TPWTM 15

To the question, Karon lifted his chin slightly, looked at Yurik, and leaned his arm on the staircase railing as he spoke.

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t be here?”

At Karon’s brazen response, Yurik rubbed his face with a dry hand and pulled out a pocket watch from his vest to check the time.

It was exactly 11 a.m. For nobles who partied until late dawn, this was an extremely early hour.

Yurik crossed his arms and looked at Karon with a slightly annoyed gaze. Karon slowly scanned Yurik, who was visibly disheveled from exhaustion, then extended a hand. Yurik flinched and pulled his head back, but Karon’s hand reached him first.

“You look pale. Did you stay up all night?”

Karon’s hand brushed back Yurik’s messy side hair and caressed his dry cheek. His low voice murmured as if whispering.

“The lights at the administrative palace went out, but your office stayed lit until the end.”

Yurik, about to brush the hand away, paused. Had Karon been watching until the end?

With that thought, Yurik glanced at Karon, then turned his head slightly to scan the lobby hall.

Only then did the butler, servants, and maids, who had been watching, startle and quickly scatter in different directions. Yurik frowned, sharply swatted Karon’s hand from his cheek, and ran a hand through his hair.

“So you knew. Thanks to someone, I had a splendid time. I had to overhaul months of preparations in just a few hours. Budget, schedule, everything. I wonder if Lord Chevinelle has ever had such an experience…”

Yurik gritted his teeth as he spoke, then lowered his eyes. A headache surged, making his head spin. Clutching his forehead and bowing his head briefly, Karon stepped closer. The sudden whiff of his scent made Yurik lift his head and narrow his eyes.

At that moment, Karon wrapped an arm around Yurik’s waist, turned him, gently took his hand, interlaced their fingers, and leaned close to his ear.

A soft sigh was heard. Yurik froze, dazed. Karon rubbed his hair against Yurik’s nape and pressed his lips to the back of Yurik’s other hand.

Then, with half-lidded eyes, he looked at Yurik, his forehead resting near Yurik’s collarbone. Almost as if acting coy, with moist eyes, he gazed at Yurik with a tender, pleading look.

Yurik was utterly stunned.

What… what was this man doing right now…

“Yuri… I had my reasons. I could explain everything to you right now, but you probably won’t hear me out. But later, could you give me some time? I…”

“Uh, I…”

Yurik, flustered, stammered and stepped back, unable to respond properly.

Karon’s large frame, hunched over with shimmering eyes and a coy demeanor, was incredibly, in some ways dangerously, captivating.

Yurik was too flustered, stumbling over his own feet as he stepped back.

“Whoa!”

“Yuri, careful.”

Karon caught the stumbling Yurik, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close to prevent a fall, carefully avoiding his injured arm.

Leaning naturally against Karon’s broad chest, Yurik clamped his mouth shut at the overwhelming Pleonia scent. This man was hazardous.

Karon raised an eyebrow, studying Yurik’s face. He had come early hoping for a chance to talk, but even to Karon, Yurik looked exhausted and frazzled.

Maybe he should leave. As Karon hesitated, Yurik swallowed hard, pressed his lips together, turned his slightly flushed face away, and abruptly pushed Karon away. Karon’s eyes widened, and he looked at Yurik with a slightly hurt expression.

“Yuri.”

“Uh, please, just go. Ahem. There’s the banquet.”

“We can’t talk one-on-one at the banquet.”

“It’s not exactly one-on-one now either… Just go.”

“Yuri, I want to explain. Don’t you want to hear it?”

“Not now. Let’s talk after things settle down. I roughly know what happened. But… I do need an explanation for why it turned out this way. And being here could cause bad rumors for your partner, Young Lord Luches.”

“You roughly know? And why does his name keep coming up?”

At the mention of Luches, Karon’s face twisted.

Luches, Luches. Since when did he hate hearing another name from those lips? Yurik rarely called him by name, always “Lord,” but called Young Lord Luches by name.

