The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 60: "Just... f-**** me..."

"Your Grace, may I ask how you view that commoner?"

The hostility woven into the question made Alaric flinch.

Sylas had always been carefree around him, far more relaxed than most would dare to be in the presence of a duke.

Though Alaric had inherited the title at a young age and carried its crushing weight upon his shoulders, Sylas had never allowed that burden to isolate him. He had treated Alaric with respect befitting his rank, yet never with distance.

First and foremost, Alaric had remained his brother, not the one who inherit the title.

Sylas had made it his unspoken duty to ensure that, no matter what trials came their way, Alaric would never feel as though he bore the ducal title alone.

And yet now, hearing Sylas address him so formally with such severity in his voice and a seriousness uncharacteristic of him, Alaric felt the shift keenly. The title, once an afterthought between them, now stood firmly between them.

Slowly, Alaric lifted his gaze while regarding the twins with renewed authority. The warmth of brotherhood gave way to the composed dignity of a duke.

"Your Grace," Sylas pressed with still rigid expression as he cast a brief, distant glance toward Lyric. "May I have your answer?"

Lyric said nothing.

He remained silent, knowing that speaking now would only inflame Sylas further.

"...Did the two of you quarrel because of that commoner?" Alaric asked at last, his gaze shifting between them.

Lyric then immediately averted his eyes.

Then, Alaric let out a sharp scoff. "So, that is what this is about."

"This brat here insists on staying close to that wretch. Has he already forgotten the first time we met him? Lyric even kissed him." Sylas snapped.

His voice rose despite himself along with his brows drawn together in barely restrained anger.

"What a useless fight," Alaric said flatly while shaking his head. "I hired him because we required a healer. Nothing more."

Lyric turned on him at once. "Don’t lie, brother. If he meant nothing to you, why did you allow him to sleep in your bed? You have only ever done that with Brother Torin."

At the mention of Torin’s name, Alaric’s expression hardened instantly as he shot Lyric a sharp glare that made Lyric faltered while instinctively stepping back as he swallowed hard. "I,I’m sorry..." he murmured, casting a quick glance toward Sylas.

Sylas, meanwhile, wore a thin, knowing smirk.

"See?" Sylas said coolly.

"Did you truly believe our brother would view that wretch any differently? Commoners are all the same. They’re dirty, ambitious, and pretentious. They act meek while they need you, then bare their fangs the moment your back is turned." 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"Brother, I’m telling you that he’s different," Lyric insisted, his voice tightening. "Why won’t you believe me? If only you knew how d—"

"Enough."

Alaric’s voice cut through the argument like a blade. "Both of you. End this meaningless dispute."

He then turned sharply toward Lyric with anger now evident in his gaze.

"And you," Alaric continued coldly, "do not ever compare Brother Torin to someone of such standing or you’ll just be insulting him. Soren is merely a healer an nothing more. Once his contract ends, he will be dismissed. Lyric, I am disappointed in you. I did not expect you to place a noble person on the same level as someone born of filth."

Hearing that, Lyric’s eyes widened with disbelief etched across his face. There was not even the faintest hint of hesitation in Alaric’s words.

"Brother... how can you say that?" Lyric whispered. "I know you care about Soren. You simply refuse to show it..."

Alaric let out a short, humorless laugh. "And allowing him to sleep in my bed led you to that conclusion?" he asked coolly. "Lyric, you are reading far too much into my actions. Do not cross the line again."

Sylas nodded in agreement with his earlier tension easing as he folded his arms.

"Exactly," he said firmly.

"You’re being foolish, Lyric. Our brother is right. A commoner is still a commoner no matter how well they play their role."

Lyric clenched his fists, standing alone between the two of them as the distance he felt earlier now became undeniable.

Yet he could not place all the blame upon his brothers. In truth, what they were feeling now had once been his own only a few months ago.

If only he had not seen Soren cry in his arms while drunk, murmuring his mother’s name in his sleep as he clung to him.

If only Soren had not saved him when he was afflicted by the beast’s curse.

Had none of that happened, perhaps these feelings would never have taken root but it was already too late.

He now knew far too well how fragile Soren truly was beneath that composed exterior.

On the surface, Soren appeared strong, steady, and unyielding yet in truth, he was deeply broken while carrying wounds no one else seemed to notice.

He had no one to lean on and no one to confide in.

Despite enduring countless forms of abuse, Soren never once complained. He never cried out, never begged for mercy even when it came at the cost of his own life.

And even then, Soren remained Soren.

"I... I’m sorry, brother. Your Grace, I must excuse myself as I have something to attend to."

Lyric bowed to Alaric, something he rarely did and made both Alaric and Sylas frowned at the unexpected gesture.

As Lyric turned and began to walk away, Sylas stepped forward while trying to halt him.

"W-where are you going? Hey, brother!" he called out with frustration but Lyric didn’t even glance back. He just continued walking while leaving both brothers standing in silence.

Meanwhile, inside the Hawthorne carriage which had stopped to allow their entourage to rest, Gideon was enjoying himself thoroughly.

Inside, a small lantern’s light swung with each bump, making shadows dance on their twisted bodies.

Gideon sat on the knight captain’s lap with his legs spread wide apart.

His knees pushed against the soft seat on both sides while the captain’s big dick was deep inside him, stretching him with slow, careful pushes that matched the carriage’s shakes.

Every bump sent a mix of good and hurt feelings through Gideon’s body, making him breathe hard and grab the captain’s wide shoulders tight.

"Hngh... Ugh! Ah..." Gideon moaned while his head was dropping back against the soft wall.

His cheeks were red and hot while his shirt was partly open. His chest was also moving up and down fast, and his own dick leaked wet stuff, making things slippery as the captain moved in him.

"Uh... hngh," the captan groaned quietly as his hands holding Gideon’s hips strong while pulling him down harder on each thrust.

"I didn’t even bring oil but you’re already so wet, Young Master... You’re also leaking like you’ve wanted this all day."

Gideon’s face got even hotter hearing that, feeling shy but also really needing it. He then bit his lip to stop another sound, but the words came out anyway.

"S-stop saying that," he breathed hard. "Just... f-fuck me..."

The captain’s eyes got dark with want so he held tighter while pulling Gideon all the way down until their bodies slapped together wetly.

The carriage even shook more as he went faster. "As you wish, Young Master," he said in a rough voice. One hand went up Gideon’s back, pushing him closer while the other kept him stuck for the non-stop movement.

With each thrust, the captain drove in deep and firm, making Gideon gasp as hot waves of fullness spread through his belly, his insides squeezing tight around the thick shaft.

The slick heat built up fast, wet sounds echoing in the small space every time the captain thrust back and slammed forward again.

Gideon moaned louder, "Hngh... yes!" his skin tingling with sweat and goosebumps while his fingers are clawing at the captain’s shirt as another thrust hit just right, sending sparks up his spine that made his toes curl.

The captain grunted low, "Mmm... so tight."

He thrust again, harder this time making Gideon cry out.

"Ugh! More!"

The pressure rubbed against sensitive spots inside so Gideon’s body was trembling with every slide and stretch.

Another thrust came, deep and grinding.

"Oh... captain!" Gideon’s breath hot was against the man’s neck.

Feeling his warm breath, the captain groaned, "Fuck... you feel good," his grip bruising Gideon’s hips in the best way with the rhythm building like a storm.

With a few more hours of so-called rest, the small space was filled with their heavy breathing and the wet slide of their bodies.

Just as the captain finished shooting his cum deep inside Gideon, a soft rustle came from far away.