The heavy door to the nightmare room opened with a low creak after he hurriedly pulled his clothes back together.
Noel looked up immediately, his heart still pounding from everything that had happened in the dark. Light from a lantern in the corridor poured in, cutting through the shadows and making him blink. The two attendants who had brought him here earlier stood waiting, their faces neutral, hands clasped behind their backs.
"Time's up, my lord," one of them said calmly. "You can come out now."
Noel pushed himself to his feet slowly. His legs felt weak, not because he was scared, but because his body was still tingling from all the touches on his skin and the heat that hadn't fully faded yet. He took a steadying breath and glanced down quickly as he stood.
Something small caught the light near his shoe.
He bent down casually, picking it up before the attendants could see. It was smooth in his palm... a thin silk band. He slipped it into his pocket without a word and straightened up.
"This way, please," the attendant said.
Noel nodded, forcing a small and polite smile onto his face. He stepped into the corridor, and the door closed firmly behind him.
The walk back to the main hall felt surreal, as if he were moving through a dream. The noise grew louder as they approached... voices, laughter, glasses clinking.
When he stepped into the grand hall, the room went quieter for a moment. Heads turned to him. Then applause started, building quickly into cheers and whistles. Men clapped him on the back as he passed, calling out congratulations, laughing about how he had survived the famous Nightmare Game.
Noel smiled wider, bowing his head in acknowledgement, waving lightly. He was glad he had taken a minute in the room to button his trousers properly, tuck in his shirt, and smooth his hair. No one could tell anything had been different.
If they had seen him five minutes earlier with his clothes open, marked skin... they would have known.
Rowan appeared at his side almost instantly, pushing through the crowd with a tight expression.
"Are you all right?" Rowan asked quietly, voice sharp with concern. His eyes scanned Noel quickly, looking for any sign of injury.
Noel met his gaze, cheeks still a bit warm from everything.
"I'm fine," he said lightly, almost playfully. "It was... more interesting than I expected."
Rowan opened his mouth to say something, but the host approached before he could.
The man carried a small velvet box and presented it with a flourish.
"For facing the nightmare so bravely," he announced loudly enough for nearby guests to hear. "A small token from the club."
Noel opened the box. Inside was a bottle of fine red wine, the label expensive, the glass heavy and dark.
"Thank you," Noel said sincerely, closing the box. "It's very generous."
The host clapped him on the shoulder and moved on to mingle with others.
Rowan leaned in closer as they started walking toward the exit. His eyes had dropped to Noel's neck... just below the collar, where the skin was slightly red from fingers that had held on too tightly.
Rowan's face hardened.
He knew what that mark meant. Someone had touched Noel roughly enough to leave evidence. And Rowan, who had been outside, was unable to stop it.
If Lord Alaric heard about this, he would make sure Lord Hartwell found out too, and Rowan would be blamed for not protecting him properly.
Noel noticed Rowan's stare but pretended not to. "Ready to leave?" he asked casually.
"Yes," Rowan replied quickly. "Let's go."
They made their way out amid more cheers and good-natured calls. The cool night air hit Noel as they stepped outside, helping clear his head a little.
The carriage ride home was silent at first.
Rowan sat across from him, back straight, hands on his knees, staring out the window. Noel could feel the tension coming from him.
Finally, Rowan spoke. "What happened in there?"
Noel looked up sharply. His face heated again without warning.
"Nothing important," he said, rubbing his forehead like he had a headache. "Really. It's just... the usual game."
Rowan watched him for a long moment, then turned away. "If you say so."
They didn't talk for the rest of the ride.
When the carriage stopped at the mansion, Noel climbed out first. He paused at the door and looked back at Rowan.
"Go to your quarters," Noel said quietly. "Get some rest."
Rowan frowned. "My lord, shouldn't you report to the butler? Or your father? If something..."
"Report what?" Noel cut in gently, tilting his head. "I'm tired. I have a headache. I just want to sleep."
He turned and walked inside without waiting for a reply.
Rowan stood there for a minute, confused.
'Why isn't he complaining? Why is he trying to protect me from the consequences?'
.
Inside, Noel hurried up the stairs to his room. He closed the door firmly and leaned back against it, sliding down until he sat on the floor.
His breathing came faster now that he was alone.
He closed his eyes, remembering.
The three men, the voices in the dark, the hands pulling his clothes open and the mouths on his skin.
His body heated again just thinking about it.
He pressed a hand to his chest and winced slightly as the skin there was sensitive, nipples still tender from teeth and fingers.
He stood up quickly, crossing to the mirror. He stripped off his coat, then his shirt, letting them drop to the floor.
The reflection showed everything.
His chest was flushed pink. Both nipples were red and slightly swollen. There were faint marks on his neck... fingerprints, almost, from where hands had gripped. Lower, on his collarbone, a small bite mark.
He was sure it was not going to be permanent. It won't last more than a day or two.
But clear enough.
Noel stared at himself. He should feel violated. He should be angry.
Instead, his stomach tightened with want. He wanted to feel it all again.
"I wouldn't mind going back," he said quietly to his reflection.
The words surprised him, but they were true. He went there to get someone to notice him and he got noticed by three men.
Then he remembered what one of them had whispered at the end.
'Next time you try to make our princess cry...'
Princess? He tilted his head trying to remember what kind of person would be called...
Evelina Ashford... his ex-fiancée?
His brow furrowed.
Royal connections? No, the Ashfords were noble, but not royalty.
But "our princess"... that had to mean Evelina. They were protecting her.
Noel reached into his pocket and pulled out the silk band he had picked up.
It was a small name tag, the one that was worn on the wrist for identification at the club.
He turned it over.
One side had the name—Arthur Ashford—printed neatly.
Noel's breath caught.
'Ashford. It's definitely Evelina's family.'
The three brothers he had heard so much about—Arthur, Bennett, Cedric.
Three voices in the dark. Three sets of hands.
It all fit perfectly.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the tag.
They had done this because of Evelina. To scare him away from the engagement.
Shock should have hit him.
Or maybe disgust.
Instead, a slow heat spread through him again.
He stood and looked in the mirror once more, touching the mark on his neck lightly.
"Since I have nothing to do with their sister," he said slowly, "I can have something to do with one of them."
His mouth curved into a small smile. He traced the fingerprint mark with his fingertip.
"There's no way I would want it to end there," he murmured.
"I want them closer."
He turned away from the mirror, mind already turning over possibilities.
"...But how," Noel murmured, eyes gleaming, "do I make them come to me? Or how do I meet them?"