Awkwardness

Thus, this spring evening became an unforgettable night. As Edward savored the exquisitely prepared delicacies, he grew deeply suspicious about what travelogue young Lance had actually read—Lance's home lay within his own domain, a place Edward had seen recorded in tax documents, hardly a particularly prosperous one. Could those precious books truly be stored in such a modest estate?

Edward ate slices of steamed buns filled with various braised meats, watching Tang Feiliu happily scoop water from the pot with two wooden chopsticks while munching on buns, his face radiant with contentment...

"Little Lance... Do you miss your home and your library?" Edward suddenly asked.

Tang Feiliu, who had been eating happily, swallowed a piece of braised pork knuckle in confusion and replied, "No... I mean, no. Anyway, only my brother is there now. There's nothing to miss."

Seeing Edward's expression, Tang Feiliu wondered if her answer had been too cold-hearted and hastily tried to make amends.

But Edward was delighted by this. He breathed a slight sigh of relief. His emotions were in turmoil, like two selves locked in a frantic tug-of-war— The dark side whispered with wicked temptation: "He belongs to you. Just reach out, and he'll be yours forever."

while the righteous Edward railed against him: "You can't hurt him! He's still a child! He trusts you so completely!"

Edward's head ached fiercely. Hearing Tang Feiliu express no attachment to his home eased his tension somewhat. He was actually quite pleased that Tang Feiliu preferred castle life—it meant his little angel loved his castle and found it comfortable and satisfying. Therefore, upon hearing Tang Feiliu's answer, Edward didn't press further. He simply nodded and said, "Very well. Finished eating? Once you're done, I'll show you the new room I picked out for you."

"Huh?!" Tang Feiliu had just finished eating in a daze when Edward wiped his paws clean with a warm, damp towel. Then he was led upstairs, slowly making his way to Edward's bedroom.

Edward pushed open the door next door—a pristine white room with polished floors, a clean washroom, and a private study.

"It's a bit small, but I had Dave redecorate it," Edward said to Tang Feiliu, surveying the suite that totaled about two hundred square feet. "This will be more comfortable than your current room."

"... But this... doesn't seem quite appropriate?" Tang Feiliu looked around the place blankly. If he remembered correctly, this was the very spot Ivanka had mentioned during their secret gossip sessions after they'd become close—wasn't this the "legendary" suite where, if a noble couple didn't get along, they could each live separately... yet still on the same floor? Hadn't Ivanka said the small suite next to the Duke's was reserved for the future Duchess?!

Tang Feiliu walked into the bedroom and sure enough, behind the velvet curtains, a door opened to reveal a passageway to the next room.

A nerve twitched in his brain. Tang Feiliu pushed... The door was movable, with no latch or lock whatsoever. A single push revealed an open view: a spacious four-poster bed covered in silk quilts and bedding... Tang Feiliu turned back to the Duke in shock, his voice slightly unsteady: "Um... Your Grace... Is this your room?"

Edward cleared his throat. "Yes. How do you like it?"

"It's... beautifully appointed... Though I knew I could move into a larger room in the main building come spring, I never imagined it would be here..." Tang Feiliu spoke blankly, still reeling from the shock. The place was undeniably comfortable, every detail crafted from the most luxurious materials. He even spotted candlesticks made of pure gold.

But comfort alone couldn't explain this. This place... this place felt utterly wrong for him to be staying in!

"As long as you like it." Edward nodded, clearly pleased with Tang Feiliu's response.

There it was again—that standard aristocratic composure, that "Very well, you know how to appreciate things" look of satisfaction. Tang Feiliu helplessly saw off the duke, who seemed inexplicably cheerful, then sat down on the bed piled high with soft silk and lace.

After a moment of dazed contemplation, Tang Feiliu still didn't understand the reason behind all this—but if even Grandpa Dave hadn't raised any objections, staying here probably wasn't that strange after all?

