Chapter 139 Eyes with dreams [1]
Chapter 139 Eyes with dreams [1]
"Why was I dragged here?"
As we stood together in front of a big gate, a grumbling voice echoed beside me, making me glance at Chubby.
"Come on, I paid for your ticket," I replied as the gate opened up, and the guard saluted me.
"And why did you do that?"
he groaned in frustration, walking behind me. "Paying five times the usual price for a teleportation portal wasn't necessary."
"But that's the fastest way we could reach Polarral Earldom," I shrugged, looking around at the garden along the only road that led to the mansion.
"But we had classe—"
"I talked with the principal. He gave permission, now shut the fuck up."
He meekly nodded as I spat, glaring at him.
But then again, he wasn't wrong; we skipped half of today's classes just to be here.
'Three o'clock.'
Taking out my phone, I looked at the time. We can go back to the academy before curfew, which will be at ten tonight.
"Did you inform anyone?" I asked, glancing back at Chubby, who nodded.
"I informed my mother, just in case," he replied, still keeping his distance.
I shrugged, messaging Christina and Ashlyn.
They are the only one who will be concern if I go missing.
'This should do.'
Keeping the phone back in my pocket, I looked ahead where an old man in a butler suit stood in front of the mansion's main door.
Right behind him, a row of maids stood systematically, their eyes stealing glances at me.
As we paced closer, they all bowed in unison before the old man spoke, "On behalf of our Earldom, we welcome you, the heir of the Aljanah Dukedom."
I gently nodded my head, asking, "Where is Oliver?"
"I will lead the way," the butler replied, stepping aside and gesturing for me to come in.
The maids made way, and the main door opened as we walked in.
The first thing that came into view was stairs leading downwards.
The butler moved, and we followed him.
"Does Oliver live in the basement?" Chubby mumbled softly, looking at the main hall a floor below ground level.
The old butler replied pridefully, "It's an intriguing design made by the firs—"
"Is Uncle home?" I asked, interjecting his boasting.
"Ahem, Master was with Her Highness, the First Princess, when he got news of Young Master's awakening," he replied with an awkward look. "He should be back anytime now."
"I see," I mumbled as we reached another floor down from the ground where two rooms were adjacent to each other.
The butler gestured toward the door before bowing and moving away.
Knock knock.
I rapped my knuckles on the door twice.
"The door's open." Nôv(el)B\\jnn
I twisted the knob and walked in, with Chubby behind me.
"Az!?"
Oliver exclaimed, his lips curling up in a smile as he lay on the bed, his eyes dull from exhaustion.
"Still alive?" Grinning, I asked as I walked closer.
"Barely," he replied, his eyes drifting toward Chubby. "Thanks for coming, Seth."
"Why didn't you come when I woke up, fucker?" I looked to the side where Aimar sat on a beanbag, cursing at me.
"Why are you still alive?" Frowning, I asked as I stood close to Oliver's bed.
"Biased, fucker," he cursed again, eating a bowl of chicken lollipop.
"Can you stand up?" I asked, looking at Oliver.
"Yeah." He nodded softly, getting up, and I helped him stand.
As soon as he stood up, I occupied his bed, comfortably laying down as I ordered him, "Go sit on the chair."
"..."
He looked at me dumbfounded before his face turned red.
He spat, sitting on the chair, "Fucking bitch."
"Why are you eating chicken?" I asked, looking at Aimar, who was gloating at his brother sitting beside him.
"Oh, the doctor prohibited Oliver from eating chicken," he replied, savoring the lollipop right in front of him. "Damn, this is juicy."
"I hope you fall butt-first on a thick, straight steel pipe," Oliver grumbled, glaring at his brother. "Better yet, I hope you fall on Az's steel pipe."
"Ew," Aimar groaned in disgust. "I'd rather die—"
"—by getting choked on his steel pipe?" Grinning, he interrupted his words.
"Oye, dumbass, I am right here," I spoke, annoyed. "And stop talking about my pipe."
"What pipe?" Chubby asked, blinking, sitting on the table beside them.
"Trust me, brother, you don't want to know," Oliver replied, shaking his head.
"How are you guys?" I asked, shifting to my side, sinking into the mattress to get a better look at them.