“Yuri.”

Karon scratched his throat and called him softly. Despite Karon’s furrowed brow, Yurik averted his gaze with a slightly uneasy expression.

This was a busy lobby hall, and Yurik was in no condition to listen, too exhausted and irritable.

‘With rumors bound to spread at the banquet, I need to send Karon away…’

Deciding to deal with other matters later, Yurik sighed softly.

“Young Lord Luches visited me once. We talked alone then…”

“Alone?”

Karon’s eyebrow twitched. He couldn’t stand talking alone with Yurik now, but had met Luches alone? And claimed to roughly know the complex situation Karon wanted to explain?

Karon had his own pile of work but came to see Yurik first, certain he’d want an explanation. Their relationship demanded it.

That relationship. Yes, their betrothal for marriage.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t hide it. There was no chance to tell you.”

At Karon’s questioning and offended expression, Yurik touched his forehead. He didn’t want to bicker like this.

“Lord Chevinelle, you know, don’t you? In the Empire, you and His Highness the 1st Prince Lazhuel are the hottest topics. Everything you do becomes gossip.”

“What does that matter? I don’t care.”

“You might not, but I do.”

Karon was hurt by Yurik’s nonchalant response. Yurik knew he came despite that, yet was treating him coldly. Yurik stepped back, looking at Karon with tired eyes.

“There will definitely be talk. You know how many banquets are scheduled. If you want to be the center of gossip at every one, I won’t stop you, but I don’t. People will speculate about the relationships between me, you, His Highness, and Young Lord Luches, how they’re politically entangled, whether House Windsor has joined the Prince’s faction, or if the alliance with House Chevinelle was because we’re neutral. Why can’t you see that?”

Yurik bit his lip, recalling the buried issues behind this shocking marriage. Yes, upon reflection, problems piled up like mountains.

And Karon couldn’t be unaware of them. Seeing Yurik’s cold words, Karon’s cheek twitched. His face was utterly stern. A low, heavy voice emerged.

“Do you think I’m someone who doesn’t care about such things?”

“Of course not. Aren’t you the famous Young Duke Karon Chevinelle?”

“Yuri, I prioritize what’s important and strive to achieve it. Isn’t that part of our contract? A relationship where we give our all. Isn’t it natural to focus on that?”

“Don’t raise your voice. What if someone hears? Are you doing this on purpose?”

“…Yuri, you’re not afraid of me standing here, but you’re scared of others’ gazes?”

Karon gave a dry laugh, looking at Yurik. Yurik pressed his lips shut and met Karon’s gaze. It stirred a subtle discomfort in his chest. But Karon fell silent.

Yurik felt uneasy under Karon’s gaze, which had a tension-inducing quality. He reminded himself: Karon was a knight and a soldier. Karon met his eyes, then looked away. His angry face was cold. Yurik tensed slightly.

‘…Was I too dismissive?’

He might have spoken sarcastically without realizing. Yurik sighed, rubbing his face with a dry hand. Then Karon, gritting his teeth, grabbed Yurik’s arm, forcing him to face him.

“Is he more important than our situation?”

“…What are you talking about?”

“Luches. Is he more important than our situation? Are you scared of being gossip fodder at the banquet? Are you that afraid of people’s nonsense? We’re engaged, Yuri. You seem to be forgetting that.”

“…Karon, you’re worked up. And I haven’t forgotten. Our matters… Yes, they come first. But coming here like this could ruin things.”

“Ruin what? The wedding?”

“…Karon, are you speaking rationally? You shouldn’t be angry at me right now.”

“I know, I know, damn it. That’s why I came. To see you in person. To explain. Why do you keep avoiding me? Why won’t you listen?”

“You didn’t explain properly or meet me first. What am I avoiding? Be clear. And let go of my arm.”

“Yuri.”

“It hurts, let go!”

Karon, grinding his teeth and huffing, released Yurik’s arm, startled by his shout. He worried he’d grabbed the injured arm, but thankfully not. Amused at his relief amidst the argument, Karon scoffed.

