Cael kept his head low as he rode through back roads and forgotten paths, avoiding every patrol, every checkpoint, every familiar shadow. The cloak he wore hid his face, but it couldn't hide the exhaustion dragging at his body.
By the time he saw the towering gates of the Blackthorn Dukedom, the sky was fading into a dusky violet, and the scent of rain clung to the wind.
The guards at the front saw him and hesitated.
Not because they didn't recognize him—but because they did.
They stared in disbelief.
The man the devil twins had been restless, moody, and terrifyingly quiet without... had arrived.
One guard scrambled to his feet and ran.
"To the princes!Tell them—he's here!"
⸻
Cael dismounted slowly, his legs trembling slightly as he looked up at the dark fortress ahead.
peace was no longer an option.
And if he had to be caged...
At least here, the twins liked him.
⸻
The double doors opened with a heavy groan. Black marble floors stretched ahead, silent and cold. Servants bowed from the shadows, wide-eyed and whispering to each other as he passed.
And then—
He saw them.
At the top of the grand staircase, dressed in matching black coats with silver trim, stood Eryx and Viel.
Older? No.
Just dressed like princes now.
But their faces—the same. Pale. Beautiful. Devastating.
Red eyes locked onto him.
Neither spoke.
Not for a moment.
They just stood there, staring.
And then—they moved.
⸻
Viel reached him first.
He didn't say anything. He simply threw himself forward, arms locking around Cael's waist like a chain, burying his face against his chest.
"...You came," he whispered. "You really came."
Cael's arms moved without thinking. He cradled the boy against him, guilt and relief twisting in his stomach.
"I said I would," he murmured.
"You lied."
"I know."
"You left us."
"I know."
"I hate you," Viel mumbled. "But I'm glad you're here."
⸻
Eryx approached more slowly, but his smile was terrifying in its quiet intensity.
"You made us wait," he said softly. "We counted every hour."
Cael looked at him. "I didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice," Eryx replied, stepping close, his eyes locked onto Cael's. "You chose us. And now you're here. That's all that matters."
And then, without warning, he wrapped his arms around Cael's shoulders and pulled him into a tight, almost suffocating hug.
"You're never leaving again."
⸻
Cael stood still in their embrace, his throat tight.
He had come here to be safe.
But now... surrounded by their warmth, their trembling breath, their hands clutching him like he was a lifeline—
He realized he wasn't safe at all.
He was theirs.
And they had no intention of letting him go.
Cael stood before the grand hall's table, facing the twins seated like little monarchs on high-backed velvet chairs. Eryx was chewing something sweet with a bored look; Viel was doodling silently on the edge of a parchment with a feather pen dipped in black ink.
Cael cleared his throat.
"I want to apply for a position," he said.
The room fell silent.
The steward, the butler, the maids, the knights—everyone around him suddenly turned ghost-white.
Eryx raised an eyebrow. "A position?"
"Yes." Cael crossed his arms, trying to keep his voice firm. "I don't want to freeload here. I can fight. I'm good with a sword. I'd like to join the dukedom guard. As a knight."
Viel stopped scribbling. His red eyes snapped to Cael, wide and immediately disapproving.
Eryx's playful smile dropped.
"No."
Cael blinked. "What?"
"You might get hurt," Viel said quietly.
"That's war," Cael replied, exasperated. "Knights get hurt."
"You're not allowed to get hurt." Eryx's voice sharpened dangerously, his fingers tapping the table. "Your hands are made for cooking. Hugging. Tucking us in. Not bleeding in a battlefield."
"I can take care of myself," Cael argued. "I did just fine before—"
"But you weren't ours back then."
The entire room flinched at the word ours.
⸻
Then, unexpectedly, the steward stepped forward.
"Actually," he coughed gently, "there is a... a position we had in mind."
Cael turned. "Oh?"
The staff exchanged looks. Maids quietly edged toward the walls. One knight slipped out the door entirely.
"Well," the steward continued, voice rising nervously, "given how the young masters... respond to you, and how you're the only living person who has survived more than a week of personal interaction with them... we believe the most logical role would be—uh—"
Cael stared.
"—a nanny."
Silence.
Utter, choking silence.
"...A what."
⸻
"A nanny," the steward repeated, a little faster. "You'd, ah, oversee their schedules, supervise their meals, calm their tempers, keep them from murdering tutors or staff."
"I'm not even a woman!" Cael shouted, half in disbelief, half despair. "Do I look like a nanny to you?!"
"We were thinking more along the lines of a royal caretaker," the butler offered helpfully. "A guardian, if you will. A companion. A handler."
Cael turned to look at the knights—only to find two had backed into a corner and were quietly pretending to be furniture.
He looked at the maids—who immediately avoided his eyes like prey spotting a predator.
He glanced at the butler—who, bless his heart, just looked relieved not to be volunteered.
Cael's eye twitched.
"I'm going to die in this place."
⸻
He turned to the twins.
Eryx was grinning. "I like that idea."
Viel nodded solemnly. "Nanny Cael."
"Don't call me that," Cael snapped.
"Nanny Cael," Eryx repeated, louder.
"Nanny Cael!" Viel chirped.
Cael groaned, covering his face with both hands.
But then he sighed.
"I'll do it," he muttered. "Not because I want to—but because apparently, I'm the only thing standing between this entire household and total annihilation."
The staff applauded quietly in the background.
One maid burst into tears of joy.
The twins beamed like children handed candy.
And Cael—former bastard noble, swordsman, peace-seeking gardener—was now officially the nanny of two bloodthirsty monsters.
Unwillingly.