Thus, Tang Feiliu could only head to the bath with lingering questions. After a hot shower, he felt much better. Drawing back the curtains, he gazed at the beautiful, bright full moon outside. Sitting in his new room, it was time to sleep, but despite the sudden move to this comfortable new home, Tang Feiliu still felt utterly bewildered. As he sat pondering how all this had happened, the bedroom door suddenly swung open— —The duke, clad in a black nightgown, held a golden candlestick bearing a burning candle. Bathed in the flickering light, he resembled a castle vampire duke freshly risen from his coffin. The sight made Tang Feiliu jump in fright, nearly letting out an embarrassing yelp.

Edward truly exuded a vampire-like aura, especially under the full moon, within the ancient castle, and by candlelight—his mysterious presence radiated an overwhelming sense of awe.

Fortunately, the steaming cup of milk in Edward’s hand softened his icy demeanor. He walked over, placed the milk on the bedside table, then lifted Tang Feiliu off the bed with one arm. He pulled back the covers, tucked Tang Feiliu back in, and only then picked up the milk, murmuring, "Finish your milk before sleeping."

This fluid sequence of actions left Tang Feiliu bewildered. He looked up at Edward—this big brother's bizarre antics were growing increasingly perplexing. What was going on now?

Are you playing some kind of nurturing game?

Tang Feiliu reflected inwardly. It must be because he was being too pervy!

Forgetting he'd already brushed his teeth, he gulped down the milk in hasty sips before obediently nestling back under the covers—layers of luxurious white lace draped over his neck, the silk pillow adorned with lace edging soft and inviting. Tang Feiliu's golden hair spilled across the pillow. His blue eyes gazed up at Edward with perfect obedience. Edward reached out, gently wiping the milk from the corner of his mouth. He wiped back and forth several times, making those soft red lips appear even more vividly rosy, like ripe cherries waiting to be picked.

The sensation made Tang Feiliu feel a heat spread through his body. Only then did the duke gently lower his head to kiss his forehead, his voice husky as he murmured, "Goodnight, little Lance."

"Good night..." Tang Feiliu stared dumbstruck as His Grace the Duke walked away—what on earth had just happened? What on earth had triggered this series of actions from His Grace?!

Tang Feiliu lay awake.

He dreamt all night long, dreaming of a scarred, muscular body pressing down on him, suffocating him, writhing like a slick white snake.

Tang Feiliu thought things couldn't get any more bizarre, but the world reminded him he was still too young and had seen too little.

Could anything be more embarrassing than being caught having a wet dream?

Now Tang Feiliu could answer: "Yes, there is!"

That is: when you dream blissfully until dawn, only to be gently awakened with a warm towel. As you blinked open your drowsy eyes, the figure before you wasn't the ever-smiling, kind-hearted butler, nor your friend Jace, nor even your close colleague Ivans... but your top-level boss!

But do you think that's the peak of awkwardness?! If so, it just shows how young you are.

"Could you please step out?" Tang Feiliu awkwardly issued the expulsion order to the duke, whose expression remained gentle. But Edward clearly misunderstood Tang Feiliu's intent. He spoke softly, as if coaxing a child, "Little Lance, no sleeping in."

Tang Feiliu was mortified. Had word of his morning struggles already reached His Grace's ears? Being personally awakened by such a distinguished duke was an honor, but Tang Feiliu had had a dream last night. As he shifted slightly, he felt a dampness in his nightgown... Realizing what it might be, his face flushed crimson. He looked imploringly at Edward and stammered, "Your Grace, could you please step out for a moment? I... I..."

It was enough to make anyone cry from embarrassment.

What Tang Feiliu hadn't anticipated was that this was merely the beginning of the awkwardness. Edward completely misinterpreted the meaning behind the teary-eyed little angel's words. In his mind, Little Lance was still an innocent child. At this moment, Edward thought Little Lance was acting spoiled. He sighed softly and said, "Alright, alright. I'll carry you to wash up. You really are such a spoiled little thing. But this is the last time, okay?" "

That gentle tone, coming from someone like Edward, felt like drowning in sheer adoration. The usual Tang Feiliu might have blushed and fluttered at such words, but this time he only stared wide-eyed in terror, shouting, "No, no!"

