CP 3

Having risen in status from a general laborer to the Duke’s direct servant, the boy was several times more motivated than usual. Overly enthusiastic, he always woke up at dawn to prepare the washing water and waited for Mikhail to wake up. He seemed to want to help with dressing as well, but dressing a high-ranking noble required considerable skill. Furthermore, he was so short that it was simply impossible for him to manage.

In the end, his job remained cleaning. His daily routine was to ensure that not a single speck of dust or a single stain remained anywhere Mikhail stayed.

“Since there are eyes watching, wouldn’t it be better to make his attire a bit more decent?”

The butler was someone who rarely questioned a decision Mikhail had made. However, he seemed unable to tolerate the rags the boy wore while residing in Mikhail’s quarters and pleaded in an earnest voice.

In truth, Mikhail didn’t necessarily want the boy to keep wearing those beggar-like clothes. However, he had left it alone because he felt that if he gave him new clothes, the eye candy would disappear.

Mikhail stared at the white shoulder revealed as the clothes slipped to one side while the boy focused on wiping the table. Then, he lowered his gaze to admire the white calves and ankles beneath the high-riding trouser hems. If all of that were covered, what would he look at all day?

Well, regardless, the butler was right. Leaving him in that state was starting to become an eyesore.

“Call the tailor.”

At Mikhail’s words, the butler quickly hurried out, looking as if he could finally breathe a sigh of relief. The butler must have been in a great hurry, because the tailor was practically dragged into the office shortly after.

“Your Excellency.”

The tailor, who resided in the castle for about half of every month, was in charge of Mikhail’s wardrobe and also handled the clothing for Count Ilya Basari and the knights.

“Come here.”

Mikhail beckoned with his finger to the boy, who had retreated to the corner of the room upon realizing a guest had arrived. The boy approached cautiously.

“Make a few sets of clothes for this boy.”

The tailor’s facial muscles twitched strangely upon seeing the boy brought to his side.

“This person is…?” the tailor asked cautiously.

“Do you need a name to make clothes? Just make them.”

When Mikhail spoke dismissively, the tailor bowed with a fake smile.

“Then I shall need to take measurements first. Shall we go to my workshop together?” the tailor said to the boy.

At that, the boy looked at Mikhail. He seemed very reluctant to go anywhere with a stranger.

“There’s no need to go back and forth. Just take the measurements here.”

At Mikhail’s words, the tailor without further ado pulled a measuring tape from his sleeve.

“Now, please stand with your feet shoulder-width apart like this.”

The tailor, accustomed to Mikhail’s foul temper, was quick-witted. He didn’t mind that the boy looked like a war refugee and began taking measurements as usual. The boy, who seemed to be having his measurements taken for the first time, stood stiffly, not knowing what to do, while the tailor meticulously measured and recorded everything, lifting and lowering the boy’s arms as needed.

Once the measurements were finished, the tailor smiled and approached Mikhail, holding the rolled-up piece of paper.

“If you could give me a rough idea of how many outfits, what kind of fabric, and what colors you would like, I will do my utmost to craft them according to Your Excellency’s wishes.”

Mikhail’s eyes shifted toward the boy standing awkwardly. Feeling the gaze, the boy lowered his head deeply in embarrassment.

“Just make them decent enough for me to drag him around. He’s so scrawny he shivers at the slightest breeze, so make them warm.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“And a coat…”

Mikhail stopped himself mid-sentence.

“No, I’ve already given him one, so that won’t be necessary.”

Winter coats were the most lucrative jobs. The tailor’s eyes drooped in disappointment.

“And you see those clothes he’s wearing now?”

Mikhail gestured with his chin toward the boy. The tailor wore a fake smile as he scanned the clothes—the hems of the pants and the sleeves were so short it looked as if the boy had worn them for several years during a growth spurt.

“Yes.”

“Make a few sets of work clothes for cleaning in exactly those dimensions and send them over.”

“Exactly… those dimensions, sir?”

“Yes.”

Mikhail answered crisply, smiling slightly to reveal one of his teeth. It was a very wicked and spiteful smile. The tailor, wearing a face of innocent ignorance, bowed deeply and disappeared outside.

After leaving the office, the tailor waited outside the door for a moment. Soon, the butler followed him out. The tailor approached the butler with a serious expression and asked.

“No matter how much of a veteran I am, I cannot fathom Your Excellency’s intentions in this matter. Please share some of your wisdom with me. To what extent should the budget for… that person’s clothing be set? What grade of fabric should I use? What should the buttons be?”

The tailor pressed for details, completely unable to get a feel for the situation.

Judging by the boy’s current appearance, it seemed appropriate to just make a few sets of clothes like those worn by ordinary servants, but based on the Duke’s words, that was definitely not the case. Then again, if he went overboard and made them too luxurious, it would be troublesome if it caused a scene.

“Hmm…”

The seasoned old butler, who knew everything that happened within the castle and everything regarding the Duke’s personal affairs, groaned in thought, unable to provide an immediate answer. Even as the butler, he couldn’t fathom what the Duke intended to do with this child named Chaika. Was he keeping him like a pet for a bit of amusement, or had he suddenly developed a sense of compassion he’d never had in his life, or was it something else…?

After pondering various possibilities, the butler finally spoke, unable to reach a definitive conclusion.

“Use the fabric one grade below what His Excellency uses from the fabrics in the castle workshop, but refrain from overly flamboyant decorations. For the shoes, use high-quality leather, but ensure they do not look flashy.”

“Even a grade below His Excellency’s clothing is high-end fabric used by high-ranking nobles; will that be alright? If he reprimands me for it being too excessive…”

The tailor seemed to want the butler to tell him to just do as he was told and that the butler would take responsibility. Instead of easing the tailor’s burden, the butler added:

“It is certain that being reprimanded for using poor fabric would be far more terrible than being reprimanded for using good fabric.”

In other words, even if he failed to keep the line the Duke had set and used the wrong fabric, it would be far less severe if he presented something of high quality. The tailor nodded as if he understood.

“And as for those work clothes…”

The tailor trailed off. He couldn’t understand what the purpose was in making several new sets of clothes in the same size as those small, worn-out clothes that looked years old.

“Those… what kind of fabric should I use for them?”

“Since they are for working, a high-quality linen would be best.”

“Yes. I shall make them as such.”

“Hurry. His Excellency is, as always, a man without patience.”

“Yes.”

Though his face was still clouded with worry, the tailor hurried off to his workshop in the corner of the castle.

After the butler and the tailor left, Mikhail waited, watching closely to see how the boy would react. The boy walked cautiously toward Mikhail and spoke with his head bowed low.

“The new clothes… thank you.”

“…”

When Mikhail didn’t respond, the boy continued, twisting the cloth he had been using to wipe the furniture between his hands.

“You’ve given me such good work, and you’re even getting me new clothes. And the coat…”

“…”

Still receiving no answer, the boy bit his lip hesitantly before speaking with great effort.

“Your Excellency is too kind to me.”

“…”

“You are so, so kind to me that I…”

Trailing off, the boy remained motionless with his head bowed. Mikhail wondered what kind of expression the boy was making right now. He was truly curious. He was also curious as to why he was being so kind to this boy.

“Because you are so kind, I don’t know what to do.”

The boy spoke as if he were pouring his heart out.

Mikhail stared at him, thinking that he wanted to lift the boy’s hair to see his expression. And he wanted to say: I don’t know what to do either.

Possessing an extremely exclusive personality, Mikhail detested being in the same space as others unless it was absolutely necessary. He was the type who felt satisfied only when he had his own space entirely to himself, so he rarely allowed anyone into his office or bedroom, other than his study. The only people who entered were the butler and a few experienced servants, and even they did not stay inside unless necessary.

Governing a vast estate involved more work than one might think. Mikhail handled the most critical matters personally, but for everything else, he gathered capable administrators, shoved them into the castle, and made them work themselves to death. Thanks to this, the estate ran very smoothly. In other words, Mikhail’s daily routine consisted of doing only what he wanted and spending his days idling. It was a very noble way of behaving.

Regardless, the exception to this was Chaika.

Once the boy changed into the clothes the tailor had made, he no longer looked like a war refugee. Dressed in stylish clothes of high-quality fabric and shoes that weren’t out of fashion, he looked quite presentable. However, after having him try them on one by one, Mikhail ultimately had him spend his time wearing those specially ordered work clothes. The clothes the tailor had poured his heart into over a short period ended up buried deep in the wardrobe, never seeing the light of day.

Though he wore clothes similar to his old ones instead of something fancy, Chaika seemed very satisfied with that alone. The work clothes made of thick, high-quality linen were much cleaner, softer, and warmer than the previous ones. Even while working, he couldn’t hide his satisfaction, occasionally stroking the clothes or savoring the texture of the fabric with his hands, and Mikhail watched this with a smirk. It was so trivial that the sight of him being so happy over such a thing made Mikhail laugh involuntarily.

Although they were made of better, thicker fabric than before, the length and fit were the same. When he moved around to clean, his bare skin was exposed, which was insufficient to block the chill of a late autumn night.

Because of this, Mikhail ordered the heater to be turned on whenever the sun began to set. To distribute the heat to every corner of the room, mountains of firewood were added, eventually making the room so hot it felt like it was boiling. It would have been a simple matter to just dress Chaika properly, but Mikhail didn’t care about the labor of those who had to chop and carry firewood and keep the fire roaring.

Chaika was always with him during meals as well. It was unthinkable for a servant to dare sit and eat with him; the boy’s job was simply to stand and watch the skilled servants attend to the meal. The skilled servants carved whole roasted chickens, wild boars, and deer into bite-sized pieces and poured the wine.

