thought you were more of a… sophisticated woman, not like those monkeys you call friends. I thoroughly enjoyed our chatter about literature. Believed we were on the same page. Perhaps we are not.” He muses.

You bite your tongue at his choice of wording, despite the way it enrages you. What overcomes you more is panic.

“Then maybe you should forgo this farce of an engagement.” You reply, voice trembling.

“No…” He starts, an egregious smile creeping onto his cheeks.

“... I think I will just change you.”

—

Choso is struggling. As usual.

He had to show up to this event. He could not leave you alone with that monster of a man. Would not forgive himself if he did.

Honestly, he was surprised he even received an invitation after his run in with your mother a few days prior. He’s sure he did not leave the greatest impression of himself. Choso tries not to think about it too heavily.

From the moment he arrives, he looks for you. Yuuji is by his side, chatting indistinctively about anything that crosses his mind. He tries to respond when he can, despite his mind being elsewhere. His brother is distracted anyways the moment Kugisaki arrives.

Time stops when he finally lays eyes on you.

As usual, everything about your outward appearance is pristine. Proper. You glimmer in this yellow lighting, dolled up no doubt by your maids. Not a thing about you is out of place. You are… perfect.

You don’t notice him at first, talking to a woman he does not recognize. Your eyes glaze over the crowd, finally landing on him. He ignores the feeling in his chest when you immediately frown at his presence. He begins to walk over to you, and is swiftly interrupted by Lord Okkotsu.

He grits his teeth and bears it, vowing to find you after.

Lo and behold, thus begins a long night of the exact same situation over and over again.

Every time Choso is finally freed from a meaningless, empty conversation, he’s wrapped into another, stuck in an endless loop of talking to people he wants nothing to do with at the moment. Occasionally, he glances over to you, just to make sure of… something. He’s not too sure what.

Dread fills him when he looks at you and finds you talking with Lord Geto.

Realistically, he always knew he would be in attendance. He’s your betrothed. Something about seeing him, however, is different than imagining it. It enrages him.

Before he can get to you, Gojo interrupts your little tryst with Geto. He’s not sure whether to thank his lucky stars or Gojo for the break in conversation.

After your dance with the prince, he decides that then is the time to approach. Your betrothed finds you before he does.

All he’s left to do is watch. Watch you dance with Geto, filled with anger, bitterness, resentment. It consumes him, and he is unable to hide how unhappy it makes him. Nanami, who appeared beside him, places a hand on his shoulder. A show of understanding.

You started off the dance with Geto confident. He saw it in the way you carried yourself. High, high above Geto, above him, above everyone. It gave him some peace.

And slowly, after talking with him more, you begin to wilt, like a flower come autumn.

He hates it. You’re powerful. You’re confident, bold, and stubborn beyond belief. He is nearly unable to have a conversation with you without some form of bickering, because you refuse to take anything. He admires that about you.

With Geto, it’s like it all disappears. Everything that makes you who you are. Everything he looks upon with a sense of warmth.

And he loathes it. It envelops him with an anger he’s never felt.

Geto leans down, whispering in your ear. That seems to be the final blow.

Whatever he says, it leaves you in a clear daze for the rest of the dance. He hears Nanami calling his name, but it sounds so distant, so far beyond him. As soon as the song ends, you run.

He chases you. Geto does not.

When he does not find you anywhere on the premises, he has half a mind to go back in and kill Geto with his own two hands.

Whatever he said to you, it made you want to disappear.

You’re gone.

—

You lay in bed. It’s quiet.

Your parents have done you the honour of leaving you alone and ignoring the fact that you are still in bed this late. You did your duty as their daughter last night. That is all they needed from you.

The sheets are pulled up nearly to your chin, and your eyes feel like they are weighted. Your body is weak, limbs heavy. Likely case, you’ll end up in bed for the rest of the day. You have already skipped breakfast and lunch, why not dinner as well?

Geto had tried to make an appearance at your estate. You told your mother to leave at once when she relayed the information, and she disappeared in a huff. No doubt he stayed to have tea with your parents. You ignored his presence in your home.

Sleep comes easily. Occasionally, your maid will peek her head in to check on you, and you dismiss her with a wave of her hand.

“...I think I will just change you.”

You cannot breathe. Your chest hurts. You’re suffocating.

Your situation could not possibly get worse.

You’re at the mercy of a man who does not even like you. Maybe, just maybe, if you had let him walk all over you, if you had submitted to him, he would not despise you so. Perhaps you would not be threatened with being forced into submission.

When you think about allowing him to change the fundamentals of who you are, you think about Yuuji. You think about the Duke. The Kamos, who your betrothed- no, Geto, refuses to acknowledge based on the simple fact that Yuuji was not raised in the Ton. Yuuji, who is filled with nothing but kindness and love and youthful joy.

You cannot concede. It goes against everything you believe in.

If he has to force you into submitting to him, so be it. At least you would not do it by choice.

“My lady.” Your maid calls from the door.

“What is it?” You ask, voice small.

“You have a visitor.” She replies.

You sigh, shifting in the bed slightly. You rub your eyes tiredly.

“Whoever it is, I do not wish to see them. Send them away. I wish to be alone.” You tell her.

“I apologize, but… he is right here, my lady. It would be untoward.”

You pause, turning towards the door.

Your maid is never allowed to bring people straight to your room. Your mother strictly forbids it. Who would she willingly bring to you?

You sit up in bed.

“Who?”

“I apologize for intruding, my lady.”

Ah.

“Duke Kamo.” You greet.

You push the sheets to the side, getting out of bed and giving a small polite bow. He bows his head slightly in response. The maid leaves, the two of you now alone in your bedroom.

“What can I do for you, my lord?” You ask, voice a little scratchy from unuse.

“I just came to check on you after last night. I did not have the chance to speak with you.” He says softly.

“I apologize, my lord. I was… preoccupied.” You decide on.

“I noticed.” He starts, “I also wanted to apologize for our argument the last time we spoke. My behaviour was unseemly. I am sorry.”

You give him a small smile.

“No need, my lord. I apologize as well. I have not been myself lately.” An understatement.

Briefly, his eyes flicker over you. If you cared any more, you would be embarrassed at the state of your appearance. Sleep ridden, groggy, and in your nightgown. You would be embarrassed if it was anyone but Duke Kamo in front of you.

It helps indeed that he does not look displeased with what he sees.

“So, how are you?” He asks.

You sigh, voice wavering.

“Not well, if I am being honest-”

“Is it him? Did he hurt you?”

He speaks quickly, firmly. He seems appalled to even say the words, shoulders visibly pulled back, irritated. Like a cat ready to pounce at the slightest indication.

“That’s a quick assumption.” You laugh softly.

“Is it the truth?”

You pause.

“...Not physically, no.” You murmur.

“So he did hurt you, then.” He says, jaw clenched.

You choose not to respond, instead looking down at your feet, ashamed. Ashamed of what, you are unsure.

The Duke walks up to you, close, closer than you think he has ever been, and raises your chin with his finger. He looks down at you, eyebrows pulled together, almost desperate.

“Talk to me.” He whispers.

Heat rises, low and deep in your gut. You let out a shuddered exhale.

“It… ‘tis nothing, my lord. Please, do not worry yourself-”

“Of course I am going to worry!” He says, pushing away from you.

The duke paces your room, obviously stressed. He raises a hand, pushing the stray hairs out of his face.

“My lord-”

“Do you have any idea what I would do to him?”

You pause.

“Sorry?” You choke out.

“If I ever find out that he’s hurt you, god…” He rubs his temples, then steps closer.

You watch him move, unable to find the words you feel you should say. He’s never said anything like this before. Your mouth parts, and instead of speaking, you simply place a hand on his chest, right over his heart.

He stops pacing.

“My lord…” You murmur, breath heavy.

Your foreheads are nearly touching. He’s close, so close. Everything around you fades away for a moment. All you can hear, all you can feel, is the movement of his chest, his breathing, his heart beating a little faster than normal.

You could move. You could stop whatever this is right now, nip it in the bud. You find, however, that the feeling low in your stomach, the butterflies in your chest, are speaking for you. Forcing your body close to his own.

“Let me speak to your parents.” He says, voice gravelly.

“I told you, that will not work. They do not care about me so deeply they would cancel my engagement.” You murmur.

“I’ll make them listen, then.”

“No. It will only make things worse for me.”

He sighs, exasperated.

“Why are you so stubborn?” He speaks, softly but sternly. The words tickle your skin.

Scolding you with affection behind his words.

“Stubborn?” You grumble.

“Yes, stubborn. You will not let anyone else help you with anything, it all has to be done by you.”

“I think that is called being independent, my lord.” You quip back.

“Or foolish.”

You bristle, pushing him away at the contact you have with his chest.

“What is your problem? You always have to start something with me.” You say, aggravated.

“My problem? What about your problem! I am trying to help you fix it, and you will not accept my help!” He gripes.

“Because I do not need it. I can figure this out on my own.” You argue.

“Yes, because that has been working so well thus far.”

“I hate you.” You tell him earnestly.

He laughs then, deep and baritone. Disbelief is evident on his sharp features.

“Really, you hate me?”

“Yes, I hate you. You aggravate me. Just when I thought I could finally get along with you, you go and pull this!” You yell.

“You are insufferable.” He groans.

“If I am insufferable, you are deluded.” You scoff.

Closer. He’s big, much bigger than you.

“You are crazy.”

“Mentally insane.”

Closer. Your eyes flicker down to his lips.

“Psychotic.”

“Unstable.”

The two of you have no space between you, staring each other dead in the eyes. He doesn’t back down, and neither will you. Your chest rises and falls, breathing deeply. He has this look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

Like he’s seeing right through you. That he knows what you really want.

“Unhinged.” He murmurs.

“Deranged.” You whisper.

He rushes forward, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. You gasp into his mouth, body reacting immediately. He groans into your mouth like he’s been craving this, waiting for it.

It’s all teeth and hunger. He grips your waist, pulling you flush against him. You run your hands through his hair, moving his face impossibly close.

You don’t know what you are doing. You have never experienced anything like this, and you doubt he has either. It’s primal, the way you allow yourselves to just feel, for your bodies to take over and do exactly what it was made for. Your body slots against him, and it almost makes you feel like you were made for him.

He pushes you back against your dressing table, hoisting you up. Glass falls, shattering on the floor. You wrap your legs around him, still locked lips, achingly eager. That flame that was once dim and simmering in your stomach is now a wildfire, bright and yearning for him.

Your nails run along his neck, his back, anything you can reach. His large hands are on you, holding you in place, kneading the fat of your hips. You slip your tongue into his mouth teasingly, testing the waters.

He pulls back, running desperate and rushed kisses down the expanse of your throat. Your nightgown is pushed up, and you can feel his hardness against your barely clothed core. You gasp, throwing your head back with a hearty moan.

“Choso…” You breathe.

He stops. Pulls back. Suddenly looks very aware of what he’s doing to you.

His face drops.

“I… I am so sorry, I should not have…”

He backs up.

“Choso?” You call out to him.

“This should not- This cannot happen.” He says, before rushing out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

You’re left alone, sitting on your dressing table, surrounded by broken perfume bottles, wondering what the hell just happened.

Chapter Text

“Psychotic.”

“Unstable.”

“Unhinged.”

“Deranged.”

His lips on yours, soft to the touch but rough with his movements. Desperate. Sharing saliva, all tongue and teeth, no experience behind it. Primal. Instinctual. Rushed, like this will be the one and only time.

His hair was smooth in between your fingertips, the raking of nails on his scalp causing him to moan into your mouth unashamedly.

Your back hitting the table, him pressing his hardness against your damp underwear. His breath against your face. His lips on the expanse of your neck.

More.

“Choso…”

More.

“-Big Sister!”

You snap out of your stupor. Yuuji calls to you from the grass, catching your attention. You smile, body tense.

“Yes, Yuuji?” You shout.

“Watch this!” He shouts back.

He kicks the football forward, shooting it and kicking it straight into the net, right over Eso’s head. He lets out a whoop, jumping in the air, while Eso scowls.

“Again!” Eso yells.

You watch the boys bicker, sitting on your chair doing embroidery. Well… you were. The ring sits on your lap, half done and ignored. You run your fingers along your lips softly, retracing where Choso’s lips were on yours just days prior. Heat rises in your core just thinking about it.

The backdoors open up behind you, and you turn around swiftly, expecting Choso. It’s Kechizu, and you feel guilty for the way your shoulders sag.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Are you alright?” He asks quietly.

You sigh, nodding.

“I apologize, Kechizu. I am just on edge lately.” You reply. “Come, sit with me.”

He obliges, sitting in the chair next to you. Eso continues to get more irate with Yuuji as he scores more goals, Yuuji doubling over in a fit of laughter about it.

“He’s truly talented, isn’t he?” You muse.

Kechizu hums.

“Too talented for his own good. He does not know what to do with it.”

You chuckle, picking up your embroidery needle and continuing to work.

“He will, with time. He is a loose cannon right now. Yuuji will grow up and hone his skills, I am sure.” You say.

“You have faith in him.” Kechizu states matter-of-factly.

“You do not?” You tease.

Kechizu flushes, pouting, and you laugh at him.

“I jest. Of course I do, and I know you do too. Just like Eso, and just like Choso, in his own way.” You say, pushing the needle through the fabric.

It’s silent for a moment, and you glance up casually at Kechizu. He’s staring.

“Is something the matter?” You ask.

Kechizu looks like he’s debating on whether or not to speak his mind, before ultimately giving in.

“It is nothing, I just… I do not think I have heard you call my brother by his given name before.” He points out.

Your heart skips a beat. You school your face, not betraying the panic you suddenly feel at trying to cover your slip up.

“Ah, you know, I call the three of you by your given names, I figured that I should refer to the duke that way as well. If it makes you uncomfortable, though-”

“It does not. I like it.” He says simply.

You hum, going back to your embroidery. You try to act nonchalant, but your hands are trembling. Your hand slips, and you prick yourself with your needle. You curse, putting the wound into your mouth.

“Are you alright?” Kechizu asks, panicked.

“I am quite fine, I just-” You hiss, watching the blood trickle down, “I just pricked myself. Nothing to fret over.”

It makes you feel foolish. You have not pricked your finger on embroidery needles since you were a little girl. What is happening to you? You sigh, putting down the ring for good before you bleed all over it.

“Do you need it bandaged?” Kechizu asks.

You stare down at your finger. The blood has not stopped, still trickling down your finger and running lightly down the back of your hand.

“Perhaps. It is a deeper wound than I previously had thought.” You confess.

“My brother should be inside in the tea room. He knows how to bandage wounds. He has practiced countless times. Eso and Noranso injured themselves while playing football quite frequently.”

You pause.

If you say no, it looks strange, especially after calling him by his first name in front of his brother. The reality is, you really do not want to see him. He’s been avoiding you for days, and continues to hide even when you are present at his estate.

But your finger is stinging, it is irritating you, and you just want to get back to embroidery.

You sigh a great, deep sigh.

“I suppose I will go see if he is still there.” You purse your lips.

Kechizu chuckles.

“Good luck.”

‘Good luck’? His ominous message that he leaves you with makes you feel like he knows something you do not. It’s unsettling.

Ignoring your gut feeling, you enter the house, walking towards the tea room. You’ve been present in the house enough to know exactly where it is.

You stand in front of the door for a moment.

Really, you should just walk back outside. The wound will close eventually, and you can just spend time with the brothers until then. It will all be fine. You do not have to face the duke, and you can go about your day.

You turn around, ready to walk down the hall. The door swings open behind you.

“Kechizu, I thought we agreed upon no more lingering-”

He stops, and you close your eyes, sighing deeply.

You’ve been caught.

“‘It is just me.” You say quietly, turning around to face him.

You have not seen him since that night. His hair is down today, pieces framing his strong features. His eyes are wide, clearly not expecting to see you on the other side of the door. He’s only wearing an undershirt, the chest of it wide open.

Your mouth waters.

“Oh.” He mutters. “What are you doing here?”

You lift up your injured hand, the blood dripping down your fingers on full display. He leaps into action, pulling you into the tea room.

“Wait here.” He commands, sitting you down on the couch.

You fiddle with your fingers while you wait for him, staring at the tea room. It’s as boring as the rest of the house. Just as dreary as well. You go to open one of the curtains, allowing some light in.

The sun is hot on your skin through the glass. You close your eyes, feeling the summer sun.

You make the decision to open the rest of the curtains as well.

When the duke re-enters, he pauses and squints at the sudden light in his place of refuge.

“I thought I told you to wait in the chair.” He grunts.

“I do what I please.” You humph in retaliation, sitting back down on the couch.

He rolls his eyes, moving to sit beside you.

“Show me.” He murmurs.

You raise up the injured hand. He takes your hand gently in his own, beginning to wipe it down with a damp cloth. He’s careful, treating you like fine china. You wince when he goes over the direct puncture.

He pauses, glancing up at you for permission to continue. You nod.

“How did this happen?” He asks.

“Embroidery.” You simply say.

He hums. The duke wipes away the remainder of the blood. He places the towel off to the side, reaching for his small tray of aid supplies. He rolls up his sleeves, and you try to not notice the veins peeking out over thick muscles. Taking out the bandages, he unrolls them.

“You are not one to make simple mistakes like that.” He says suddenly.

You feel your cheeks grow hot, the real reason for your mishap coming to the forefront of your mind. You fumble for words, figuring out the most reasonable explanation that does not include confessing you were fantasizing about the man in front of you.

“I- well, I just… I was distracted in conversation with Kechizu.” You decide on.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not believing your story.

“Wrapped up in conversation with my brother, huh?” He mumbles, taking your hand once more.

He wraps your finger with the bandage. You take the opportunity to stare at him.

He looks rather beautiful in this light. Like a statue carved out by England’s finest artisan, all chiseled marble and sharp edges. His hair is longer than you had expected it to be, layered hair draping down his shoulders.

