FMY 18

In truth, although he did not think much of purity or anything of the sort, it was a piece of metal he would not mind wearing on that hand every single day when he recalled how useful it had been.

Even today, whether it was at the dressmaker’s shop or the jeweler’s, the scent of pheromones was overflowing everywhere he went. He knew that showing off by releasing one’s own pheromones was a characteristic of this aristocratic society, but it was truly tiresome.

The omegas did it to exude their charm, and the alphas did it for the sake of competition among themselves. Everyone seemed so desperate to release their body scents.

‘But he didn’t seem to know much about it….’

Raphael recalled Serge from earlier today, who had not noticed any of the surrounding pheromones at all.

The subtle pheromones of the noble lady they encountered at the dressmaker’s, the seductive pheromones of the attendant who brought them tea at the jeweler’s…. It seemed not that he was aware of all those situations and simply did not care, but that he was completely oblivious to them.

Just like the rumors from their private school days, it seemed to be true that he was a recessive omega who had presented late and was also exceptionally insensitive to the pheromones of others. He was the complete opposite of Raphael in constitution.

Recalling the day’s events, Raphael scrubbed his body with the still-warm bathwater.

The mint-based fragrant oil his attendant had mixed into the bathwater released its scent more strongly with the friction.

‘Yes, a pheromone similar to this….’

Peppermint with a hint of a green apple scent.

From the very beginning, what had allowed him to distinguish a person named Serge d’Arthur from among the others was his pheromone scent, which was similar to this. That pheromone, which had been so faint that it was almost unnoticeable even during the tremendous moment of ‘presentation’….

Raphael rested his neck comfortably on the edge of the bathtub, closed his tired eyes, and quietly reminisced about their boyhood.

That turbulent midpoint between childhood and adulthood, yet that summer when, thanks to their large and superior physiques, they vaguely exuded the air of an adult.

It was when they were leaving the school’s riding grounds.

〈That gloomy guy, he’s still walking around like that these days.〉

The large boys, who were past the age of 16, paused as they were throwing off their sweat-soaked riding gloves and opened their mouths. They were looking at a figure passing through the courtyard between the buildings in the distance.

〈Who? Ah, you mean Serge?〉

〈Every time I see that bastard, I just want to get rid of those stuffy glasses. I don’t think they even have a prescription.〉

〈He says he wants to cover his ugly face. Just leave him be.〉

The boys watching Serge chuckled amongst themselves as they each put away their riding tack.

〈That’s right. Look at him, still the same even after summer vacation. Does that guy even see the sun?〉

Raphael let his friends’ words flow past him and quietly shifted his gaze. To Serge, who had skin as white as a corpse, as if he had grown up without ever seeing the sun, just as they had said. He was the epitome of a person who lived a solitary life, shunning human relationships and sports.

Perhaps if he were not the eldest son of the ducal Arthur family, the most influential powerhouse in the Blanche Kingdom, they would not even have known of his existence.

The Arthur family, the wealthiest and most powerful of the only four dukes in the kingdom. His faint presence was solely due to that surname. That was how insignificant Serge was, with a bland impression, let alone charm, within the private school where individuals overflowing with their own unique charms had gathered. Even though it was not clearly visible how he actually looked because of his shaggy hair that covered half of his face, the boy Serge strangely had such a faint impression.

〈He’s probably holed up in his room reading books. Look at all those books in his hands.〉

〈Maybe he’s trying to become a scholar. You know, right? That guy’s secondary gender.〉

〈Ah, yeah. I heard he’s an omega.〉

At those words, the young marquis Ingelger, who was walking beside Raphael, asked in surprise.

〈An omega? I thought he was a beta until now. We were in the same class, but I’ve never once smelled his pheromones even when passing by him!〉

〈That’s because you’re just a regular alpha.〉

The boys, who joked around comparing each other by secondary gender, nudged one another with their muscular arms. It seemed suitably boyish, and with the added freshness unique to their not-yet-fully-grown adolescence, even that looked like a very refreshing and youthful page from their youth.

〈That’s part of it, and he’s probably a recessive omega. Besides, I heard somewhere that it’s top secret, but apparently he’s not just recessive, but extremely recessive. I think I heard he was raised almost like a beta.〉

〈Aha, so that’s how he was able to come to this school?〉

〈Probably so.〉

The aristocratic private school they attended was predominantly composed of male betas and alphas.

It was rare for an omega to even enroll, and even if they did, it was common for them to withdraw around the time of their secondary sexual characteristics developing and their secondary presentation when pheromones began to emerge in earnest.

That was because it was obvious that an incident would occur if they failed to properly manage their pheromones amidst a group of adolescent alphas who lacked self-control, or if a heat cycle-like rut came upon them. Noble families, who preciously manage omegas who are born more rarely than alphas, took such preemptive measures.

Not just on the continent, but every country generally had a similar perception and culture.

In a noble family, an omega child was no different from a precious resource. They were important assets who would give birth to successors with superior traits to carry on the lineage and continue the family’s power for generations to come.

