Fallen General's Omega (BL)
Chapter 91: Peaceful morning

Chapter 91: Peaceful morning

The light filters through the curtains, blinding me for a moment. My eyes adjust, and the soft, rhythmic snores beside me draw my attention. I turn my head and find Noelle, a satisfied smile plastered on his face, looking utterly peaceful as he sleeps. I can’t help but chuckle softly—if anyone saw him now, they’d never believe this was the same man who had me bound and begging just hours ago.

I feel worn out, in the best possible way, my muscles aching with that deep satisfaction that comes from a night well spent. As I swing my legs over the edge of the bed to stand, my body protests, my legs wobbly beneath me. The memory of last night hits me all at once, making me smile. I can barely walk straight. My body’s a testament to the night’s activities.

With a yawn, I stumble towards the bath, my mind still foggy with remnants of sleep and bliss. On the way, I bump into something solid, glancing down to see the chair. That chair. The one that held me captive under Noelle’s teasing. My body stirs with the memory, heat rising to my face, but I shake my head. No more. I physically can’t take it, not now. Not yet.

I bend down, gathering up our scattered robes and discarded clothes, my wrists stinging as I do. A dull burn lingers where the ropes had been tied, the raw marks a reminder of just how tightly I’d been bound. Rope burn. I rub the sensitive skin gently, wincing. It’ll heal in a few days, but until then, I’ll be reminded of last night every time I flex my wrists. A love-hate relationship, that burn—something that will fade physically, but not from my memory.

As I head toward the bath, I catch my reflection in the mirror. The marks on my neck and chest are glaringly obvious. Dark bruises and bite marks litter my skin, standing out against the pale complexion. I resist the urge to whistle. He’s really done a number on me. It’s as if I spent the night fighting an army of mosquitoes—giant ones at that.

Chuckling to myself, I slip into the bath and sink into the warm water, letting it soothe the aches in my body. A sigh escapes me as I lean back, closing my eyes. This is my life now. And damn, am I happy with it.

After a long soak, I dry off and decide to have breakfast delivered to the room. I don’t have the heart to wake Noelle just yet. Instead, I carry the tray of food quietly over to the bed, where my sleeping beauty still lies, completely oblivious to the world. The morning sun has crept further into the room, casting a soft glow on his face. His lips are parted slightly, and—gods above—he’s drooling just a little. It’s endearing, in a way I never expected to feel.

I pause for a moment, watching him sleep, a warmth filling my chest that’s different from the passion of the night before. This—this—is something I never thought I’d have. A peaceful morning, shared with someone who sees me, who’s willing to stand beside me, and who, despite all the darkness in my past, has somehow become my light.

I smile to myself, setting the tray down on the bedside table, and I lean over to brush a strand of hair from his face. This is my life now, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

*

While Thorne basked in the quiet aftermath of his blissful night, far removed from the chaos of the world outside, the Robben family found themselves in the depths of their own personal nightmare. The once-great family, whose name had commanded respect and fear across the empire, now sat huddled together in a dilapidated carriage, being escorted away from the capital. The air was thick with the stench of rot—both from the decaying fruits and vegetables that had been hurled at their carriage and from the overwhelming sense of despair that had settled over them.

Sevian, still unconscious and battered from the brutal events that had unfolded, lay slumped against the carriage wall. His sisters, who had once lived in luxury, their hands adorned with the finest silks, now sat in ragged dresses, their faces streaked with tears and grime. They clung to each other, sobbing quietly, as though their tears might wash away the horrors of the last few days. Beside them, the former duchess, eyes hollow and red from endless weeping, held a trembling hand over her mouth, unable to fathom how everything had fallen apart so quickly.

The ex-duke, once proud and haughty, sat across from them, head bowed and shoulders hunched. His hands, which had once wielded power with the ease of a man born to rule, now trembled in his lap. The weight of his downfall pressed upon him, his every breath labored under the shame that gnawed at his insides. He couldn’t bear to look at his family, to face the ruin he had brought upon them. Not a word had passed between them since the start of their journey, for what words could be spoken in the face of such devastating loss?

Outside, the streets were lined with onlookers, their faces twisted in sneers of disdain and satisfaction. Rotten produce continued to rain down on the carriage, splattering against its weathered wood with sickening thuds. The crowd jeered, their cruel laughter and venomous words cutting through the stillness of the carriage’s interior like knives.

"Traitors!" one man shouted, hurling a moldy apple at the carriage.

"Good riddance to the lot of you!" screamed another, his voice thick with hatred.

For the Robbens, this was a humiliation beyond imagination. Just a week prior, they had been among the most powerful families in the empire, dining with nobility and walking the halls of grand estates with their heads held high. In mere hours, all of that had been stripped away. The kingdom’s judgment had been swift and merciless, and now, they were being paraded through the capital like criminals—disgraced and discarded.

As the carriage lurched onward, the reality of their fate began to sink in. The sisters clutched each other tighter, their sobs growing louder as the walls of the city came into view, signaling their final departure. They were being banished, cast out like refuse. There would be no redemption, no second chances. Their lives as they had known them were over.