“You’re laughing?”

Yurik was angry too. Who was throwing a tantrum now? Making a fuss in the morning because he wasn’t listened to? Why was he acting so childish? Why complain about not being accepted?

He was the one who didn’t communicate properly. Did Yurik have to accept it all? Exhausted, irritated, and craving solitude, Yurik just wanted peace.

“Stop. Leave. I don’t want to talk anymore. Let’s not see each other until the banquet ends.”

“Ha, Lord Yurik, you sound like I’m the one clinging. Do I seem desperate?”

“Didn’t you come because you were desperate, Lord Chevinelle?”

“Why do you keep switching between my name and title? Are you threatening me? Some kind of protest?”

“You’re the one who got mad first.”

“…Yuri.”

“Leave.”

“I said let’s talk.”

“I’m saying respect etiquette first. Think of Young Lord Luches’s position too.”

“You really…!”

Karon put a hand on his hip, grinding his teeth. Yurik’s rigid, inflexible attitude infuriated him. This man noticed every detail but said nothing, showing no complaints or dissatisfaction about the situation. Even though he was unwillingly partnered with 1st Prince Lazhuel.

That angered Karon too. Why didn’t his betrothed get mad when paired with another omega? Was that normal? For lovers…

Thinking that far, Karon clenched his teeth.

Right. They weren’t “lovers.”

Nor was it a simple relationship. It was a contract-bound one. Karon had agreed to marry Yurik for his own purposes, and Yurik had his own reasons. Realizing he’d forgotten this, Karon felt a jolt like a blow to the head.

A heavy silence fell between them. Karon let out a low, exasperated laugh. He wasn’t seeing the situation clearly, treating a contract marriage like a romance. Alone. Fretfully.

Yurik, a true noble, acted pragmatically, accepting inevitabilities for profit. How pathetic he must look. Karon looked at Yurik with a hurt expression.

Yurik sighed. It felt like a total mess, but he had nothing more to say. He bit his lip. Even if Karon had used him like Luches, Yurik would have no words.

A debtor couldn’t act boldly. It was natural. Yurik owed Karon, who was faithfully fulfilling the contract. Gossip or not, meeting when Karon wanted might be right.

But this damned pride held Yurik back. Noble pride and alpha pride. It all told him not to understand Karon easily.

Mentioning Luches while understanding the situation might just be jealousy. Jealousy over losing his place beside Karon. Or inferiority. Was he saying he was fine to convince himself?

Yurik blinked his bloodshot eyes, pressing his eyelids.

He needed to think more. Honestly, he had no choice in continuing this relationship.

“…Go inside. I’m too tired to see you out. Later, later… Yes, later.”

Yurik stepped back slowly, turned, and fled up to the second floor.

Watching Yurik’s back, Karon ran a hand through his hair, twisted his lips, and muttered bitterly.

“Damn it…”

It was a mess. No more words could be said. Karon turned away dejectedly.

When Lazhuel warned he’d ruin everything by visiting, Karon had scoffed.

Now, he regretted ignoring Lazhuel’s nagging and thinking this could be easily resolved. A little. No, a lot.

• ~ *

After Karon left, Yurik couldn’t sleep properly, tossing and turning before finally dozing off. When he woke, it was 4 p.m., the sun blazing. He asked the butler why he wasn’t woken, learning a telegram had come from Dellord, a senior clerk.

“The plaza event went well, so don’t worry and attend the banquet.

I’m worried Lord Yurik might collapse first.

—Dellord”

Panicked, Yurik relaxed upon reading it. With the event successful, the next steps should proceed as planned. Clutching his throbbing head, Yurik staggered, and the butler looked worried.

“Are you sure you’re alright going like this?”

“I’ll slip out if I can’t handle it, so don’t worry.”

Yurik sighed and gestured. Servants brought banquet attire, arranging them for Yurik to see. He washed lightly and changed.