Dinner was always lavish, with several types of whole roasted chicken, wild boar, deer, goat, and lamb as a staple. Of course, Mikhail’s appetite as an Alpha was impressive, but serving more food than could possibly be eaten was the way nobles displayed their wealth at dinner. The leftovers were shared among the servants, and if any remained, they went to the odd-job workers.

Mikhail dismissed all the servants with a gesture. Then, he beckoned the only remaining person, Chaika, to come closer. Having experienced this a few times already, Chaika obediently stood right beside Mikhail.

Mikhail took a variety of the carved meats and foods and placed them on a plate in front of Chaika.

“Hand.”

At the short command, Chaika reflexively held out his hand. Mikhail placed a fork in that hand and gestured with his chin for him to eat quickly. After glancing at Mikhail, Chaika cautiously poked the food on his plate and brought it to his mouth.

The first thing he ate was tender chicken thigh meat simmered in plenty of spices. Despite being given a small piece, it took him a long time to chew it, perhaps because his mouth was so small. His lips, moving as he chewed, glistened with the oil from the chicken. After chewing a small piece of chicken nearly thirty times before finally swallowing, the boy let out a heavy sigh as if it had been an ordeal. He must have never eaten meat properly in his entire life.

“I’ve tried it before because Lord Nile gave it to me.”

Whether he had correctly interpreted Mikhail’s gaze, the boy suddenly spoke in a timid voice while eating. Suddenly feeling irritated, Mikhail clicked his tongue and focused on his own meal.

While Mikhail devoured a whole chicken, a large piece of wild boar flank, and a deer’s hind leg, the boy barely finished half of his plate. Perhaps because he was used to constant hunger, he couldn’t eat much even when the food was delicious. This was the most he could manage after being fed continuously for several days to increase his capacity.

He breathed heavily, stroking his stomach as if he were quite full. His lips were glossy with grease. Suddenly, Mikhail had the urge to wipe that grease away with his thumb and lick it off. Fortunately or unfortunately, before he could put it into action, the servants entered and began clearing the table.

Chaika’s sleeping quarters were at the edge of Mikhail’s bedroom. The temporary bedding, which was put away during the day and spread out at bedtime, was usually for the duty servant. Of course, Mikhail, who detested sharing his space, had no duty servant. There were only servants waiting outside the room.

The first night he let the boy sleep on the temporary bedding, the boy shivered and squirmed under the covers several times, seemingly cold. Despite the heater, the chill seemed to seep in because it was right under the window.

Eventually, Mikhail had thick mid-winter bedding brought in, but the situation remained similar. The next day, he had a temporary bed made from the furs that had been prepared for a winter coat. Once finished, it was more of a cozy fur bed than a temporary one. After using the furs, the sounds of tossing and turning or shivering from the cold were almost gone.

When it was time for bed, the boy, struggling with his small body to tidy Mikhail’s bed, stepped forward and bowed.

“Good night, Your Excellency.”

“Mm.”

Mikhail, who usually ignored the greetings of other servants or didn’t even acknowledge them, found himself returning a response like “Mm” every time to the boy’s incredibly polite bow.

The boy went to his spot by the window and tucked himself into the temporary bed made of expensive fur. Like a squirrel entering its small burrow, he rustled around for a while to find a comfortable position, then the movement stopped, and the sound of soft breathing began.

Lying in bed, Mikhail stared at the pile of fur where the boy had made his nest for a long time, finally falling into a light sleep around dawn.

* * *

“Mikhail!”

The door swung open, and Ilya entered. The only person in this Castillo Castle who could treat Mikhail so casually was Count Ilya Basari. He had been quiet for the past few days, staying at his lover’s house in the village outside the castle, and it seemed he had finally returned.

“I heard things were going well with Nile, but then you suddenly cut him off?”

Ilya asked as he strode toward the desk. Mikhail’s face crumpled at the mention of a name he had completely erased from his mind for several days.

“Just having an Omega in my castle is nauseating, and his behavior is the same.”

Mikhail’s words were riddled with deep loathing. Chaika, who was wiping the table nearby, flinched and didn’t know what to do when Nile was mentioned. He kept looking at Mikhail, clearly wanting to explain on Nile’s behalf. Despite having lived through such treatment, the boy was desperate to praise Nile.

“Oh, you are…”

Only then did Ilya notice Chaika in the corner of the room; he recognized the face and raised an eyebrow slightly.

“You… right. You said you’re Nile’s younger brother? What was your name again…?”

Ilya narrowed his eyes as if searching his memory.

“…My name is Chaika.”

“Ah, right. Chaika.”

When the boy answered, Ilya opened his eyes wide as if he had finally remembered. But in truth, it was obvious he had no idea what the name was.

“Go clean the study.”

Mikhail sent him out before Ilya could hold onto him. At the mention of the study, the corners of Chaika’s mouth lifted.

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

As the boy bowed and went to clean the study, his retreating figure looked as excited as a fluttering butterfly.

Once Chaika left the office and the door closed, Ilya, unable to hide his surprise, leaned over the desk, bringing his face close.

“You’re letting that kid clean the study? The study that no one but you and the study manager can enter? You won’t even let me in there!”

A great deal of resentment leaked out of the part where he mentioned he couldn’t enter. Mikhail ignored him. Knowing how sensitive Mikhail was about letting others into his own designated territory, Ilya stopped there and said no more.

“Anyway, what are you going to do about Nile? I told His Majesty that you were getting to know Nile slowly, but you’ve already passed one heat cycle.”

Ilya helped himself to the liquor on the side table and poured a glass. He handed one to Mikhail and sat in the opposite chair, taking a sip before continuing.

“Just close your eyes and do it once during the next heat cycle. Wouldn’t it be better to just get it over with in one go rather than continuing to torment him?”

“If I have one, they’ll tell me to keep having them. And what if the one born is an Omega?”

Mikhail spoke with a cold smile. His face, eyes, and tone—everything radiated extreme loathing and rejection.

Ilya took a few more sips of liquor before speaking.

“Marquis Lucius contacted me saying he wants to visit.”

“Why would that man?”

“Who knows… he might be proposing to replace him with another Omega.”

“Another Omega?”

“Since Nile doesn’t seem to meet your standards, he might bring several decent Omegas and tell you to pick one that does…”

“Filthy,” Mikhail spat out.

“Regardless, Nile is the finest product of the Lucius household. Rather than wasting his youth in a place like this, it might be better to send him to an Alpha who wants him. It would be beneficial for the Marquis in many ways, too.”

“Tell him to do as he pleases. Whether he takes him back or sells him elsewhere.”

Mikhail responded with indifference to Ilya’s words.

“Hmm…”

Ilya let out a sigh and sipped his drink. After a brief pause, he asked tentatively.

“Will you be alright?”

Mikhail snorted, flipping through documents on the desk. Then, Ilya narrowed his eyes slightly and added.

“If Nile goes, that little brat from earlier will follow him.”

Only then did Mikhail look up. Ilya smiled thinly, swirling the glass in his hand as he continued.

“That brat isn’t a slave we bought. He’s just a servant Nile brought along. If we’re talking about ownership, it belongs to Nile. So, if Nile goes, that kid goes, and if Nile stays, that kid stays.”

A deep furrow formed between Mikhail’s brows.

‘Look at this.’

Ilya muttered to himself and drained the rest of his glass in one gulp.

It was nearly midnight by the time Chaika returned after finishing the cleaning of the study. He had been told to clean, and it seemed he had truly cleaned every inch of that vast study; the boy’s legs wobbled slightly as he walked slowly.

“I’m back.”

A strong, bitter scent of medicinal herbs wafted from the boy as he bowed his head in greeting. It seemed he had stopped by the hidden cultivation grounds in addition to the study.

“Goodnight, Your Excellency.”

Normally, he would have hovered around Mikhail, asking if he needed anything or if his bed was comfortable, searching for one more task to perform. But today, he seemed utterly exhausted; after his greeting, he crawled straight into his spot in the corner. He rustled as he settled in and then went quiet, and just as Mikhail thought he had fallen asleep, he heard the faint sound of shivering from within the pile of furs.

It had been much colder today compared to the last few days. Since his spot was right below the window, the cold wind would seep in through the gaps. But to shiver like that even while wrapped in such thick furs… how on earth did that body even function?

He couldn’t help but hear it, and he couldn’t help but care.

Tsk.

Eventually clicking his tongue, Mikhail climbed down from the bed and hoisted the entire makeshift bed the boy was bundled in. Ignoring the startled boy’s struggling, he strode over and set him down right in front of the fireplace.

The boy poked his head out from the fur blanket, confirmed that he was now directly in front of the warm hearth, and looked up at Mikhail.

“…Thank you.”

That one small greeting dropped into Mikhail’s heart like a pebble, creating ripples. Mikhail thought once again that he had no idea what to do.

Returning to his bed, Mikhail closed his eyes and tried to sleep. From the direction of the fireplace at the foot of the bed, he could hear the sound of steady, soft breathing. It was clearly a tiny sound, yet it lingered in his ears and wouldn’t disappear. Mikhail pulled back the covers, climbed down from the bed again, and went to the fireplace.

Perhaps because it was so warm right in front of the fire, the thick fur blanket had been pushed aside. The boy was lying on his side toward the fireplace, with one leg draped over the displaced fur. His hands were gathered in front of his chest, slightly clenched like a baby’s.

The boy was small and petite. The body he had always considered scrawny and unsightly looked a bit different today. His arms and legs were long and slender, and his hips, accentuated by his curled posture, were pleasingly rounded. Mikhail couldn’t tell if this was the result of feeding him diligently over the past few days, or if he simply looked that way tonight.

The sight of him fast asleep and sprawled out on comfortable, plush bedding in front of the warm fire was entirely different from his usual self. This might have been the first time he had slept so warmly and comfortably with a peaceful mind. Or, at least, it was the first time Mikhail had seen it.

