Fallen General's Omega (BL)
Chapter 137: Motherly duty

Chapter 137: Motherly duty

In a luxurious restaurant overlooking the shimmering waters of Vitra’s port city, Thorne sat at a table adorned with fine china and crystal glasses, waiting with a sense of unease. The air was filled with the enticing aromas of gourmet dishes and the low hum of conversations, but his mind was elsewhere, tangled in thoughts of Noelle and the relentless search for answers.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and a hush fell over the room as a striking older woman stepped inside. She exuded an undeniable grace, her presence commanding attention. Her raven black hair was intricately styled, showcasing the elegant curves of her neck and the delicate features of her face. But it was her eyes—deep blue and piercing—that drew Thorne in; they were the same shade as his, echoing the familial bond that tied them together.

He watched as she surveyed the restaurant, her gaze scanning the room until it landed on him. A moment of recognition flickered between them, and she moved with confidence towards his table, her every step a testament to her poise.

As she slid into the seat opposite him, Thorne felt a mixture of emotions swirling within him. There was a sense of comfort in her familiarity, but also an undercurrent of tension.

*

"I didn’t think you would show up," I say to her. Celia, my mother, sits across from me, still a striking beauty. Time hasn’t taken much from her; her raven hair remains lustrous, and her blue eyes still carry that glimmer of confidence that must have charmed many. It’s clear her looks played a role in her ascent to becoming a duchess in Vitra, which is why I’m here, seeking her help.

"It’s a little hard not to show up when you made sure to send the letter knowing my husband and family were around," she replies, her tone casual yet laced with the tension that underlies our relationship.

"Because I need your husband’s authority, not yours, Celia," I say bluntly, cutting to the heart of the matter. I can see her face tighten at my words.

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as if to stave off a headache. "This is not a conversation we should have in public," she says firmly, rising from her seat. I follow her, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me.

We make our way to a fancy inn or hotel across from the restaurant. I observe the way she’s treated by the staff—each bow and courteous smile underscoring her status as a duchess.

Once we reach a VIP room, we settle at a table opposite each other. The atmosphere is awkward and stiff, It takes me back to childhood memories, bittersweet and nostalgic. Most would assume I harbor resentment toward Celia for leaving me with the Robbens, but the truth is, I don’t. I understand the choices she made; she put herself first, and for that, I don’t hate her. From the looks of her new life, she has succeeded. Had she stayed, she would have remained in that brothel or become a concubine, enduring the worst of fates. She made a better life for herself, and I can’t fault her for that.

"Honestly, you’d have to convince my husband," she says reluctantly, her voice faltering.

"Celia, I’ve seen you work your magic on men before. You must have this man eating out of your palm, you’re a duchess. Don’t you think you owe me this much, Mother?" My words hang heavy in the air, laden with desperation I can’t hide.

At that, she sighs again, but then her composure shatters. She breaks into loud sobs, and for a moment, I’m taken aback.

In a few seconds, an older man in his fifties rushes into the room. He’s a large figure, with tan brown skin and white hair that stands in stark contrast to his complexion. This must be Duke Remiro, one of the founding families of Vitra, and a member of a supernatural lineage. Unlike me, who got lucky with telekinesis, supernatural abilities are not as rare as in Aspen here. The Remiros are known for their power to control water and ice, their heritage a source of immense respect in Vitra.

As he approaches, he enfolds Celia in his arms, offering comfort as her sobs begin to wane. I can’t help but watch the scene, a mix of emotions swirling within me. It’s difficult to judge the man, knowing that if Noelle were in her position, I would move mountains to ease his suffering. Only Celia is the best actress ever, this must be a part of her plan.

After a moment, Celia finally collects herself, her tears drying, and Duke Remiro turns his attention toward me. His sharp gaze pierces through the remnants of my anxieties, leaving no room for pretense.

"Thorne Alden, right?" he says, extending his hand toward me.

I take his hand, feeling the strength in his grip, and nod respectfully. "A pleasure to meet you, Duke."

His eyes narrow slightly as if sizing me up, perhaps searching for signs of the desperation that has driven me to seek out his family. I can feel the weight of the moment, the significance of this meeting, as the atmosphere shifts.

"You’ve inherited your mother’s appearance; you truly are her son," Duke Remiro remarks, his gaze steady on me.

I remain silent, unwilling to engage in what feels like pointless small talk. The weight of the situation hangs heavily in the air, and I can feel my resolve hardening.

"Clearly, my beloved, your bloodline is potent, because our twins also bear your likeness," he continues, a hint of affection creeping into his voice. I know about those twins—Leona’s relentless research has unearthed every detail. Duke Remiro has three children now: his first son from his late wife and the other two from Celia.

"It must be important that you’re here after all these years," he says, scrutinizing me with suspicion.

"Don’t you think she’s at fault for not searching for her son for over a decade?" I retort, my voice sharper than intended. Celia flinches at my words, a quiet sob escaping her lips. Duke Remiro instinctively tightens his hold around her, and I have to restrain the urge to roll my eyes.

"What are you here for?" he asks, his tone tight and guarded, like a fortress wall ready to repel any unwanted intruder.

"Don’t worry, I’m not here to ruin your precious family," I assure him, though my patience is wearing thin. "As I mentioned in the letter, I need your help. Surely, you wouldn’t deny your wife the chance to fulfill at least one motherly duty."

"What is it?" he presses, his eyes narrowing slightly, evaluating my intentions.

"My pregnant Omega husband was kidnapped, and the trail leads to Vitra," I confess, the weight of those words crashing down on me like a tidal wave. The admission sends a shudder through my body, but I force myself to regain composure.

"So, what do you need? Money? An army?" Duke Remiro asks, his skepticism palpable.

"I know this meeting was arranged on short notice, and you’ve had no opportunity to investigate my background," I reply, my voice steady.

"But I have more riches than I can ever spend, and I also have my own men—essentially a figurative army at my disposal."

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