“Ahem.”

Clearing his throat, he felt a raw ache. His condition wasn’t great. Lack of sleep? He considered but had no intention of skipping the banquet.

With plans disrupted and hastily redone, there’d be issues. Checking and fixing them on-site was the only way to feel at ease. Yurik tied the tie handed by a servant and dressed for the banquet.

The butler, attending Yurik, looked at him in the mirror with concern.

“You don’t look well. Are you alright?”

Yurik checked his face in the mirror. He looked haggard but not too noticeably. Rubbing his stubbled cheek, he chuckled.

“I’m fine, so stop worrying.”

“With no one around to look after you, I have to do my best.”

The butler’s face remained worried. No one around… True. Without the butler, no one would check the unseen details. With family gone (or rather, fled), who would care for Yurik?

Sehil and his parents wouldn’t care even if Yurik’s condition was visibly bad. Partly because Yurik was meticulous about self-care, but they held an odd belief: their eldest son was unshakable, never ill, always dignified.

‘Sehil always mocked me as a born noble.’

Sehil often jeered, envious of Yurik’s pride, disregard for others’ opinions, and noble demeanor. He called Yurik inhuman.

But Yurik maintained that image deliberately, ensuring House Windsor, a meritorious but hollow family, wasn’t disrespected. He put on a tiepin with a green emerald glowing softly and faced the mirror.

Yurik had moments of weakness. Today’s clash with Karon exhausted him further. Was sending him away right? He questioned himself.

But if not, what more could he have said? Despite knowing Karon’s situation, his subtle hurt might have shown. Yurik feared that. His poker face crumbling, revealing his true feelings to Karon.

‘…Did I misspeak?’

Yes, the only time he wasn’t confident or haughty was in someone’s presence. It made him overly reactive and sharp. He regretted it a bit. He shouldn’t have engaged with Karon. His hurt expression lingered in Yurik’s mind.

‘But the situation wasn’t right for talking.’

He had to say the right thing, and Karon needed to care for Luches. Visiting another noble’s house early in the morning was prime gossip fodder. Yurik had to make Karon see that. Besides, they weren’t that close.

‘…Just a contract marriage.’

No matter the feelings, that was the truth. Shocking facts were hidden behind it. So they had to stay hidden. The growing attention and feelings beyond fondness. Already in debt, if that was exposed… Yurik had nowhere to escape.

“That’s enough.”

Dismissing the servants adjusting accessories, Yurik prepared to leave. Today’s ceremony honoring the knights’ feats was replaced with an entrance ritual. The Empress, upset, declined to attend. Her absence from a banquet at Luminous Palace was unprecedented.

‘A first among firsts.’

Upending a victory banquet in a day, reorganizing it, and the Empress not attending. Still, having only 1st Prince Lazhuel as the honored guest wasn’t bad.

• ~ *

It was nearly 7 p.m. when Yurik arrived at Luminous Palace. Most nobles were already present. He smoked a cigar outside to kill time, entering near the last turn.

As Yurik appeared, whispers from nobles echoed, but he ignored them fiercely. Listening would only unsettle his guarded heart. They seemed to be assessing the situation, splitting into Empress and Prince factions after yesterday.

‘…Marquis Graham has fully allied with the Empress’s faction.’

Talking with Viscount Bellomang, Baron Alten, and Baron Lutlin, known hardline Empress supporters, he was indirectly showing his shift from neutrality. Yurik felt a checking gaze from them.

‘Why me?’

They must think he’d join the Prince’s faction as Lazhuel’s partner, but Yurik had no intention of leaving neutrality. Moreover, his betrothed was Karon Chevinelle, a prominent figure in the Empress’s faction.

Curious about their chatter, Yurik passed them without acknowledgment. Nodding curtly to those greeting him, Lawson approached from behind.

“The star of this lively banquet has arrived.”

“Lawson, spare me the nonsense.”

“Nonsense? I saw our northern prince make a big splash with my own eyes.”

