The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL]
Chapter 195 - Set course to Gia

Chapter 195: Chapter 195 - Set course to Gia

With the medicine now firmly in his grip, Bian felt the tension that had gripped his chest for weeks slowly start to lift. There was no reason to linger here anymore—not on this ruined, dangerous planet, not with his goal so close at hand. He turned toward Dican, his expression lighting up with genuine excitement for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Dican," he said, almost breathless, "let’s go home... to your home."

Dican’s eyes softened. That word—home—carried a warmth that reached deep into his heart. "Yes, my love," he murmured, gently cupping Bian’s cheek before kissing his forehead.

The flight back to the hovering mothership was smooth, quiet even. Bian sat next to Dican in the cockpit, his fingers brushing over the glowing container that held the precious Grayling medicine. He couldn’t stop smiling. Finally. He would be safe now—powerful, even. He had Dican. He had everything.

As their craft pierced through Earth’s hazy atmosphere and breached the outer shell of the Farian mothership, the sight that greeted them was awe-inspiring. The hangar bay doors opened like massive wings, and inside waited rows of Farian crew members, bustling with energy. Lights bathed the place in soft hues of blue and violet. The moment their ship settled, the boarding ramp lowered with a hiss.

A tall Farian man hurried forward with an eager grin. "Your Highness!" he called out joyfully. His long coat swayed as he walked briskly toward them. "We thought we lost you. But Eren informed us you were attempting to remain undercover, so we pulled back all the search teams. You had us worried. What were you doing out there, anyway?"

He clapped Dican heartily on the back.

Dican let out a soft chuckle. "Well..." He reached back and pulled Bian closer by the waist, resting a proud hand on his hip. "I had a mate to protect."

The man’s smile faltered slightly.

Bian blinked.

"This is my mate," Dican announced, his voice rich with pride as he looked down at Bian like he was the most precious thing in the universe.

There was a beat of silence.

Then, a few soldiers exchanged brief glances. One of them—an older officer with gray streaks through his pale blue hair—stared at Bian for a second too long. His brows drew together subtly, as if something didn’t add up. Bian noticed. He felt it like a cold breath on the back of his neck.

"...T-this is your mate?" the tall Farian asked carefully.

Dican nodded without hesitation, completely unaware of the tension building around them. "Yes."

He tightened his hold around Bian’s waist, smiling like this was the happiest moment of his life.

But Bian wasn’t smiling.

The way they looked at him—like they were trying to remember something—sent alarm bells ringing in his head. His chest squeezed, and his pulse quickened. Why... why is this man staring at me like that... does he know something?

Bian’s eyes darted between the soldiers. They weren’t smiling anymore. Some had schooled their faces into polite neutrality, but others still looked... puzzled.

And one—just one—kept glancing down at Bian’s hands. His Farian hands.

Bian curled them into fists behind his back.

A creeping anxiety clawed up his spine. They know. Or at least... they suspect something.

But Dican didn’t seem to notice. He looked down at Bian with a warmth that could melt stone. His thumb gently rubbed circles into Bian’s side, and his expression was so open, so full of love, that for a moment, Bian felt sick.

Because he realized something horrifying: If they ever turn on me... Dican might still defend me.

And what scared him even more was the opposite possibility.

What if even Dican starts doubting me too?

So Bian smiled—tight-lipped and wary—and leaned slightly into Dican’s side. He forced himself to look composed, graceful even, as if nothing was wrong.

But inside, his thoughts were spiraling. I need to be careful. I need to find out who that man was. What he knows. I can’t let them suspect me... not now. Not when I’m this close.

And yet, even as his mind raced, he kept smiling.

Because the only thing more dangerous than being hated... was being doubted.

Bian clutched Dican’s hand tightly, as if it were the only anchor keeping him from unraveling in this unfamiliar place. His fingers trembled around Dican’s, his knuckles white. He gazed up at the taller Farian with tears welling up in his eyes, the edges of his fear leaking through despite his best efforts to appear composed.

Dican leaned down, his voice soft, almost soothing as he pressed their foreheads together. "Don’t be scared, love. There is nothing to be scared of here," he whispered gently, wrapping his arms around Bian’s small frame. "These are your people now."

Bian didn’t respond. He just buried his face into Dican’s chest, letting his trembling breath slow as Dican lifted him off the ground with ease—holding him in his arms like one would cradle a fragile child. His embrace was warm, secure. Around them, however, that warmth wasn’t shared.

The soldier who had spoken earlier scratched the back of his head, his face creased in thought. As soon as the couple turned the corner and disappeared from sight, the soldier tapped into the private communications channel designated for off-duty chat. His fingers flew across the device, typing quickly.

"Eren... did you know that the Second Prince’s mate looks just like our Third Prince? It’s... kind of creepy..."

There was no reply.

The soldier frowned, confused, but before he could type more, he was summoned to fall back in line with the others trailing behind the second eldest prince. They obeyed, though the silent glances and exchanged murmurs spoke volumes. The halls of the mothership felt tighter than usual, as if every eye turned toward them and lingered a moment too long. Bian noticed it all. The sidelong stares. The slight tension in the air. It curled in his gut like a knot.

Dican didn’t falter. He walked steadily, proudly, until they reached the control room at the heart of the ship. The curved walls glowed with softly pulsing lights, the panels alive with data and star charts. He walked straight to the command chair at the center and gently set Bian down onto it, adjusting the seatbelt around him like he was tucking in something precious.

"Seat belt," he said gently, snapping it into place with a soft click. He lingered just a moment, his hand resting briefly on Bian’s cheek.

Then he turned to face the control crew.

"Now," Dican said, his voice regaining the sharp authority of command. "Set a course to Gia."

A quiet thud echoed as a few of the crew straightened up in their chairs, startled.

One of the more senior officers stood from his station hesitantly. "Y-Your Highness... General Xing Yu is still on Earth. And your younger brother... shouldn’t we wait for their return? They may wish to return to Gia with us—"

Before he could finish, Bian subtly reached over and squeezed Dican’s hand.

It was barely noticeable, just a small signal, but it was enough. Dican’s entire demeanor hardened in an instant.

"No," Dican snapped, eyes narrowed. "Listen to my orders. Set a course to Gia. Now."

The room froze. The tension turned sharp and palpable.

"W-we should get confirmation from the General before—"

"Am I your Prince," Dican roared, "or is he?"

The words struck the crew like a whip. No one dared speak further. The authority in Dican’s voice, the glare he cast across the room—it crushed the last of their hesitations.

One by one, they dropped to their knees, heads bowed low.

"Yes, Your Highness!"

The order was given.

Lights blinked. The engines thrummed. A low, powerful hum vibrated through the floor as the navigation array came to life. The mothership’s hull glowed brighter, stronger, as it began to ascend from its invisible orbit above Earth. With a surge of energy, it shot into the sky—faster than sound, faster than thought—vanishing into the dark expanse of space.