Mikhail stood right beside him, looking down, and slowly bent his knees. He saw a slender, white neck. Seeing the bone protruding at the back of the neck made his fingers and palms itch. Mikhail carefully reached out and touched the hair that half-covered the boy’s face. It felt as coarse as it looked.

A small chin and lips parted slightly, breathing softly…

If he brushed this hair aside, what kind of face would be revealed? Would the parts covered by hair be as small and white as that chin, and would the eyes and nose be as delicate as those reddish lips? Or would he be as hideous as the desperation in his screams? If he saw the boy’s face, would this strange itch disappear? Or would it worsen?

The fingers resting on the hair trembled slightly with hesitation. The muscles of his clenched jaw twitched. After hesitating for a long time, Mikhail eventually withdrew his hand and stood up. Watching the boy sleep so peacefully by the warm fire, he let out a hollow laugh, wondering what on earth he was doing.

Mikhail returned to bed and stayed awake until dawn. The boy, who had slept soundly and deeply all night, woke up early in the morning, stretched as if he had slept the best sleep of his life, and tidied his bedding. Thinking Mikhail was still asleep, he zipped out to fetch wash water. Mikhail felt that if he gave the boy a flick on the head, he might feel a bit better, but he couldn’t, fearing that the tiny head might actually crack.

“Did you sleep well?”

Chaika, having returned with the wash water, greeted him in a bright voice. He seemed to be in a very refreshed mood after a deep sleep. Mikhail washed his face roughly, splashing water everywhere, and left the bedroom immediately after dressing haphazardly.

“Ilya!”

When he flung open the door to Ilya’s nearby bedroom, the woman lying in bed with him hurriedly grabbed her clothes and bolted outside.

“It’s not even time for breakfast yet…”

Ilya blinked, stretching while covering only his lower body with the blanket. Not being the type to care about others’ circumstances, Mikhail went to one side of the room, gathered Ilya’s scattered clothes, and threw them onto the bed.

“Let’s go hunting.”

At Mikhail’s words, Ilya, who had been lounging with no intention of getting up, bolted upright. That was how Alphas were. It was problematic if they didn’t periodically release their barbaric violence.

“I was actually thinking I needed to loosen up, so that sounds great.”

Ilya quickly threw on the clothes tossed on the bed. His face looked as if his whole body was already pulsing at the thought of the excitement and exhilaration of the hunt.

No special preparation was needed. Just a dagger, a bow, and a water skin were enough. The two took their horses from the stables and rode straight through the castle gates into the forest. It felt as if someone was watching from the windows of the mansion behind them, but Mikhail did not look back.

The lush, vast forest stretching to the west of Castle Castilla was Mikhail’s territory and served as his hunting ground. Because the forest was so vast and rich in wildlife, the hunting warden didn’t even need to go through the trouble of releasing pheasants to increase the prey.

Deep in the forest, the two immediately began the hunt. Ilya, searching for prey while mounted, fired the first arrow. Thwack. With the sound of hide and flesh being pierced, a bird that had been fluttering away fell to the ground.

Mikhail rode his horse slowly, bow in hand. Animals that sensed the sound of hooves and their presence either fled quickly or held their breath in silence. For Mikhail, who possessed senses akin to a beast, it was easy to sense a squirrel huddled in a tree or a rabbit holding its breath in the brush. However, instead of firing his bow in those directions, Mikhail simply continued to ride slowly.

He had thought that coming on a hunt would change his mood. Firing arrows, slitting throats with a dagger to end their breath, pulling out the raw liver of a fresh kill to satisfy hunger… He thought he would feel much lighter if he could fully release the violence he hadn’t expressed for a while, but now that he was here, he didn’t even have the motivation to fire a single arrow, let alone hunt.

“Hey!”

Ilya shouted. Looking over, Mikhail saw a rabbit running quickly in his direction, chased by Ilya. The plump creature turned away upon seeing Mikhail, but that actually put it in the perfect angle for Mikhail to shoot.

Mikhail raised the bow he had been holding and notched an arrow. He pulled the bowstring taut. The rabbit running desperately was dark brown. And it was small.

Ping—

He fired, but he missed. No, he missed on purpose.

“What are you doing?”

Ilya, who had ridden up beside him, frowned. Several prey already caught were dangling from strings on Ilya’s saddle.

“It’s not like you missed that, so what is it?”

Ilya pressed further.

“What would I even do with such a small thing?”

When Mikhail spoke while lowering his bow, Ilya laughed as if it were absurd.

“Eat it, obviously. That’s why we brought only hunting gear.”

Ilya was right. They had entered the forest with nothing but a water skin and hunting tools, without any food. As always, they had to procure their meals on-site.

They continued to roam the forest, but Mikhail let the rabbits, birds, and small deer go. There was only one reason: they were too small. Eventually, he found a large deer and killed it instantly with a single arrow. That was the end of the day’s hunt.

Night falls early in the forest. As darkness descended, the two headed to a hunting cabin deep in the woods. Since it was a place they used often, it was equipped with all the basic necessities.

They lit a bonfire in front of the cabin and skewered the dressed game; soon, the rich scent of roasting meat wafted through the air.

Instead of dressing the deer he had caught, Mikhail tossed it aside and sat before the bonfire, drinking alcohol he had brought from inside the cabin. Ilya was busy cutting open the bellies of his many catches to remove the entrails and skin them.

In the pitch-black darkness of a moonless night, the bonfire in front of the cabin was the only light. Watching the fire, he was reminded of the boy who had slept soundly and sprawled out by the hearth last night. Immediately, his palms, fingers, and the back of his neck began to itch. Tsk. Mikhail clicked his tongue and gulped down his drink.

It was around the time the meat over the fire began to sizzle and drip grease. From the edge of the darkness where the firelight didn’t reach, the sound of small footsteps approached. It approached cautiously, stopped for a moment, approached cautiously again, and finally entered the area touched by the light.

Kyang—

The creature crying softly as if pleading was a red fox. It seemed to have recently become independent from its mother, as it was not yet a fully grown adult. Wild animals that sense a human, especially an Alpha, invariably flee. However, this one seemed so starved after several days that it couldn’t ignore the smell of meat; despite being terrified, it approached bit by bit.

Mikhail watched silently as the creature approached, one step, then another, gauging the situation. Occasionally, it let out a sorrowful whine, whine, pleading its plight. Ilya saw the creature and let out a hollow “Huh?”, causing the fox to freeze in place, startled.

Looking at the creature pleading with hungry eyes, a certain image came to mind. Mikhail drew his dagger, cut off one of the hind legs of the deer he had tossed beside him, and threw it in the fox’s direction. When the fairly large hind leg landed with a thud in front of it, the fox gripped it firmly in its jaws, turned around, and quickly vanished into the darkness.

“You… you really are acting strange lately, aren’t you?”

Ilya said with an incredulous look. Mikhail remained silent. It was as good as an admission. Ilya let out a bewildered, hollow laugh.

Crackle. Pop.

The sound of the burning bonfire echoed through the dark forest.

“That kid… it’s because of Chaika, isn’t it?”

Ilya, who had been sitting and watching the fire, asked quietly. The moment Chaika’s name left Ilya’s mouth, Mikhail’s face contorted.

“…He’s so grating I can’t stand it.”

The words he spat out were saturated with irritation. It felt as if he were on the verge of exploding.

“What’s so grating? If his clothes are dirty, just have them changed. If his hair is dirty, have him washed and oiled. If he still grates on you, just send him back to Nile or to the servants’ quarters.”

Though Ilya hadn’t particularly spoken ill or cast a curse, the muscles in Mikhail’s jaw twitched. Seeing this, Ilya laughed as if it were absurd and took a long swig from the bottle.

“Instead of making the heir you were told to make, it looks like you’re about to make a concubine.”

Having drained nearly half the bottle in one go, Ilya sneered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Mikhail showed no reaction to the blatant sarcasm.

“Aren’t you denying it?”

Ilya asked with an incredulous look. Mikhail remained silent again.

“Ha! This… ha, really!”

Ilya alternated between hollow laughs and genuine laughter, as if he found it unbelievable.

“A Beta concubine, huh…”

Ilya muttered and clicked his tongue.

Ilya already had several Beta lovers. In addition to his official partners, there were many women he had passed through. In any case, children were rarely conceived between an Alpha and a Beta, and even if they were, only a Beta would be born.

In fact, Ilya had one Beta child, who lived opulently thanks to Ilya’s support. However, he never met the child. Alphas and Betas differed in their rate of aging and their lifespans. It was not a pleasant thing for a child to age and die before their parent.

“Of all things, a Beta…”

Muttering, Ilya eventually nodded with a “Hmm.”

“Well, since you loathe Omegas, a Beta is the only option… but surely it could have been a beautiful young woman, so why that…?”

Ilya didn’t finish his sentence. He couldn’t openly tell him that the boy was scrawny, unsightly, and didn’t have a single pretty bone in his body, even if Mikhail wanted him as a concubine. Instead, Ilya brought up a practical point.

“Since you said he’s a brother he cherishes dearly, Nile won’t give him up easily.”

“I have no intention of giving him a choice.”

Mikhail said flatly. Ilya shook his head.

“Regardless of the situation, Nile Lucius is an official member of the House of Marquess Lucius. You cannot forcibly take someone a high noble keeps privately without a justification. Moreover, you aren’t even in a formal marriage with Nile right now, are you? The only right you can claim over Nile is to ask him to bear an heir; that’s it.”

It was practical advice. Because there was no flaw in Ilya’s logic, Mikhail frowned.

“That child belongs to Nile, and more accurately, to Marquess Lucius.”

“Then you can just pay the Marquess and buy him.”

At Mikhail’s words, Ilya, who had been staring at the fire for a moment, spoke.

“Rather, give Nile what he wants and ask for the boy in exchange.”

“What Nile wants?”