Yurik scoffed, exasperated, glaring at Lawson. Unfazed by the sharp look, Lawson slung an arm over Yurik’s shoulder, whispering while glancing around.

“No one’s name will rise and fall at this banquet as much as yours. I’d bet on it. So, why are you alone? Where’s His Highness?”

“Idiot Lawson, did staying up all night fry your brain? His Highness the 1st Prince will lead the entrance ceremony.”

“That’s why I’m asking, why did you come so early? If you’re a partner, shouldn’t you enter together?”

“Since Her Majesty the Empress isn’t attending, His Highness is busy too. There’s no need for me to stick by his side.”

“Oh, Yurik, that’s not it. Times like these are when you should show more support by his side! That’s how you can quickly secure promotions and advancements! They’re even betting on it in the Ministry of Justice. The next Chancellor position is for the honorable Lord Yurik Windsor, or not.”

“The Chancellor Evan would love to hear that. Don’t prematurely end the career of someone so vibrant, Lawson.”

“What are you talking about, Yurik? Chancellor Evan is among those who placed bets.”

At that, Yurik glared at Lawson. These administrative folks, even in their busyness, were distracted by pointless antics. Seeing Yurik’s disgusted expression, Lawson burst out laughing and slapped Yurik’s shoulder.

“Anyway, I’m really, really curious how this juicy drama will end. Have you set a wedding date with Lord Chevinelle? At this rate, His Highness the 1st Prince might snatch you away.”

“Stop talking nonsense.”

“What’s nonsense? The way His Highness the 1st Prince looks at you is just…!”

“Lawson.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Don’t get mad. Every time you look at me like that, my heart skips a beat.”

Lawson grinned playfully, pulling out a handkerchief to pretend to wipe tears. Yurik, dumbfounded, scoffed. Lawson’s antics, absurdly, lightened his mood a bit.

As Lawson grinned and suggested they go smoke a cigar, hurried footsteps approached from behind. Before Yurik could turn, Lawson saw the newcomer, yelped, and patted Yurik’s back.

“Countess Lustelien is coming. I’m out, Yurik.”

“Even you can’t handle her, huh?”

“Oh, her voice alone makes my heart race.”

“Yuri!”

Muttering, Lawson quickly fled. Countess Lustelien approached, calling Yurik loudly. Holding a fan and laughing heartily, she leaned in with a serious expression. Yurik gave a wry smile. What rumor was circulating now to make the Countess so frantic?

“Auntie, you look… stunning as always.”

“Oh, Yuri, my dress is always tailored at the exceptional Luzolde shop… but that’s not the point! Yuri, what on earth is going on?”

“What are you talking about?”

Countess Lustelien stepped closer. Yurik bent down, lending her his ear. She whispered.

“There’s a huge rumor that you and Lord Chevinelle are calling off your engagement, what’s that about? Heavens! Such a trial for our Yuri’s future. Of course, His Highness the 1st Prince is splendid too, but you need to think carefully, Yuri. Unless you plan to completely turn your back on the Empress’s faction…”

“…Calm down. Where did such a rumor come from?”

“They say this morning, Young Duke Karon Chevinelle came to you and announced a broken engagement!”

“…Who’s spreading such nonsense…”

Yurik stopped himself, lips pressed tight. It might actually be true. He hadn’t listened to Karon and sent him away. And his situation… Karon’s disappointed face flashed in his mind. Should he have listened?

Seeing Yurik’s troubled expression, Countess Lustelien fanned herself, gasping. “No way, really? Really?” Snapping out of it, Yurik forced a smile and said.

“The entrance ceremony is starting soon. Auntie, let’s talk later.”

“Yuri, later when! Oh my, heavens, is it true? Did that man dump you? I’m appalled. I knew it from the moment he brought that dainty omega. I never thought the Young Duke was like that…!”

“It’s not like that. Calm down, I’m busy with the entrance ceremony, so let’s talk later.”

“Yuri!”

