Fallen General's Omega (BL)
Chapter 94: Void

Chapter 94: Void

Before I can muster up the courage to climb up after him—or, you know, surrender—a soft chuckle interrupts my thoughts. I whip my head to the side and feel my heart skip a beat. Standing there, looking effortlessly graceful and ethereal, is none other than the General’s consort, Noelle. He’s dressed in a long-sleeved pink shirt, the soft fabric complementing his delicate features. Honestly, even the color pink bows in submission to his beauty.

I feel my face heat up as I quickly drop into a bow. "G-Greetings, my lord," I stammer out, trying to sound composed despite the fact that I probably look like a flushed, ruffled mess. My hands are shaking slightly from the adrenaline of chasing Grape—or maybe from standing in front of Noelle himself.

He waves away my greeting with a casual flick of his wrist, a gentle smile playing at his lips.

"No need for that, Tessa," he says, his voice warm and calming. "It seems Grape’s giving you a hard time again."

I straighten up, forcing myself to relax. "He always does, my lord," I say with a sheepish grin. "I think he enjoys making me run in circles."

I’m always in awe of his presence, captivated by the way he carries himself. Noelle moves with an effortless grace that seems almost otherworldly. It’s hard to believe he was once a commoner. There’s an inherent aura about him—a regal confidence and a poise that I swear is reserved for someone of noble birth.

As he stands there, his soft features illuminated by the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves, he radiates an elegance that commands attention. His every gesture is fluid, as if choreographed, and the way he engages with the world around him—whether it’s a gentle smile or a kind word—only enhances this impression. I can’t help but think that he could easily fit in among the highest echelons of society, mingling with lords and ladies, yet here he is, in the company of a mere maid and a plump bird.

Noelle chuckles again, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glances up at Grape. "He certainly has a mischievous streak, doesn’t he?" His gaze shifts back to me, and for a moment, I can’t help but feel like I’m standing in the presence of some celestial being. His aura is just... otherworldly.

I manage a nervous laugh. "That’s one way of putting it, my lord. He’s quite the handful."

Noelle steps closer, his presence radiating calm. "You’re doing a wonderful job with him, Tessa. I know he can be difficult, but the General and I trust you completely with his care."

I find myself mesmerized by Noelle as he walks away, his movements so fluid and graceful that he seems to glide rather than walk. Each step he takes through Mr. Hobbs’ garden makes it feel as if the very ground is celebrating his presence. It’s as if the flowers and plants respond to him, blooming just a little brighter, their colors more vibrant, as though they thrive on the energy he brings with him.

*

Noelle strolled through Mr. Hobbs’ meticulously crafted garden, the soft fragrance of blooming flowers and the rustle of leaves providing a brief, fragile sense of calm. He didn’t know where Thorne had found the eccentric gardener, but the man was undeniably gifted. The garden seemed to thrive under his care, each plant a masterpiece of nature. But even this serene beauty couldn’t quiet the storm inside Noelle.

He left Grape behind, the mischievous bird already finding some new form of amusement, and let his feet carry him deeper into the lush greenery. His heart felt heavy, weighed down by the weight of an approaching anniversary that always left him unsettled. Tomorrow was his mother’s birthday.

The thought sent a sharp pang through his chest, an old ache that never truly faded. She had been gone for so long now, since he was just thirteen, but the hole she left behind still yawned inside him, impossible to fill. Elena had been his whole world—strong, kind, and resilient in ways that no one else could ever compare. Losing her had been like losing a part of his soul, and no matter how much time passed, that emptiness never went away.

Noelle made his way to the greenhouse, the warmth inside wrapping around him like a familiar embrace. The subtle fragrance of earth and blooms greeted him as he dismissed Doris with a quiet nod, preferring to be alone in this sanctuary.

He walked deeper into the greenhouse, past rows of carefully tended plants, until he reached a secluded corner. There, half-hidden by larger greenery, was a patch of bright blue and purple flowers, their colors vibrant and almost ethereal in the filtered sunlight.

With a soft sigh, Noelle crouched beside the flowers, his fingers brushing the delicate petals. He plucked one from its stem, the soft bloom resting between his fingertips as he sat on the grass nearby. The quiet hum of the greenhouse surrounded him, a peaceful contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind.

Noelle sat quietly by the patch of flowers, his gaze distant and unfocused, as though his thoughts were miles away from the vibrant garden around him. The blossoms, swaying gently in the breeze, seemed to brighten under the sun’s gentle rays, but their beauty was lost on him. His expression remained still, unreadable, as if the serenity of the garden couldn’t reach the storm in his mind.

Doris, ever observant, had been keeping a close eye on him. Seeing his distant look, she quietly slipped away, careful not to disturb the moment. Her footsteps were quick and quiet as she navigated through the estate’s hallways, her destination clear—General Thorne’s office.

The moment she stepped inside, she didn’t need to speak. Thorne’s eyes flicked up from the documents on his desk, catching the urgency in her face. His expression darkened, concern immediately etched in every line of his features. Without hesitation, he pushed his chair back and rose swiftly, his thoughts already with Noelle. He brushed past Doris with barely a glance, moving with the surety of a man whose priorities were always set.

Roman, who had been standing nearby, took in the scene without a word. He didn’t need to ask. There was only one person who could make the General move with such intensity—Noelle. And when it came to him, Thorne never wasted a moment.

As Thorne strode purposefully through the hallways, his heart pounded with a mixture of concern and urgency. He knew something was wrong, something deeper than just Noelle’s usual contemplative nature. Whatever it was, he would face it head-on. His mind was set on one thing—finding Noelle and easing whatever troubled him.

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