Page 43 of Ruined By His Alpha King
More like hide his omega son’s shame.
Seidrik buried himself in his work as the procession arrived and lost track of time, flipping one paper after another, trying to will his growing nausea away. Every day brought him closer to accepting the truth of it. He was with child.
As he leaned his head back and pinched his nose to breathe through it, his door flung open without a knock. Seidrik opened an eye and sat up as Virion shuffled in, babe in arms. The little one had grown considerably over the months since his birth, bright eyes staring at everything and grabbing for locks of Virion’s pale hair.
“Brother.” Seidrik gestured him in, fighting every urge to show his cattiness and old habits.
“Being civil, are we?” Virion’s upper lip curled. He’d not been told of what Alluin had been referring to as hismalformity.
“Quite so. Would it do you any good for me to offer an apology?”
“Probably not. I’m only here because Father dismissed me to go spend time with my sibling. I swear it’s as if he doesn’t understand I’m a critical cog in his whole kingdom’s livelihood!” Virion sat as Ahran, hisbabe, shouted out with glee in his arms while violently tugging on a lock of his frazzled hair.
Yet another reason to keep one’s hair short…
“Seems we’re both dismissed and put in the corner. I apologize for not coming to greet you, as Father hasn’t wanted me out of the castle.” Seidrik snorted and flipped a page in a ledger, studying manifests from the thalmway. It had increased his work almost threefold.
“Apology accepted on that front. Now, pass me a manifest and let me do something useful so we don’t have to speak.” Virion balanced Ahran on his knee and reached a handout in a practiced gesture.
“I’d rather we do talk, but I’d also appreciate the assistance.” Seidrik handed over a manifest and ticked a few rows off on a page before applying the royal seal.
“What would we have to talk about aside from your, frankly shocking, nuptials. Need we spirit you away, Brother? Are you forced? I may not like you, but I would hate to see you forcibly wed to someone.” Virion plucked a spare pen from his holder and gazed over a page, eyes as keen as always.
“Oh. I am unsure as to how to broach that subject. I—the wedding. I approved of it. Stamel and I are compatible. We love one another and we have already mated.” Seidrik cleared his throat.
“Oh, my goddess! You were always such a shit to me because you were jealous! Had you only told me you were of the bottom persuasion; I could have introduced you to—” Virion halted when Seidrik held up a hand and sighed.
“I’d rather not broach that particular topic with my brother.”
“You were fine to address it when you were disparaging me for my dalliances. Which, by the by, were not as prodigious or as numerous as you assumed. Like…two or three at most. Betas always. I had zero desire to ruin myself before finding someone worth marrying. Oh! Does that mean we get to watch you get bent over for the ceremony?” Virion glanced up, eyes wide, mouth moving so fast that it made Seidrik’s head spin.
“What? No! And I wasn’t there to witness your consummation. Saria and I made a point to go outside and harass the obsidian lute ducks in the font outside while that whole mess carried on.” Seidrik shuddered. “And Father is graciously not asking for me to be plowed by Stamel for an audience.”
“I suppose I should be grateful for that.” Virion huffed, and Ahran shouted at the top of his lungs at a pitch that would make a wildercat run headfirst into a wall. “Me, too, Ahran. Me, too.”
Seidrik huffed in agreement as Virion worked. Ahran, bored of the proceedings, pawed about at Virion’s tunic, jerking at the fabric in a frantic sort of way. “I suppose he’s hungry? Feel free.”
“I can step out or go find a cover if it makes you more comfortable.” Virion hesitated before Seidrik waved his hand. “Babies eat. Don’t let me hinder his dinner.”
“You must really need the help, then.” Virion adjusted his grip, tucked Ahran into the crook of his arm, opened the front of his shirt, and let the baby have at his chest with gusto. And frankly, it looked like it must have hurt, but Virion didn’t so much as blink.
“I’ve been out of sorts.” Seidrik waved his hand dismissively. “Coming to terms with myself and how much of a shit I’ve been. Er… I shouldn’t swear in front of the little one… Apologies.”
“I don’t think he comprehends swears as of yet, but I do thank you for the conscientiousness.” Virion focused on his work.
A polite knock on the door heralded an attendant bringing in luncheon. Thankfully there were alwaysextras on the cart in case of guests, but the attendant brought with her a little boy, a Liaberian child with a cupid’s bow mouth and deep-set eyes.
Staring at numbers on the page made Seidrik’s vision wobble and stomach turn, which wasn’t aided by the scent of food—more of Alluin’s bland drivel. Seidrik called out to the female attendant with a raised hand. “Leave it outside the door, please.”
“And what should I do with the child?Itsaysit’sthe blessed prince’s page,” she said with stilted hostility.
“Silver Prince, I told you. And I’m a he, not anitor athem. Are you hard of hearing or just cruel, woman?” Such a stern voice and attitude he’d never tolerated from an attendant.
“Sima, come in. You won’t find any kindness in these halls for my presence. It will always be that way.” Virion sighed as Sima skirted the woman’s place in the doorway and ran to sit beside Virion with his chin raised imperiously. From what Seidrik recalled, the omega child had lobbed a rock at Nemiah and been given a job for the effort on a previous visit.
“Quite the young page you have. Pilkie, please leave the cart out there. The child is fine if they’re with Virion.” Seidrik waved the woman off, and she sniffed and marched off as Virion glanced over his shoulder.
“She seems far less pleasant than I recall.” Virion rose from his seat and patted over the boy’s head as he craned over the edge of the desk to look at the paperwork.