“What are you looking at?” He grumbles.

You exhale.

“You.”

He stills. Tired amber eyes meet your own. He does not address your statement, finishing up with wrapping the bandage. Once he decides that it will stay on, he stands.

“Change it in a few hours. Do what you wish until then.”

You watch him go.

“You are leaving?” You whisper.

He opens the door, leaving without sparing a second glance.

The duke leaves despite the fact that you were the one in his space, papers and documents laid out on the table in front of you. The room feels much bigger without him in it.

His tea is cold.

—

That night, a letter from Yuuji is delivered by your maid.

You find it rather amusing that he wrote a letter when he lives right next door. Using a letter opener, you tear it open. The chicken scratch making up the contents of the letter gives you trouble, but you get the general gist of what he is trying to say.

“A charity sports event, huh?” You murmur.

Allegedly, the Prince signed up the youngest Kamo to participate in a sports competition without his knowledge. By Yuuji’s words, you assume that the eldest was not made aware either.

He wants you in attendance for support.

Of course, you go.

The next day, you are dolled up in the summer heat, wearing a dark shade of amethyst purple. You carry your umbrella, walking amongst the stands and crowds of people. It is a bigger affair than you anticipated. There are vendors, games, and a plethora of seating for the insurmountable number of guests in attendance.

While walking to the stands, you see the Kamo brothers. Eso and Kechizu are seated, leaving an empty space on either side. One for you, and one for their eldest brother. On instinct, you prepare to walk over.

An arm interlinks into your own, holding tighter when you try to tug away.

“What a coincidence seeing you here, darling.”

You sigh.

“Lord Geto.”

“Sweetheart.”

He wears his usual fox-like grin. He’s lightly dressed, no doubt due to the summer heat. It almost makes you jealous. Oh, if only you were a man that did not have to wear corsets.

“What are you doing here? You do not believe in charity.” You quip.

He chuckles lowly.

“I had an inkling that you might possibly be in attendance, and it turns out I was right. Come, shall we find our seats?” He smiles.

Gritting your teeth, you nod, hoping that if you just comply he will eventually leave you be. He leads you in the opposite direction of the Kamo brothers. You sit in the third row of an adjacent stand, now waiting for the games to begin.

“I see you did not listen to me.” He says.

You raise an eyebrow, refusing to look at him.

“I do not listen to many things. You will have to be more specific.” You state.

“The Kamos. You still continue to speak with them.”

You look at the brothers sitting on the stands then. The duke has joined them. Eso and Kechizu are speaking about what’s happening on the field. The duke is looking directly at you. You turn away, unable to handle the weight of his gaze.

“That is one thing you cannot convince me to give up, unfortunately.”

You would willingly give up many things if forced to. Family, friends, your life. But them? Never that.

He makes a noise of discontent. A muted hum.

“Why are you so attached to those monkeys anyways?” He asks.

It almost sounds like a genuine question when he says it. You take a deep breath, calming yourself. The more you react, the better he feels.

“They are kind. They are intelligent. They are thoughtful, insightful. Most importantly, they are good people. I enjoy their company, much more than I enjoy your own.” You sneer.

“How fascinating. You wish to speak with them even though they are lesser?”

“They are not lesser. No one is lesser or greater than anyone else. We are all humans, and we are equal.” You tell him.

“You will come to realize eventually, my dear, that the divide between classes is too great to close. The unintelligent monkeys at the bottom of the chain will never reach us. They are lesser. It is a fact.” He grins.

The duke has disappeared from his seat. You only notice now when you longingly look over, thinking about where you could be right now compared to being with this insolent idiot. He should return soon, you rather think.

The event is beginning.

“I will not try to change your mind, Lord Geto-”

“-Suguru-”

“-Because you are beyond saving. I will not waste my words on you any longer.” You say.

He laughs, light and airy. He takes your hand, his fingers touching the bandage still wrapped around your finger.

“You are amusing, my dear. I cannot wait for you to be my wife.” He gleefully says.

“I cannot say the same.” You scoff.

You can see Yuuji on the field. He looks so excited to be there, so joyful. It fills your heart with warmth. You smile fondly.

“And when will I receive a smile like that again, dear?” He teases.

“When I am dead.” You quickly respond, mood souring.

He laughs louder this time, heartier. His long hair sways when he moves.

“We’ll see about that.” He grins slyly.

“Lord Geto!”

He frowns, turning towards the source of the voice. It’s his footman, running up from the direction of the carriages.

“The horses got loose!”

“What?!” He sneers, standing straight up.

“I apologize, my lord, I do not know what happened! I checked the reins mere minutes before they escaped.” The footman says.

“You incompetent monkey!” Geto seethes.

You watch as he storms off, going to fix whatever situation he got himself into. You humph, straightening out your dress, happy to be away from him. When he leaves, you think about going to sit with the Kamo brothers, until a presence sits down right beside you.

The duke is wearing a purple waistcoat today compared to the usual black or grey. His hair is up in his usual updo. You look at his hairstyle differently now that you know what it feels like to run your fingers through it.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, surprised.

“I saw you had an open seat, so I came to sit.”

You watch him suspiciously. His face does not betray anything, so you let it go.

“Yuuji is on the blue team it seems.” You muse.

The duke merely hums.

The resounding silence that follows is deafening. Attempting one more time, you speak up.

“Is it just football that they are playing? If so, I fear the other team is in for it. Yuuji’s favourite sport is football.” You chuckle.

The duke nods.

You bristle, turning away from him slightly. In your peripheral vision, he turns to you. He opens his mouth a few times to say something, but nothing comes out. Eventually, he finds words.

“Are you… alright?” He asks.

You roll your eyes, irritated with his behaviour.

“No, I am not. Why bother coming over here to sit if you will not even speak to me? It is foolish.” You snip.

He pauses, his face scrunching up for a moment. Like he’s wildly uncomfortable and unsure of how to handle this conversation.

“Against my better judgement, I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

You scoff.

“Against your better judgement? How charming.”

He rolls his eyes with a groan.

“‘Tis not like that. You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

He frowns.

Another silence blooms.

“I am… uncomfortable.” He suddenly says.

You turn to him, confused. Your silence is a cue for him to elaborate.

“With this. With the other night.”

“Ah.” You simply state. “That.”

He hums.

“I understand if you… regret it, my lord. You do not have to explain yourself.”

You prepare yourself for the inevitable hurt that is about to come. Of course he regrets it. That is why he has been avoiding you for nearly a week at this point. He may, but you don’t. It consumes you.

“Do not do that.” He says, voice soft.

“Do what?” You ask, puzzled.

“Do not call me only by my title like nothing happened.”

He pulls back, running desperate and rushed kisses down the expanse of your throat. Your nightgown is pushed up, and you can feel his hardness against your barely clothed core. You gasp, throwing your head back with a hearty moan.

“Choso…” You breathe.

You turn your face away, embarrassed.

“I am sorry.” He suddenly says. “I should not have done what I did. It was wrong of me. I dishonored you. I am plagued with guilt about it every single night.”

“Hold on a moment!” You gripe, “You act like I had nothing to do with it when I did. I chose it just as much as you did, I am not an inanimate object. You need not allow it to keep you up at night.”

He goes quiet at that, staring at the field.

The teams are announced with a speakerphone, and the crowd goes wild with whoops and cheers. You clap loudly when Yuuji runs onto the field, whistling and waving out at him. Choso gives a clap as well.

Yuuji grins when he sees the two of you, waving and jumping wildly.

“He looks happy.” Choso murmurs.

You smile, the boy’s joy infectious.

“He does. Thank you for letting him do this.” You say earnestly.

“I was not going to tell him no, no matter my feelings for the prince. He was so excited when he found out.”

The ball is kicked off, and the game begins. The players run across the field, passing the ball between each other. You simply clap when it looks like something happens. You do not really know anything about football, but you showed up anyway simply to support your younger brother.

“You are a good brother, Choso.” You tell him.

“Sometimes I worry otherwise.” He confesses.

You turn to him, confused.

“Why on earth would you think that?”

He looks uncomfortable. Like he is not used to speaking about this topic. You wonder if you are the only one he has ever confessed that to.

“I am not always there. Emotionally, that is. I was never taught how to deal with that, so I… avoid it. I feel sometimes that they deserve a brother who can truly open up around them and be a comfort in return.” He tells you.

“They do not need comfort. They need you.” You murmur, brushing your leg against his own.

“Everyone needs comfort.” He scoffs.

You know it is not you who he is truly mad at.

“True, but that is what they have each other for. You’re a pillar for them. They know that whatever they need, whenever they need, they have you to stand by them. You have sacrificed a lot for them. Have more grace with yourself, and trust that at the end of the day, they are happy. That is all that matters.”

He ponders your words for a moment. He does not reply. He bumps his leg against yours, and your fingers brush on the bench they are placed on.

“Thank you.” He says sincerely.

You smile softly, heat tickling the apples of your cheeks.

“You need not thank me. It is what I am here for.”

The crowd suddenly ramps up in volume, and the two of you turn to the field. Yuuji has the ball, kicking it through an opposing player’s legs. He runs forward, kicking the ball past the goalie and directly into the net.

The people around you rise and cheer, and you and Choso both jump to your feet along with them. You whistle using your thumb and pointer finger, your umbrella a forgotten memory on the ground. Choso chuckles beside you at your enthusiasm.

The other team gets the ball to kick off the next half, and you sit back down.

“Say, how did you know that Lord Geto was going to leave?” You ask curiously.

Choso blushes. Embarrassed, he tells the truth.

“I must confess, it was with… poor intentions. I may have given Kugisaki and Fushiguro some money to loosen the reins on his carriage.” He says bashfully.

You stare at him. He is not joking.

Breaking out into giggles, you try to stifle them with your glove. Choso, beside you, tries to hide a smile of his own from you.

“Are you serious?” You ask in between gasps.

“Quite.” He replies, amused.

You shove him gently, laughing.

“You are ridiculous, truly.” You smile.

He gazes upon you with a smile you have never quite seen on him before. You do not know what to make of it, but it makes butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach. You bite your lip and stare at your lap, trying to calm your own smile.

The two of you continue to chatter while Yuuji plays his game. For a moment, it is easy to forget all the tension and live in the moment. Yuuji continues to score two more goals for his team, bringing him to score three out of four goals his team achieved total.

The two of you meet up with Eso and Kechizu after the whistle blows and the game ends.

“Big sister! Big brother!” Yuuji yells, skipping over.

He jumps into your outstretched arms, and you laugh, swinging him around.

“I am so proud of you! You worked so hard today.” You tell him.

You turn to Choso, and he ruffles his hand through Yuuji’s hair.

“It was an eventful game. Well done, Yuuji.”

Yuuji positively beams.

You end up leaving with the Kamo brothers, ignoring the whispers that follow you while you go. Their opinion does not matter anyways.

—

You are aware that Lord Geto does not receive an invitation to the next ball of the season, and for one reason only.

The ball is at the Kamo estate.

You do not believe that there has ever been a ball at the Kamo estate, at least not in your lifetime. It brings much chatter among the Ton of what one of England’s most illustrious families’ house entails.

You, of course, are in attendance. You arrived early to help prepare, directing the maids on where to place things and making sure the cleaners reach certain spots they may have not before. You help them, carrying baskets of flowers around the estate.

The weather is beautiful, not too warm, just enough with the lightest breeze. The sun begins to set, and the guests are soon to arrive.

It is perfect. Nothing could go wrong with this ball, right?

Wrong. So very wrong.

You stand to the side with Lady Ieiri, chatting about the recent books you both have read, and her experience with medical training as of late. Lady Iori joins in as well, and you are rather enjoying the conversation with other women. You do not partake as often as you probably should.

The night has been going smoothly thus far, the initial novelty of being inside the Kamo estate wearing off after a few hours inside. The band is playing gentle dancing music, reflecting the personalities of the majority of the Kamo brothers.

“I heard about your engagement.” Lady Ieiri says.

Your life lately has been so good you’d nearly forgotten about it until she mentions it.

“No congratulations?” You tease.

“Not from me. Apologies, my lady, but I despise him.” Lady Iori states angrily.

“You are not the only one.” You reply.

“He was a dear friend to me once, but that was long ago. I do not see him changing his ways from back then anytime soon.” Lady Ieiri muses, taking a pull from her pipe.

“Me either. He is despicable, that man.”

“Why marry him then? Surely there were other options, no?” Lady Iori questions.

“It was arranged.”

The other women let out resounding noises of understanding.

“That is a shame. I apologize for the misfortune.” Lady Ieiri says genuinely.

“No need. I will figure out a way to be rid of this situation, to be sure.” You state.

“I wish you luck, then.” Lady Ieiri chuckles.

You hear a minor commotion coming from the hallway outside of the ballroom. It seems the other women heard as well, both of them turning their heads towards the sudden out of place noise.

The noise grows louder and louder, and unease rises up in your throat. You swiftly hand your drink to Lady Iori, headed towards the tension outside. In a strange way, you really hope it is nothing, and not for your sake.

There is a crowd forming in the hall near the exit, and you push through the herd of people gathered there.

“Excuse me- pardon, apologies, excuse me!” You say, pushing your way through.

The sight you are met with is not a good one.

Choso, disheveled and angrier than you have ever seen him, has Lord Geto, who was not supposed to even be here, on the ground. He holds him one-handed by the collar, landing repeated hits to his face. Lord Geto, clearly taken off guard by the attack, holds his arms up defensively.

“Cho- Lord Kamo! Get off of him!” You yell, attempting to grab his attention.

He either ignores you or just does not hear, as he continues to fight and wrestle with the Earl. You move closer, grabbing onto Choso, attempting to pull him off the other man.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?!” You shout, pulling with all your might.

He merely pushes you off, focused on one thing and one thing only.

Breaking Lord Geto’s face in.

Lord Nanami and Prince Gojo push through the crowd then, the latter’s jaw dropping at the scene in front of him. They both rush forward, grabbing one arm each, and yanking him away from the Earl.

“Get off of me!” Choso shouts, deep and gravelly.

“You fucking freak! How dare you lay hands on me?!” Lord Geto spits.

“I am the freak?! I am the freak?! You are a disgrace! Get off of my property before I call someone to have you removed!” He yells in return.

Choso still continues to struggle in the other men’s grasp, nearly breaking free until Nanami steps in.

“I lack context, but you need to calm down. Now.” Nanami hisses, taking into account the large number of eyes watching.

“Fuck that!” Choso barks.

You stagger backwards, feeling your heart slowly fall to your feet.

This is not happening right now. It cannot be. Eso breaks through the crowd then, going to speak to his brother. There are whispers all around you. Snide comments, shocked expressions.

Lord Geto is helped off the ground by a few of the men, blood trickling down his face from the multiple cuts scattered across.

“You are going to regret this, you fucking monkey.” He grits out.

He sees you then. His sneer only deepens. The second he takes a step towards you, you run.

You turn on your heel, pushing through the crowd, making your way outside through the back entrance. When you make it out, you dry heave, both from exertion and the stress of the situation. Tears roll down your face at the implications of what this means for you. For him.

A call of your name rings out from behind you.

“No, do not come near me!” You gasp, corset feeling much too tight.

Choso, to his credit, looks genuinely frazzled. He has a split lip from the altercation, blood smeared across his face and the back of his hand.

“Listen, I-”

“No! Do you have any idea of what you have just done?” You say, voice trembling.

“I know, I know, I am-”

“In what universe is it a splendid idea to get into a fist fight with my betrothed?! Please, explain that to me!” You angrily spit.

“He was speaking ill of you! I could not let him simply walk away from that!” Choso yells in return.

“You should have just let him! Once my parents catch wind of this situation, do you understand what will happen?! I will… “ You sob, body folding in half with the force of it, “I will never be allowed to speak to you or any of your brothers again!”

Choso paces, running his hands over his face.

“We will… we will figure something out.” He says, attempting to rationalize.

“Like what?! Enlighten me on how you are going to fix this, because you cannot! You should have just let him do whatever he wanted! Technically he is allowed to, according to the Ton, as he is my betrothed.”

“I do not regret it!” He shouts, pointing his finger in the direction of Geto, “You did not hear the positively disgusting things he was spouting!”

“Why do you care? You do not even like me. ”

“Wha- when did I-” He asks, outraged.

“After that night, you ignored me. It is obvious that you regret it, so spare me from your false explanations. I understand.”

He stares at you, a shocked expression on his face.

“You say you want to defend my honour, but who was the one who defiled it first, Choso? Is this some form of guilt for the other night?” You ask, defeated.

“No! I…” He trails off, words dying out.

You scoff, running a hand over your head, frustrated.

“Just leave me be.” You murmur.

You keep walking, headed back to your estate, where you can be alone. Choso watches you go, and does not move to stop you. He turns to go back inside.

You figured he would.

—

Choso walks into his office, running his hands over his face. Eso comes in fast behind him, slamming the door. The moment he turns around, he speaks.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Eso asks accusingly.

“I do not know, Eso. If I did, I would not be in this situation.” Choso replies, slamming his body into his chair.

The guests have long since left, the night ruined after the fight at the front entrance. People began to filter out rather quickly after that, whispering gossip in their wake.

“All you had to do was keep it together for one night, brother! One!”

“He was not supposed to be here.” Choso grumbles.

“I am very aware. It could have been handled civilly, like proper men. You could have asked him to leave even once!”

“You did not hear what he was saying, Eso.” Choso says, voice darkening.

“Then tell me, brother. Help me understand what is going through your head.”

“He was speaking of defiling her. About all the disgusting and filthy things he would do to her, whether she wanted them or not.” Choso grits out, as if the words pain him.

—

“-And he was hitting him, repeatedly.” You say, voice trembling.

Your maid, carrying a bucket of warm water, begins to wash you off in the tub. You struggle to choke down the persistent lump in your throat since the night’s earlier events.

“Is that not a good thing?” Your maid asks.