“The heir that you desperately need and that Nile must obtain. Nile’s position here only becomes secure if he bears your child. Only then can he guarantee a comfortable and affluent life through the heir he produces. And you want Chaika.”

“…….”

“Instead of just making an heir, ask for Chaika. Once one heir is produced, you can just send Nile to another castle or villa in the territory to live comfortably.”

It was certainly a good idea.

An heir was needed anyway, and there was the Emperor’s command. He would do what had to be done eventually and get what he wanted. It was a good plan. However…

“The mere thought makes me nauseous. The fact that an Omega lives in my castle already makes me sick. And you want me to mate with such a thing?”

Mikhail spat the words out as if chewing them. Ilya rubbed his forehead with his finger and let out a long sigh. It was a problem they always clashed over.

“……. Sherl was….”

At the name Ilya mentioned, Mikhail threw the bottle he was holding. Crash. The bottle shattered in the bonfire, and the flames surged upward.

Sherl.

That was the forbidden name.

The parent of both Ilya and Mikhail, and the cause of Mikhail’s horrific hatred of Omegas.

Though Mikhail reacted violently, Ilya did not stop once he had started speaking. In this world, Ilya was the only person who could speak of him to Mikhail.

“Sherl truly loved you. And he truly loved me too. He would have given his life for us.”

“And I’m sure he loves the child he’s raising now just as much,” Mikhail sneered.

“Sherl suffered after my father died. If he hadn’t accepted the former Emperor, the former Emperor would have killed not only my father but me as well. He… Sherl only accepted the former Emperor to protect me.”

The Alphas and Omegas who formed the imperial power, royal power, and high nobility.

Though they formed the ruling class, if one looked inside, they were far more barbaric and instinctive than ordinary humans. If an Alpha wanted an Omega, they would get them by any means necessary. If that Omega already had an Alpha, they would kill that Alpha and take them. While such fights were mostly committed by immature young Alphas who had not learned self-control, there were always exceptions.

The former Emperor, Mikhail’s father, coveted Sherl—an Omega who had married and imprinted with the previous Count Basari—and murdered the Count to take him. He even attempted to kill Ilya, the child born between Sherl and Count Basari. Threatening a child’s life to force an Omega into submission is a common tactic among Alphas. Omegas with strong maternal instincts would invariably break their will and surrender if their children were threatened. Thus, Sherl went to the former Emperor to save Ilya. Mikhail was born later, between the former Emperor and Sherl.

“But what happened after that wasn’t to protect anyone.”

Mikhail spoke coldly.

The former Emperor fell deeply in love with Sherl and imprinted on him.

Imprinting.

It is an extremely dangerous act. In exchange for making the other person entirely one’s own, they share their death. The unfair part is that if the imprinted Omega dies, the Alpha dies with them, but if the Alpha dies, the Omega’s imprint is simply broken. Alphas exploited this by killing other Alphas to steal the Omegas whose imprints had been severed. Because of this, the Emperor and most high-ranking nobles avoided the act of imprinting altogether.

Both Count Basari and the former Emperor had risked their lives to imprint on Sherl. This spoke volumes about how deeply they had fallen for him. When the former Emperor reached the end of his life, he tried to kill Sherl to take him with him. He could not tolerate the thought of another Alpha possessing him. However, he could not bring himself to kill Sherl. A few months after the former Emperor’s death, Sherl left for the King of another country. Not long after, he bore that King’s child.

From an Alpha’s perspective, imprinting is an unfair contract. Yet Sherl moved from one Alpha to another as if the deaths of the two Alphas who had imprinted on him meant nothing.

Sherl, whom the former Emperor loved enough to want to kill and monopolize, yet loved too much to actually kill. But to Sherl, that love was nothing. He simply bore children, raised them, and when his partner died, he moved on to find another.

“Sherl must have had unavoidable circumstances. After all, he is from the Duchy of Ruslan,” Ilya said quietly, but as always, Mikhail did not listen. The intense sense of betrayal Mikhail felt toward Sherl was so solidified that there seemed to be no crack to break through.

“I will never embrace the likes of an Omega, nor will I ever produce a child.”

As Mikhail spoke calmly, the light of the bonfire reflected in his eyes, making them look as if they were blazing.

* * *

After spending a few days at the hunting lodge and returning, Chaika was nowhere to be seen. Seeing Mikhail scan the surroundings the moment he returned, the butler approached and informed him that he was in Nile’s quarters. Without even changing his clothes, Mikhail headed straight for Nile’s quarters.

As Mikhail walked rapidly toward the end of the hallway with a hardened expression, the servants waiting by the door opened it wide on their own. They likely judged that this was better than having him kick the door open. With the door swinging open without warning or a knock, Nile, who had been sitting on the sofa drinking tea, stood up with startled eyes.

“…Your Excellency.”

The surprise was fleeting; Nile quickly gave Mikhail a slight bow. Perhaps because of what happened the day Chaika was taken, his face was calm, completely devoid of goodwill, affection, or even a hint of pretense.

“I’ve come for my servant.”

Mikhail flicked his finger toward Chaika, who was standing awkwardly beside Nile. It irritated him to see the boy have scurried off to his brother the moment he was gone, instead of quietly cleaning or burying himself in books in the library he loved so much.

The boy, who used to scurry to him whenever and wherever Mikhail called, was different this time. He looked back and forth between Nile and Mikhail, not knowing what to do, nervously biting his lower lip. Nile raised an arm to shield Chaika and spoke in a calm, rigid tone.

“The situation was sudden the other day, so I let him go, but this child is my younger brother. You cannot use my brother as your servant, Your Excellency.”

“Everything within this castle is my property. Did you not come here knowing that?” Mikhail said coldly. However, Nile was unexpectedly stubborn. He faced Mikhail’s cold gaze without showing any sign of backing down.

“Your Excellency may own me, but not this child. This child belongs to me.”

“Then sell the child to me.”

“This child is not an object to be sold.”

Nile shook his head with a firmness Mikhail had never seen before. Mikhail bared his teeth in a cold sneer.

“Everything has a price. And every person has a price. Of course, you had a price too. You must have seen with your own eyes the payment I made for you.”

“If I am not to your liking, please send word to the House of Marquis Lucius. They will send as many new ones as it takes until you find an Omega who pleases you. But this child is not something to be sold. He is my brother. Wherever I go, he will be with me.”

Nile’s eyes were filled with determination as he looked at Mikhail. But Mikhail only sneered at him again.

“Do you have the power to protect him?”

In an instant, Mikhail stepped forward, pushed Nile aside, and scooped Chaika up, tucking him under his arm.

“Chaika!”

“Lord Nile!”

Nile, who had been knocked aside, and Chaika each called out to the other in worry.

“Close the door and ensure he does not leave without my permission.”

Mikhail gave the order the moment he left Nile’s quarters and headed toward his own bedroom with Chaika tucked under his arm.

It had been a few days since he last saw him. It would be a lie to say he hadn’t expected the boy to scurry over and welcome him upon his return. However, far from welcoming him, the boy he brought from Nile’s quarters stood with his head bowed low, remaining silent where he was set down. He looked as if he had been forcibly kidnapped.

“How stupid of you to scurry off to someone who treats you so harshly just because I was away for a moment.”

When Mikhail tapped the top of his head with a fingertip, the boy, who had been silent with his head bowed, finally spoke.

“I only went because I wanted to be by Lord Nile’s side while Your Excellency was away.”

“You went because you wanted to be by his side?”

With a snort, Mikhail abruptly pulled up Chaika’s top, revealing the whip marks.

“You still want to be by his side even though he treats you like this?”

“…Lord Nile protects me. Truly,” the boy murmured. It was as if he had been brainwashed. Frustrated, Mikhail felt like stabbing something nearby with his sword. He felt a violent urge to run back to the hunting grounds.

“…Your Excellency wouldn’t know. If it weren’t for Lord Nile, I would have….”

Seeing Mikhail’s menacing face, Chaika murmured in a small voice and bit his lower lip hard. Then he spoke again.

“Lord Nile is the only one who can protect me. It’s because Your Excellency… doesn’t know.”

“I can protect you too. Far better than the likes of Nile.”

At Mikhail’s words, spoken as if he were chewing them, Chaika suddenly gave a faint smile. The dim smile spreading across his barely visible lips looked so weak it seemed as if it might vanish at any moment.

“Your Excellency may be able to do anything, but surely there is one thing that anyone is unable to do.”

Hearing those words spoken with a smile so faint it seemed ready to extinguish, Mikhail didn’t know how to react. He wanted to grab the boy’s shoulders and shake him, and he also wanted to cut open that small head to see exactly how and to what extent he had been brainwashed. The fact that he couldn’t just toss this small thing around as he pleased… no, the fact that he wasn’t tossing him around, turned Mikhail’s stomach.

Thinking of the boy’s state—whipped, looking like a beggar, starving and being driven like a slave—he wanted to run and lash Nile with a whip immediately, and lead his private soldiers to trample Marquis Lucius’s estate and set the castle ablaze. Since passing the immature years of being swayed by instinct, there had been few situations where he had to summon this much patience.

Fortunately, Mikhail was no longer an immature and impulsive young Alpha. Instead of succumbing to the various violent impulses flashing through his mind, he ordered the servants to prepare his bathwater.

As he threw off the clothes that had become dirty from spending several days at the hunting grounds, the boy quickly gathered the clothes, looking pleased to have a task. He then busied himself taking out a shirt to change into, new clothes, shoes, preparing a towel for drying, and polishing the dirty leather boots.

A bathtub filled with hot water was prepared. Mikhail threw off his last remaining shirt and stepped into the tub, leaning back. A servant approached with a cloth to wash his body. Mikhail gestured for all the servants to leave and instead called Chaika, who was polishing the boots.