Even whispering, her loud voice carried. Nodding to her as she stomped her feet, Yurik quickly left. Staying longer would only mean hearing more nonsense.

Just then, a trumpet announced the entrance ceremony.

The orchestra shifted to a grand tune, filling the banquet hall with majesty. The central double doors slid open, and 1st Prince Lazhuel entered first.

Amid nobles’ applause, knights followed, each with their partner. A herald loudly announced their names.

Yurik clapped, slipping to a corner where the knights were less visible. Karon entered first, so his face was the next seen after the Prince. Hiding among the crowd, Yurik stole glances at Karon entering with Luches.

“You, is he more important than our situation?”

Karon’s words echoed. His hurt expression, low voice, all of it. Our situation, our situation… Was Luches really more important? Or was he just avoiding it? Yurik reflected. Yes, perhaps,

‘…I used Luches as an excuse.’

Because someone else was by Karon’s side, maybe he used that as an excuse. Yurik sighed deeply, staring blankly at Karon.

Would their engagement really end?

A pang in his heart made Yurik bite his lip and lower his gaze. Could he even say anything to Karon? Could he hold onto him? He didn’t know.

After the entrance ceremony, the banquet began. Lazhuel, standing in for Empress Bistette, raised a champagne glass and said.

“To the knights of Radiant Glory.”

Nobles raised their glasses in a toast. Yurik sipped just enough to wet his tongue and set the glass down. The event plan, painstakingly revised last night, was running smoothly so far. Yurik sighed in relief.

As the Prince’s partner, Yurik should have been by his side, but Lazhuel was acting as the Empress’s proxy, too busy to approach. Nobles swarmed him with congratulations, and he seemed preoccupied responding. Most around him were Prince faction nobles, though many neutral ones gathered too.

Far off, Karon’s tall figure stood out among the crowd. Luches, his partner, was nowhere to be seen.

“I told him to take care of his partner.”

Watching Karon laugh and chat, Yurik sighed softly and turned away. What was there to care about? Pressing his heavy eyelids, he slipped toward the wall. Sleep deprivation left his head foggy. Yet, the whispers around him were crystal clear.

“Is it true? This morning?”

“I’m telling you… we might miss the wedding of the century…”

“What’s His Highness thinking…”

Alone, he felt even more like gossip fodder. No matter how thick-skinned, the weight of so many eyes was overwhelming.

With a discomforted expression, Yurik loosened his tie and headed for the terrace. He needed fresh air to clear his head. As he moved, someone called him from behind.

“Lord Windsor.”

“…Viscount Graham.”

Yurik stopped, forcing a smile. He hadn’t expected him to approach. Viscount Ruienne Graham, who never acknowledged him, moved in different circles.

Yurik thought of Luches. It was clear he was approaching because of matters involving Karon and Luches.

The Viscount smiled subtly, offering one of two glasses to Yurik.

“It’s been a while. I heard you’ve been busy as a clerk. How have you been?”

“Quite well.”

Yurik smiled awkwardly, accepting the glass. The Viscount downed his drink, and since it was offered, Yurik couldn’t refuse. He took a sip, but the taste was oddly harsh on his tongue.

‘Is champagne supposed to taste like this?’

Frowning slightly at the glass, Viscount Graham spoke.

“It’s quite lively around here lately, isn’t it?”

“Yes, well…”

Yurik cleared his throat and smiled at him.

“No need to be swayed by rumors. They’re just rumors.”

“Oh, indeed. I’m not one for the exaggerated tales of Halcon Empire’s social scene. It’s notoriously chatty, isn’t it?”

“Haha… True.”

“Focusing on the gossip of those enamored with nobles’ private lives makes it easy to forget what’s important. No need to be swayed by the chatter of those beneath us; nobles like us will seize what we want.”

His refined, cutting words were classic Halcon noble rhetoric. Why he was saying this to Yurik was unclear. Yurik twitched an eyebrow, meeting his twisted gaze, then cleared his throat again.