“... I cannot say I had no satisfaction in it.” You say, face hot.

“So what is the issue then, my lady?” She questions.

You sigh, watching the way the water ripples around your bare body.

“Once Mother finds out about this, if she has not already, she will forbid me from seeing the Kamos anymore. I will…” You sniffle, choking down your emotions, “... I will not see them.”

She hums, leaning your head back and running the water over your scalp.

“And that saddens you?”

“Yes.”

“That you will not be able to see all of them?” She asks.

You turn to her confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Is the duke included in that list?”

You pause, slowly turning back to face forward in the tub.

“I… I do not know.”

Suddenly you feel the urge to spill everything and anything to your maid. Everything that you have been keeping locked up, with no one to speak to about it.

And you do.

—

“I am not disagreeing with you that he deserved it, but why has it got you so worked up?” Eso questions.

“I could not allow someone who Yuuji cares about so deeply to be spoken of in such a way.” Choso states.

Eso stares at him dumbly. He then sits down, putting his head in his hands.

“You are impossible.” He mutters.

“God, Eso, what is your problem now?” Choso groans.

“You are trying to tell me that attacking him had nothing to do with how you feel about her?”

“I do not feel any way about her.”

“Nothing. You feel absolutely nothing. No hate, no affection, just absolutely void of any opinion? Eso asks, near deliriously.

Choso suddenly goes very, very quiet. Eso waits, tension suddenly building.

“... I need to tell you something.” Choso suddenly says.

Eso, who is already close to being at a breaking point, merely sighs.

“What is it?” He mutters, exasperated.

“... I…” Choso clears his throat, running a hand through his loosened hair, “... I dishonored her.”

Eso stares.

“Elaborate.”

Choso groans.

“Do not make me say it.”

“You are going to say it.”

“I… I kissed her. Also her neck. And maybe pressed against her.”

Eso stares once more.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

—

“He did what to you?!” Your maid asks, appalled.

“Do not make it sound so scandalous. We just… interlocked lips. That is it.” You reply.

“Good god.” Your maid murmurs, scrubbing your arms.

“It does not matter anyways. He regrets it. Apologized and said as much.” You say.

Your maid raises an eyebrow at you.

“And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Regret it?”

You open your mouth to speak your first instinct, which is yes, absolutely, but something makes you stop. Your hesitation speaks volumes more than your words, and your maid sighs.

“Oh, my dear.” She murmurs.

“No, I do. I do not even like him. He is stubborn, argumentative, and a pain in my arse. I cannot have a single conversation with him without some form of bickering. I hate him.” You say, suddenly irritated.

Your maid takes it in stride.

“I am sure.” She simply states.

—

“I do not know what came over me that night. I do not even like her. She drives me insane.” Choso gripes.

“Well, clearly you have to like her to some degree.” Eso says.

“No, I do not. It does not matter, it was a small mishap. I apologized to her, she accepted, and now we will go on with life.” He states with finality.

“Small? Small? This is monumental brother, and a serious issue. God, I wish you did not tell me, now I am wrapped up in this scheme as well.”

“You exaggerate. It is not a scheme.”

“You should have married her then and there.” Eso quips.

Choso barks out a laugh.

“Me and her? That’s hilarious. No, we have worked it out, and it will never be spoken of again. I doubt she will ever speak to me about anything ever again.”

“Because of her parents?”

“Because she despises me.”

Eso is going to lose it.

—

“I have not seen him so angry before.” You murmur, stepping out of the tub.

“The duke?” Your maid asks.

“Yes, but also Lord Geto. It was… frightening. I am finding it hard to adjust to the idea that I am marrying a man that I fear.” You confess.

Your maid brings a towel, drying you off.

“Sometimes, my lady, this is how things are for women in the Ton. Married off like cattle to whoever your elders choose. I know you are strong, though, and I am certain you will persevere.”

You nod softly, allowing her to drape the towel around you.

“He is a monster, that man. I dread the idea of spending the rest of my life with him. He told me that after we marry, he was going to move me far from the Ton. I will have no one.”

“I will be there with you every step of the way, my lady. He will not get rid of me. I will stay by your side.”

You smile, giving her a hug.

“Thank you.” You say earnestly.

“Of course…” She replies, trailing off.

You raise an eyebrow at her questioningly. She shifts back and forth.

“Nothing, just… thinking.”

“Mind sharing?” You ask.

“Have you ever thought about… marrying the duke instead?”

“Over my dead body.”

—

“So what now?” Eso asks his brother.

Choso rests his head in his hands, staring out the window. From his chair, he can see your estate.

“I do not know. It is likely that we will not see her for the foreseeable future. I must… explain to Yuuji.” Choso winces.

Eso hums, leaning back.

“That is unfortunate. I rather liked her.”

“Well, I am glad someone in this house does.”

“Brother.” Eso warns.

Choso sighs.

“Apologies. I am not myself lately.”

“I can tell. Everything you have told me tonight is… very unlike you, to say the least.” Eso replies.

Choso stares out the window once more. The trees sway, the moon bright in the sky. He comes to a decision, then.

“I think I will go speak to her.” Choso says.

Eso snorts, until he realizes that his older brother is in fact very serious.

“How do you reckon that will bode over well?” Eso asks.

“It will not. She’s hardly agreeable.”

Eso rolls his eyes.

“However,” Choso continues, “I feel guilty. I keep inserting myself into things that I should not, and it has had an effect on her life. As a gentleman, it is my duty to apologize. I do not know the next time I will be able to.”

“That is noble of you, brother. I wish you luck tomorrow.” Eso says, standing out of his chair.

“No, I think I will go right now.” Choso murmurs, shooting up.

“Now?! It’s the middle of the night!”

Eso stares dumbfounded at Choso as he walks out of the door, on a warpath to his neighbour’s estate.

“Brother!” He yells out.

He does not respond, already long gone. Exasperated, Eso pulls a bottle of scotch from the cabinet.

It is going to be a long night.

—

You sit in the chair of your vanity, naked, squeezing the last bit of dampness out of your hair with a rag.

You are glad to have had the conversation with your ladies maid. It was necessary, and you feel a weight lifted off your chest now that you know you are not dealing with this all alone anymore.

Taking your earrings out, you place them in a small dish on the top of your vanity. All your fine jewelry is laid out, sparkling under the low lamp light. You stand, walking over to the large window in your room. You can see the Kamo estate.

You sit on your ledge, body facing outside.

You wish to be there.

Life is easier when you are in that house. You do not have to think, nor worry about the life you are soon destined to live. You are just a girl there. The people in that house see you, truly. Well, all those except the duke.

Slightly chilled, you take a blanket and hold it to your chest.

It is then that you hear noise outside your bedroom.

It is hushed. Quiet, but carries the unmistakable back and forth of bickering. Who on earth is outside your door at this hour?

Before you can think deeply about it, the door is swung open, a body being pushed through.

“I said I am going, you witch-”

You pause, stunned into silence.

The duke stands at your door, looking from what is supposedly your ladies maid to your form.

Your very naked form.

You can see the gears turning in his head as he processes the situation, the door slamming shut behind him. A large blush breaks out across his face, and he immediately turns around. Your own face burns hot, rushing to cover up the rest of your body with the sheet.

“What the hell are you doing in here?!” You whisper yell.

“I apologize, I came by to apologize- and your maid, she led me here, I just assumed-” He stammers.

You groan, putting your head in your hands.

Of course she would pull something like this. That conniving, scheming woman.

“It is fine, my lord. Just… say whatever it is you came here to say so you may leave.” You say, gritting your teeth.

He stands, still staring at the door he entered from.

“... May I turn around?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment. You are covered up by a blanket. Nothing is on display. He has seen you in night attire before, and the blanket covers up more. It should be fine, right?

“You may.”

He obliges, turning to face you once more. A blush is still evidently dusted on his cheeks, yet he does not break eye contact.

“I wanted to apologize for my behaviour this evening. With some time to reflect, I feel it could have been handled more appropriately. I apologize.” He says.

He sounds earnest. He always does.

“It feels like all you do is apologize, my lord.” You tease.

He chuckles softly.

“I do not really feel like myself around you. I behave differently, less controlled. It is not very gentlemanly of me, and I apologize for that as well.” He concedes.

You hum.

“I accept your apology. Although the ones you really should be apologizing to are my parents. That is, if you do wish to see me around the estate.”

“So if I avoid them will you stop invading our house?” He grins.

You scoff, attempting to hide your own smile.

“No promises, my lord.” You reply.

The duke looks around your room for a moment, eyes landing on a book sitting on your bed. He walks over to it casually, picking it up and observing it.

“Antoine Lavoisier?” He asks, surprised.

“I am trying to expand my knowledge to fields other than philosophy as of late. I will admit, however, chemistry is still something that my mind struggles to comprehend.” You confess.

“It is certainly not an easy subject.” He muses, flipping through the pages.

“You know of it?” You ask.

He makes a noise of acknowledgement.

“In university. I was studying for my doctorate in biological sciences before my father passed.” He says wistfully.

“I did not know you had completed so much schooling.” You reply, mildly surprised.

“I would have completed more. I would have gone on forever, if I could. I love to learn, and I adore science even more. I just wish sometimes that I… had more time with it. Before all this business I must now handle.” He confesses to you.

Saddened, you stand from your seat on the ledge. Your feet tap on the floor as you walk over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“There are still opportunities. Lectures to attend, laboratories to visit. Perhaps you should ease off the business occasionally. It may do you some good.” You say.

He shakes his head.

“I cannot. My brothers need my support for their studying, not the other way around. It is a small sacrifice that I choose to make every day for them.” He states.

Your hand moves along his shoulder, brushing the loose hairs at the nape of his neck.

“You are rather selfless, my lord. Too selfless for your own good.” You murmur.

He turns to glance at you then, giving your figure a slow once over. You look up at him, his face illuminated by the yellow candle in the corner.

Your blanket had shifted when you stood, exposing the length of your collar bone. His eyes focus on it, an expression falling upon his face that you have only seen once before.

That night.

“My lord?” You whisper.

He closes the book in his hands, amber eyes gazing upon your face. You can feel the way his chest rises and falls, the hand on his skin suddenly feeling too warm.

“Choso. It is always Choso to you.” He murmurs softly.

Your breathing picks up, hitches in the back of your throat. You can feel your heart begin to pump quicker. It makes your chest shudder with the weight of it. He puts the book down carefully on the bed, turning to you.

His hand reaches out to brush your face, and he hesitates. Begins to pull his hand back before you grab it, placing his hand on your cheek. You nuzzle into it, reveling in the warmth of his bare skin.

His hand traces downwards, and you lead it lower, lower, until his fingers are grazing the front of the blanket. He is a simple finger flick away from opening the blanket, exposing you to him.

“I cannot do this to you again.” He breathes, voice conflicted.

“Then do not.” You reply.

He does not move away. His hand lands on your bare chest, feeling your heartbeat underneath your ribcage. He places his forehead against your own, his eyebrows pulled tight. Like he is desperately trying to resist temptation. Your lips brush against his, softly, barely a whisper of a touch.

“Choso…”

A loud knock on the door breaks you out of your reverie. Your father calls out your name, and panic seeps into your very core.

You curse, looking around, trying to find somewhere to hide the duke. He looks as well, appearing just as panicked as you are. You think about under the bed, but it’s too visible. Your closet is too full. You then realize another way.

The window.

You run over to it, opening it up. There are vines that work their way up your house, close to your window. The perfect escape.

“Here!” You whisper.

He turns to you, gobsmacked when he sees what you are implying.

“Are you crazy?!” He whispers back.

Your father calls out your name once more, and that seems to move him into action. He crouches, exiting your room through the window. You watch him climb down the vines, only looking away when he reaches the bottom.

You throw on a nightgown, running to the door, and opening it for your father.

“Father.” You greet, trying to hide your sweating.

“We need to speak.” He says sternly.

You know exactly what the conversation is about, and it happens to be the man who just left your bedroom in a panic.

How could this happen again?

Chapter Text

You were on your back, plush pillows and blankets laid out around you. He runs his hands up the expanse of your bare stomach, feeling every soft ridge and line. You moan softly, arching into his touch.

You keen in anticipation. You had squirmed and begged while he ate your pussy, and now he was finally going to give you what you were asking for.

“Choso… please.” You whine.

“Please what, my love?” He murmurs.

Embarrassed, you turn away from him. He reaches down in between your legs, rubbing the little nub at the top of your soaked pussy. You gasp, body shaking at the unexpected touch. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, completely focused on touching you, on making you feel good.

“Choso, please! Put it inside me.” You cry out.

He smiles lazily, moving up to line himself up with your waiting hole. You try to move your body upwards to meet his hips, to force him inside you. He chuckles, pushing you down with one hand over your stomach. He runs his sensitive tip along your wet folds, moaning at the contact. Then, he pushes himself in-

Choso jolts awake.

He hastily sits up in bed, sweat already dripping down his bare back. He’s panting, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. The curtains are still drawn shut in his room, darkness seeping into every corner.

He lifts up the covers to find his inevitable worst case scenario. He is rock hard, erection straining through his now sticky night attire.

He curses, sitting with his head in his hands.

He really, really hates you.

—

“Big brother!”

His brothers are all sitting in the tea room, waiting for him. Choso walks in, adjusting his cravat.

“Eso. Kechizu. Yuuji.” He greets.

“You are up awfully late, brother.” Eso points out.

Choso flushes, letting out an uncomfortable cough.

“I… slept in. I apologize for keeping you waiting.” Choso says.

“You slept in?” Kechizu questions, confused.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, it is just…” Kechizu begins.

“You never sleep in, big brother! You must have been sleeping really well.” Yuuji chirps.

Choso rubs the back of his neck.

“Something like that.”

While Yuuji and Kechizu continue their conversation, Eso stares at him. Choso silently curses him for always knowing when something is off.

“Is something the matter, brother?” Eso asks.

“No. Why do you ask?” Choso replies, playing it off.

“Yuuji is right. Sleeping in is rare for you. Did something happen last night?”

It is a pointed question. They did not speak last night about the events that happened at your estate. Choso has yet to admit to anyone, including himself, that he almost lost control once more.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” He decides on.

Eso hums, clearly unconvinced. Eso gives his brother a look that says ‘we will talk about this at a later date’.

Choso sighs.

“Yuuji. We must continue your tutoring.” He says, changing the subject.

“Sure thing, big brother!” Yuuji stands, making his way over to the table in the middle of the room.

The two sit, Choso aiding him with his homework. He’s noticed that lately, his younger brother has been getting better with studying. It fills him with pride.

However, the longer Choso sits down to speak with his youngest brother, the more he notices something is off about him. Of course he can, he always knows when something is wrong with his brothers. It’s his duty.

“Yuuji? Is something the matter?” He asks.

The younger boy purses his lips. He looks like he’s deciding on whether or not to speak his mind. Choso waits patiently.

“Is it true? About big sister.” He murmurs.

“Is what true?” Choso knows what he’s talking about.

“Kechizu told me about last night.” Yuuji replies.

Choso sighs, prepared to explain himself once more to another one of his brothers.

“Yuuji, Lord Geto is-”

“He deserved it. I do not care about that. What I care about is whether or not we’re ever going to see her again.”

Choso cannot see his face, but he knows what he’s feeling. It’s what the rest of his brothers are feeling as well. Confusion, unease, distress in some cases. He suddenly feels very, very guilty for putting his brothers through what he has.

In moments like this, he normally knows how to ease their minds. As of right now, it feels like somebody’s boot is in his mouth, rendering him unable to speak.

For a brief moment, he thinks about what you would say to Yuuji. He lets it guide him.

“I apologize, Yuuji. I do not know. Perhaps we will see her in public, or catch her without the watchful eye of her parents. Fear not, I will fix this. Last night will not be the last time you ever speak to her.” Choso says with certainty.

Yuuji thinks about his words, then nods softly.

“I trust you, big brother.”

He goes back to his work, like his words did not completely gut Choso. He trusts him? Yuuji has never said anything like that to him before.

He really has to figure this out. For their sake.

And possibly his own.

—

“-Then, last night, the duke assaulted him. If I am being honest, I found great satisfaction in the sight. I hate Lord Geto, Miwa. He makes me wish I could disappear forever, never to be seen again.”

Miwa, not expecting the sudden onslaught of information she just received about your fiance, is rendered speechless.

Until this moment, you have provided her, and everyone, the belief that things were good between you and your betrothed. Once you sat down for tea, you could not hold it back anymore, unleashing a torrent of backstory on your fiance and how despicable he was.

“I do not know what to do, Miwa. I am lost. My worst fear is marrying him, and every day I get closer and closer to my nightmare coming to reality.”

“I… that is… a lot. I had no idea. I am so sorry for your unfortunate situation.” Miwa says.

You nod, too overcome to say anything more. You take a sip of your tea which has already gone cold during your extensive conversation.

“I am sure there is something you can do to get rid of him.” Miwa states, pondering.

“I have tried everything. My parents are unwavering in their stance. They want me to marry him.” You say, defeated. “I am starting to think that I may have to marry him after all.”

She hums softly, compassionately.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, thinking of what to do.

“What if…” She murmurs.

You look up at her.

“Your parents care about appearances, right? ‘Tis why they want you to marry him in the first place. Title. What if you made him look bad in front of them? Gave them a reason to not want him betrothed to you any longer?” She says, perking up.

“But how? I have nothing on him, nothing that my parents do not already know.” You reply.

She thinks about it for a moment, brows scrunched up in thought.

“We will find something. I will have Kokichi ask around and speak to him directly. Perhaps as a man, he will discover something that we cannot. I will talk to my maids, they will dig deeper as well.” Miwa declares, suddenly serious.

She takes your hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Do not worry. We will get you out of this.”

You stare at her for a moment. You feel the burn in your eyes, an onslaught of tears about to make their way down the apples of your cheeks.

