Chapter 72: In laws
Noelle sat slouched in his chair, half-heartedly listening to Oliver’s attempts at coaxing him to socialize. He had no desire to entertain such notions. The drawing room was peaceful, the air warm and still, the perfect place to spend his day.
"Come on, Noelle," Oliver said for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice laced with encouragement. "I know it sounds exhausting, but you’ve got to get out a little. Network, make some connections. As much as Thorne probably doesn’t care, you’re his consort now. You should take on these minor things."
Noelle sighed, slumping further into the chair, unwilling to budge. Can’t an Omega spend his days tending to his plants and his nights with his Alpha? My etiquette lessons are done.
Noelle thinks to himself until-
The doors to the drawing room burst open with a loud, echoing slam, interrupting Noelle’s half-hearted protest. The sound made Oliver flinch, his sentence left unfinished.
Noelle’s head snapped up, irritation flashing in his eyes, but it quickly turned into cold indifference as he assessed the intruders. Standing in the doorway were two men, one younger, bearing a self-satisfied smirk, and the other older, with features that vaguely resembled Thorne’s. Both men exuded an air of arrogance, as if they owned every space they entered.
Noelle’s mind clicked into place—these men had to be Thorne’s estranged family. The resemblance was there, faint but undeniable. His husband had told him more than once that his looks came from his mother, a woman that works in the night, famous for her beauty. Noelle could see the truth in that now, looking at these two. They lacked the striking allure that Thorne possessed, and the good looks, and charm it’s like Thorne was down graded several several several times.
He made no move to stand or acknowledge them, though Oliver hastily scrambled to his feet, bowing deeply. As the son of a count, it was his duty to show respect to the higher-ranking nobility. But Noelle remained seated, his back straight and his gaze fixed on the unwelcome visitors, offering no such courtesy. Should he bow too? A fleeting thought crossed his mind, but he dismissed it just as quickly. Thorne had made it clear: these people were not his family.
The younger man, Sevian Robben, sauntered in, taking a seat with a lazy smirk playing on his lips. The duke, Thorne’s father, followed suit, his cold, scrutinizing eyes sweeping the room before settling on Noelle with disdain.
"Well, dear ’sister-in-law,’" Sevian began with mocking sweetness, "it’s practically impossible to meet you." His tone dripped with condescension, as though addressing someone beneath him.
Noelle’s jaw clenched at the insult. ’Sister-in-law.’ The phrase was a deliberate jab, a petty insult. For centuries, male Omegas had been considered burdens, lesser beings in an Alpha-dominated society, and certainly not regarded as equals to Beta or female Omegas when it came to fertility. The use of female pronouns for male Omegas had been a common way to degrade them, a reminder that they weren’t ’real’ men. Sevian’s choice of words was nothing short of a statement, a way to imply that Noelle wasn’t worthy of masculine titles or respect.