"I'm fine, just some fractures on my back," Aimar replied, shrugging. "I woke up weeks ago."
Oliver looked confused as he asked, "Wait, how long was I out?"
"Twenty-one days," I replied, looking at him. "Three weeks have passed since that day."
"It's been so long, huh?" He mumbled, nodding his head slightly.
"How are you?" I asked again.
"Can't say I'm fine," he replied, letting out a tired sigh. "My head feels like it will burst open."
"What about your health?" I asked, observing him from head to toe. "You've lost a lot of weight."
He nodded without replying as he was deep in thought.
An awkward silence followed, with only the sound of Aimar munching echoing in the room.
"By the way," Oliver mumbled, glancing toward Chubby, "how is your mothe—"
BAM!!
His words were interrupted as the door burst open, startling us.
"Oliver!?" A middle-aged man exclaimed, looking at the bed only to find me.
Another awkward silence followed as I gently got up from the bed.
"Your sons are too polite, Uncle," I mumbled sweetly as Oliver walked toward him.
"Hey, old man," he spoke, grinning as his father wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly.
"Thank God you're safe," he mumbled earnestly, patting his back with a smile.
"What's going to happen to me, old man?" Oliver replied as I stood close to Aimar and Chubby.
"Hahaha, of course," Paul laughed, separating from him as he helped him sit on the edge of the bed, glancing toward us. "You have friends with you, huh?"
"We just arrived, Uncle," I smiled. "We were worried about him."
"I saw that, Azariah," he smiled back. "You even checked if his bed was comfortable or not."
"..."
I should just keep my mouth shut.
"Dad," Oliver mumbled, his voice filled with expectation. "Did Mother come for a visit?"
He parted his lips to reply, but his words died in his mouth.
"Why bother asking about that woman?" Aimar said, no speck of care in his voice. "She doesn't care enough to visit—"
"Aimar." Oliver glared, making him click his tongue.
"Anyway, Oliver, you never told me you were dating the Vespertine family's youngest daughter,"
Paul playfully slapped his shoulder, making us all confused.
"Since when?" Oliver asked, dumbfounded.
"Huh? What do you mean?" His father replied, equally dumbfounded.
"She lied," we all looked at Aimar as he clarified. "You wouldn't have let her stay at our house and take care of Oliver if she hadn't."
"Huh? How long did she stay?" Oliver asked, looking at him.
"Four days."
"Wait, why didn't you tell me then?" Paul fussed, glaring at him.
"It was fun," he replied, shrugging.
"...."
...No, there is definitely a different reason.
Did she threaten him?
"But she does like him, right?" Paul concluded, looking back at Oliver. "What do you say, son? Should I talk about engageme—"
"No," he denied instantly.
"Why?" Paul pressed further, looking at me. "Ask Azariah; he is happily engaged."
"Yes, I am happily... Um... moderately... No, scratch that... I am, I am just engaged."
I fumbled, earning a glare and a thumbs-up from both of them.
"How long are you going to deny—"
Before he could continue, his phone rang as he brought it out of his pocket.
He looked at the number before turning serious, "It's the First Princess. I need to take this call."
"Sure," Oliver replied, shrugging.
"I will probably talk in a few hours," Paul smiled, squeezing his shoulder before walking out of the room.
"...So, what now?" Oliver asked, looking at us. "You guys came in the middle of classes, right?"
"Pretty much," I replied, walking towards him before lying down on the bed again. "I was planning to return before curfew."
"So, we still have like six hours?" Aimar chimed in. "What should we do then?"
"Hmm, Oliver."
"Yeah?"
"You have a bike, right?" I asked as I stood up from his bed.
"Yeah, what about it?" Frowning, he questioned back, tilting his head.
I smiled as I proposed, "Let's go for a ride."
"I'm in!" Aimar shouted, standing up from his seat, placing the bowl down.
"Me too," Chubby also nodded his head in agreement.
"But wait," Oliver stood up, frowning, "we're four people and only one bike. How are we going to fit?"
I let out a silly smile, and looking at me, both brothers also smiled.
"Oh god, no."
And seeing us smiling like madmen, the blood drained from Chubby's face.
THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM