RODH Chapter 36

36.

“Ack!”

“Young master—no, my lord! Are you alright?”

“I’m not alright because of you! What the hell was that?!”

I smacked his chest with a loud thump, just like Bain had done earlier.

“I-I thought it was an emergency… Ow, that hurts!”

“Next time, just slap like that again.”

“I’m sorry, my lord. But… are you really saying nothing happened in the North?”

“Nothing happened!”

I snapped back in annoyance, and left a sulking Bain behind as I flopped sideways onto the bed.

I’d been planning to savor the afterglow for a while, but the mood was completely ruined.

After telling Bain to leave, I just lay there quietly on the bed.

As soon as the house fell silent, my chest started fluttering and tingling again.

It kind of felt like the emotion I had when I first saw Seor… but also not quite.

That’s probably why sharp-eyed Bain kept pressing me about whether anything had happened in the North.

But I had no intention of telling anyone about what happened with Nevan.

It was still just a budding something.

The tiny sliver of conscience I had left as the crown princess-to-be tried to whisper, Can you really do this? But whatever. Once the engagement was broken, that was it.

That evening, I spent the whole time thinking about Nevan, barely noticing whether food was going into my nose or my mouth.

And in the middle of the night—

A fever suddenly flared up, and my lower stomach began to ache. I called for Bain in a rush.

It was a heat.

“Bain, bring me my suppressant.”

My throat was parched like a wrung-out rag.

Bain scrambled around and quickly brought the medicine.

He must’ve woken the doctor, too—he showed up in his nightclothes to check my condition.

“It’s a heat cycle. As long as you take your medicine and get plenty of rest, you’ll recover quickly.”

Even the doctor’s voice irritated me; my head was spinning.

I was sweating so much the sheets under me were completely soaked.

I waved Bain off when he tried to stay with me and dozed fitfully through the night.

With each passing hour, the sky outside the window lightened in shade, and I sighed.

The next morning, Bain came in bright and early with pumpkin soup and a suppressant in hand—and his eyes widened in shock.

“Good heavens, my lord. Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not alright.”

“Try to eat a bit and get some more sleep. I’ll bring you fresh sheets.”

“Thanks, Bain.”

Any romantic notions about heat cycles could go straight to hell.

How could it possibly make sense that something this painful is supposed to feel that good just from sleeping with an alpha?

I always thought alphas should have to feel this pain too—but according to Bain, ruts are apparently quite painful as well.

Is that why Seor is always so irritable?

I ended up thinking about Seor, who had gone through his coming-of-age ceremony before me, but by the time the sun began to set, my mind drifted back to Nevan.

That scent of grass… it had been so nice.

I grumbled to myself, staggering to my feet, thinking I shouldn’t have given that ripped cuff to Seor’s bastard self.

An omega’s heat cycle usually lasts a week, or two at most.

It wasn’t until the third day of the heat that I could finally walk again. I sat down at my desk and opened a drawer.

Inside, a pair of gleaming ruby cufflinks sat proudly, radiating presence.

I brought them to my nose, then pressed a kiss to them.

Nevan’s lips had been soft and pliant—so different from his hands.

Just recalling that sinful sensation sent a rush of heat downward.

It was said to be a perfectly natural reaction for those with traits like mine, but still… getting off with a piece of jewelry felt a little too much.

I carefully returned the ruby cufflinks to the small drawer and walked over to the window to get some fresh air.

There was a hint of chill in the wind blowing from afar.

It was the wind of Ferost.

I missed Nevan.

Quickly, I shut the window, sat down at my desk, and pulled out an ink pen and a sheet of paper.

Once again, I started with, “To His Grace, the Grand Duke of Kirias, whom I dearly respect.”

In northern speech, it would probably come off as, “What are you up to?” But I didn’t write anything like that.

It would’ve sounded way too obvious.

Instead, I decided to share how I’d been doing lately.

That I was staying at the estate under the Emperor’s command for reflection—and that, by chance, a heat cycle had struck, so I’d been resting well.

Wait. No.

Should I leave out the part about the heat?

Was that too revealing?

After much back-and-forth, I crumpled the letter… then another… and another.

And so, finally, just before dawn, a single letter was completed.

---

“Yaaawn.”

Bain woke up early and dressed the messenger pigeon in its feathered coat.

He’d sent a letter to the North last time too… What is it this time?

He felt a strong urge to peek at the letter clearly stamped with the Ruben family seal, but as a proper servant, he knew he couldn’t.

Coo—coo—

When he pressed the magical device attached to the pigeon’s leg, the letter slid neatly inside.

Stretching wide, Bain launched the pigeon into the sky with both hands.

