70. Causes of Scent

Like a magnet drawn to steel, Klaus found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, staring endlessly at Antonio, who was still leaning against his hand in a deep slumber.

The unguarded expression on Antonio’s face and his slightly parted lips caught Klaus’s gaze, and his deep navy eyes darkened with intensity.

What am I even thinking, staring at someone sick like this…? And a man, no less—a man who claims he doesn’t feel such emotions toward the same gender.

The thought that he was no different from Denver, whom he had just thrown out, filled Klaus with a wave of self-loathing. Yet, even as his mind battled with guilt, his eyes refused to stop tracing every inch of Antonio’s face.

He wanted to claim those lips, to lay himself over Antonio, to keep him entirely for himself. He wanted to consume him, trap him, make it so Antonio could never escape his grasp.

The surge of desire clashed violently with a deep sense of shame, and Klaus gritted his teeth as the intensity of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

This is Antonio’s fault. It’s his fault for lying here so defenseless. His fault for smelling like this.

If having him meant forsaking the entire world, Klaus thought, he might still make that choice.

Klaus’s muscles tensed as he fought the urge to act on his emotions. His entire body was taut, trembling with the effort of restraint. Then, as if he had reached the limit of his patience, a harsh exhale escaped him.

He gazed at Antonio’s serene face, filled with an uncontrollable hunger. If only he could have him, he’d give up everything.

And yet, the other side of his mind nagged at him with the possibility of rejection—what if Antonio came to hate him? The thought of such disgust in Antonio’s eyes was unbearable.

His trembling hand rose, brushing softly against Antonio’s cheek. As if sensing the touch, Antonio stirred, his warm breath brushing against Klaus’s palm.

Wait—warm?

Klaus’s eyes narrowed as he noticed Antonio’s flushed cheeks and the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. Leaning closer, Klaus finally realized that Antonio’s breathing was shallow and uneven.

His heart leapt in alarm, and Klaus straightened abruptly. “Is anyone there? Summon the physician, now!”

His shout echoed down the halls, rousing the entire household. Jeffrey, Claucet, Melda, Alejandro, and even the drowsiest of servants stirred to life.

The physician, who was dragged from his quarters at an ungodly hour, arrived to examine Roselia, whose fever was burning high.

Under Klaus’s piercing, murderous glare, the physician dabbed at the sweat on his own brow nervously.

“I… I cannot determine the cause. Aside from the high fever, all other vitals are normal.”

Klaus’s brow furrowed deeply. “A high fever isn’t normal. What’s the explanation?”

The physician hesitated before offering cautiously, “Has the patient been under significant emotional stress recently?”

“Yes, they have,” Klaus admitted grimly.

“Then, it could be a psychological condition,” the physician suggested.

Klaus’s expression grew heavier. Between the incident with Count Bernas and Nadia’s death, it seemed plausible that Antonio had been emotionally overwhelmed.

As Klaus brooded over the possible causes, the physician suddenly paused, glancing around the room with a frown.

“Did someone light scented candles in here? The aroma is… overpowering. It might be best to ventilate the room.”

Klaus stiffened at the remark. So he wasn’t the only one who had noticed. The sweet, heady fragrance in the room was so strong it bordered on disorienting.

Yet Claucet and the maids seemed unaffected, their expressions merely puzzled.

Following Claucet’s instructions, one of the maids opened a window to let fresh air in. Watching her, Klaus was suddenly struck by something the crown prince had once said about the Raphelios bloodline:

“Do you know that they emit a unique scent?”

This wasn’t the smell of candles or perfume—it was clearly Antonio’s natural scent. Considering how much Antonio was sweating, it was even less likely to be a lingering perfume.

And the scent had grown increasingly intense since Antonio fell ill.

Could Antonio be of Raphelios blood?

The thought that the Marquess of Euciliod, a known member of the Raphelios line, might have answers sprang to Klaus’s mind. Without hesitation, Klaus shot to his feet, grabbing his jacket.

Alejandro, watching his master’s sudden movement, asked cautiously, “Your Grace, where are you going?”

“I’m going to see the Marquess of Euciliod.”

“At this hour?”

“The sun will rise soon enough. It’s a reasonable time,” Klaus replied flatly.

Who visits someone first thing in the morning?

Alejandro swallowed his retort. He knew all too well that Klaus, once he made up his mind, would see things through to the end.

* * *

Before dawn, Klaus rode his carriage at full speed to the imperial guest palace, demanding an audience with the Marquess of Euciliod.

Johannes’s aide, Lognan, greeted the duke with a bewildered expression. After a brief hesitation, Lognan excused himself to relay the message, returning shortly to lead Klaus to the drawing room.

Johannes was already seated at the table, impeccably dressed despite the early hour, as though he had anticipated the visit. As Klaus silently took a seat across from him, Johannes greeted him with a smooth smile.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning visit, Your Grace?”

Klaus, his urgency outweighing decorum, got straight to the point. “Is Antonio of Raphelios blood?”