“Come here.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

Even without his name being called, the boy knew immediately that he was being summoned and scurried over. It was pathetic that such a trivial action felt commendable. Mikhail threw the cloth the servant had left onto the boy’s chest.

“Wash me.”

After speaking briefly and leaning back comfortably, the boy swallowed hard and rolled up the sleeves of both arms. Then, as he had observed while lingering nearby, he began to wash Mikhail’s body with the cloth.

He started with the hands. It took time just to meticulously wash each finger, the backs of the hands, and the palms. The boy was very serious, focusing intensely as if he couldn’t miss a single small part, just as he did when cleaning furniture. It took a long time to move up to the arms, elbows, and forearms, but instead of feeling bored, Mikhail watched the intensely focused boy.

Having washed both arms, the boy leaned in further and began to rub the neck, chest, and shoulders. The bedroom was quiet. The only sounds were the splashing of water whenever the cloth was dipped and removed, and the boy’s slightly labored, wheezing breaths from the effort of washing.

It was fine up to the arms, but to wash the chest, the movements had to be larger. Because of Mikhail’s tall stature and broad shoulders, the boy’s upper body naturally leaned far over the bathtub to reach the opposite side of the chest. The servants who usually did this were quite tall with long arms, so it was fine, but the small and petite boy had arms to match his size, and they were a bit too short to wash the entire chest in one go.

The white linen shirt he had been dressed in for work sagged and repeatedly dipped into the water whenever he leaned over the tub. Focused on his work and wheezing, the boy didn’t seem to notice that his clothes were gradually becoming soaked. Or rather, even if he had noticed, he likely wouldn’t have cared. By the time he finished washing the chest and shoulders and pulled away from the tub, the white top was completely drenched and clung tightly to his body.

“…Ah.”

Only then did the boy realize the weight and dampness of the wet fabric clinging to him, and he let out an ambiguous sound while looking down at himself. It was unclear if he had just realized it or if he hadn’t known he was so wet.

With the white linen shirt soaked and clinging to him, his fair skin and the contours of his body were revealed in full. Amidst the all-white fabric, two red nipples stood out prominently, as if asking to be touched.

“Now the legs….”

As if he didn’t care that he looked like a drowned rat, the boy tried to move toward the lower part of the tub. Mikhail snatched him into the bath.

Splash!

The boy, practically flying through the air, sank deep into the bathtub. Soon, a brown head popped up, and he let out a completely unrefined scream, “Uwaah!” He flailed his hands and arms about as if he had fallen into the middle of a vast ocean rather than a bathtub.

“Pathetic.”

Mikhail clicked his tongue and grabbed the boy by the waist, seating him on his own thigh. Once his hips were on a firm support and his upper body was out of the water, the boy gasped for air as if he had just been saved.

“Y-Your Excellency….”

Having finally grasped the situation, the boy called Mikhail in a tiny voice. Surprisingly, there was a hint of resentment in his voice, as if Mikhail had almost killed him.

“In all my life, I’ve never seen someone as insignificant and pathetic as you.”

As Mikhail clicked his tongue in disbelief, the boy pouted his red lips as if he felt quite wronged.

Normally, the sight of the boy drenched from head to toe should have been unsightly, but it wasn’t at all. The white cloth clinging to his entire body revealed every curve of his thin, pale frame while simultaneously hiding it precariously. Whether from surprise or from falling into hot water, the lips visible beneath the brown hair looked not just reddish, but ripe red. The nipples on his chest were the same.

Water droplets dripped from his wet brown hair. The hair, which was always fluffy and disheveled, was now wet and clung flat against his face. He had always looked that way, but being wet made him look even more uncomfortable.

Mikhail very slowly raised his hand and cupped Chaika’s cheek. The boy’s face was so small that his cheek fit entirely within one hand with room to spare.

“……. Your Excellency….”

The boy called out in a small, whispering voice with his red, tiny lips. Plop. A ripple formed in his heart, as if a pebble had been dropped into still water.

‘Instead of making the heir I was told to make, it looks like I’m going to make a mistress.’

‘A mistress, huh….’

Mikhail murmured silently while cupping Chaika’s cheek. He didn’t even know this boy’s face yet. And yet, he couldn’t refute Ilya’s words. No, he didn’t want to refute them.

Even if not a mistress, there had been many relationships to satisfy his desires. Especially after his immature years, whenever his rut cycle arrived, he spent frenzied times with Beta women. But he had never had a lasting relationship with anyone, nor had he felt the need or desired one.

And yet, for this boy with a scrawny body, miserably frizzy brown hair, and hideous scars on his body… a boy so insignificant that there wasn’t a single redeeming quality no matter how much he looked….

Perhaps Mikhail’s gaze was too burdensome. The boy shifted his body slightly, trying to get out of the tub. Mikhail held the boy’s waist, keeping him immobile on his thigh, and removed the hand that had been cupping his cheek. Then, he reached out and slightly lifted the brown hair from which water was dripping.

“Your Excellency!”

The boy suddenly cried out, almost a scream, and grabbed Mikhail’s wrist as he tried to lift his hair.

“D-don’t do it. Please don’t!”

Holding the wrist with both hands, the boy trembled violently as if he had been thrown into a snowy field in the dead of winter.

“Please don’t. Don’t look. Please don’t look.”

The plea, delivered with a trembling body and voice, was beyond desperate; it was harrowing. Water droplets fell into the bathtub. It wasn’t water dripping from wet hair. They were tears. Tears of fear.

He could have easily shaken off the hands gripping his wrist. But instead, Mikhail spoke quietly.

“During the war, I saw a man whose head was hit by a scabbard, causing his eyeball to pop out and dangle. I saw a man burned so badly that his eyes, nose, and mouth shriveled up, leaving only a breathing hole the size of a pinky nail. I saw a soldier running with a spear, unaware that half his face had been blown away, and I saw those infected with plagues whose bodies and faces were covered in blisters that burst and leaked pus. Those whose noses were cut, ears severed, tongues cut, jawbones blown away…. When you wage war, you see such things until you’re sick of them.”

Having said that, Mikhail gently grasped Chaika’s hands, which were clutching his wrist, and moved them away.

“So it’s alright. It doesn’t matter how hideous you are. No matter what your face looks like, whether your nose is cut, whether you have no eyeballs, or whether hideous scars remain… it’s alright. I won’t be surprised.”

One of the two hands that had been gripping Mikhail’s wrist slowly slid down, and soon the other hand released as well. However, as if still terrified of revealing his face, his body continued to tremble. Hic. Sob. The small, sobbing cries continued. Despite being so afraid, he had decided to show Mikhail his face.

To ensure the boy wasn’t startled, Mikhail very slowly took the hair covering half the face and pushed it aside. He took a handful and tucked it behind the right ear, then took another handful and tucked it behind the left ear. Soon, the boy’s face, seen for the first time, was fully revealed before Mikhail.

“…….”

Mikhail held his breath. No, he had completely forgotten how to breathe. That tiny, pale face was breathtakingly beautiful. Golden eyelashes, damp with moisture, fluttered as they lifted from their downward cast. Teardrops pooling in the corners of the eyes grew larger, absorbing the color of the purple pupils before finally splashing down. Reflecting the flickering candlelight, those purple eyes gazed at Mikhail, holding a mysterious and deep light like amethysts.

“…….”

Mikhail could not speak. No, he was unable to speak. It felt as if he had forgotten both how to breathe and how to talk.

It would have been fine if the boy were scarred. Even if there were deep scars, or if he were ugly and ordinary, it would have been fine. He was who he was, so that would have been acceptable. But this…

As Mikhail continued to stare for a long time without a word or any expression, the boy’s eyes crumpled, and amethyst-like tears began to fall in droplets.

“T-that’s why I told you that you shouldn’t look… that you shouldn’t have looked….”

Mikhail pulled the sobbing boy close and hugged him tightly. The small body, which fit perfectly against his chest, trembled slightly from the crying, yet leaned obediently into Mikhail’s embrace. His heart hammered. The sound of his own heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears like war drums. It felt as if his ribs might shatter, unable to withstand the violently beating heart. It didn’t feel like he was sitting in warm bathwater; instead, it felt as if he were submerged in lava, his blood boiling throughout his entire body.

“…I’d rather….”

Mikhail barely managed to open his lips.

“I’d rather you have been hideous and ugly.”

“…Your Grace?”

“If only you had been….”

Muttering as if to himself, Mikhail hugged the boy even tighter. He felt that if he embraced this small, insignificant body as he pleased, the ribs might break, so he couldn’t even apply force as much as he wanted.

“Because of you, I….”

“Your Grace?”

The boy called out, sounding as if he were suffocating from the tight embrace. But Mikhail could no longer say anything. He couldn’t even breathe properly. All he could do was hold the boy as tightly as possible without breaking him.

He didn’t know how long he sat there in the bathtub, holding the boy. Until the steaming water turned lukewarm and eventually grew cold, Mikhail could neither let the boy go nor utter a single word. The afterglow of the intense thrill felt as if it would last a lifetime.

He probably could have stayed like that for days. That is, if the boy hadn’t started shivering as his body temperature dropped once the water turned cold. The boy must have been enduring the cold in silence, for when Mikhail snapped back to his senses, the boy was trembling violently, his face pale.

“If you’re cold, you should say so. You idiot.”

Mikhail stood up abruptly from the bathtub while still holding the boy. He set him down on the floor beside the tub, steadied him as he stumbled, and stripped off the wet clothes. However, the fabric, soaked through and clinging to the body, would not come off easily. Mikhail simply ripped the clothes down the middle and threw them back into the bathtub.

“Gasp!”

Suddenly naked, the boy let out an ungraceful shout in alarm and crouched down on the spot.

“What is there to hide on that scrawny body of yours?”

Mikhail sneered with his words, but his eyes had already licked over the boy’s exposed nakedness.

Because the body was so petite and small, Mikhail was able to wrap the cloth he usually used to wipe himself around the boy, rolling him up like a cocoon. Mikhail willingly rolled him up like a cocoon and placed him in front of the fireplace. The boy, who struggled at first, quickly grew quiet as he began to feel the warmth of the hearth.

After calling a servant to clear the bathtub, washing himself, and dressing, Mikhail went to the fireplace to find the boy nodding off, intoxicated by the warmth. A hollow laugh escaped him, thinking that the boy could sleep so soundly despite what had just happened.

“…Your Grace?”

The boy called out softly, perhaps awakened by the small laugh. Wrapped tightly in the cloth so that he couldn’t even move his arms, he wriggled his body as if wanting to pull out a hand. Instead of freeing the boy’s arm, Mikhail lifted the small body and placed it on his lap. The wet brown hair, having almost dried in the heat of the fireplace, had turned frizzy and coarse, like a dog’s fur.

Mikhail reached out again and pushed back the disheveled hair that covered half of the boy’s face. Perhaps because he had already shown his face, there was almost no resistance this time. He simply turned his head to the side as if avoiding eye contact, wearing an expression that hovered between crying and not.

Unlike before, when he had seen the boy’s face without any mental preparation, he could now look at him more calmly. The face above the tiny, white chin—the only part that had ever been visible—was white, small, clear, and lovely.

How should he describe it? He simply couldn’t take his eyes off him. He didn’t want to. It wasn’t a simple matter of being pretty or beautiful. Perhaps—no, certainly—there were plenty of humans more beautiful than this boy. Even Nile, who stayed at the castle, possessed a beautiful appearance. But this wasn’t a matter of external beauty. It couldn’t be explained in words. It just… was.

“I understand one reason why Nile made you look like that.”

As Mikhail spoke, the boy’s drooping eyes instantly brightened.

“Yes. Lord Nile did that to protect me. He always did. Always.”

The boy’s trust in Nile seemed almost infinite.

Now that he had seen the boy’s face, Mikhail had no choice but to admit part of the claim that Nile had tried to protect him. He was a child born from a forbidden affair with a Beta. The Beta father must have died miserably, and the Omega likely didn’t fare much better.

The fate of this child born in between depended on a single word from the Alpha who owned the Omega. Even if he were a Beta, a child with this level of beauty would be perfect for selling to a brothel or a nobleman. Especially if his face had been discovered while staying at the house of Marquis Lucius—who was disparagingly called the Empire’s slave trader—he would have been sold off without a doubt.

“If it were simply to protect you, he only needed to hide your appearance. There would be no need to dress you in rags, starve you, and beat you as if you were a slave.”

“Lord Nile never starved me. And the beating… that only happened when I did something wrong. He was afraid I might get caught because of a mistake. He was afraid we would be separated. He did it because he was scared.”

Seeing the boy, who was wrapped up like a cocoon, still taking Nile’s side made Mikhail feel unpleasant.

“Are you stupid, or do you just want to believe that?”

“…….”

The boy fell silent at Mikhail’s question.

Though he seemed timid, fearful, and stupid in everything he did, Mikhail already knew the boy who had evaded his pursuit. He knew the boy could move cautiously and covertly, and that he could be shrewd and cunning. The boy was no fool.

Mikhail haphazardly ruffled the boy’s coarse, poor-textured hair. It certainly felt like malnourished dog fur or a broom, but the scratchy sensation in his hand wasn’t bad. As he ruffled the hair, the boy’s characteristic bitter herbal scent wafted strongly.

“Is this how you’ve been walking around, dyeing your hair?”

Mikhail buried his nose in the boy’s hair and inhaled the scent. Just smelling it left a bitter taste in his mouth, and it felt as if part of his sense of smell was being paralyzed. But it wasn’t bad. Since it was the scent that always clung to the boy, it felt like his natural body odor.

“…Yeees-.”

The boy answered, trailing off. When Mikhail lifted his chin, the boy’s eyes were half-blinking, appearing sleepy. It made sense; he had been tense for a long time, suddenly revealed his face, shivered in cold water, and then warmed himself by the fire—it was time for sleep to take over.

Holding the boy’s chin, Mikhail gazed hungrily at the purple eyes reflecting the firelight and the golden eyelashes resting softly above them. The frizzy brown hair must have originally been a beautiful blonde, just like those eyelashes. If he hadn’t dyed it with potent herbs, the texture would surely have been as soft and glossy as the eyelashes.

“Nile must have struggled to hide you.”

Thinking that Mikhail was praising Nile in his own way, the boy nodded earnestly even in his sleepiness.

“Yes. Because of me, he was always cautious, attentive, and worried a lot.”

Once again, it was a statement filled with deep trust for Nile. Thinking that Mikhail had begun to view Nile quite favorably, the boy softly added one more thing.

“So, I hope Your Grace doesn’t misunderstand Lord Nile… and… p-please be… kind to him….”

Having said that much, the boy noticed the change in Mikhail’s gaze with supernatural intuition and shut his mouth. As expected, contrary to his behavior, he was no fool. Rather, he was quick-witted and smart.

“…Um…. When I have time left after working, may I visit Lord Nile for a little while?”

The boy asked cautiously and quickly added,

“I’ll only go quickly when I’ve finished all my work and have time left.”

This was immediately after confirming that Nile had protected the boy in his own way. It was bad timing to say no to a boy who held such deep trust and gratitude for Nile. No, in the first place, was Mikhail Castilla the kind of person to care about such things? Mikhail was a man who would spit curses even in front of the Emperor if he felt like it. Yet, he couldn’t do that in front of this boy. In fact, he was becoming less and less able to.

“I want to reassure Lord Nile occasionally so he doesn’t worry.”

The boy delivered the final blow. As he looked up pleadingly with those purple eyes emitting a mysterious light, Mikhail felt less like he was being pleaded with and more like he was being pressured. It was absurd.

“…Fine.”

Having finally extracted a positive answer from Mikhail, the boy smiled brightly for the first time. The sight of him smiling radiantly, pulling up the corners of his mouth and curving his eyes, made Mikhail’s breath hitch. Mikhail pulled him into a sudden, tight embrace. The spreading, bitter herbal scent entwined around Mikhail like the pheromones of a female calling to males.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

The boy whispered softly while held tight. He felt that even receiving a declaration of surrender from the Emperor wouldn’t be as joyful as the gratitude he had just received.

When he first discovered the boy in the study, tracked his traces, and finally captured him—the worry he had then about what to do with this insignificant creature had now completely vanished. The victory and exhilaration felt after chasing down and striking a strong, beautiful prey. The satisfaction of slitting that throat and pulling out the liver to quench hunger and thirst.

But what he gained from chasing this boy was completely different. This hunt, the reason for hunting him, was to possess him like this. To wrap him up, hold him tight in his arms, inhale his scent, look into his eyes, look at his face….

Crackle.

The sound of wood burning came from the fireplace. Looking down, the boy, wrapped like a cocoon in his arms, had fallen asleep at some point, breathing softly with his lips slightly parted.

“I can’t tell if he’s brave or just clueless.”

Mikhail muttered softly and lay down on the bed while still holding the boy. Despite being incredibly sensitive, the boy must have been exhausted, for he didn’t wake once while Mikhail climbed into bed and hugged him tight. Mikhail closed his eyes while holding the boy. Something was different from usual. Very different.

It felt as if a part of him, which he hadn’t even known was lacking, had been filled. It felt as if a part of him, which he hadn’t realized had disappeared, had returned. A feeling of being completely perfect. It was a feeling that could not be expressed in words.

With his nose buried in the boy’s frizzy hair, inhaling the subtly addictive bitter herbal scent, Mikhail thought for a long time about that strange and perfect sense of fulfillment while feeling the body in his arms. There should be a word that fit this feeling. It was on the tip of his tongue.

Perfect. Complete. Whole…. Even those words were insufficient.

After thinking of a fitting word for a long time, Mikhail suddenly let out a faint snort and muttered.

“Mine.”

That was it. He could attach any word he wanted, but in the end, it was that. Mine.

* * *

The maid who brought the tea and refreshments bowed her head. Seeing the maid’s gaze linger on Chaika for a long time, Nile signaled for everyone in the room to leave.

Sitting across from Nile at the table, Chaika looked entirely different from before. The rag-like clothes were gone, replaced by luxurious attire that perfectly matched the current fashion. The fabric was of the highest quality, and the buttons on the collar were made of amber and silver. He was dressed no less than the children of high-ranking nobles. The only regrettable point was that his hair was still an unkempt, frizzy mop that covered nearly half of his face.

“Should I call this a success?”

Nile spoke softly after confirming with his eyes that the door was firmly closed. Chaika smirked as he lifted the teacup to his lips.

“It’s still a long way off.”

“Looking at your clothes, it doesn’t seem that way. Nor did his attitude when he came to fetch you. In your own words, shouldn’t we say the Duke didn’t just take the bait, but swallowed it whole?”

Instead of answering, Chaika carefully took a sip of the hot tea. Watching Chaika remain silent while staring blankly into the teacup, Nile toyed with the locket beneath his clothes. Despite the significant progress, Chaika showed no signs of joy or excitement. Rather, he looked slightly more exhausted than usual. Perhaps it was natural. Dealing with Duke Castilla by his side all the time was no ordinary task. Especially considering Chaika’s physical condition.

After a long silence, Chaika let out a faint sigh. It was a signal that his thoughts had ended. The corners of Chaika’s firmly closed mouth lifted, carrying a faint sneer.

“He is a big fish among big fish. He’s not an opponent so simple that it ends just because he nibbled and took the bait. Powerful creatures, even when their mouths are pierced by the hook, either snap the fishing line or tear their own flesh to escape. That’s why I have to make him swallow it deep into his belly.”

Having said that, Chaika sipped the slightly cooled tea. Watching Chaika quietly, Nile spoke with a dissatisfied expression.

“The problem is that you aren’t simply the fisherman; you yourself are the bait.”

“To catch a big fish like the Duke, I have to offer my own body as bait.”

Chaika spoke as if such a price were nothing.

“Even if the fish is hauled up, the bait might have already been digested in its belly.”

“Or the bait might tear apart all the internal organs inside the big fish’s belly.”

Every word Chaika spoke was calm and quiet, yet steeped in venom. Nile eventually gave up on persuading or stopping Chaika. As he always did.

“That frizzy mop of hair, that scrawny body, those rag-like clothes…. To think the Duke fell for such a sight. No one would believe it if I told them.”

Nile changed the subject.

“I understand that you piqued his interest to make him chase you. He followed his interest and eventually found you….”

Having said that much, Nile frowned as if he couldn’t understand it at all.

“Exactly what… what did he fall for in you? He hasn’t even seen your face, and he wasn’t attracted by your pheromones. Right now, you’re just a scrawny, pitiful errand boy who is mistreated by me.”

Chaika laughed softly, then set down the teacup and spoke.

“A creature so small, weak, and insignificant that far from being a threat, he is merely pitiful and pathetic. Despite that, he tries his best at everything, though even that is insignificant. He found a creature who was mistreated and abused in a filthy state, and so he became the savior. A creature so weak he looks like he’d die if poked, yet he scampers over the moment he’s called, and is overjoyed just to be spoken to. I gave him a bit of help that was nothing special, yet he worships and looks up to me as if I were the savior of his life.”

“…….”

“He’s a man born as a Dominant Alpha and royalty, raised without lacking a single thing. He was born with strength, so he must have lived his life crushing any strong opponent without difficulty. He must have lived his whole life being revered. But you see, even that wasn’t enough. Alphas want to be revered as great beings by those weaker than them, especially by their females. They fill their pride as males by possessing a female who reveres them like the heavens, respects them, and obeys them. Only then do they feel they have become complete males. I made the Duke that way. He’s probably feeling proud of himself for saving me, fitting me with expensive clothes and shoes, feeding me good food, and giving me a warm, nice place to sleep. And he will fill his satisfaction as a male by receiving my infinite trust and gratitude in return.”

Nile let out a low, heavy sigh. It was a sigh laden with frustration. Chaika remained indifferent.

“You should try using it yourself someday when you need to. If you play the role of a great male saving a pitiful, wretched soul, any Alpha will fall for it easily. Even without relying on your beauty or pheromones.”

“You’re too twisted, Chaika,” Nile said, sounding pitying.

“I know. But it works, doesn’t it? Then that’s all that matters.”

Chaika answered with a smile and rose from his seat.

“Now that the bait has been taken, I’m going to make them swallow it deep into their gut. Both you and I will have a lot to do. There must be no mistakes. Not a single moment of carelessness. As long as we each stay true to our roles, everything will go according to plan.”

“What if the Duke reacts differently than you expect?”

“Even if it fails, you’ll be fine. You can just return to the Marquis Lucius estate, take the share you were promised, and leave for somewhere far away.”

“…Chaika.”

A shadow of worry crossed Nile’s face. Chaika walked around the table and approached Nile. He gently stroked Nile’s honey-blonde hair.

“Nile, you’re too weak. Even after everything you’ve been through, you haven’t overcome the typical weaknesses of an Omega. You can’t be heartless, vile, or cold. Especially when your child’s safety is held hostage, you’re completely at the mercy of your opponent. If you could just throw away that frail heart, we could live as predators like Alphas, rather than prey.”

“…Is that why you have such a good assistant in me?”

“I suppose so.”

Chaika smiled thinly and removed his hand from Nile’s hair. Then, he leaned down and whispered, pressing a light kiss to Nile’s cheek.

“So, I hope you continue to perform your role faithfully.”

Straightening his posture, Chaika took a deep breath. The corners of his mouth, which had been curled up in a mocking smirk, dropped. His rigid back slumped slightly, and his open chest curled inward timidly. His raised chin lowered, and his stride became quiet and cautious.

Opening the closed door, Chaika bowed deeply toward Nile.

“I’ll come back again after getting His Grace’s permission, Lord Nile.”

Chaika bowed to each of the maids standing beyond the door before he began walking toward the Duke’s quarters.

* * *

“I’m back.”

The door opened slightly, and the small fellow popped inside and bowed his head. Mikhail, who had been so restless he’d almost stormed into Nile’s quarters, didn’t even look up; he simply frowned, crumpling the documents in his hand.

“Why are you so late?”

At Mikhail’s words, Chaika looked up to check the clock on the wall. As promised before he left, exactly one hour… no, he had returned before the hour was up, so he couldn’t be called late.

“I’m sorry. I’ll come back faster next time.”

Despite confirming that the promised time hadn’t passed, the boy simply scurried over and apologized. The irritation and anxiety that had surged to the top of Mikhail’s head vanished instantly like smoke.

Mikhail stood Chaika in front of him, turning him this way and that to check his attire. Clothes made of the finest fabric, meticulous embroidery, buttons made of gems and silver, and shoes made of soft leather. Even a brooch decorated with silver and jewels. Having sent him dressed like this, Nile—and indeed anyone else in the castle—would have roughly understood Mikhail’s intentions. That was the reason he had granted the request for Chaika to visit Nile occasionally.

Without a word, Mikhail patted his own thigh. Chaika hesitated for a moment before cautiously turning and settling his hips onto Mikhail’s thigh. When Mikhail pulled him closer and sat him firmly on his lap, Chaika flinched and shrugged his shoulders.

“I can’t tell if I’ve sat a person or a rabbit on my lap.”

Mikhail muttered, kneading Chaika’s thighs, which felt devoid of any weight despite being sat upon. Usually, even if other parts of the body were lean, the thighs had some fat and muscle, but Chaika’s thighs offered no satisfying grip.

“Y-Your Grace….”

Chaika shrank back. Mikhail let out a snort and moved his hand, this time touching the buttocks, which were at least somewhat plump.

“Your Grace!”

The boy, who had been still everywhere else, leaped in shock as his buttocks were kneaded. Of course, since Mikhail was holding his waist, he couldn’t move an inch.

“Seeing how surprised you are when I touch your backside, it seems you do know something, don’t you?”

As Mikhail whispered in a suggestive voice into his ear, Chaika shook his head vigorously. They say a strong denial is an admission. Mikhail laughed lowly.

Only Mikhail and Chaika were in the office. Calling it an office was a stretch, as the managers did all the actual work; Mikhail merely checked the final reports and signed them occasionally. Still, he stayed holed up in the office because it was the perfect place to spend time alone with Chaika. Of course, there was no place better than the bedroom for being alone, but they weren’t at that stage yet.

“I feed you until you’re bursting every day, yet you don’t put on any weight at all.”

Mikhail clicked his tongue, whispering into Chaika’s ear as if talking to a pig to be slaughtered at a festival. Lately, Mikhail had been sitting Chaika beside him for all three meals, feeding him every kind of food until the boy pleaded that he couldn’t eat anymore. Not stopping there, he made him eat every biscuit and dessert that came with tea. It was to put flesh on his skeletal frame.

However, perhaps because the boy had a long-standing habit of eating very little and infrequently, his stomach was so small that he would shake his head after a few pieces of meat, claiming he was full. For Mikhail, who could polish off several pheasants in one sitting when hungry, it was maddening. He couldn’t force-feed him, either; once he had forced a few more bites, he had watched the boy vomit it all back up.

“You really are high-maintenance.”

Mikhail clicked his tongue and arbitrarily kneaded Chaika’s thighs, buttocks, flat stomach, and waist. Chaika, seemingly unable to get used to it, kept his shoulders hunched and let out ungraceful sounds like hik and hit, which only made Mikhail feel like he was going crazy because it was so trivial and cute.

“Your Grace….”

When he kneaded the buttocks a bit more firmly and secretly, Chaika finally called out in a slightly whimpering voice. Ah, honestly. Mikhail muttered to himself. He was dying to tease him. But at the same time, he wanted to do nothing but good things for him. Of course, the desire to tease was stronger.

“Try calling me Mikhail.”

Mikhail commanded, biting the white, delicate curve of the ear hidden amidst the frizzy hair. Chaika stiffened with a small ugh and shook his head. To dare refuse and not obey a command was the perfect excuse to tease him. Mikhail pulled out the shirt tucked into the trousers and slid his hand inside. He placed his hand on the soft, flat stomach and the chest above it. As the touch hit bare skin, Chaika twisted his waist back and forth in a semblance of resistance.

“Ah! P-please don’t. If you touch me there…, I-I’m embarrassed… Your Grace.”

Whether he knew that the pleas he uttered while twisting his waist only amused Mikhail further or not, Chaika clung to Mikhail’s arm and pleaded, almost sobbing.

“I’ll stop if you call me Mikhail.”

Mikhail whispered again. Even so, he didn’t think this timid and cautious creature could call him by his name so easily. He was simply using it as an excuse to tease him a bit more.

“B-but how could I do such a thing… You are the Duke….”

“The Duke is ordering you, so you must do as you’re told.”

Mikhail whispered, unable to hide his amusement. Then, he moved the hand that had been caressing between the chest and stomach and lightly flicked the small protrusion on the chest.

“Eek!”

Chaika jumped.

“Your Grace!!”

He was so startled that he actually screamed. Mikhail finally couldn’t hold it back and burst into giggles. Chaika turned his head and pouted resentfully. Seeing his lips twitch, it seemed he wanted to spit out some words of complaint, but since his opponent was the Duke, he didn’t dare make a sound. Mikhail stopped teasing him and withdrew his hand from the shirt. He then brushed back the shaggy hair that covered half the face to reveal Chaika’s features.