His body was growing hotter. His breathing felt faster. Sensing something off, Yurik frowned at the Viscount.

Ruienne stared at Yurik, then smiled artificially when their eyes met. A chill ran down Yurik’s spine, but he needed to deal with this heat first. With a troubled look, he said.

“I, I need to step away…”

“Oh, did I hold you too long? Go ahead. Lord Windsor, as a popular figure, must be in demand.”

The sarcasm was clear, but Yurik couldn’t respond. His hands trembled. He nodded briefly as a greeting and turned. Then, the Viscount called out.

“Oh, give me the glass. You seem in a hurry, so I’ll pass it to a servant.”

“…Thank you.”

Yurik moved quickly to leave the banquet hall. Watching him disappear, Viscount Graham’s smile faded into a grimace. He clicked his tongue, downing the rest of his drink.

“After all this, Luches… you’d better do well.”

Clicking his tongue, he muttered, taking both glasses to the terrace. The dark outside contrasted with the brightly lit hall.

He set the glasses on the railing and leaned beside them. Holding up Yurik’s glass to the light, he saw faint powder residue. Setting it down, he casually knocked it off the railing.

“He’s an alpha… he’ll handle it.”

The Viscount’s gaze followed Yurik through the terrace curtains, heading out of the hall.

• ~ *

“Hah…”

Yurik’s body was getting hotter. He fully loosened his tie, leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. Glancing around, only a few passing servants were visible.

He couldn’t ask for help, but being alone was better. Showing weakness to anyone was unthinkable.

‘Come to think of it… my rut is due soon.’

But it was still days away. Frowning, he sniffed himself, unable to smell his own pheromones. He groaned softly, swallowing a sigh.

‘Damn it, at a time like this.’

A rut, with four days of important events left. His cycle was regular; it shouldn’t have shifted. Perhaps the relentless all-nighters were to blame. Then he recalled the Viscount’s odd-tasting drink. Could it be? Would a scion of the prestigious House Graham do such a thing?

Wiping cold sweat, Yurik walked slowly as his vision spun. A heavy heat pooled in his lower abdomen. He needed to resolve this quickly.

The damn Luminous Palace felt needlessly vast now. Leaving the pillared corridor, another long hallway appeared, lined with too many rooms.

Yurik blinked. His vision was blurring. Losing control now would ruin more than just him. Clenching his teeth to hold onto reason, sweat poured down as he unbuttoned his shirt, trudging through the hallway. Then, rapid footsteps approached from behind, followed by a wave of pheromones. The thick lily scent was nauseating.

“Cough…!”

“Heavens… Lord Windsor?”

Omega pheromones. Yurik knew instantly after exhaling. Someone approached slowly, their scent growing stronger. He wanted to cover his nose, but the piercing smell overwhelmed his senses. Groping the wall, he covered his face with a dry hand.

“Lord Windsor, are you unwell? You’re sweating so much…”

The approaching figure, vaguely familiar, touched Yurik’s arm without hesitation, emitting pheromones. Yurik sharply swatted the hand away and barely spoke.

“Don’t… don’t touch me.”

“Oh, I was just trying to help. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“But you’re sweating so much… Heavens…”

Yurik glimpsed a face he’d seen in passing. Right, someone by Leslie’s side. The young noble, still boyish, had flushed cheeks, sensing Yurik’s alpha pheromones.

Why was an unknown omega here when everyone was at the banquet? Yurik couldn’t understand.

“I’ll go alone, so please return, Young Lord.”

At Yurik’s words, the noble’s expression shifted subtly. He grabbed Yurik’s arm firmly, pulling him close. Yurik’s body tilted into him. The man grinned.

“You seem in a rush. Let’s do this together. I’d welcome Lord Windsor anytime.”

“Young Lord, let go… I said let go.”

“I’ll guide you to a lounge.”