You think about freedom. What it would be like to be free from his shackles. To be in the arms of someone else, truly happy. Someone actually kind, intelligent, exciting. Someone like-

You pause. With great effort, you scrub the image of pigtails and amber eyes from your brain.

“Thank you, Miwa. I am so very grateful to have you by my side.” You tell her.

She beams.

“Of course. What else are friends for?”

—

A few days later, you prepare for a dinner with Lord Geto and your parents.

You choose your own dress and jewelry. You decide on a navy blue gown.

It’s a little piece of strength during what is bound to be a difficult night. Blue, the colour of calmness, loyalty, and security. Blue, as your own form of resistance.

After all, it is another man’s favourite colour. You hold it close to your heart. A little piece of the Kamo’s with you tonight, since you are so far apart.

You walk down the hallways, staring straight ahead. The maids have just brought it to your attention that Lord Geto has arrived.

You hear him before you see him.

He is in the dining room with your family, chatting and laughing with them. You enter the room, smiling.

“Mother. Father. Lord Geto.” You greet with a small bow.

“Oh, dear, you look ravishing tonight! This surely is your colour. Do you not agree, Lord Geto?” She asks with a faux smile.

You turn to him, and a grin stretches over his face.

“Indeed.” He simply states.

He stands, approaching you like a cat ready to pounce. He lifts your hand, kissing the back of it gently.

“My lady.” He murmurs.

You ignore him, walking to your chair. You wait for him to pull it out for you, and only take your seat when he does. He circles around, sitting across from you.

“My dear, we were just speaking about your upcoming nuptials! I was thinking of classic red and white as the theme. What do you think? If you like it, I will have the flowers ordered immediately.”

You smile at her.

“Of course, Mother. That sounds delightful.”

She squeals, positively elated for you to be on board with her plans.

“I knew it! Oh, darling, I knew we made the right decision with her and Lord Geto.” She chirps, turning to Lord Geto, “Are you excited as well?”

“Very.” He chuckles, “Your daughter is one of a kind. I truly cannot wait to have her by my side forever.”

The last bit is pointed. He’s mocking you. You smile at him. You are not afraid any longer. Miwa’s husband uncovered some very interesting information for you, and you intend to use it to your advantage.

“Why thank you, Lord Geto. That is very kind.” You reply.

“He truly is the kindest. I can think of no other person so charming! Is that not right, darling?” She exclaims, taking a long sip of wine.

Your father grunts in response, more focused on when the food will be arriving.

“Anyways, I heard that you are to be travelling again soon, Lord Geto. Your travels amaze me! Tell me more about your voyage to Africa.” Your mother says.

He obliges, telling her grand tales of white horses with black stripes and animals with necks doubly as long as their body. You pick at your gloves, waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

The food comes, and you silently thank god for the distraction. At least you will hear his voice no more.

“But indeed, I do hope to make some discoveries on my next voyage to Asia. Your daughter will surely report our findings to you.” He grins.

Your mother laughs joyfully. Loudly and overbearing. Your father ignores her, choosing to instead focus on the steak in front of him.

“Lord Geto, you are truly fantastic. I am sure I will hear much about it in Lady Whistledown.” She says, amused.

“Lady Whistledown does not report on everything from Lord Geto, so I would not get your hopes up.” You murmur.

“Whatever do you mean, dear?” Your mother asks, confused.

You turn to Lord Geto. You can see the confusion etched on his features. You revel in it. You carefully watch each change in his face before you say your next words.

“Oh, I apologize, Mother. You did not hear through the grapevine? I have been hearing much of it lately.” You ask, feigning ignorance.

“Hear what?” She asks, becoming agitated with being left out of the loop.

“The fact that Lord Geto used to lay with men.”

The table becomes so silent you could hear a pin hit the ground.

It is a low blow. You personally have no issue with those who partake in those of the same sex, but you know the Ton does, and especially your parents. Lord Geto’s face drops. You can tell. Everyone at the table can tell by his reaction alone.

It was not a simple lie.

“Lord Geto?” Your father sternly asks for an explanation.

He gapes for a moment, mouth opening and closing like the fish you used to catch when you were a child.

It makes you grin.

“I… I do not…” He stammers.

“Stop stuttering, boy. Is it true or not?” Your father says.

Your mother quietly watches, fuming.

He stares at you then. Your parents cannot see it, but you have known him long enough to recognize it. That simmering rage that he is usually so good at hiding is on full display. The mask has been lifted.

He takes a shaky breath.

“Unfortunately, it is true. I… I was a rebellious teenager. My parents hated nothing more than homosexuals, and I decided to use that to my advantage. I did not particularly enjoy it. It is a thing of the far past.” He says through gritted teeth.

Not quite what you heard. You heard that he got thoroughly fucked by men and very much enjoyed it. But, alas, the sneaky rat will do what he does best.

Lie.

“Who was speaking about this?” Your mother asks you.

“Some ladies I was in cahoots with at the park. Lady Nishimiya and Lady Mai Zen’in, in particular. Although I am not sure who they heard it from, who knows?” You chirp.

Your father angrily pushes his plate off the table, the ceramic shattering on the floor. You flinch.

“Hell! This is bloody ridiculous. How long have you known about this, you brat?” He asks.

You feign ignorance, giving him a confused frown.

“You did not know? I was under the assumption that everyone knew. It is quite the prolific rumour.” You tell him.

Your parents look positively scandalized, and it fills you with an unusual amount of glee.

Lord Geto, however, looks like he wants to jump over the table and personally strangle you with his own two hands.

“I assure you, it is not as grand as she is making it sound. Let us-”

“I believe you should take your leave for the night, Lord Geto.” Your mother spits.

He pauses, shocked.

You smile.

Lord Geto stands slowly, giving a small bow and making his way out of the room. He does not leave without throwing you a nasty glare on the way out. You hold your head high. You are the one victorious this time.

The door shuts behind him, and silence falls over the rest of you at the table.

“Well… I do believe it is time for dessert.” You grin.

—

You wake up the next morning, refreshed and ready for the day.

You have a stupid smile on your face the whole morning, despite your parents’ bad mood. You skip along the halls, heels clacking off the marble.

You paint. You read. You partake in some baking.

Everything is blissfully perfect.

Well, almost everything. As you paint outside, you catch yourself staring at the Kamo estate more often than not. You wish to speak to them. Desperately.

You did not realize how lonely you would be when they are removed from your life. Their absence leaves a hollow pit in your stomach, unfilled by anything except for their presence. You wish to paint with Yuuji, drink with Eso, have conversation with Kechizu.

You wish to see the duke. Among other things you wish to do with him.

You shake your head, face feeling hot.

You would be lying if you said you had not been thinking of the last time you saw him. How close he was, so close that he was almost able to take off the sheet and reveal your bare form to him. If your father had not interrupted, you wonder if he would have.

You wanted him to.

You are not particularly privy to all things… sex. You are aware of the general concept, your maid made sure of that. However, if it feels anything like the night where he kissed you for the first time, you decidedly would not be opposed.

You debate about it, but you end up deciding to write a letter. You write to the duke, explaining the situation, and how things are looking up. You write a short note for the younger brothers as well, not wanting to leave them out.

Smiling, and covered in ink, you close up the letter.

You give it to your maid, trusting that she will have it delivered despite what your parents may feel for the Kamos.

You look out the window to their estate once more.

Soon, you hope.

—

“Tell me all about it.”

You have tea with Miwa once more the next day, and she is more than eager to hear about how your dinner with Lord Geto went.

“Oh, Miwa, it could not have been better. Once I revealed the information your husband provided, my parents were positively livid. I do think that they are starting to be swayed.” You tell her with a big smile.

“Excellent! I am glad it all went to plan.” She says.

You hum, pouring a little more sugar in your tea.

“I have another idea.” Miwa suddenly speaks up.

“What is it?” You ask curiously.

“While I do think it is working, I do not think it is enough. We should put the final nail in the coffin, so to speak.” She replies.

You chuckle, surprised. You were not expecting Miwa to have such a devious side.

“Alright, tell me. What is your ingenious idea?”

“We use the ultimate gossip mongerer to really give your parents a scare. To make them truly care about their image so much that they must cancel the wedding.” She says.

“Lady Whistledown?” You ask, surprised.

“Indeed. We can use her to our advantage. If we start spreading the rumor around, no doubt she will write about such a blasphemous affair.” Miwa states proudly.

You laugh.

“Miwa! You are a genius. I will get right on spreading that. Will you help me out with that as well?” You reply.

“Of course! I will immediately go tell all my friends right after this.” She chirps.

You grin, suddenly very excited at the prospect of being free.

“I do not know what I would do without you.” You tell her honestly.

“Do not thank me just yet. Let us complete the plan first.” Miwa smiles.

You lean back in your chair, sighing deeply.

“Ah, freedom, I can see it already.” You say.

“What is the first thing you are going to do with your newfound freedom?” She asks.

You hum.

“Probably speak with the Kamos.” You confess.

“The Kamos?” Miwa parrots.

“Yes. After the little mishap at the Kamo estate last week my parents have barred me from speaking to them any longer. I just wish to see them again.” You tell her.

“Ah, yes, I heard about that. I did not realize their tussle was about you, though.”

“Allegedly, the Earl was saying some unkind and vile words about me. The duke decided to step in. Admittedly, I am still a little peeved about that. I wish he would have spoken to me first before taking action.” You say, pouring more tea.

“You must be close.” Miwa states.

“To the duke? Not particularly.”

Miwa tilts her head, confused.

“You just said he defended your honour. Surely that is a sign of closeness, is it not?”

You choose to omit the fact that he was also the one that dishonoured you.

“He is just… a nuisance. He irritates me to no end, we cannot even have a conversation without some sort of bickering. I dislike him so.” You say.

“There has to be something about him you like for you to stick around so long.” She asks, amused.

“His brothers. But I do suppose that he has some admirable traits. He is loyal to a fault. He is generous, extremely so, and intelligent. Did you know he was studying for a doctorate before his father passed? It is fascinating. We must discuss more about science next time I see him, for I have read much more of the chemistry book in my collection.” You say.

Miwa stares.

“But you… do not like him?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Miwa analyzes your face to see if you jest. You are not. She then smiles at you as if she knows something you do not.

“Right. Interesting indeed.” She murmurs.

“But alas, with your plan, Miwa, I hope to see his brothers soon. I am sure things will work out.”

“I am sure.”

The two of you clink your teacups together, unified.

—

Choso sits at his desk, catching up on a mountain of paperwork that he has been avoiding. He has managed to make his way through most of it, the words starting to blur on the paper. At this point, he is just signing without looking.

He hears a knock at his office door.

“Come in.” He says, still looking down.

The door opens, and Choso briefly looks up.

Eso.

“You have been avoiding me.” Eso states.

“I have not.” Choso replies.

“You have.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Yes, no.”

Eso scoffs, going to pour himself a glass of whiskey from the cabinet.

“That is supposed to be for guests, you know. ‘Tis the highest quality liquor we have.” Choso deadpans.

“I do not really care. We do not have guests anyways.” Eso replies, taking a swig.

Choso sighs, going back to his paperwork.

“Talk to me, brother. What happened with her that has you so distracted lately?” Eso asks.

“It is nothing, Eso. You are making a big fuss about something so small.”

“So something did happen?”

Choso, suddenly feeling like strangling his brother, glares at Eso.

“No.”

“You keep saying no, brother, but I do not believe you.”

Choso rests his head in his hands, debating if he is going to tell Eso he nearly messed up again, ruining his reputation as the calm, level headed older brother.

“She accepted the apology.” Choso simply says.

“That is it? Truly?” Eso questions suspiciously.

“Yes. She accepted the apology, we talked about science, then I came home.”

“And no… dishonouring, this time, then?”

Choso thinks about his answer. It takes a moment too long.

“Brother, I swear to god.”

“No. There was no dishonouring. That is the truth.” Choso says.

“You expect me to believe that after the pause you just made?” Eso asks incredulously.

“Yes. I expect you to believe me when I tell you the honest truth.” Choso replies.

That seems to silence Eso. He sighs, taking a seat.

“Well, then, I suppose there is nothing else for me to say.” He says.

“Indeed there is not.”

The two ruminate in silence for a few minutes, Eso nursing his drink and Choso’s pen dancing across paper. Choso ignores the way that Eso occasionally looks over, as if he is trying to decipher some hidden code.

Another knock at Choso’s office door.

“For the love of god, who is it now?” He grumbles.

The door opens, and one of the maids walks in.

“My lord.” She bows slightly, “I have a letter.”

“A letter? From who?” Choso asks, confused. “I was not expecting anything today.”

“It is from next door.”

Choso stands up from his chair, darting across the room to grab the letter from her. Eso snorts, waving the maid away. She leaves, shutting the door behind her.

“You are rather excited, brother.”

“Shut up.”

Eso stands, taking a look at the enclosed envelope in his brother’s hands. Choso does not know why his brother is staring at him so, grabbing a letter opener.

Eso, really, is watching the stupid smile that came onto his brother’s face when he heard there was a letter from you.

—

You have a visitor.

You happily tap your feet as you walk to the front foyer, humming as you go. The letter to the duke must have arrived, and now he is here to speak with you. Something you have been waiting on for many days.

You swiftly make your way down the stairs, glancing up at the bottom of the steps.

“My lord-”

You pause when you realize, it is in fact, not the duke at your doorstep.

“Betrothed.” Lord Geto spits venomously.

You sigh, not willing to have this conversation right now.

“What do you want, Lord Geto?” You ask, rolling your eyes.

“What, I cannot come visit my future wife?” He replies.

You scoff.

“You really believe this farce will last much longer? That truly is comedic, my lord.” You seethe.

“Do not be such a brat, my lady, it is unbecoming.” He chirps.

Anger bubbles in your chest. You slowly walk closer to him, pointing a finger accusingly.

“How dare you, Lord Geto? A brat? What the hell has gotten into you lately? You dare call me a brat in my own home? I should have you kicked out immediately.”

You turn to call your maid, to have him removed. A hand around your wrist pauses you. You try to remove it, tugging harshly, but he grips you hard enough to bruise.

“I will not be here for long. I just came here to do this.” He says simply.

“To do what? Grab my-”

You are cut off by lips meeting your own.

Time seems to slow. Your first immediate thought is that this is wrong. So very wrong. It is followed by a fierce sense of disgust that rattles you to your very core.

You fight back. You try to pull away, pushing your free hand anywhere you can reach. His neck, his chest. You attempt to claw at his eyes, and he simply grips your face.

You lean back, your body being stopped by the table behind you.

This is wrong. You need to do something. You need to move.

His tongue makes its way into your closed mouth, and you cry out, the sound muffled by his mouth against your own. You hit him. You smack him, throw your fist at him repeatedly. It does not matter. He is too tall, too strong.

Your eyes begin to sting.

Geto pulls away, a string of saliva still connected between the two of you.

“There. Was that so bad?” He asks, a vile grin on his face.

You stand there, stupified, staring at him with wide eyes. Your body trembles.

“I am going to tell my parents what you have done, you perverted freak!” You spit at him, finally ripping your arm out of his grip.

He simply laughs, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“You can. It will not free you from me, though.” He states.

You pause, voice shaking.

“What do you mean?”

He hums, stepping backwards.

“It means, my dear, that you have been dishonoured. If you let them know, you’ll be bound to me forever. After all, what other man would ever want a dishonoured woman?” He smiles.

The realization that he is right hits you all at once. You fall to your knees, dread seeping into every one of your bones.

If you tell them, they will force you to marry him with some old fashioned belief that a woman dishonoured is a woman to be married. If you say nothing, you are submitting to him, and there is still the possibility that your parents will continue the engagement.

You are trapped. He has gained the upper hand once more.

“What… why have you done this?” You ask, voice quiet.

He crouches, meeting you at eye level.

“Because you could not just be silent. You had to try and ruin me. I will not let you get away with it.” He murmurs.

He stands back to his full height, headed towards the door. With a wave over his shoulder, he leaves you with one final message.

“See you at the wedding, my love.”

—

Choso opens the letter with his knife, pulling out the contents. He smiles softly at the curvature of your writing, the neatness of the letters.

Eso has long left, Choso insisting that he read the letter alone.

Thus, he begins:

My lord,

I would like to update you on the current state of things. My dearest friend has provided me some excellent insight on how to be rid of the situation I am in. The plans are already coming into effect, and I have high hopes for the best outcome. The first step has already been taken, and everything has gone swimmingly. Perhaps soon, we will be able to meet once more.

Your brothers promised me a game of pall-mall, and I intend to take them up on their offer. I would like it to be the first thing done, matter of factly. Let your younger brothers know that I will not take it easy on them, and I would hope for the same in return. This especially applies to you, my lord.

I would not have been able to do this without the continued support of you and your family. Of course, I am still barred from speaking to you, and I knew this letter would be the only way to reach you. I want to thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your family has been a great blessing to me, and I thank my lucky stars every day to have met such an amazing group of people. Thank you, Choso, for everything.

We shall meet in person soon enough.

Kindest regards,
The girl next door

Chapter Text

-seems the Earl of York has been up to some nefarious activities. The rumour being passed among the Ton is that Suguru Geto has been laying with men. How scandalous indeed! One can only wish for the best for his poor bride-to-be, as she must be devastated by this news during their happy engagement.

There was much to be heard of this week, but this author has a feeling that as the season progresses, more juicy gossip will arise to the surface.

As always, yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

—

You’ve been missing for days.

Choso has not seen you, which is quite odd, considering the optimism in the letter you wrote to him not even a week prior. At first, he considered that you may just be in the process of getting rid of Lord Geto. That was null, seeing the most recent publishing of Whistledown. He then thought that perhaps you have not convinced your parents to allow you to see him- them, yet.

So, as he usually does, Choso takes matters into his own hands.

He visits your estate, sometimes multiple times a day, to attempt to see you. Usually Yuuji or Eso come with him, occasionally not. The result is the same either way. Someone in the household bars him, whether it be the maids or your parents.