Just then, a familiar voice sounded from behind him.

“You have enough strength to send pigeons, but not enough to greet guests?”

“Y-Your Imperial Highness!”

Bain immediately dropped to his knees and bowed.

Standing beside Seor was Peter, clad in dazzling silver armor that gleamed in the morning sun.

Seor spoke.

“You may rise.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“I heard from the butler—Ian is going through his first heat cycle, isn’t he?”

“Ah, yes…”

Bain replied hesitantly, eyeing the elderly butler standing off in the distance.

Then Seor asked,

“How is Ian’s condition?”

“Well…”

“Speak the truth.”

Peter added a threatening glare, and Bain, thinking these were exactly the kind of people Ian would hate, answered reluctantly.

“He was in so much pain on the first day he could barely sleep. But now he’s regained a bit of strength.”

“Is that so? You heard him, butler?”

Seor gestured to Bain while addressing the butler standing farther off.

The Ruben family’s butler respectfully declined within the bounds of proper etiquette.

“Even so, it’s not permitted.”

“And yet, my fiancée is well enough to send a letter by pigeon—but I’m not allowed to see him? How does that make any sense, Bain?”

“T-that is…”

“His Imperial Highness is asking you a question. Answer truthfully.”

“Ugh…”

Despite Peter’s pressure, Bain stubbornly refused, saying Ian’s heat cycle hadn’t ended yet.

Seor, having already heard that Ian had canceled his imperial studies, decided not to push any further.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the fact that the pigeon had flown north.

Surely, Ian wasn’t exchanging letters with the Grand Duke of Kirias behind his back?

Staring into the air, Seor suddenly asked Bain,

“Where’s the window to Ian’s room?”

“T-that’s…”

“Don’t make me ask twice.”

“…This way.”

Bain didn’t like Seor and Peter storming around first thing in the morning.

But arguing further would only provoke the wrath of the empire’s little sun—so he wisely played along.

The place Seor was led to was the laundry yard.

From early morning, white sheets and clothes were hung up, fluttering in the gentle breeze.

Seor gazed at Ian’s closed window, then reached out and grabbed a piece of cloth blowing in the wind.

It was a handkerchief embroidered with the Ruben family crest.

Instinctively, Seor buried his nose in it.

Faintly, the scent of honey and flowers—Ian’s pheromones—lingered.

“This will do in place of seeing his face.”

“Your Highness!”

As Seor turned to leave, Peter gave Bain a cold warning.

Not to breathe a word of this to his master.

Gulping nervously, Bain ran back inside like he was fleeing.

---

“…So I’m telling you, they were threatening me so viciously, I nearly collapsed on the spot. His Imperial Highness was bad enough, but Sir Hubert was way too much.”

I nodded along as Bain gave his report.

Even though that dreadful Seor had come and gone, it was obvious I wasn’t in a bad mood at all—and Bain, noticing this, started prying again.

“My lord, something did happen, didn’t it?”

“What do you mean, ‘something’?” I replied, my voice hitting a clear G note.

Bain, now convinced something really had happened, pressed me about who I was always writing letters to.

So I told him.

“Who else? I’ve been sending letters to His Grace the Grand Duke of Kirias.”

“What?!”

“You didn’t mishear. I’ve been writing to His Grace.”

“B-but why?”

“Because… he’s a good friend.”

“A friend…?”

Bain blinked, then suddenly came to his senses and asked seriously,

“He’s not a friend—he’s a lover, isn’t he, my lord? After years of serving you, I can tell. You’re lying right now.”

“Go on.”

Bain floundered.

“Um… meaning, you and the Grand Duke are lovers.”

“Then what are these letters?”

“Love letters, obviously!”

“Really? Then go ahead and read them.”

I handed Bain a few letters that Nevan had sent.

[I’m doing well.]

[No additional monsters have been found.]

[The North is safe.]

[The snow has stopped.]

[Summer is coming.]

Bain frowned as he read the one-line letters.

“What is all this?”

“I told you—it’s just friendly letters with a good friend.”

“No, but how can it be this…”

Bain now glared at the absurd letters with the same look he’d used earlier when badmouthing Seor.

“My lord… don’t tell me you sent letters like this too?”

“No, I filled the whole page when I wrote.”

“I hate to say this, but… could it be that His Grace finds replying bothersome?”

“No way. People in the North are just like this.”

“Says who?”

“My etiquette tutor.”

“Ha… this is driving me crazy, my lord.”

“But look, this one even has two whole lines.”

Bain checked the contents of the two-line letter.

[A hawk would be far faster than a pigeon in a feathered coat. Use my hawk instead.]

Looking toward the window, there really was a sharp-eyed hawk perched outside.