But Edward moved too swiftly. By the time Tang Feiliu tried to stop him, Edward had already tossed aside the covers with one hand and scooped him up with the other—his hand cupping the soft fabric of Tang Feiliu's nightgown. Tang Feiliu held his breath nervously, hoping the duke hadn't felt it.

Yet the duke seemed to sense something amiss. He reached out and tugged, as if confirming something.

...Awkward. The atmosphere seemed to freeze.

"...Get out!!!" Tang Feiliu, in his first visit to the castle, disregarded protocol entirely. He shoved Edward violently, frantically kicking his own feet, and roared in fury and embarrassment!

"Alright, alright, Little Lance, calm down, calm down!" Edward carefully laid him on the bed, then raised his hands in surrender and hurried out, muttering as he retreated, "It's perfectly normal, Little Lance. It means you're growing up..."

The response to His Highness the Duke was an angry pillow hurled his way.

Tang Feiliu felt utterly humiliated, as if he could never show his face again. He hurriedly ran a hot bath, but neither the warm water nor the milk soap could lift his spirits. Tang Feiliu was both ashamed and furious—despite his usual calm demeanor, occasionally tinged with sleaziness; despite deliberately nestling against the Duke’s chest yesterday; despite his computer’s collection of premium adult content from around the world... But as a virgin who'd lived two lifetimes, the sensitive Tang Feiliu couldn't accept that after dreaming and shamefully releasing himself, Edward had suddenly embraced him—and so conveniently cradled that damp spot.

Ahhhhhhhhh... How could he ever show his face again? It was all Edward's fault! If he hadn't made those strange movements yesterday, he wouldn't have had those bizarre dreams!

Tang Feiliu felt like he was going mad. Wrapped in a towel, he emerged from the bathroom just as the duke, looking like a thief caught in the act, was placing a stack of clothes at the foot of the four-poster bed—where the footstool was meant to be. That long, bench-like piece of furniture, covered in soft padding, was designed for sitting on while putting on shoes or changing clothes.

...But that wasn't the point. The point was this man had dared to come in again!

Tang Feiliu's cheeks burned crimson. Standing frozen in place, wrapped in his towel, he was caught between a rock and a hard place. Should he storm forward and berate this man, or should he find a place to bury his head in sheer embarrassment?

Just then, Edward turned his head and looked directly at Tang Feiliu.

"Lance!" Edward raised his hands in a surrender gesture, calling softly as if startled. "Lance, don't be shy. It's perfectly normal. It means you're growing up..."

Tang Feiliu glanced at him, refusing to respond or meet his gaze. Edward pressed on, "I go through the same thing. It's perfectly normal for men."

This made Tang Feiliu feel slightly less embarrassed. He snorted and asked, "Does Your Grace experience this too? Don't nobles have their own maids from a very young age?"

Just as wealthy families in ancient Asia had concubines for their young masters, the nobility here were even more extravagant. While they lacked a formal concubine system, it didn't stop them from taking lovers. Only legitimate children could inherit property, but if no legitimate heir existed, an illegitimate child could become the successor—a practice identical to ancient Asia.

This topic now made Tang Feiliu snort in growing irritation. He glared at Edward and snapped, "What are you doing here?!"

"I was just... bringing you your clothes..." Edward held up the garments in his hands, explaining, "I thought you might not know where the dressing room is."

In truth, Tang Feiliu didn't know, but his foul mood left no room for compromise. He glared at Edward, his voice tinged with a hurt he hadn't even recognized himself: "I don't need your help!"

Edward paused, then stepped toward Tang Feiliu. His imposing presence made Tang flinch inwardly, wondering if he'd been too rude. Yet a sour taste lingered in his mouth, refusing to lift his spirits.

"Lance, I'm truly sorry. I was too rash this morning..." Edward lifted him up, carried him back to the bed, and set him down gently. He then pulled a handkerchief from his suit pocket and began wiping Tang Feiliu's bare feet, murmuring softly, "I should have respected your privacy."

Tang Feiliu watched as those rough, large hands gently cradled his feet, wiping away the moisture. As Edward held his feet, the warmth of his touch slowly warmed the coldness from walking on the floor. Edward looked up at him and whispered, "Can you forgive me, Little Lance?"