It fills him with an uncomfortable feeling that something else may be going on.

This time, Choso rings the bell once more, alone, and he waits. The door creaks open, revealing your ladies maid, one person he has yet to see answer the door.

“Hina.” He greets.

“Duke Kamo. To what do we owe the pleasure?” She responds with a small bow.

“I wish to see her.” Choso says, getting straight to the point.

Her face scrunches up, discomfort obvious. It is only for a moment, but it is enough.

“Hina. Something else is going on, is there not?” He prods.

She pauses, looking over her shoulder to see if there is anyone around to listen. When she deems it safe, she turns back around.

“Humbly, I must ask for your help, my lord. The lady is… depressed.” She whispers the last part.

“Depressed?” He asks.

“Indeed. She will not eat, she will not leave her bed, not even to bathe. It is almost like she ceased to exist any longer. I have tried to help her, but she does not want it.” Hina says mournfully.

Choso stares at her for a moment, confused. How could this happen? Days prior you were gleefully looking forward to the future. What caused this sudden change? Questions run rampant through his head, and he struggles to make sense of any of it.

“How did this happen? What caused it?” Choso asks, trying to find a solution.

Hina’s lips make a fine line.

“Hina. What happened?” He repeats.

“It is not my place to say. As far as I know, I am the only other person who knows what happened. You must speak to the lady herself to understand.”

Worry. That is the main and first emotion that Choso can place. He nods thoughtfully.

“Alright. Take me to her.” He says seriously.

“You will have to be very quiet, my lord. Her parents have forbidden you from entering, but I will take you.” She murmurs.

He gestures for her to walk, and she does. The pair walk quietly, footsteps barely audible in the echo of the hallway. The closer he gets, the more uneasy he feels. The more worried he gets.

“Hina! Is that you, dear?” Your mother’s voice calls out.

Your maid quickly glances behind him, and turns to Choso frantically.

“Go. I will distract her mother. I trust you know how to get there?” She asks.

He nods, and the two separate, going in opposite directions.

He has the way to your room memorized at this point. He has dreamt of the situations that happened there so many times that the route is ingrained in his brain. A left, a right, and then the first door on the left.

He pauses before opening the door. Should he knock? Footsteps approaching him make the decision for him, and he enters the room.

It is where he finds you, sitting like a lump under your covers.

—

Nothing.

It is all you have felt for days. Pure and utter nothingness.

You have barely left your bed, only getting up to use the bathroom. You cannot find the motivation to do anything else. Anything that once brought you joy now just fills you with dread. Your room is safe. Nothing can touch you there.

So you hide under the covers, staring out the window. It is all you fill your day with, from morning to night.

One evening, your mother enters.

You can tell it is her from the way her heels clack off the marble. She sits beside you, creating a divot in the bedsheets. She sits in silence for a moment. You do not greet her.

“Lady Whistledown arrived this morning.” She says simply.

You know what that means. Miwa has certainly done her job, and she did it well. It took a mere few days for Whistledown to catch onto the rumours Miwa spread about Lord Geto.

You cannot even think of his name without feeling nauseous.

You continue to lay in silence.

She sighs, placing a hand over the sheets that drape over your form.

“I am sorry. For the way things have turned out. It is not easy to be faced with such scandal from the Ton.”

Your eyes flick to her for a moment, and you are genuinely surprised to see that she seems completely genuine. No mockery, no power trip, just empathy.

You nod, looking back towards the window.

“It is time to get out of bed, dear. You must face this eventually. People are beginning to talk.” She states.

You snort softly, realizing what this is truly about. Reputation. The more you appear unbothered, the less people will talk. If only she knew what you were really avoiding.

When you continue your silent solitude, she says nothing. She merely stands up, walking out the door and closing it behind her.

In her own way, you think that perhaps she cares. That this is the only way she knows how to show it. It does not make you feel any better.

The next day is equally as torturous. Your maid spoon feeds you forcefully, making you eat broth that the chefs carefully prepared. You gaze out the window passively, watching the trees blow in the wind. Everything is quiet.

Until your door opens.

You resist the urge to sigh. You hope that by staying quiet enough, your mother may leave you alone. She does not, only standing still by the entryway.

“I wish to be alone.” You murmur, voice rough from unuse.

Your thoughts halt when the footsteps on the floor do not sound like your mother’s. You peek your head out, eyes widening.

“Duke Kamo?” You whisper.

He sits on the edge of the bed, concern etched onto his features. You suddenly feel very embarrassed of your current state. Unbathed, not fed, and dark circles under your eyes.

He ignores all of that, placing a hand on your cheek.

“What is going on?” He murmurs softly.

Everything overflows all at once. It starts with one tear, two, then three, then gut wrenching sobs that wrack your entire body. He lifts your upper body into an embrace, holding you close while you wail into his coat.

He rocks you back and forth, shushing gently. The duke’s hand caresses the back of your head soothingly, your face buried in his shoulder. His scent is comfort. That spice and woodiness that you have become so familiar with invades your senses, calming you greatly.

The two of you stay like that for an incomprehensible amount of time. Your screams eventually fade into sniffles, and he holds you through all of it. Your eyes burn, and you can already feel the puffiness forming around your eyes.

“Talk to me.” He whispers in your ear.

You pull back, wiping away your snot. He raises his hand, rubbing the tears off your face. When you finally feel presentable, thinking about it all over again makes you want to continue crying. A tear slips down, and he wipes that away too.

You place your forehead against his. His breathing is slow, steady. You try to match it.

“He forced himself upon me.” You choke out, voice trembling.

The duke immediately goes stiff. You can nearly hear the sound of his molars grinding together, but he waits for you to continue speaking patiently.

“He kissed me. I tried to push him away but I… I was not strong enough.” You take a deep, shuddered breath, “He told me it was because I would not stay quiet. Because I was trying to ruin his reputation.”

Your bottom lip trembles once more, but before you can cry, the duke cups your face with his hands, staring you directly in the eyes.

“It is not your fault. Never will be.” He says.

It is the first time you are looking at him since you confessed. He looks angry, so very upset that it makes your heart hurt. You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find the words to calm him, despite your own heartbreak.

“I…”

“I am sorry. I am so sorry I was not there to…” He inhales deeply. “I will kill him. I will publicly challenge him to a duel for your honour today. I will put an end to this.”

You immediately jump up, shaking your head.

“No! Do not. I do not want to see you hurt, it would kill me.” You tell him, leaning into his hands.

“It would not be me who is hurt.” He replies.

“I do not care! If there is even a possibility you could be hurt because of me…” A wave of nausea overcomes you at the thought, and you halt your words.

He hesitates, before nodding carefully.

“If that is what you wish.” He states.

You sigh in relief, glad that the idea of a duel is rid from his mind. You lay back down in your bed, utterly exhausted from your display of emotion.

“What can I do?” He breathes. “Tell me how to help you.”

You shake your head. You reach out your hand. He takes it.

“I just need you here. That is enough.” You whisper.

He nods, holding your hand tighter. A show that he is there, that he is not going anywhere.

“How are the boys?” You murmur softly.

“They miss you.” He says. “I have been barely holding them back from storming your estate thus far.”

You chuckle, your first genuine laugh in what seems like a long time.

“I miss them too.”

He stays for a while. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you just sit in the tranquility of the room. But he is there, an unshakable presence beside you. A comfort. A home that you did not realize was there.

“Come outside with us tomorrow.” He says.

“I cannot.” You reply tiredly. “I am not capable.”

“You are. I know you are strong enough.” He chides, running his thumb along your knuckles.

You sigh, squishing your face into your pillow. You think about it for a moment. Maybe it would be good for you to get some air. You will not have to tell your mother anything, she will just be happy that you are out of bed. You know what you are going to do.

“Alright. I will come.”

—

It feels odd being dressed again.

Your corset is tied, dress pulled over your head. You have some soft makeup done, and when you look in the mirror, you almost look presentable. No one else will know, but the dark circles under your eyes are still present. Still a reminder. Your maid gives you sad looks every now and again.

You walk to the tea room, where your parents are no doubt residing for their morning crumpets and tea. You enter the double doors. They both turn to look at you, surprised by your presence.

“My dear! You are out of bed? How wonderful.” She says.

“I am. I figure I need some air after the long rest I have had. May I go out for a walk amongst the Ton? Hina shall come with me.” You reply, getting straight to the point.

“I do not know if that is a good idea.” Your father states sternly.

“Oh, nonsense.” She scoffs. “Go, my dear. Enjoy your walk.”

The knowing look she gives you before you leave makes you uneasy, but you brush it off.

When you step out of the front doors, you squint at the brightness of the sun on your face. It is much too strong after all the time you have spent in the darkness of your room.

Beginning your journey, you walk to the park where the duke said he would meet you. You notice almost immediately the way people are whispering when they see you. It is no doubt due to the Whistledown publication a few days prior.

You try to ignore it, but seeing everyone talk is a reminder of Lord Geto. A recurring nightmare that cannot escape you even for a moment.

Even when he is not there, he still manages to ruin your life.

You arrive at the park, and you immediately spot the duke and Yuuji. Yuuji waves wildly, before running over to you and entrapping you in a massive hug.

“Big sister! I missed you so much. Choso said you were feeling unwell. Are you better now?” He asks.

You force a smile, ruffling his hair.

“Much, Yuuji. It is good to see you.”

You glance at the setup in front of you. They occupied one of the tables in the park, painting supplies and canvases littered about. You look up, meeting eyes with the duke.

“What is this?” You murmur.

“Painting. Will you join us?” He asks softly.

He pulls out a chair for you, and you sit.

“I thought you did not believe in art.” You tell him.

“I still do not. However, I know that it is something you enjoy. Alas, here we are. Do you like it?” He questions, almost nervous.

You grin, seeing all the colours and brushes lined up in front of you.

“I love it.”

You start, already picking up a brush and dipping it in the water. Yuuji gets straight to it as well, looking at the different colours thoughtfully. You do a few brushstrokes on the canvas, and notice almost immediately that the duke is sitting doing nothing.

“Is everything quite alright, my lord?” You ask curiously.

He clears his throat, nodding.

“Yes, I suppose I just… do not know what to do. I have never painted before.”

Yuuji gasps dramatically, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Like, never ever?” He asks.

Choso gives him a shove.

“It is easy my lord, I assure you. Take a look at the surroundings. When you see something that catches your eye, paint it.” You tell him.

He purses his lips, taking a look around. You stifle your giggle at his cluelessness. Yuuji is too distracted by the colours in front of him to pay any mind to the two of you.

He looks around, his eyes eventually landing on you.

“Did you see anything, my lord?” You ask.

He stares for a moment, eyes fonder than you would have expected. The longer he waits to reply, the warmer your cheeks feel, the heavier the weight in your core settles.

“Yes.” He says, still watching you.

“Excellent. Now paint it!” You chirp.

He nods slowly, looking down at the tools in front of him. He picks it up, beginning to work on his art.

The three of you chat occasionally while you paint, ignoring the stares of people as they walk past. Your maid sits in a chair behind you, doing embroidery of her own. Yuuji tells you about his past few days, and you listen intently. Occasionally he drags the duke into it, who vehemently refuses to get caught up in his antics. It makes you laugh.

It feels like home.

The afternoon sun is warm by the time the three of you finish. Proudly, you prop up your work to show the other boys. Yuuji makes a ‘woah’ noise, and the duke looks rather surprised.

“It’s our estate!” Yuuji yells, voice much too loud for the matter at hand.

You attempted to capture every aspect of the Kamo estate, from the beige stone bricks to the dark vines creeping up the front. It looks pretty good, if you do say so yourself.

“You did it from memory? That is impressive.” The duke tells you.

You chuckle softly, placing the canvas back down.

“I try. Well, are you boys done?” You ask.

Yuuji hums excitedly, showing off his painting. It is a little wonky, slightly off, but you can see it is a portrait of him, Miss Kugisaki, and Mister Fushiguro. A difficult portrait to make, but done surprisingly well for someone who has only painted a handful of times.

“‘Tis adorable, Yuuji!” You exclaim.

“It is very nice.” The duke says, observing it. “Looks just like them.”

The boy preens at the praise, puffing up his chest proudly.

“Thanks, I know!”

The both of you turn to the duke. A blush dusts across his face.

“What did you paint, big brother?” Yuuji asks curiously.

The duke coughs uncomfortably, looking rather embarrassed.

“It is nothing. It is not well done.” He says.

“Everyone has to start somewhere, my lord.” You hum.

Yuuji nods.

The duke can tell that the two of you are not going to relent, and he sighs. He hesitates, clearly having some sort of internal struggle. After a few moments, he lifts up the painting, and you freeze.

“Woah, it’s big sis!” Yuuji says.

Unmistakably, and rather good in terms of skill, it is a painting of you. You were expecting perhaps a poorly drawn tree, a picture of the river running through the park. This is… something else entirely.

Your ears feel hot, and you suddenly feel very shy. The duke looks even more distressed than you. Mortified might be the correct term, like he never thought you would see his creation despite you being right beside him.

“It is beautiful, my lord.” You murmur.

He finally faces you, and you look into his light brown eyes like you might find some answer to a question you have not yet discovered.

“It looks just like her, the resemblance is uncanny! How did you do it, big brother?” Yuuji asks, looking closer at the canvas.

“She is right there, it is not hard.” He grumbles.

“So grouchy.” Yuuji groans.

The boys bicker, but all you can stare at is the canvas.

The brushstrokes are loose, relaxed like someone who has been painting for years instead of someone who just picked up a brush. Your eyes are the focal point, and he captured them perfectly. You look… different, somehow, in his artwork. Like you are seeing yourself through his eyes.

“My lady?” He whispers.

You look up and see both boys now looking at you. You laugh uncomfortably.

“Shall we pack up? I do believe it is time for us to stretch our legs.” You tell them, standing from your chair.

You and the duke begin to pack things up. Your hands touch each other when you both reach for the same brush, and it makes you pause. You both mumble a small ‘I apologize’, going back to putting everything in its place in the case.

Yuuji, instead of helping, is staring at the two of you like he is seeing something he has never noticed before.

—

Yuuji skips ahead of you while you walk through the Ton, looking through the windows of various shops.

The duke carries the case of art supplies while you try to keep up with him. The two of you have not yet spoken of the painting, instead sitting in a fine line between comfortable and uncomfortable silence.

“I want to go in here! I’ll be right back.” Yuuji yells out to the two of you, before dashing into the store.

And then there were two. Other than your maid, of course, who stands a respectable distance away.

The duke leans against the wall. You stand, holding your umbrella to shield you from the afternoon sun.

“I liked your painting.” You murmur quietly.

He sits with those words, silent for a moment.

“Thank you.” He replies.

Another bout of quiet falls over you. You kick the loose rocks from the cobblestone paved roads under your feet.

“I have been thinking.” He starts.

You look back up at him, curious. Encouraging him to continue.

“I did not realize art could be so… relaxing. Therapeutic. There were many times in the past where I undermined your love for painting. I apologize.”

“You do not have to apologize, my lord. It is hard to imagine how freeing it is until you actually participate in it.” You reply simply.

“That is true, I suppose. I think… I will enroll Yuuji in art tutoring as well. He seems to like it.” He states.

Your eyes widen in surprise, shocked at his sudden change of heart.

“Really? That is all it took for you to change your mind?” You ask.

He laughs softly.

“I suppose so.” He says.

“Well, I am glad that you did. Yuuji will be very happy to hear it.” You smile gently.

So quickly, and likely before the duke can even stop the words leaving his lips, he confesses something to you.

“I am not sure whether I enjoyed painting or if I just enjoyed painting you.” He blurts out.

Your mouth parts, and you suddenly are able to hear your heartbeat in your ears at the implications. Your grip on the umbrella falters for just a moment, but it is enough for it to get picked up by the wind and carried down the street.

You curse, going to chase after it, holding up the skirt of your dress. The duke comes with you, looking equally as frazzled. The umbrella keeps going and going and going, and you suddenly double over in laughter at how ridiculous the two of you look chasing after this umbrella gone wild.

Infected by your joy, the duke lets his own laughs out between bouts of running. You get to the end of the street before he finally catches up to it, snagging it from the ground and holding onto it tightly.

He lifts it up, handing it to you.

“My lady.” He pants, drained from the sprinting and laughing.

You grin, taking it from him.

“Thank you, my lord.” You breathe out.

The two of you gaze at one another, both catching your breath. Your chest rises and falls, and you cannot help but notice the way his broad chest does the same. You look up at him, suddenly very interested in the way he nearly glows under the summer sun.

Your eyes especially focus on the way he reaches up to adjust his cravat against his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing making you feel hot in all the right places. He gazes at you while he does it, unaware of the effect it has on you.

You clear your throat.

“Shall we head back? Yuuji is probably fretting over where we went.” You tell him.

“Indeed. Let us go.” He replies.

The two of you head back, meeting Yuuji and Hina halfway, the boy already running to look for you before you got back.

“There you are! Where did you guys go?” He asks, confused.

“We chased after her umbrella that decided to fly away.”

You laugh again at the image of him running after the umbrella. As if he senses why you are amused, he jabs you with his elbow gently.

“It is not funny.” He deadpans.

You do not take it too seriously. You can see the grin he is forcing down curling at his lips.

“Well, we landed in front of a good store, at least.” Yuuji says, looking up at the sign.

It is an art store, and a very well known one. Yuuji looks at his brother longingly, and Choso sighs.

“We will be back.” He says.

Yuuji whoops, heading into the store. You chuckle as you watch them enter.

“You seem to be having fun, my lady. I am glad.” Hina says suddenly, after being quiet for most of the day so far.

You smile softly at the ground, thinking about your outing with the boys.

“I am.” You whisper wistfully.

She gives you a knowing look, moving to stare straight ahead.

“You should spend more time with them. It will be good for you.” She states.

“I wish I could. Mother would have my head.” You sigh.

Hina gasps sharply, and you turn to her, confused.

The man who always appears when you least want to see him (not that you ever truly do) is walking straight for you from across the street. You want to say his name. You want to tell him to stop where he is, to not come any closer.

You cannot. You are frozen in place.

“You.” Lord Geto seethes.

You frown, standing your ground silently.

“Now you want to be quiet? Great. I saw the latest edition of Lady Whistledown, no doubt your doing.” He snaps.

As if perfect timing, a couple walk past, whispering about Lord Geto. He grits his teeth.

“Silence!” He yells at them.

Shocked, they scurry away quickly.

“You cannot do anything to me here, Lord Geto.” You tell him, getting over the trembling in your fingers.

“I cannot? That is news to me. Believe it or not, darling, you are my betrothed. I can do whatever I want.” He sneers.

The man in front of you is nothing like the one you first met. He has been dissected, ripped apart for the whole Ton to see, and it was your doing. Gone are the charming smiles, the sly ploys to get at you. He cannot contain his vitriol anymore, anger on full display.

“Oh, spare me. You exhaust me.” You reply, rolling your eyes.

“I exhaust you? Imagine how I feel! You insolent-”

“Do you ever stop talking?” You cut in.

On pure instinct, Lord Geto’s hand raises above his head, coming straight towards your face. You can see it, but cannot react in time. It is too fast, too unexpected. You can only flinch.

A hand reaches out to grab Lord Geto’s wrist, ripping it away from you.

“Get the fuck away from her.” Choso basically snarls at him.

Yuuji comes barreling out of the store behind his brother, instantly bristling at the scene in front of him.

Not wanting to fight them, Lord Geto pulls his wrist away, sneering.

“Ah, it is you, the knight in shining armor.”

He turns to you then, peering around where Choso’s body is now blocking his sight.

“Soon enough, you will not be able to hide behind them anymore, princess. What will you do then?”

With that, he walks away, skulking down the street, glaring at the people who whisper when he passes.

You sigh, the tension leaving your body all at once.

“Are you alright?” Choso murmurs.

“My lady, that was terrible! Are you okay?” Hina asks.

You hate the feeling of being fretted over, cringing slightly. The adrenaline of seeing him again after the last time is still pumping through your veins, your heart beating fast.

“I am fine, please, do not worry about me.” You sigh.

“Of course we’re going to worry! That bastard just tried to hit you!” Yuuji yells.

“Language, Yuuji. But yes, he did.” Choso corrects.

“I assure you, this is not surprising in the least. Now tell me, what did you buy?” You say, attempting to change the subject.

The boys share a glance.

Relenting, Choso hands a bag to you.

“For you.” He simply says.

“For me?” You parrot, opening the bag.

In the bag, there is paint, a very, very expensive brand of paint. There is a new writing quill in the bag as well. You tear up, suddenly feeling very overwhelmed.

“For me?” You say once more.

He nods.

“Do you like it?” He asks quietly.

You nod, bottom lip trembling. He sags in relief, as if you could ever hate something he has gifted to you.

“Yes. Very much so.” You smile tearfully.

—

That night, you return to your estate, heading straight for your parent’s room.

You push the doors open, and they startle.

Both in night attire, they stare at you like you have grown a second head. Your mother is in bed, book in hand, and your father stands in the middle of the room, caught off guard.

“My dear, what on earth?” Your mother asks, shocked.

“Lord Geto dishonoured me against my will.” You confess suddenly.

Your parents go silent at that. You continue, hands clenched at your sides.

“I hate him. I hate him, and I want him gone. Meeting him was the worst thing that ever happened to me.” You grit out, emotional.

Your parents share a look. Your mother looks more stressed than your father.

“Husband…” She says, full of warning.

“Silence, woman.” Your father states, voice booming.

She goes quiet, instead turning to stare at you sadly.

“You know we cannot break the engagement now.” He says sternly.

You knew this would happen. You expected this outcome, but it does not hurt any less to know how little your parents care about you. You fight back.

“No, I will not accept that, Father. I cannot. I will not marry him.” You reply, voice breaking.

“You will. You have no choice in the matter, you will do what I say!” He yells.

“The duke dishonoured me first!” You blurt out, “He came to my room in the middle of the night, and dishonoured me, and I let him. I cannot marry Lord Geto.”

Your mother sighs, closing her book.

“My dear…” She says sadly, “You do not have to lie.”

Your heart drops.

“Lie?”

“I know you have a little infatuation with him, but the duke did not dishonour you. He came in the middle of the night? Without anyone noticing? I highly doubt that.” She says.

Your father shakes his head, pinching the space in between his eyebrows.

“You think I am lying to get out of marrying Lord Geto?!” You exclaim, the weight of the situation suddenly hitting you.

“Stop this foolishness at once, girl! If Lord Geto dishonoured you, then that is done. You must go through with the wedding.” He says.

“You are not listening to me! I just said the duke-”

“You really think the duke wants you?” Your father spits. “You have nothing to offer, you weak little girl. He would not marry you even if we begged him, and that is completely disregarding the blatant lie you just spat.”

You stop in your tracks. Your breathing is the only thing you can hear. Your entire body is trembling, reality hitting you like a carriage.

You will have to marry Lord Geto.

They do not believe you.

They do not love you enough to care about the fact that he dishonoured you by force.

It is over.

“Go to bed now, dear.” Your mother whispers.

Tears slip down your cheeks, and you turn, slamming the door shut behind you.

They do not care.

You were foolish enough to think that they would. Perhaps your father is right about one more thing.

Thoughtlessly, you have wrapped yourself up in the idea that Choso will save you from this, one way or another. You have nothing to offer the duke. He will not save you from your fate.

You are alone.

Chapter Text

The duke has invited you out.

Just you two this time. No Yuuji, or Eso, or Kechizu. Allegedly, he has somewhere that he needs to visit every month or so, and he wants you to visit with him. You said yes, the main reason being that you are about to be married off in mere days. Two, to be precise.

You are likely to never see him again after this.

You probably will not see any of the brothers after this. The painting afternoon is the last time you will see Yuuji, the ball the last time you will ever see Eso and Kechizu. Today is the last time you will ever see Choso Kamo. Of course, none of them know it.

As you sit in the carriage with him, you figure that you can eventually come to terms with these facts.

“Where are we going, my lord?” You ask.

You have been in the carriage for a while now, over a half hour. The scenery outside is just plush greenery, beyond the Ton at this point.

“I should like to keep it a secret until we are there.” He replies.

You hum, going back to staring outside.

The duke is watching you, as if he can sense something is off. He probably does. He is awfully perceptive like that.

He does not speak on his suspicions.

“It is beautiful outside the Ton, is it not?” He says.

You hum once more.

“It is.”

“I would like to move out here soon. It is peaceful. Quiet.”

“I take it you would enjoy the solitude.” You tell him.

“Indeed. I… sometimes tolerate the men I work with, with a heavy emphasis on the prince, but I find that out here is where all the good happens. No prying eyes, no gossip. Just peace. However, being in the Ton right now is best for business.” He states.

You nod, suddenly looking out the window to notice a building coming up.

“Is that where we are going?” You ask curiously.

He peeks his head out to see where you are looking, and smiles.

“Indeed.”

The carriage slowly pulls up to the building. The duke exits first when it stops, holding open the door for you. He offers you a hand. You take it, feeling the warmth of his skin through your gloves. You continue to hold your hand in his own, even after the door is closed.

He pauses, glancing down to where your hands are meeting. He does not move to pull away, though. He simply runs his thumb along your gloved hand.

You pull away first.

“Where are we?” You ask, looking straight ahead.

He clears his throat.

“It is a school.”

You turn to him, mildly confused.

“A… school?”

He elaborates as the two of you walk closer to the building.

“An orphanage. A mix of the two, more specifically. I had it built a few months before my father died. He was a pretentious bastard, to be frank. He always thought that education should be reserved for a select few. I happen to think that education should be available to anyone who should want it.”

“So there are children here?”

“Yes. They are taught and raised by teachers who I personally selected for the job.”

The double doors open, and you walk inside.

“The children here… most of them had no home to return to, no parents to care for them. Others are from lower income families who come here every day to learn for a very low fee. There is no school in the Ton for children like that. We provide the transportation for them, of course.” He says, explaining further.

You look around in awe, admiring the space around you. Children run by your feet, happy voices raised, followed by teachers who give you a smile and a small bow as they pass.

“It looks like it is their outdoor time.” He states, amused.

“Duke Kamo!” A woman’s voice says.

She approaches, an older woman with greying hair and a tight collared shirt under her dress. Her approach is warm, welcoming.

“Headmistress.” He replies, giving her a small bow.

You bow as well, and she laughs.

“I told you to stop bowing, my lord. Please, come with me. We will do the walking tour.” She says, gesturing to follow.

You interlock your arm with the duke’s. He does not flinch. As if it is almost natural for your arm to be there.

“I see you brought a friend this time, my lord.” She states, looking back at the two of you.

“Oh! I apologize for my rudeness, my lady.” You say, followed by introducing yourself.

She hums, smiling softly.

“I did not realize the duke had friends. And such pretty ones, at that.” She teases, amused.

“Get on with the tour.”

His words are spoken harshly, but you can see the way his ears flush red with embarrassment. The headmistress laughs at him, shaking her head.

“The children are doing remarkably well, increasingly so since the last time you visited. We have been integrated more outside learning, and it seems to be helping rather than being in the classroom all day.” She says.

He nods, taking a look around at the state of the building.

“That is good to hear. And the funding is enough?” He asks.

“More than enough, my lord. Thank you for your generosity. These children really need it.” She replies earnestly.

“And the deliveries? Food, school supplies, it is all arriving as scheduled?”

You are still sort of reeling from the situation. This is not what you had expected for the day, and you did not even know that this was a part of the duke’s life. It makes you wonder what else you do not know, what you have yet to discover about him.

Their chatter falls distant as you look into the surroundings. The building is well taken care of, clean and put together despite having children run through the halls daily. The teachers in their classroom teach basic mathematics, writing, and reading as you pass by. There are children of all different ages, some appearing as young as five, some as old as thirteen.

The three of you walk through the kitchen, watching as the cooks make the lunches for the children. You pass by the dining hall, walking through a pair of double doors that lead outside.

“Do the children here get adopted?” You whisper to the duke.

“Occasionally. Not as often as I would like, however. These children deserve a forever family.” He whispers back.

You approach a class who appears to be learning about science outside. Their teacher greets you.

“Children! Say hello to the duke!” The teacher says.

A chorus of ‘hello, duke’ is heard, which makes you chuckle. He goes over to inspect what the children are looking at, and you stay behind with the headmistress.

“He is rather generous.” You tell her.

“Indeed. He is a good man. You are lucky to have each other.” She says.

Your face grows hot, and you quickly go to correct her.

“It is not like that, we are just… friends. Most of the time. Regardless, I am engaged.” You state, embarrassed.

She chuckles unbelievingly.

“Happily engaged? Well, congratulations, then.”

“Not quite happily, but… he makes it easier.” You confess quietly, staring out towards the duke.

He is speaking with the children, excitedly telling them about plants and how they feed from the sun. They listen intently, asking questions over each other louder and louder. He answers each and every one, not leaving any of the children behind. He laughs at something one of the children says, ruffling her hair. It gives you butterflies in your stomach.

He would be a good father, you realize.

A good father to someone else’s children.

Your chest squeezes tight. Your corset suddenly feels ten sizes too small, and you place a hand over your chest, attempting to regulate your breathing. You feel dizzy, almost nauseous at the thought. What the hell has gotten into you?

“Are you quite alright, my lady?” The headmistress asks, concerned.

“Yes, I am fine, I just feel really hot all of a sudden.” You tell her.

“Let me go get you some water. I will return shortly.” She swiftly takes off inside.

Your heart is still pounding in your ears.

You come to a realization then that should have been made a long time ago.

All the bickering, all the laughs, all the tears, the tension, it has all accumulated to this one moment. You do not want him to get married, to have children. To grow old with someone, to live every moment in the presence of a woman by his side. You loathe the idea of someone else being able to see him like this, for him to be vulnerable with another.

All because you want him for yourself.

It is a realization so frightening that your hands begin to tremble. You want him. It has never been Lord Geto, not once. It has always been Choso. From the first moment you met, he consumed your very being, till there was nothing left but him inside your heart. You want him. You want him.

You are in love with the duke. So hopelessly and devastatingly infatuated with him.

And you can never have him.

The headmistress returns with water, urging you to sit down. You do, the sounds around you fading into nothing. You can only hear one phrase rattling around in your head.

You love him.

Choso kneels in front of you, his concerned face coming into view. He says your name once, twice, until you come to. He holds your hand, caressing it gently.

“Are you alright?” He murmurs, worried.

His eyes are so earnest. Genuine. It makes you tear up for a moment, but you force the tears down, unwilling to ruin this moment for him.

“I am just warm from the summer heat. I apologize.” You tell him.

“Do not be sorry. I am done here anyways. I have checked in on everything I needed to. Let us go home.” He says softly.

You nod, biting your bottom lip to stop the words you really want to say from slipping out.

The carriage ride is quiet. With your recent discovery, it hurts too much to speak to him knowing you’ll never see him again. You stare out the window distantly, feeling like your mind is disconnected from your body. You listen to the rattling of the carriage as the horse pulls it forward.

“Tell me what is wrong.” He suddenly says.

You glance at him.

“Nothing is wrong, my lord.” You reply.

He scoffs.

“You know that is not true. You have been distant the entire day. Tell me what plagues you.” He states.

You go quiet, staring at the way the trees blow in the wind. The window is opened, allowing some of the breeze inside, and it tickles your face when it passes.

“I am to be married in two days.” You say bluntly.

His face drops.

“What?”

“This will be the last time I ever see you, my lord.” You state, voice steady.

He stares at you, stunned. His mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words to say.

“Why… what- I thought Lady Whistledown posted about the rumours about him in her paper? Was that not enough to sway your parents?” He asks.

You laugh humourlessly, thinking about the conversation you had with your parents a few days prior.

“No, I am afraid not.” You simply say.

“So what, that is it, then? You will not fight it? You are just going to accept being married to that bastard?!” He exclaims.

“It does not matter, regardless. I have accepted my fate. I will be married off to Lord Geto. Perhaps if I am lucky, I will not have to bear too many of his children. He looks like he has a big head. That is, if he does not kill me first.” You muse.

“You think this is humorous?!” He yells, livid.

“No, I do not! You think I am not taking this seriously, Choso? I have fought, with all my might, to be out of this. I had a conversation mere days ago where I confessed that he dishonoured me. Now if I do not marry him, my father will disown me forever, leaving me houseless and penniless.” You shout back.

“You can still fight! There is hope!”

“Give up, Choso. It is over.” You whisper.

“I will tell them that I dishonoured you first.” He says, voice shaking.

You pause. You truly look at him, maybe for the first time this entire conversation. He looks disheveled, distraught. Worked up over an issue that is not relevant to him in any way. Before, you would have perhaps listened to his words, taken that little piece of hope for yourself. Now, it just makes you sad when you think of your mother’s words from the prior day.

“And what will we gain from that, exactly?” You ask.

“I… we…” He stammers.

“Exactly. They would not believe you, and even if they did, they would force you to marry me. We both know that you do not want to marry me, and that you want nothing from me. It would do nothing but cause us pain for the rest of time. Spare me.” You tell him detachedly.

The carriage stops in front of your estate, and you open the door, leaving without a second glance. Your feet hit the cobblestone, and you say your final words to him.

“Goodbye, Choso.”

He does not reply before the carriage door swings shut. It will be easier this way, you tell yourself. Easier for who, you do not know.

—

You stand in the middle of the church, staring up at the intricate stained glass. It is Mary, mother of god. She looks rather beautiful like this, surrounded by blue and red and yellow stained fixtures. The church itself is quite pretty. You wish you were here under better circumstances.

“My lady, does the aisle satisfy you?” Someone asks.

You turn, staring at the aisle that separates the pews.

It is adorned with white ribbons, decorated in red and white flowers. There are flower petals on the ground as well. It is… not very you. It screams like your mother, loud and obnoxious. To many, red symbolizes love and passion. To you, it is just… gaudy.

“It is lovely.” You say simply.

The person nods, getting back to work.

You stare at your mother and the priest speaking hushed about something, likely to do with your husband to be. You look away.

“Are you excited, my lovely bride?”

You do not face him as he approaches, still looking up at the stained glass window.

“You are in an awfully cheery mood today, Lord Geto.” You somberly state.

He smiles. It looks the same as the ones he first gave you all the way back then. Surrounded by people of the Ton, dancing and laughing, his smile charming and sweeping you off your feet. All you can feel towards him now is a faint sense of disdain, overshadowed by an overwhelming sense of nothingness.

“Well, it is my wedding tomorrow, is it not? That in itself is reason for celebration.” Lord Geto chirps.

“Your wedding.” You murmur.

“Indeed. I do not doubt you will make a beautiful bride. Perhaps we have gotten off on the wrong foot lately. I am sure that once we marry, it will be just like when we first met.”

“And what was that, my lord?”

“Amicable.”

Amicable. How funny to think you could ever be on good terms with Lord Geto. Even neutral terms are pushing it far. Who knows, maybe he will break you sooner or later. He has the rest of your lives to do it.

“We will see.” You say.

“You yourself are in a rather non-combative mood. Perhaps you are finally realizing that we are indeed a good match?” He asks.

You know even he does not believe his own words.

“Something like that.” You reply.

He rolls his eyes.

“When did you become so dull? What happened to that girl with fire?” He teases cruelly.

“You finally got what you wanted, Lord Geto. Be happy about it.” You simply respond.

He laughs, loud and echoing through the church.

“Oh, trust me, I am. I cannot tease you a little along the way?” He asks with a sly grin.

You stare at him, devoid of any emotion.

“Do as you wish.”

He smiles.