A person with a secondary gender would almost certainly give birth to another with a secondary gender. And betas, even if they had a child with a person of a secondary gender, would only give birth to betas. While rare exceptions existed, it was literally a minuscule probability. Most noble families did not want to take such a risk. So, it was common for omegas to be carefully protected and raised within their families when it was time for their secondary presentation.

In other words, sending them to a boarding private school like this was rare.

‘An omega….’

Raphael quietly watched Serge’s back as he disappeared around a corner and vaguely thought that he was indeed not very omega-like, as his friends had said. Most of the omegas he had seen at the royal court were delicate and small. And sometimes, they would go around leaving an unpleasant trail of pheromones….

Thinking of those cloyingly sweet omega pheromones, he felt his mood sour for some reason and grimaced.

〈It’s scorching hot, let’s hurry inside.〉

Someone urged them to quicken their steps, which had slowed while they were talking and watching the omega disappear between the buildings. The boys, as if forgetting what they had just talked about, once again moved on, chattering noisily about other topics.

He thought that would be almost the first and last time that a person named Serge d’Arthur would even slightly cross his mind.

However, the event that left a bigger impression on Raphael’s mind happened after that, just a few hours later. It was the incident where he first learned of that pheromone, which was perhaps a little shocking.

Mr. Bernard’s class was one of the classes that the young Raphael disliked the most.

It was because Sir Bernard, who showed extreme loyalty to the royal family and tried to achieve greater success by any means, would annoyingly mention Raphael in every class.

He would call on him to answer questions, never fail to praise his older brother, the Crown Prince, and would only spew ardent praise for His Majesty the King, making no attempt to conduct the class normally. Answering appropriately and moving on was fine once or twice. It was utterly exhausting as he did it every class.

So, Raphael, knowing that Mr. Bernard, who was so busy flattering the royal family, would never dare to lower his attendance score, would often skip class.

This day was another one of those days.

Raphael was lying in the tall grass on a small hill behind the school. A long foxtail grass, with its fluffy tip, swayed towards the sky from between the young alpha’s lips.

He liked this feeling of being alone and detached at this time when everyone else was in class. That was why Raphael preferred to settle down and lie here, in a close place where the school buildings were in full view, rather than in a faraway place or his dormitory room.

The peaceful and dazed sensation did not last long.

Someone burst out from between the buildings, exuding the distinct body scent of a person with a secondary gender. The keen pheromone-detecting ability of a dominant alpha picked it up agilely, even though there was a considerable distance.

‘A guy who releases pheromones at school….’

Perhaps a rut came on suddenly. Raphael tried to think of it as nothing serious.

And it was natural to do so, because not only the fourth-years who were now sixteen like Raphael, but all the students packed into those traditional, stately buildings were in their adolescence, a time of experiencing intense secondary presentations.

The school would often be in an uproar with various incidents, such as a school nurse rushing out due to a sudden presentation someone experienced without knowing, a student being carried to the infirmary on someone’s back, or in severe cases, a student being taken away by their family, who would come to say they would take care of them now.

So, it was a daily, yet not-so-daily, occurrence for small commotions to arise due to secondary presentations or a boy’s failed attempt to control a rut. Raphael saw this as one of those cases as well.

Usually, the kids who ran out in the middle of class like that, leaking pheromones and staggering, unable to control their bodies from the heat, were students experiencing a presentation nine times out of ten.

Fortunately, that poor student was still able to walk on his own, so he would be able to go to the infirmary himself and get a prescription for suppressants. After that, he would probably be holed up in his dormitory room alone or his family would come and take him away. Until the presentation pains ended and he could control his pheromones normally.

With those thoughts, the boy Raphael spat out the foxtail grass he was holding in his mouth and shrugged.

‘Huh? The infirmary isn’t that way…?’

The observer’s eyes widened at the student’s unexpected course of action. Raphael watched as the tall student’s figure staggered and headed in the wrong direction. For some reason, he could not take his eyes off him.

Thump.

Then, witnessing the figure collapse completely, headfirst onto the ground, he shot up without realizing it. Raphael, with his long legs, instantly ran towards the one who had fainted. Why he did that is still a mystery. Was it simply due to the devout teachings of the parish that one must help the weak and the sick? Or just basic human decency?

Or, if not that…….

〈Hey, hey! Get a hold of yourself!〉

The student who had been staggering on the small path connecting the buildings had collapsed. Raphael supported his head and lightly tapped his cheek.

‘Huh, this guy…?’

It was Sir Serge d’Arthur.

Coincidentally, the person who had collapsed was the very same individual who had been the topic of conversation among his friends just a few hours ago, that very omega. His body was now burning hot with presentation pains.

‘A rut? No, a heat this intense must be a secondary presentation. Wait, but this is an omega’s pheromone?’

In fact, that was a point of confusion even as he had unknowingly run towards the fainted person.

A unique pheromone that seemed neither alpha nor omega. It was too delicate to be an alpha’s, and he did not feel the sense of repulsion he would as a fellow alpha. But then again, to be an omega’s, Serge’s pheromone was not their characteristic sweet scent.