Tang Feiliu felt a pang of sadness in his heart. He couldn't help but whisper, "...I'm not angry with you."

Yes, it felt as if that pillow still lying on the floor of the room was an illusion.

But Edward smiled. A man so reserved it was frightening, when he smiled, it felt like being gently gazed upon by a powerful beast—frightening, yet filled with a profound sense of security.

Tang Feiliu bit his lip. His heart pounded so fiercely it felt ready to leap from his chest. He took a deep breath but couldn't suppress the tart question: "Your Grace, you just told me... you have moments like that too?"

"Yes," Edward murmured softly. "Don't be afraid, little Lance. There's no need to be shy. It's perfectly ordinary."

"Then how did you resolve it?" Tang Feiliu's foot was held, and he curled his toes slightly, asking uneasily yet stubbornly, "...Perhaps... could you guide me on how to do it?"

Tang Feiliu felt the hand holding his tremble slightly. Then he was enveloped in a large blanket. Edward gazed at him, his voice hoarse. "Little Lance, you'll understand when you're older. We'll talk about this later. Now, you need to get dressed. The castle needs a thorough cleaning these days. Prince Wright will be visiting soon."

With that, Edward hugged him briefly before retreating as if escaping.

Tang Feiliu watched Edward's retreating figure, his heart filled with mixed emotions—no doubt about it. With all these signs, he wasn't really a child under sixteen. Edward definitely harbored some improper thoughts toward him. He was absolutely certain! And what was even more certain this time was that this guy had those thoughts while also masochistically restraining himself... That expression struggling on the edge of desire was truly sexy!

Tang Feiliu got up to change clothes, slipping into his homemade cotton socks. As he did so, he thought, Hmm, who knew you were like this, Your Grace? Turns out you're a foot fetishist too.

Then he thought... What to do? Though the Duke really did look a bit too muscular and intimidating, he was undeniably sexy and made one's mouth water!

In modern times, such a prime specimen would likely have the younger guys in the scene tearing each other apart just for one night of passion. But this was the Middle Ages, an era where religion was at its most brutal and terrifying.

Yet... beyond mere looks or physique, Tang Feiliu found himself captivated by the Duke's tenderness and restraint beneath his formidable presence. These moments of gentleness and self-control—where such power seemed so deeply attuned to his feelings—made Tang Feiliu's heart race even faster.

Yes, it was heart-fluttering.

Duke Edward remained unaware that, throughout his internal struggle, he had already captivated his prey.

Yet Tang Feiliu was lost and bewildered—torn between his own stirrings and dread for the future. On one hand, this path in this era, within the harsh confines of the Templar Order, was far more than merely difficult. On the other, though the duke harbored an almost undeniable fascination for him... who could say if this man's restraint stemmed from a desire to return to the straight and narrow? To marry a woman, perhaps?

Tang Feiliu was tormented by his own imaginings, growing increasingly restless. Edward visited his room punctually every day, watching him drink milk, wash, and sleep, personally waking him each morning... Tang Feiliu genuinely began to suspect Edward was playing some kind of nurturing game—raising him up for some purpose.

And clearly, Tang Feiliu's body was being nurtured into better shape—his complexion grew rosy, his physique matured—leading to increasingly frequent dreams. Yet the Duke himself appeared utterly composed— —of course, Tang Feiliu was unaware that during this period, due to the difficulty of drying spring clothes thoroughly, Ivan, as his personal valet, had thoughtfully instructed the maids to prepare extra sets of undergarments and nightwear for the Duke. But the more Tang Feiliu thought about it, the angrier he became. He felt both furious and wronged, wondering why he alone had to endure such workplace harassment?

Thus, that evening, after exchanging goodnights with Edward and watching him leave with the candlestick, Tang Feiliu—now without any dry undergarments or nightgown—simply tossed aside his bathrobe. Sliding naked into the silk bedding, he drifted into sweet sleep, fueled by a desire for revenge and thoughts of Edward's expression the next day.

Author's Note:

Edward: ...Little angel, are you sure this is a good way to get revenge? I'll give you one second to reconsider.