“I will, especially now that the Kamos will no longer be in the picture. That goes for any of your other wretched friends as well. Did you say your goodbyes?” He questions with mock concern.

“I did.”

That seems to surprise him, and his grin falters slightly.

At least you can still catch him off guard.

The bell atop the church rings, signalling the mid afternoon. You feel it rattle your body, and you stare back up at the stained glass.

It is truly fascinating.

—

“You are usually in a good mood when you come back from the school, brother. Instead, over the past two days, you have been acting like a priss. Mind explaining yourself?”

The tea room is quiet despite the presence of Choso and Eso. Choso chooses to ignore Eso’s words, continuing to read the book in his hands.

“You cannot ignore me forever, brother.”

Choso groans, slamming his book shut.

“What do you want?” He snaps.

Eso pauses. Choso sighs.

“I apologize, Eso. I did not mean to snap at you.” Choso relents.

Eso hums, leaning back in his chair.

“I cannot help if you do not tell me what the matter is. We are brothers, remember? Just because you are older does not make you immune to requiring help from us.”

Choso thinks about Eso’s words, sitting with his head in his hands.

“She is marrying him today.” He mutters.

“Today?!”

“Yes, today. And I hate it. I hate everything about their union. It makes me so angry. I cannot go to the wedding, but even if I wanted to, I have been barred from attending.” He confesses.

“Hold on, why did you not mention this sooner?” Eso gawks.

“Because I did not know what to say.” Choso honestly replies.

Eso knows deep down that this is a now or never moment. He takes a deep breath.

“Brother. Why are you so angry about their union?” Eso asks.

Choso looks at him like he has grown a second head.

“Eso, he is a freak. He is cruel, vindictive, and only wants to hurt her. I do not want to see her hurt more than he has already done.”

“Did something happen that I should be aware of?” He questions.

Choso, frustrated, rubs the space in between his eyebrows.

“He dishonoured her. By force.”

Eso exhales through his nose.

“Bastard.” He murmurs.

“Indeed. Now that she told her parents, she is being forced to marry him.” Choso says angrily.

“Well… brother… you did dishonour her first, did you not?” Eso questions.

Choso leans back in his chair, running a hand over his face.

“I told her as much. She did not want to listen to me. She simply said that I did not want to marry her, so it did not matter.” He sighs.

“... Do you?” Eso asks.

“Do I what?”

“Want to marry her.”

Choso pauses. He opens his mouth to say the first thing that comes to his mind, which is no, he does not. The words get caught in his throat.

He thinks about the statement you made. About bearing Geto’s children. It makes him sick to think that you’ll be carrying his children. He hates Geto. Hates everything he represents. He hates how he treats you, how he carries himself like he is a god in human flesh. Loathes his stupid fucking sly smile.

But more than that, he thinks about you. He thinks about your kindness, your intelligence, your compassion. Your love for his brothers, your selflessness. Your beautiful smile, your stupidly perfect face. Your love for art, your curiosity, your desire to learn more. He thinks about how you felt in his arms that fateful night that he took your lips on his own, the feeling of your skin on his.

And it makes him ill to think that you would belong to anyone but him.

“Yes.” He whispers, finally confessing what he knows he’s felt all along.

“I dream of her every night, Eso. She haunts me every moment of the day, whether I am awake or not. I want her. God, I want her so bad it physically pains me. I think that maybe from the moment I met her, I have always been hers.”

“Then what are you going to do about it, brother?” Eso asks sternly.

Choso realizes then that he can still do something about this. He can end this, right there, right now. No matter how you feel about him, he can at least try. Even if you do not love him, he would do anything to free you from the torment of Geto, despite the fact that it would be a marriage where he would always pine for you till the end of time.

He has to try.

—

Hina does your makeup, swiping some rouge across your cheek.

She uses some beeswax on your eyelashes to darken them, and some black liner along the edge of your eye. She finishes it off with powdering you down, and she steps back to observe her work.

“Beautiful as always, my dear.” Hina says.

You force a smile, looking down at the options for jewelry. You decide on sapphires.

Something blue. For him.

You have not seen Choso since that day, and perhaps it is for the best. You do not think you could bear to say goodbye once more, the grief would surely kill you. It is fine this way. You will leave the Kamos a memory in your brain to hold onto forever. The one thing that is yours to keep.

You stand from your chair, and observe the wedding dress hanging in the corner. It is frilly, overstated and severely outdated. Something utterly and completely void of any of your personality. Your mother hand picked every decision for it, the modiste giving you a pitiful glance the whole time.

Hina plucks it off the rack, pulling it over your head. You settle into it, feeling rather uncomfortable with the itchy fabric.

A knock rings out, your mother entering.

“Are you ready, my dear?” She asks.

You nod. You cannot speak. You fear that if you do, only sobs will come out.

You follow her downstairs, the carriage waiting for you outside. You do not spare a glance at the Kamo estate before you depart. A reminder of what you will never have is too much to bear.

The ride is quiet. Your parents sit across from you, and they do not speak to you. It is fine. You had no interest in conversation anyways. You merely peer out the window, watching the people of the Ton go about their day.

Once you arrive at the church, the priest meets you outside to talk about some of the protocols. Your mother waits inside. The priest re-enters the building when he finishes speaking, no doubt going to his waiting spot at the end of the aisle.

You link your arm with your fathers. You do not speak.

You can hear the wedding march from inside. Your heart starts to beat faster, harder, like a violent thumping in your chest. It is painful. Your fingers tremble. You clench your hands to make it go away.

The doors open, and you are faced with the smallest wedding crowd you have possibly ever seen.

Most weddings have at least a few rows of pews filled with people in attendance. In total, there are maybe three people in attendance. Your mother, an aunt, and a distant cousin. None of your friends or favourite relatives, the Earl refusing to let them attend.

Your eyes tear up, and for all the wrong reasons. The walk to the altar feels like a march to your demise. You want to pull away from your father, to run away forever. To leave this awful place.

Alas, you must face your fate.

Lord Geto awaits you at the altar. Smug, sly, and everything you hate in human form. He smiles at you. You do not return it.

Your father passes you off to Lord Geto, not at all looking pleased to do so, but clearly not hateful enough to prevent you from marrying him in the first place. You hold hands with him, resisting the urge to rip your hands away. Your lip curls in disgust.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.” The priest begins.

All the words fall into the background of the fuzziness in your mind.

This is it. Everything you have fought for accumulated to this one very moment. It is officially over. Your life will no longer be your own, and you will be moved to the countryside like cattle, possibly never to be seen again. You would say that it could be worse, that you could be dead, but even death would be a more merciful fate than this.

“-I do.” Lord Geto says.

The priest turns to you then.

“Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the estate of holy matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honour and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

You stare at the man in front of you. He looks victorious. Like he won the game only he has been playing. Perhaps he has.

You look back at the priest.

“I d-”

“Stop!”

The doors to the church slam open, and everyone in the room jumps at the impact. You turn to the source of the noise, and your heart positively flutters at the sight.

The duke, Choso, is here.

“My lord, what are you-” The priest begins.

“Stop this wedding at once!” Choso angrily states, walking up the aisle.

“What the hell?!” Lord Geto spits.

“Choso…” You whisper.

He stops halfway up, as if he is scared to move any closer.

“I would not be able to live with myself if I did not at least try to tell you my thoughts before… before any of this.” He says, voice breaking.

You pull your hands from Geto’s, turning towards Choso. Hope, so small and miniscule, bubbles up in your chest.

“Yes?” You say, trembling.

“Hold on-”

“I do not want you to be married. I loathe the thought of it. At the beginning, when we still hated each other, I thought maybe it was because I was jealous. Then, it was that I hated who you were interested in. The reality is, after all this time, I could not stand that anyone but me would be by your side.”

Your eyes widen.

“I do not know when it happened, but I have fallen so deeply in love with you that it frightens me. Ever since I met you, you have consumed my very being. I need you. I wish to not breathe air unless you are sharing it with me. I wish to not experience life unless you are by my side during it. I just want you. Nothing more, nothing less. Just you.”

Your mouth parts, words unable to even form on your tongue. The room is deathly silent, your breathing the only thing you can hear.

“Choso…”

“I am in love with you. Marry me instead.” Choso says, holding out a hand.

You laugh suddenly, tears escaping your eyes.

You do not answer him. You run away from the altar, ignoring the calls from your parents and Lord Geto. Grabbing Choso’s hand, you pull him with you, running out of the church doors.

The two of you run side by side down the street, laughing the whole way. The wind blows around you, and for the first time in your life, you feel lighter than air. Your veil trails behind you while you run, flowing in the wind. When you run far enough for them to not be able to find you, you stop, chest heaving.

Choso gazes at you like nothing else matters.

“I-”

“I love you, Choso.” You breathe.

He stops, staring at you in disbelief. As if he never expected for you to return his feelings. He grabs you by the waist, pulling you closer.

“You do?” He repeats.

“Yes! Yes, I do. God, I am in love with you. I think I always have been.” You laugh tearfully.

He pulls you into a kiss.

It is rushed and messy, making up for lost time. You grab his face, pulling him impossibly close. Your noses smush together, foreheads bumping. You run your fingers through the base of his pigtails, along the back of his neck, his arms, anything you can reach.

It is not perfect, but that is what makes it so you.

He pulls back, the widest smile you have ever seen on him stretched across his face. He murmurs your name, cupping your cheek. You lean into the touch, feeling your own smile exhausting your cheeks.

“Marry me, my love. I promise, every single day of your life you will never be left wanting. You will be cherished for the rest of our lives together. I love you, marry me.” He says breathlessly.

You pull him into another short kiss.

“I will marry you, Choso Kamo.” You grin.

For the first time in a long time, you feel perfectly content.

Chapter Text

The Duke of Devonshire and the Diamond are to be married soon, following the Duke’s abrupt interruption of the lady’s wedding to the Earl of York. Not quite a scandal, for as anyone who has met the pair knows, there has always been something romantic between the Duke and our Diamond. It was an inevitable love match bound by fate.

Let this be a reminder to us all that love always does prevail. For many of the weddings this season, whether they be arranged or not, I wish the best of luck to all.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

—

It is funny how quickly life can change.

It felt like the briefest flash. One moment, you are donning a frilly gown, prepared to marry the man of your nightmares. All hope lost, just clinging to any sense of dignity you can muster. The next, you are here, in the present, preparing to marry the love of your life. So much happened in less than a week.

Miwa and Hina are preparing you for your (second) wedding, this time doing a much more classic timeless look. Something more you.

Hina puts on your powder, and Miwa settles the headpiece atop your head.

“Are you excited, my lady?” Hina asks, positively beaming.

You grin at her, cheeks already hurting from how much you have been smiling throughout the day.

“More than, Hina. I still cannot believe that this is happening.” You confess, picking at your nails.

“It was always meant to be. Everyone could see it but you two, apparently.” Miwa pipes up, fastening the piece in place.

You scoff playfully, shoving her lightly. She laughs, backing away to make sure that your veil looks right.

“Beautiful.” She chirps.

The three of you giggle, the pre-wedding nerves kicking in.

A knock echoes through the room, and you turn to the door.

“Come in!” You yell.

A butler comes in, a letter in hand.

“For you, my lady.” He says with a small bow.

You take the note, thanking him. You open it as the butler takes his leave.

My love,

As I am unable to witness your beauty prior to our wedding, I must share this note with you instead. I cannot wait to see you in your wedding gown, walking down the aisle. I just know you will be positively radiant. I only hope you are not as nervous as I, for if you are, we are both in a bit of a predicament.

On a more serious note, do not fret, my dear. Today will be perfect, just like you. I cannot wait for this day to be over so we might begin our lives together. My beautiful bride, I will await you at the end of the aisle, and I cannot even begin to describe how delighted it makes me.

I love you,
Choso

Your ears burn as you read the letter. You did not realize he could be so romantic.

Miwa squeals behind you, and you turn around to see the two ladies reading the note as well. Flustered, you close the note, and they giggle at your embarrassment.

“Who knew the Duke could be so charming!” Miwa exclaims.

“He has reserved it only for her.” Hina replies, powdering your face.

Miwa picks up your jewelry, fastening it around your neck. She puts your earrings in as well. Both women take a step back, and you look into the mirror in front of you.

Choso was right. You do look radiant.

“You are beautiful, my dear.” Hina murmurs.

You smile softly at her.

“Are you getting emotional, Hina?” You ask, teasing.

“No.” She says, wiping her eyes.

You laugh, rubbing her arm gently.

“Say, do you know anything about… tonight?” Miwa asks suddenly.

You tilt your head, confused.

“I am aware that things happen.” You reply.

“Do you know what they are?”

You are minutely under the impression that whatever happens during your wedding night is supposed to allow you to bear children. You are also privy that it is called consummation. That is as far as your knowledge goes. Your mother refused to ever have a further conversation with you, the topic never being broached with anyone else.

“...No.” You admit sheepishly.

Miwa and Hina give each other a glance

“Well, that will not do. I will go grab the drawing papers.” Hina says, walking away.

You give Miwa a look, and she gives you an apologetic glance.

—

“So he… inserts himself. How long does this go on for?” You ask.

The papers are laid out in front of you, graphic depictions of intercourse on every page. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment, but you force yourself to look anyway. Clearly, this piece of knowledge that you were lacking is of utmost importance.

“Usually only a few minutes.” Miwa says, and Hina nods.

“Depending on the man, sometimes longer.”

“Does it hurt?”

“The first time? Greatly.” Miwa replies.

You cringe, not anticipating needing to do something like this on your wedding night. You were not aware what consummation entailed. It makes your nerves begin to creep to the surface, tickling your skin. You are lucky to be having this conversation now and not later.

Then, you picture Choso, who you will no doubt be sharing a bed with tonight. In these positions. Fully nude.

You shake your head rapidly, trying to rid yourself of improper thoughts.

“Alright, I believe I understand!” You say, standing up from your chair unexpectedly.

Miwa and Hina both jump at your sudden display.

“Shall we put the dress on?” You ask rapidly.

“Uh- yes! We shall.” Hina replies.

Hina runs to grab the dress from the next room, and you are left alone with Miwa. She grabs your hands, holding them tightly.

“Do not be nervous. Today will be perfect, from beginning to end. You will look back on this day fondly for many years.” She reassures.

You smile, tense shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Thank you, Miwa. I do not know what I would do without you.” You say earnestly.

She grins, perking up.

“I know.”

—

Your mother and father ride with you in the carriage. It brings you an odd sense of deja vu to be in this exact same position only a week after the previous. This time, your mother speaks to you in hushed whispers, even though your father can still hear.

“And remember, darling, to smile the whole time. Men like that.” She utters.

You roll your eyes at her softly.

“Yes, mother.”

“Good.” She replies.

You think that the conversation of her telling you exactly what to do is finally over, until she turns to you once more.

“I do not like the Kamos.” She says sharply.

You stare at her.

“A…Alright.” You tell her, dumbfounded.

“But…” She says, voice softening.

“I like them a lot more than I liked Lord Geto in the end. You are lucky. I am glad.”

It is an apology, a concession, a statement that shows she sees you. It is the only acknowledgement you will likely ever get from her about the situation with Lord Geto. You assumed, and it appears correctly, that she was not particularly fond of Lord Geto, especially after what you told them about his dishonouring.

In the end, your father is the one who makes the calls. Your mother, in a grander scheme, has no real say in the matter.

Your father stays silent. You nod softly.

“Thank you, mother.” You murmur.

Satisfied, she gives you a curt nod, and returns to staring back out the window. You are grateful in many ways that you will not see your parents after this. Since Choso decided to live in the countryside, at least for the winter, you have long come to terms with it.

You will miss your mother, in your own way. Your father, not as much.

You arrive at the chapel. It is slightly more grand than the one that held your previous wedding, but you do not worry yourself about frivolities like that. You care about what is inside, and that is your soon to be husband and his family.

You step out, taking in the summer air. It smells fresher today. More alive.

Your family follows, and your mother gives you a small smile, heading inside. You wait outside with your father for the wedding march to start.

It feels almost like your last wedding. The sweaty palms, the uneasy tremors, the impending nervousness that never seems to fade. All for different reasons now than before. Now, they are trembles of excitement, not fear. The anticipation is nearly killing you. You just want to see Choso.

Your wish is swiftly granted.

The wedding march starts, and the doors open. You take a moment to adjust to the lighting when you walk in, but when you see him, the world stops.

He is truly stunning like this. Broad shoulders filling out his navy blue suit, tall and looking like he is about to break from the nerves of the day. His black cravat lays over his well tailored suit. He is positively mouth watering. He does not see you at first, looking over at all nine of his brothers in the pews.

He turns his head, though, and looks like he experiences the exact same moment you just went through.

A smile pulls across his cheeks, small and goofy, like he cannot control his expression even if he tried. You return it, and the closer you walk to him, the more you just want to throw yourself into his arms and stay there forever.

Your father passes you off to Choso, immediately taking his seat after. Choso’s gaze on you does not break, not when you walked, not when your father passed you off, and not now. He takes his hands into your own, and runs his thumb over your knuckles, something you have come to discover is a calming mechanism for him.

“Hello.” He breathes, almost in disbelief.

You grin, giggling softly.

“Hi.” You say giddily.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.” The priest begins.

There are a lot more people in attendance at this wedding. You did not notice before, your stare entirely on your soon to be husband. You spot many familiar faces. Your eyes land on the Prince, and he gives you a dramatic wave. Nanami grabs his arm from the air beside him, scolding him.

You grin, turning back to your fiance.

“You are perfect.” He mouths softly.

“I love you.” You say in return.

“I love you too.”

“I ask that people in the room do not speak unless spoken to.” The priest says, looking very pointedly at the two of you.

You bite your lip, leaning your face into Choso briefly to hide your giggles.

“We continue. Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the estate of holy matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I do.” Choso states without hesitation.

The priest turns to you.

“Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the estate of holy matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honour and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I do.” You repeat.