Johannes’s eyes widened momentarily, but he quickly schooled his features, staring at Klaus intently. Klaus’s frown deepened at the lack of an immediate answer, and his voice grew sharper, betraying his impatience.

“Antonio has been burning with fever since yesterday and hasn’t regained consciousness. There’s also a scent—emanating from him. I suspect it might be connected to his condition.”

Johannes listened calmly, his gaze thoughtful. Lowering his eyes, he spoke carefully. “From your description, it’s highly likely Antonio is indeed of Raphelios blood.”

Hearing his suspicions confirmed, Klaus’s face stiffened. It felt implausible, but at the same time, it explained so many unanswered questions.

Was Roselia also of Raphelios blood?

If so, the similarity in their scents made perfect sense.

As Klaus’s thoughts churned, Johannes continued, his voice steady. “And based on Antonio’s symptoms, it seems he’s on the verge of what we call ‘blooming.’”

“Blooming?” Klaus echoed, his frown deepening.

“Think of it as a rite of passage for those who carry the Raphelios scent,” Johannes explained patiently. “I should see his condition myself. If it’s acceptable, shall we head to your estate immediately?”

Klaus hesitated, still grappling with questions, but Antonio’s state left no room for delay. He nodded curtly, and they set out without further discussion.

***

When they arrived at the ducal estate, Klaus ignored the greetings of the staff and led Johannes directly to Antonio’s room. The moment they entered, a dense, sweet aroma hit them, causing Johannes to halt briefly. His expression grew serious as he approached Antonio, who lay pale and feverish on the bed.

Looking down at Roselia, Johannes’s face softened with pity. Had circumstances been different, she could have undergone proper training at the Marquessate and faced this process with far less suffering. Blaming himself for his shortcomings, Johannes reached out, gently brushing her hollowed cheeks as he examined her condition.

Watching from behind, Klaus ground his teeth, his hands clenching into fists. Though Johannes was merely checking on her health, an inexplicable rage bubbled within Klaus, twisting his expression. It reminded him of the jealousy he’d felt when he saw Roselia with Johannes before.

Unaware of Klaus’s inner turmoil, Johannes turned back to him and spoke solemnly. “She’ll fully bloom within the next day or so. Listen carefully to what I’m about to say.”

Klaus forced himself to calm down, nodding stiffly.

“Blooming is most intense at night,” Johannes explained. “During that time, no one must enter the room. No matter what you hear, under no circumstances should anyone step inside.”

“Why?” Klaus asked, his brows furrowing again.

“During blooming, the person cannot fully control their consciousness or their scent. That scent, as you’ve likely noticed, can be overwhelming to ordinary people. For everyone’s safety, Antonio must remain alone.”

Recalling the disorienting effects of Antonio’s scent the previous night, Klaus agreed, nodding firmly. “Understood.”

“I’d like to examine him further,” Johannes said, his tone polite yet firm. “Could you give us a moment?”

Klaus’s eyes narrowed, suspicion and reluctance flashing in his gaze. “Must I leave?”

Johannes met his eyes steadily, his calm demeanor tinged with mild exasperation, as though questioning whether Klaus was truly jealous under such circumstances.

Klaus cleared his throat, muttering, “Be quick about it,” before stepping outside.

Once Klaus had left, Johannes took a seat on the chair by Roselia’s bedside, gently clasping her hand.

“Cecilia,” he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. “Listen closely. When it feels like your chest is burning, don’t hold it back. Don’t try to suppress it—release everything.”

Although she was unconscious, he spoke as if willing the words into her mind. His voice was steady, calming.

“If you let the scent trapped in your chest flow out, the pain will ease. Don’t be afraid. Let go of everything. You’ll endure this, Cecilia.”

Watching her labored breathing with a pained expression, Johannes leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“When the time comes, I’ll come back for you. Just hold on a little longer, Cecilia.”

With those parting words, he rose and left the room.

Outside, Klaus was standing with his arms crossed, impatience etched into his features. Johannes gave him a polite nod. “I’ll take my leave now.”

“Is it safe to leave her like this?” Klaus asked, his voice tense.

“The pain of blooming is something he must endure on his own,” Johannes replied. “Typically, this process occurs around adulthood, but for Antonio, it’s delayed. The pent-up energy makes it more painful.”

The mention of heightened pain made Klaus’s face twist in distress. “What about painkillers?”

“They won’t work,” Johannes said firmly. “Medicines can’t dull this kind of pain.”

Hearing that there was nothing he could do for Antonio caused Klaus’s expression to crumple in anguish.

Johannes observed him for a moment before speaking evenly. “I would prefer to stay by his side, but…”

At those words, Klaus’s face darkened with fury, his expression tightly controlled but clearly brimming with anger.

 

 

 

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡ ⋆

☕ Hi, friends! Your support means the world to me. If you’d like, you can buy me a coffee here: Click the link on the image! 💖

Thank you for keeping me inspired! 🌸

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