The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL]

Chapter 327 - Kiss and make up

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Chapter 327: Chapter 327 - Kiss and make up

The detention wing beneath the western palace was quieter than Dican expected.

He had already replaced the guards outside Nansich’s cell with men personally loyal to him. Officially, it was because Nansich was considered dangerous and required additional security. In reality, Dican was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with how conveniently everything had fallen into place.

Someone had poisoned him.

Someone had apparently planted the exact same substance in Nansich’s room.

Until Dican understood why, he wasn’t going to leave Nansich surrounded by guards whose loyalty he couldn’t guarantee.

"Nothing happens to him," Dican told the four soldiers stationed outside the corridor. "No one enters without my permission. Food and water are inspected before they reach him. If anyone asks to move him, even someone from the royal family, you contact me first."

The captain bowed. "Understood, Your Highness."

Dican walked farther into the detention wing.

He heard Nansich before he reached the cell.

"I already told you I don’t want the fucking food!"

One of the guards standing nearby looked exhausted. "Lord Nansich, it has been inspected."

"By who?"

"The royal kitchen."

"That means absolutely nothing to me!"

Dican almost smiled despite himself.

The guard noticed him and immediately straightened.

Nansich followed his gaze.

His expression darkened.

"Oh, fuck off."

Whatever small amusement Dican had felt disappeared.

Nansich was sitting on the narrow bed inside the cell, one leg drawn up, his forearm resting across his knee. He looked unharmed, thankfully, although his hair was a mess and his expression suggested he’d spent the last hour imagining increasingly violent ways to escape.

Dican stopped outside the bars.

Nansich stared at him.

Then he laughed bitterly.

"What? Come to see whether your dangerous human prisoner has started confessing?"

"No."

"Then leave."

"Nansich—"

"Don’t fucking ’Nansich’ me."

He stood abruptly.

The guard beside Dican shifted, but Dican lifted a hand, stopping him.

Nansich came directly toward the bars.

"You stood there and watched them drag me out of my own room."

"I know."

"You know?"

His voice rose.

"I told you that thing wasn’t mine. I told all of you! But your precious husband starts crying and suddenly I’m some jealous bastard trying to murder you because apparently I’m secretly obsessed with him."

Dican winced.

Nansich laughed again, furious.

"And you actually asked me if I liked him!"

"I shouldn’t have."

"No shit!"

Nansich gripped the bars.

"Bian is a fucking bitch. There, I’ll say it again. He’s a manipulative, two-faced little bastard who can cry whenever someone looks at him wrong, and somehow everyone around him immediately loses half their brain."

Dican remained quiet.

That seemed to irritate Nansich even more.

"Do you know what pisses me off most? I don’t even want you!"

Dican’s eyebrows lifted slightly.

Nansich pointed through the bars at him.

"Don’t make that face. You know exactly what I mean. You’ve been chasing me around this palace like a horny dog while I’ve been telling you to leave me alone, and somehow I’m the one trying to destroy your marriage?"

A guard coughed suspiciously behind Dican.

Dican glanced over his shoulder.

The man immediately looked at the wall.

Nansich continued, "I’ve threatened you with a sword. I punched you after you kissed me. I’ve told you repeatedly that I don’t want anything to do with this mate bullshit. What part of that sounds like a secret plan to get closer to your husband?"

"None of it."

That stopped him.

Nansich’s anger didn’t disappear, but his expression shifted.

"What?"

Dican stepped closer to the bars.

"I said none of it."

For once, there was no teasing in his voice. No flirting either.

"I believe you."

Nansich stared at him.

The silence stretched between them.

Then Nansich narrowed his eyes.

"What game are you playing?"

"I’m not playing one."

"Bullshit."

"Nansich."

"You arrested me."

"I made a mistake."

"You make a lot of those."

Dican couldn’t argue with that.

He looked down briefly before reaching through the bars.

Nansich immediately glanced at his hand suspiciously.

Dican gently caught his fingers.

Nansich stiffened.

"What are you doing?"

Dican didn’t answer.

He simply held his hand.

There was something strangely reassuring about the warmth of it. Real. Solid. Unlike the memories Dican had spent the last several days desperately trying to understand.

He raised Nansich’s hand and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles.

Nansich’s eyes widened.

"What the fuck—"

Before he could pull away completely, Dican leaned toward the bars and kissed him.

It was brief.

Barely more than a touch.

But Nansich froze as if Dican had struck him.

Dican pulled back first.

Nansich remained completely still for another second before jerking away.

"What is wrong with you?!"

His shout echoed through the detention wing.

Dican’s guards suddenly became fascinated with everything except the two men.

Nansich wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at Dican as though he’d finally confirmed the prince was insane.

"I’m in prison because of you, and your response is to come down here and kiss me?!"

Dican almost smiled, but the weight sitting in his chest stopped him.

"I trust you."

Nansich’s hand slowly lowered.

Dican met his eyes.

"I don’t know who poisoned me yet. I don’t know who put that container in your room. The evidence points toward you, and I can’t ignore that. But I also can’t ignore everything that doesn’t make sense."

Nansich’s expression became more serious.

Dican continued quietly, "You didn’t know what Grayling sap was. You’ve only been on Gia for a few days. You’ve never approached me willingly, and you’ve made your feelings about Bian painfully clear."

"Good."

Despite himself, Dican smiled faintly.

Nansich noticed and scowled.

"This isn’t funny."

"No."

Dican’s smile disappeared.

"I’ve asked my own men to guard you. No one is allowed to move you or give you anything that hasn’t been inspected."

Nansich looked toward the soldiers outside.

Understanding slowly replaced some of his anger.

"You think someone might come after me."

"I don’t know."

Dican hated how often he’d been saying those words lately.

"But someone put that poison in your room. Until I know who, I’m not taking chances."

Nansich studied him for a long moment.

Dican looked exhausted. The dark circles beneath his eyes had deepened again, and there was none of his usual shameless confidence. For once, he wasn’t standing there proclaiming that fate had chosen them or trying to drag Nansich into another unwanted embrace.

He simply looked lost.

Nansich’s anger faltered despite his best efforts.

Then he remembered the kiss.

His gaze dropped involuntarily to Dican’s mouth.

Heat crawled irritatingly up the back of his neck.

Fuck.

That was unnecessary.

More annoyingly, it hadn’t been entirely unpleasant.

Nansich immediately became angry about that too.

"You’re still an asshole."

"I know."

"And if you kiss me without asking again, I’ll break your nose."

Dican’s expression softened.

"All right."

Nansich hesitated before approaching the bars again.

"Then prove it."

Dican looked at him.

"Prove I didn’t do this. And find whoever actually poisoned you."

Something tightened in Dican’s chest.

He nodded.

"I will."

Nansich held his gaze for another second before turning away.

"Now get out."

Dican raised an eyebrow. "Already?"

"Yes."

"I thought we were having a moment."

Nansich grabbed the nearest pillow.

Dican wisely stepped away from the bars.

"Get the fuck out, Dican!"

The pillow struck the bars as Dican turned away, and for the first time since learning that five years of his life might have been stolen from him, a genuine smile briefly touched his face.

Behind him, Nansich sat heavily on the bed and pressed a hand over his mouth.

His heart was beating much faster than it had any right to.

"Fucking lunatic," he muttered.

The insult lacked some of its earlier conviction.

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