“By the joining of hands together, I now pronounce thee man and wife, in the name of the father, the son, and of the holy ghost. Amen.”

You finally, finally, get to lay your lips on his own.

The audience in attendance claps. You pull back against your better wishes, keeping the kiss short and sweet. The two of you walk down the aisle together, hand in hand.

You glance up at him the whole time, simply watching his facial features.

You trust that he will take you where you need to go.

—

Your wedding reception was… rowdy, to say the least.

Definitely more out of control than the average reception. Choso’s nine brothers did not make it easy. You liked them. You finally got to meet the ones you hadn’t met before. Noranso, Sho-oso, Tanso, Sanso, Kotsuso, and Shoso were very excited to meet you, and they were much more outspoken than the brothers you have already met.

Choso says it has something to do with their father being gone now.

The prince was very adamant on getting everyone to drink as well. The liquor, combined with an already excited crowd, was a recipe for disaster.

You had finally managed to filter everyone out around eleven o’clock, Miwa giving you a solid hug and a knowing look before she left. The brothers all retreated to their rooms.

It left just you and Choso.

He held out a hand, leading you to your now shared bedroom. You realize that, until then, you have never actually seen Choso’s bedroom. It is very much him.

You take a look around, and he closes the door behind you.

You can hear his footsteps move closer, and you do not move. You cannot bring your limbs to wake. You feel his presence behind you, strong and unyielding. With his hands on your hips, he places gentle kisses along your shoulder, leading up to the expanse of your neck. You sigh, leaning into the touch.

“I love you.” He murmurs into your neck.

“I love you too.” You whisper back.

He turns you around gently, making you face him. There is a look in his eye you have only seen twice before. Both times were in your bedroom.

You feel that familiar heat trickle up into your core. Your eyes flit between his gaze and his lips.

“Choso…” You breathe.

His name on your tongue spurs him into action, his lips pressing against your own. It is not like the previous times. It is slow, unhurried. Sensual. His hand rests on your lower back, and you sigh into his mouth.

You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. You undo his pigtails, his hair falling down over his neck. He pulls back, fingers tangled in your dress.

“May I?” He murmurs.

You nod, perhaps a little too eagerly. He pulls your dress over your head, and groans at the sight that awaits him.

You are residing in only your undergarments and a corset. Hina had insisted you forgo a chemise for convenience, leaving your breasts on full display for your husband. Your nipples peak in the cold air, your skin rippling in goosebumps from nerves.

Choso hesitates before touching you, looking at you for a silent show of permission. You nod, and against your expectations, he lifts you. You squeal as he carries you over to the bed, and he laughs.

He basically throws you down, leaning over you and enrapturing you in a kiss. You wrap your limbs around him, desperate for more. He pulls back, leaning down the expanse of your body.

“I have been dreaming of this for ages.” He states huskily, placing kisses down your collarbones.

You whine, arching up into him. You call out his name once more, and he gives you what you want. He latches onto one of your breasts, suckling gently. Choso’s hand raises to give the other attention, rolling the bud in between his fingertips. You moan, throwing your head back.

You feel dizzy. The sensations of everything happening for the first time are overwhelming, your body struggling to catch up. He leans back, basically ripping off his cravat and undoing the buttons of his suit jacket. He pulls off his shirt as well, and your mouth waters at the sight of his bare chest, strong and broad.

He picks you up, pushing you further up along the bed so your head rests on a pillow. He moves downwards, further down than you expected him to. You watch him curiously. He takes your undergarments off, sliding them down your thighs, exposing you to him. Embarrassed, you attempt to hide your face in your arms.

“Do not be shy, my love. You are perfect.” He says, his face disappearing between your legs.

Your corset is tight, so tight that when he breathes over your soaked cunt, you feel like you are going to pass out. Hina and Miwa gave you a lot of information, but they did not say anything about this.

He nuzzles his face in between your lips, groaning at the sensation of you on his mouth.

“So wet already, huh?” He murmurs.

You do not even know what that means. You tremble, propped up on your elbows to watch, despite every instinct in your body telling you to shy away from him. He places a kiss over a spot that makes you arch, gasping. He focuses his attention on the little bud at the top of your pussy, running over it with his tongue.

You are starting to realize now what the name for that heat in your core was. It was arousal. Arousal that is currently being sated by your lover in between your legs.

They told you it would hurt, that your first time would be painful. All you can focus on and feel right now is the overwhelming pleasure that Choso is giving you. It feels like utter bliss.

“Choso!” You cry out, hips bucking.

He holds your hips down, allowing him full access to your pussy. He spreads your lips with his thumbs, licking stripes all the way up and down your slit. The tip of his tongue flicks across that little spot, and you feel tears coming to your eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart…” He moans, savouring your taste.

You run your hands through his hair, gripping the strands by the roots. He wraps his lips around your little bud and sucks, and you let out a noise so debauched you could not even begin to describe it. When you are not looking, you feel a small pressure inside you. You peer downwards, and see that your husband has slipped a finger inside your waiting hole.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, eyes on yours.

You shake your head.

“No. It feels… feels good.” You confess shyly.

Chos lets out a small sigh of relief. He slips in another, carefully moving them in and out, curling them just so. You whine, wiggling your hips to meet his hand. The light, dim and yellow from the candles, illuminates your husband's back muscles. He looks beautiful like this, pliant and willing to do anything to please you.

His mouth is parted as he watches your pussy take his fingers. He leans down to mouth at your bud, his lips soft against you.

Your mind is reeling, trying to keep up. If it feels this way to only have his fingers in you, what is it going to be like when he puts his hardness inside? Your body trembles at the thought.

“You are doing so good for me, taking my fingers so well, my love.” He murmurs into your clitoris.

“Choso, I want more.” You plead.

He shushes you gently, kissing you on the cheek.

“Patience, darling. I do not want you to experience any discomfort. You must wait.” He tells you.

You grab his face, pulling him into a rough kiss. He groans into your mouth, and slips another finger into you. Your body shakes, tipping back and forth over a fine line between too much and not enough.

“I do not want to wait. I want you, now!” You argue.

He chuckles, kissing along the shell of your ear.

“You just have to argue with me, don’t you?” He grins.

You frown, turning your face away from him stubbornly. With a sneaky curl of his fingers inside you, you throw your head back, gasping.

“You want me that bad, sweetheart?” He murmurs.

“Yes, please, I need it!” You beg.

You do not even know what you are really pleading for. You just want more of him, you need to be closer, to feel him inside you, whatever that may entail.

He pulls his fingers out, sucking your juices off of them one by one. You watch carefully as he unbuttons his pants, kicking them off. He’s left just in his undergarments. Choso hesitates before taking them off.

“Are you sure?” He asks nervously.

You prop yourself up, pulling him into a sweet kiss. You reach down to pull down his undergarments yourself.

“I am sure.” You whisper into his mouth.

You pull them down completely, and you cannot control the way your mouth immediately drops when you look down.

It is big. Large and reddened with want, dripping with a clear liquid from the sticky tip that you want to lick clean. That is supposed to be inside you?

“I do not know if it is going to fit…” You murmur, eyes wide.

He chuckles, kissing you on the forehead.

“We will take it slow.” He reassures, “That is, if you still want to.”

“How many times do I have to tell you-” You frown, wrapping your fingers around his cock.

He barely manages to stifle his groan, throwing his head back.

“-I need you.” You purr.

He looks down at you, eyes full of lust. He removes your hand, leaning you back onto the bed.

“Another time.” He says.

He props your legs up, throwing them around his waist. Choso runs his tip through your folds, and you moan when it catches on your little bud. He pauses over your entrance, before pressing into your waiting hole.

You gasp, eyes wide. He bites his lip, face falling into the crook of your shoulder. The first sting fades fast. It does not hurt, per se, but it feels… full. You feel full, the pressure from the stretch making you squirm.

He slides the next few inches inside.

“Cho!” You whimper.

“I know, my love, I know.” He coos, running his fingers along your scalp.

He keeps going, and it feels like there is an endless supply of him, just more and more until you can barely take it. Both of you sigh in relief when his hips meet yours, fully flush against you. You take deep breaths, struggling with the feeling of him inside you. You swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“You feel that, darling?” He murmurs, grabbing your hand and holding it over your tummy. “That is me in there. You are doing so well, so good for me.”

You groan, tears threatening to escape from the overwhelming emotions flowing through you.

He pulls out, ever so slowly, and presses himself back in.

Choso starts with gentle thrusts, taking you slow and passionately. The pace allows you to feel every inch dragging along your sensitive walls. It is intoxicating, overcoming your every sense. All you can think about is your husband, thoughts of him bouncing around in your skull.

On a particular thrust, he presses in, causing a loud ‘squelch’. You keen, throwing your head back into the pillows.

“God, you are soaked, sweetheart. Look at this sloppy little thing.” He says, thumbing at where the two of you are connected.

You grip him by the roots of his hair, forcing his forehead to rest against your own. You look him dead in the eyes fiercely, fire behind them.

“More, Choso, I want more.” You breathe.

He nearly whimpers, nodding against your forehead. He adjusts his arms, and picks up the pacing of his thrusts. You cry out, finally getting what you have been craving.

It is deeper now, impossibly deep. His large hands grab your legs, pushing them up over your shoulders. You are pinned down now, completely at his mercy. There is nothing you can do but rake your fingers down his arms.

Every long, deep thrust pulls out more noises from you, the soft ‘uhn, mmph’ sounds filling the air. He looks delectable like this, looming over you, hair framing his face, mouth parted and eyes squeezed shut. He is lost in it, completely wrapped up in the feeling of your tight hole sucking him in.

The slap of his hips against your own is loud, the force in every thrust evident. His pubic hair brushes hard against your clit, the friction making your spine arch almost painfully.

“Choso, yes!” You gasp.

“Hah, s-so tight, god!” He breathes, fucking you deeper, harder.

His pace is unyielding, hard and fast, giving you his whole length with every push inside. He reaches down, roughly rubbing circles into your clitoris. You nearly scream, voice echoing into the room around you.

You feel a knot in your lower stomach begin to form. It is tight, winding up further and further the more your husband rubs that hard bud at the top of your pussy. Something is happening. Something so scary, so overwhelming, that you grip at Choso’s arms.

“Cho, something… something is happening. I am-” You whimper, “I am scared!”

He kisses you, lips tangling with one another. He pulls back, placing kisses along your jawline.

“Do not be afraid, sweetheart. Just feel it, let it happen.” He pants, amber eyes memorizing every movement of your face.

With your husband’s comforting words, the knot finally snaps, your climax violently washing over you. Your vision goes white, body trembling uncontrollably. You can distantly hear the sounds being ripped from your throat, rough and raw. Your husband’s praises fall on deaf ears, your hearing completely lost from you.

His thrusts grow sloppy, his pacing slightly off. Moans fall freely from his lips, his head thrown back.

“Cumming, I am cumming, fuck-!” He grits out.

With a long, drawn out groan, his climax hits, and you preen at the feeling of his seed filling you up. It is warm, and you can feel some of it slipping out and dripping down your slit. You run your fingers along his back, allowing him to ride out his high for as long as he pleases.

His cock softening, he pulls out, laying on the bed beside you. You roll over onto his chest, reveling in the sound of his heartbeat in your ears. You catch your breath, your world completely turned upside down.

“That was…” He begins, trailing off.

“Fantastic.” You finish. “Utterly perfect.”

The two of you look at each other for a moment before breaking out into giggles. He wraps his arm around you, holding your body close to him. The light illuminates your husband perfectly, lightly falling over his muscles and sharp features. You run a finger along the scar on his face.

“Do you require water? I can call the maids.” He murmurs, rubbing your back.

You shake your head, laying back down on his chest.

“No. I am content to just lay like this for now.” You tell him.

He nods. You ask him a question that has been nagging you for a little while now.

“Have you done this before?” You ask.

“Sex?”

You nod. He hums in thought.

“Why? Are you jealous?” He replies, amused.

You scoff, pushing at his chest. He laughs, pulling you back down.

“I jest. The answer is no, I have not.” He tells you honestly.

“Then how…” How did you know what to do? How did you do it so well? Thoughts run rampant through your mind.

Choso suddenly looks very, very embarrassed. He sighs.

“I tried to do research on how to make this the best possible experience for you, but there was not as much information on women’s pleasure as there is men's. So I found… other methods.” He confesses.

“Such as…?” You ask.

“... I spoke to some… ladies of the night. Asked them how best to please my wife during her first time. They helped me understand what to do and what to avoid. I paid them handsomely for their time, of course.” He tells you.

You stare at him. Really look at him. Choso, who you only were to marry less than a mere week ago, went through all this effort on figuring out how to please you. To make this experience the least bit painful as he possibly could.

You are not sure whether to laugh or to cry.

“Choso…”

His hand runs along the side of your face, caressing you gently.

“I only hope that you enjoyed yourself. That is all.” He says earnestly.

You resist the urge to sit up and smack him silly.

“I more than enjoyed myself, Choso. You need to give yourself more credit.” You tell him sternly.

He chuckles, the sound rumbling his chest.

“I am glad.” He simply replies, “I did as well.”

You lift your leg up a little, looking at the sticky mess of seed in between your legs.

“I can tell.” You say.

He leans over, running his fingers in between your legs, nearly scooping up the seed. He pushes it back inside you, and you let out a quiet moan when his fingers fill you once more. He lays back down only once it is all pushed back in, satisfied.

“Do you think it will take?” You ask quietly.

“I do not know. I hope so.” He replies honestly.

You hum, snuggling further into him.

“You will be a good father.” You tell him.

He goes quiet at that. All you can hear from him is his gentle breathing with the rise and fall of his chest.

“Stop thinking.” You scold.

He makes a noise of acknowledgement.

“I… can only hope I will. Every day I have the fear that I will turn out like my father. It would kill me to hurt you the way my father hurt my mother. The same applies to our children.” He muses.

You look up at him, his face a conflicting swirl of emotions. Your hand finds his face, running along his cheek. He leans into your touch.

“You will not. I know because you are kind with a heart of gold, and a good man, Choso. You basically raised all the boys in this house right now. Even Yuuji, who you are raising right now. Every single one of them adores you. You are not your father. You never will be.” You say.

He kisses your hand, holding it closely. You can see all the emotions in his eyes threatening to boil over. Instead, he simply places a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you.”

You smile.

“I love you too.”

—

The first thing you think when you open your eyes is that it is extremely late. The second is a query on where your husband is if you have been in bed for so long.

You ring the bell, calling the maids over.

Hina comes in first, ready to greet you.

“You slept in, my lady.” She says matter-of-factly.

“Why did you not wake me up, Hina?” You groan.

“Your husband insisted I let you rest, my dear. Blame him if you are to blame someone.” She says, amused.

Hina prepares you for the day, dressing you and doing your makeup. You wear navy blue, a common colour around the house as of late.

Walking down the halls, all the drapes are opened. Something you insisted on when you first started living here. We all need sun, you said. Choso never disagreed with anything you asked for, so you got your way.

This house is much different than the one in the Ton. The decor is still dark, but with more hues of purple and navy, much more welcoming than the other. You spend most of your time here now, along with your husband and the other brothers. You only return to the Ton for parties or for the start of the season, which is to be happening soon.

You pass by all the packed bags, exiting into the backyard.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light. You hear the boys before you see them. Eso, Kechizu, and Yuuji are all in the backyard, arguing over a game of pall-mall. Yuuji waves his hands wildly as he complains, the three not even noticing your entrance. You shake your head.

You then spot your husband, sitting under a tent, holding your daughter.

You smile at the sight at first. He sticks out his finger for your daughter to hold, and she chews on it, all gums. He looks down at her happily, not even looking at the scene in front of him. You then force a frown, remembering that you are supposed to be mad at him. He hears you coming, turning to look.

“My love.” He greets with a smile.

You ignore him, placing a kiss on your daughter’s forehead. She smiles widely when she sees you.

“You let me sleep.” You frown, crossing your arms.

He chuckles, gesturing to the spot beside him. You sit, facing towards the boys on the field.

“You needed it. The prince’s parties always take a lot out of you.” He says.

“You know I always want to spend as much time with you as possible.” You say, gesturing to him and your daughter.

“I know, darling. Can you find it in yourself to forgive me?” He asks.

You hum, as if thinking about it deeply.

“Perhaps.”

“And what will I have to do to earn your favour back once more?” He questions with an amused smirk.

“You can dance with me.” You say cheekily.

“You did not do enough dancing last night?” He laughs.

“No. Never enough. Not with you.” You tell him.

He stands, and you follow. Still holding your daughter, he sways back and forth, and you match his movements, wrapping your arms around them. Your movements cause your daughter to slowly doze off, and you chuckle.

“You are glowing.” Choso murmurs.

You look back up to find him staring so earnestly it almost frightens you.

“Shut up.” You murmur, embarrassed.

He laughs, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You know, we never did dance last season.” Choso points out.

You hum, swaying with your husband.

Yuuji calls out for you, and you turn and wave at him.

“We have the rest of our lives to dance together. I am not worried.” You say.

He smiles, pulling you into a deep kiss.

Yes, this, you think, is bliss.

—

-Miss Miwa and Mister Muta were not the only couple to welcome a child in the off season. The Duke Kamo and his Duchess welcomed a daughter in early May. A much deserved happy ending for the couple indeed after their rocky start. Keep an eye on those Kamos, eligible ladies. Allegedly, they are quite the romantics.

This author sees much gossip approaching upon us in the upcoming season. Rest assured, if it happens, it will be reported here.

Yours sincerely,

Lady Whistledown.

—

Kugisaki puts down her pen, sighing with relief at the end of the most recent issue.

Her parents like to stay in the Ton for the winter, the boredom seeping into her very bones. With the arrival of the newest season, the gossip is bound to be back, and Lady Whistledown will finally be able to return.

She is interested to see the Kamos come back this season.

Surely they will have much insight indeed.