Yurik struggled to free his arm, but the man’s grip was too strong. To an onlooker, it might seem a rut-driven Yurik was willingly led by an omega. Humiliation made him bite his lip. His body and eyes weakened. The man checked a nearby door’s lock, opened it, and entered.

“Hey, just go. Go.”

“Your body’s honest, but your mouth lies. Lord Windsor, don’t you want something else?”

Grinning, the man pushed Yurik inside. Tripping on a mat, Yurik was caught and pulled into an embrace.

The man’s closeness stirred an unbearable urge. An infuriating instinct. Impulse. Something Yurik hated most.

The man pushed the faltering Yurik against the wall, reaching to lock the door.

“Just us, so relax. Even the great Lord Windsor can’t escape this, right? So let’s have fun here. I’m up for it, aren’t I?”

He caressed Yurik’s cheek, leaning to kiss him. Yurik turned his head, blinking to avoid the hand. Then, the door slammed open with a bang. The man jumped, looking toward it. Yurik’s gaze followed.

“What are you doing!”

Luches burst in, his face resolute. He shoved the man off Yurik. Caught off guard, the man fell hard, grimacing in annoyance.

“What’s with this rude brat!”

“What are you doing! He said no…!”

“You think this is forced? Can’t you smell the aroused pheromones? Who interrupts an alpha and omega…?”

Luches, seeing the man’s angry outburst, shrank but stood in front of Yurik. As an omega, he understood the situation well. He’d been watching Yurik from a distance since he left the banquet hall, witnessing the omega deliberately tormenting Yurik with pheromones. Mustering all his courage, Luches glared and shouted.

“Get out!”

“Ha, Young Lord Graham, I’m not harming Lord Windsor. This is a legitimate alpha-omega relationship…!”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll scream in the banquet hall that you seduced Lord Yurik with pheromones on purpose.”

“What? Hey, I’m doing this for your hyung…!”

“I know, so get out!”

Luches shut his eyes, shielding Yurik and shouting. The man stood, dumbfounded. Seeing Luches glare again, he clicked his tongue, glared back, and left. Only then did Luches feel some relief.

Breathing deeply, he blinked. He’d done something huge, but couldn’t process it yet. Still, saving Lord Yurik from danger was a relief. To think such an improper omega existed.

Then, heavy breathing came from behind, and Luches felt a chill from the alpha pheromones enveloping him.

Yurik, leaning against the wall, collapsed onto Luches’s back with a thud.

“Ugh…!”

“Haa…”

With a long breath, another wave of pheromones hit. Luches panicked. This alpha scent was new to him. Frozen, holding Yurik, Yurik lifted his head with effort to look at him.

“To the bed…”

“Oh, yes, yes.”

With Luches’s help, Yurik reached the bed. Clutching the bedpost, he gestured to Luches.

“Go now, Luches.”

His low, firm voice pierced Luches’s ears. Holding onto reason, Yurik issued a final warning. His trembling hand gripped the post.

“Y… Lord Yurik, I’m, I’m fine. You…”

“No, not fine at all. Leave now.”

“Lord Yurik…”

“Don’t come closer, let go.”

Seeing Yurik sweat profusely, Luches stepped forward worriedly but stopped at his words. The unfamiliar low voice and suffocating pheromones made Luches’s body heat up. Biting his lip, he watched Yurik gesture slowly.

“Go… now…”

His body wouldn’t obey. Yurik wanted to extinguish the fire tormenting his core. He wanted to collapse anyone nearby to end this sensation. But a thread of reason held him. Sweat dripped onto the bedspread. He waved his hand again.

“Go, go, Luches.”

Seeing his harsh rejection, Luches bit his lip. He couldn’t leave him like this. Tearfully, he said.

“Then, hold me, Lord Yurik.”

Yurik gasped, stunned. He couldn’t comprehend what Luches was saying. Clutching his forehead, he looked at him. Luches, tears streaming, stepped closer.

“Hold me instead…”

“That’s an unreasonable request for someone with a betrothed, Luches Graham.”