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Chapter 5: I'm Not Suspicious, You're Suspicious
"Hell," Kaito muttered, pulling the hood lower. "This looks exactly like something out of a manhwa."
He stared at himself in the mirror, deadpan. Black cloak, oversized hood, and the kind of slouchy body language that screamed....just something not good.
The cloak had been fancy, originally. Silver embroidery along the sleeves, a crest stitched across the back like a rich kid's personal flag. So, obviously, he'd spent twenty minutes hunched on the floor with a pair of sewing scissors, snipping every thread like he was trying to hide his internet history.
The results were... janky.
Some of the ripped threads were still dangling. It looked like he'd mugged a noble's laundry line and then rolled downhill.
But hey, it covered him. Especially his hair.
The hair was the real problem.
Long, silver, pretty in the way. One glimpse of that, and people would confirm he is a noble because most commoners had brown hair.
He'd shoved it all under the hood. Tightly. It itched. He didn't care.
He turned sideways in the mirror. "Yep. Perfect. I look like I'm about to commit either a minor crime or full-blown treason.....which might not go as planed but who knows"
He moved to the desk, reached for the vial sitting there, and paused.
Just looking at it made him wince.
One small glass bottle. One faintly glowing drop inside. Slightly cloudy.
Saliva.
Because of course, when trying to fund your escape from a BL game world, the first thing you do is bottle your own spit.
'I was just sarcastic'
"It was this or the other stuff," he mumbled defensively, even though no one was in the room.The thing on stake was his dignity or chastity.
He'd written a label, too. Folded paper, taped on the viel qith cursive.
"Mana × Healing Potion"
It wasn't a good name. He wasn't proud of it. But it got the point across. And, importantly, didn't say " bottle of healing spit " on the front.
He tucked it carefully into a cloth pouch inside his cloak. Patted it once. Felt like a criminal.
"Okay," he whispered. "Don't be weird. Just go, sell the it, get some coins, save it and Later escape.
It was just after eight. Most of the family would be locked in their rooms pretending to be human. The east wing would be quiet. He'd eaten dinner early and stayed out of sight.
Everything was going to plan.
Which, naturally, meant something was about to go wrong.he wished it was just his wish full thinking.
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He opened the door slowly.
The hallway was empty. Soft candlelight. Quiet footsteps down at the far end. No one near.
He exhaled. Carefully shut the door behind him.
The hall in his wing was underused. Fewer maids. Less staff. Mostly because no one really cared about Aurelian unless he was actively dying. On normal days, it was depressing.
Tonight, it was a tactical advantage.
He crept along the wall, hood pulled low, cloak rustling quietly around his ankles. When he reached the corridor junction, he peeked around the corner like he was in a bad spy movie.
Empty.
He smiled a little. "Road's clear," he whispered.
And then—of course, because karma's a bitch—a hand landed on his shoulder.
He screamed.
But not, like, loudly. More like a hickup when a handsome man drive you to a corner and your pants feel tight.
"—ekkkkkkk!"
A voice behind him, calm and familiar, said:
"Aurelian. What are you doing here?"
Kaito froze.
Eyes wide. Heart sprinting. Brain already building twenty excuses and throwing them all in the trash.
He turned his head very slowly.
Please be a servant. Please be a servant. Please be—
Oh.
Nope.
It was his brother.