[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 177: Saved from noble assault

Chapter 177: Chapter 177: Saved from noble assault

The luncheon was held at a glass-walled conservatory on the north wing of the Bellmont estate, neutral ground, technically, but nothing about the guest list was neutral. Nobles in summer linen and designer loafers milled about beneath hanging ivy chandeliers, sipping citrus cocktails with inherited ease. The air smelled of florals, polish, and power.

Lucas stood near one of the tall windows, half-listening to an elderly countess ramble about philanthropy while counting the seconds until he could bolt back to Trevor. Or even just his room. A corridor. A bush.

Cressida had abandoned him, gracefully, like a general releasing a soldier onto a battlefield, after smoothing his collar and whispering, "Try not to bite anyone too early."

Alistair was somewhere nearby, being charming on autopilot and pretending he wasn’t watching Lucas like a hawk with excellent tailoring.

"...and with your academic background, I imagine the Lorette Institute would welcome you with full honors," Lord Holland was saying, pausing just long enough to flash his teeth. "Your... reemergence has inspired quite the discourse. Some of our trustees believe you’d make a valuable addition to the private board, perhaps as a guest speaker. Or even patron, should His Grace be so inclined."

Lucas blinked. "I studied out of a textbook in a basement kitchen." He lied with too much confidence.

"Yes, but now you’re a Fitzgeralt."

Lucas sipped his drink. It tasted expensive. He wanted to throw it.

Another noble, this one younger, leaned in with far too much familiarity. "If you’re not interested in Lorette, we’d be honored to offer you a seat on the advisory panel of the Arelian Cultural Exchange. You speak several languages, don’t you? We’d of course cover the travel, accommodations, wardrobe, plus a stipend..."

"I’m getting married publicly," Lucas said flatly.

"That’s not a disqualification," the young man said brightly, oblivious or opportunistic.

Lucas tilted his head and smiled without warmth. "To the Grand Duke of Fitzgeralt."

Lord Venstrel visibly recalculated.

"Oh," the younger one said, less brightly now.

Alistair arrived like divine intervention, one hand casually slipping around Lucas’s back. "Gentlemen," he said, with all the weight of a man who’d seen too many bank ledgers and buried too many bodies, "I’m afraid Lucas is fully booked, for the rest of his natural life."

"Is that official?" Lord Venstrel asked, one brow raised.

Alistair smiled. "I filed the paperwork personally."

Lucas turned to him once the nobles dispersed like smoke. "You didn’t file anything."

"No, but they don’t know that." Alistair handed him a fresh drink. "You looked one social pleasantry away from jumping into the koi pond."

"I considered it."

"You’ll make an excellent duchess."

Lucas sighed, eyes scanning the room. "Have you heard from Trevor?"

Alistair’s smirk faded just enough to be genuine. "He’s still at the estate. Windstone says the security perimeter’s tight, and your double’s presence at court stirred things the way he hoped. Christian hasn’t made a move yet, but... he’s watching."

Lucas exhaled, quietly. "So I keep playing bait."

"No," Alistair said, squeezing his shoulder. "You keep being brilliant and terrifying in public. And let us worry about the people who don’t know the difference."

Across the room, Cressida raised her glass toward him, approval in every inch of her regal posture.

Lucas raised his in return, spine straight and smile polished, already planning the moment he could steal a phone and hear Trevor’s voice.

Preferably before someone else tried to enroll him in another elite nightmare disguised as academia.

—

The next round of forced niceties was interrupted not by divine intervention, but something much more dangerous.

A ripple passed through the luncheon crowd, subtle at first, like a wind brushing against silk, but Lucas felt it before he saw it. That distinct shift in atmosphere, the collective breath of nobles trying to decide whether to fawn or flee.

Trevor Fitzgeralt had arrived.

And he wasn’t in a hurry. No, Trevor strolled through the manicured crowd with the ease of someone who knew the names of everyone who mattered and the debt attached to each of their fortunes. The signature crest at his lapel gleamed in the sun, and he looked maddeningly refreshed, like a man who had slept, had coffee, and perhaps even committed a little light strategic blackmail before breakfast.

"Darling," Trevor said, voice low and utterly unbothered, as he approached.

Lucas didn’t even hesitate. He turned on his heel and walked straight into him.

Trevor caught him easily, one arm settling around Lucas’s waist as if this were rehearsed, like it hadn’t been over a week since they’d seen each other without a noble, a priest, or a decoy in the room.

"I was being courted," Lucas mumbled into Trevor’s collar, not even pretending to act composed anymore.

"Poor bastards," Trevor replied, completely delighted.

Behind them, Lord Venstrel was trying not to visibly combust, while two ladies from the Orelian board whispered urgently into fans that weren’t even necessary indoors.

"You smell like coffee and capitalism," Lucas added, pulling back slightly just to breathe, though his fingers curled tighter into Trevor’s jacket. "And I hate everyone."

Trevor looked far too satisfied. "That’s my boy."

Alistair raised his glass nearby. "I told you he was melting."

"I know," Trevor said. Then, to Lucas..."I brought you an out. Car’s waiting. We can disappear for a few hours."

Lucas didn’t hesitate. "Take me. Now."

"Gladly," Trevor murmured, leaning in just enough for his lips to brush behind Lucas’s ear. "You’re glowing, by the way. They’re all losing their minds."

"I haven’t slept in three days, I’m wearing cologne from a sample drawer, and someone offered me a seat on a fertility advisory board."

Trevor blinked. Then grinned. "Was it Count Rosewood? He tried that with me once. I threatened to fund his competitor."

Lucas made a noise that was almost a laugh. "You’re too good at this." NovelFire

Trevor cupped his cheek with warm fingers, thumb brushing just beneath his eye. "I’m just married. It’s very motivating."

Then, with barely a word to the hosts, Trevor turned them both toward the exit, cutting through silks, rumors, and three centuries of etiquette like a man who owned every consequence.

Lucas didn’t look back.