“…….”

The sunlight streaming through the wide window poured directly onto Chaika’s white, small face. A different sensation than when he had seen him under the candlelight of a dark night rushed through Mikhail’s entire body. The purple eyes, which had felt secret and mysterious when reflecting candlelight, were now shining clear and transparent under the bright sun. The long golden eyelashes decorating them trembled briefly.

“…Your Grace….”

Chaika murmured, casting his eyes slightly downward. He seemed terribly embarrassed and awkward to have his face exposed under the bright sunlight. Even if the white, small, clear face wasn’t conventionally beautiful, there was something about it that strongly stimulated Mikhail’s senses.

The fact that this small, fragile, foolish, yet simultaneously shrewd, cunning, and cautious creature was sitting quietly on his lap made something swell greatly in his chest. It was excitement, satisfaction, fullness, and pleasure. It was something else that was difficult to name individually.

“Call me Mikhail, Chaika.”

Mikhail leaned down and whispered, pressing his forehead against Chaika’s. Their faces drew extremely close, their foreheads lightly tapping, and they looked directly into each other’s eyes. Mikhail saw his own reflection in the clear, transparent purple eyes. The purple eyes, filled with Mikhail, trembled slightly.

“Call me Mikhail, Chaika.”

Mikhail whispered again, this time touching noses. As the tips of their noses met, he could feel Chaika’s ragged breathing. Below the small, straight nose were the small lips that had caught his eye from the first moment they met because of their reddish hue.

“…….”

The small, red lips parted slightly, as if about to make a sound. Mikhail waited for his name to emerge from those minutely twitching lips.

“……. M….”

After a long while, the lips that had let out a small syllable closed, then parted again to let out a sound as soft as a breeze.

“…Mikhail….”

“…….”

His breath caught at those mere three syllables. Mikhail held his breath, staring into the purple eyes without even blinking. Perhaps thinking that Mikhail hadn’t heard him, Chaika frowned slightly and moved his lips again. As if drawing out all the strength and courage in his body, he tensed up and called out in a slightly louder voice than before.

“…Mikhail.”

The thing that had been swelling in his chest as if it would burst finally exploded at that moment.

Mikhail grabbed the back of the small head and kissed him. No, it would be more accurate to say he swallowed the lips. The small, red lips were as soft as he had imagined. They were so soft it felt as if they would melt and disappear if he sucked on them a few times.

“Uuu-…. Mm. Mm.”

Again, the boy let out ungraceful moans and twisted his waist. But he became quiet once Mikhail bit his lip. Good boy. Mikhail wanted to praise him, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull his lips away. He simply sucked, licked, bit, and then sucked, licked, and bit again. He had never tasted anything sweeter, softer, or more delicious in the world.

Mine.

That word was driven deep into his mind and heart like a wedge.

Mine. Only mine. My own. Something only I should have.

That strongly embedded thought drifted through his mind and eventually filled it completely. It felt as if his body was screaming, This is mine. An Alpha’s possessiveness is bound to manifest strongly regardless of whether it’s an object, a person, or a place, but Mikhail had never felt such intense possessiveness. It was a possessiveness so powerful, as if he were born solely to possess this, that he feared his reason might be paralyzed.

Is this what love is? If so, then all the foolish love stories floating around the world must be sublime truths.

“Huu… ugh….”

Chaika clung to Mikhail’s collar, pleading as if sobbing. Chaika’s face, who hadn’t had room to breathe while his lips were being frantically sucked and licked, was turning pale. Mikhail forced himself to pull away from the lips he didn’t want to leave. He then hugged the panting Chaika, stroking his small back to calm him down. To think he couldn’t even kiss as he pleased—he really was a high-maintenance fellow.

“Breathe in slowly and breathe out slowly. Yes. Just like that.”

Mikhail, having caused the state, tenderly soothed Chaika, telling him to breathe properly. After catching his breath for a while, the boy suddenly tapped Mikhail’s chest with his fist. Then, as if afraid of being punished, he froze, shrugging his shoulders.

It was hard to tell if that little tap was a resentful strike or if he had just bumped into him while clenching his fist. To call it a strike was an overstatement, as it was so weak he barely felt something touch him. Regardless, based on the reaction that followed, it seemed he had intended to hit him out of resentment.

When Mikhail let out a hollow laugh in sheer absurdity, the boy protested timidly.

“…Y-you wouldn’t let me breathe.”

“I was kissing you.”

“S-still, you wouldn’t let me breathe.”

For a fearful and timid creature to make the same protest twice meant he had gathered a lot of courage. Mikhail considered giving him a flick on the forehead, but decided against it since there was nowhere to flick that didn’t look too fragile.

“From now on, call me Mikhail when it’s just the two of us.”

“…….”

The way he pressed his lips together suggested he absolutely couldn’t do that. Mikhail suggestively touched the lips that were not just bright red but plumply swollen from the kiss. Was he worried about losing his breath again? The boy quickly nodded.

“Yes. Mikhail-nim.”

The voice adding -nim at the end was quite determined. It was an expression of his will that he could never do it without that title. Mikhail smiled and pinched the boy’s cheek. Uuup. The way he struggled, letting out ungraceful moans, was so cute that Mikhail wanted to eat him whole. No, since a mere kiss caused this much chaos, he would have to put in a lot of effort before actually devouring him. A lot.

* * *

“Your Grace. Did you summon me?”

A shabby-looking herbalist, who had entered the audience chamber following the butler, bowed his waist in greeting. Mikhail handed the butler a leaf of a medicinal herb he had been twirling between his fingers. The butler took it and presented it to the herbalist.

“Do you know what this is?”

At Mikhail’s question, the herbalist examined the leaf closely. After studying it for a long time with a deep frown, the herbalist shook his head.

“It is something I have never seen before. However, judging by the strong scent and the deep red line running through the center of the leaf, there is a very high possibility that it is a poisonous plant.”

“The possibility that it is used for dyeing hair?”

“Dyeing… may I tear a small piece of this?”

When Mikhail nodded, the herbalist tore off the edge of the leaf and crushed it against his palm using his fingernail. After checking the smell and color of the crushed part, he shook his head.

“This is completely useless for dyeing hair or fabric.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. I am certain.”

The herbalist’s words were firm. He was the oldest and most experienced herbalist in the vicinity. For him to be so assertive in front of Duke Castilla meant he was willing to stake his life on that certainty.

“Can you find out what this is and what it is used for?”

The herbalist hesitated for a moment at Mikhail’s question. Once he nodded, he would have to find out even if it cost him his life.

“If you find out about this, I will grant you a great reward.”

“I will do my best.”

“Find out as quickly as possible.”

As soon as Mikhail finished speaking, the butler held out a small pouch. When the herbalist took the pouch, the sound of gold coins clinking echoed from within.

“I do not care how much it costs to find out about this, so if it is not enough, seek out my butler.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The herbalist withdrew from the audience chamber, carrying his pouch of gold coins and the herbal leaves. Mikhail, sitting in the imposing chair that stood solitary in the vast chamber, rested his chin on his hand and clicked his tongue. He had wanted to know the identity of the plant immediately, and it was frustrating that things weren’t going his way.

“Where is Chaika?”

“He has not yet emerged from the library,” the butler replied instantly upon Mikhail’s inquiry.

The things that excited Chaika the most were being assigned to clean the library or being granted permission to visit Nile’s quarters. On days he cleaned the library, he would return completely exhausted from working too hard, yet he always seemed to find a gap in time to read at least one book he wanted. He was likely preoccupied with reading all day today after finishing his cleaning.

The boy was incredibly sensitive. Mikhail had exercised considerable caution even in the simple task of plucking a single leaf from the colony of plants the boy was secretly cultivating. He had brought it himself to ensure no trace of someone’s visit remained and that the disappearance of a single leaf would not be noticed. It was for the same reason he had met the herbalist in the seldom-used audience chamber rather than his office—to avoid leaving any trace of a strongly scented herb entering his workspace.

“Send someone to press him every two or three days.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

As the butler bowed, Mikhail finally rose from the chair.

On days when he visited Nile’s quarters or cleaned the library, the boy always made time to stop by his secret garden. On such days, the scent emanating from him grew stronger, making it impossible not to notice.

The boy had made excuses, claiming it was something he used to dye his hair, but Mikhail didn’t believe him. That said, he didn’t want to force the boy to confess a secret he was trying so hard to hide. Since he had already tasked the herbalist with uncovering its identity today, he would find out naturally soon enough.

After meticulously washing his hands to remove the scent of the plant, Mikhail headed toward the library. He intended to give some snacks to the boy, who was likely cleaning diligently right now. Since three meals a day and three snack times were clearly not enough to put weight on him, Mikhail simply stuffed food into the boy’s mouth whenever it crossed his mind. Even if the boy would shake his head and claim to be full after just a few chews, it wasn’t a waste of effort if feeding him a dozen times a day helped him gain weight.

The scale of Mikhail’s private library was truly magnificent. Books filled all four walls, and massive, heavy bookshelves stood in rows across the vast room. Naturally, those shelves were packed with all sorts of rare volumes collected from across the continent. Some were so precious that a single book could buy a castle; it was truly a treasure trove no less than a vault of gold and silver.

Possessing things that everyone coveted entirely for oneself was a deeply joyful and satisfying experience. Although Mikhail didn’t particularly like books, he cherished this library filled with rare volumes. It was one of the few things that fully satisfied his possessiveness. Considering that even the librarian’s presence in the room often grated on his nerves, allowing Chaika to come and go as he pleased was a significant gesture.

In truth, Chaika’s freedom to enter the library didn’t annoy him; rather, it gave him a sense of satisfaction. It was satisfying to have something that belonged to him tucked away in his own space, enjoying himself.

As he pushed the door, the heavy portal opened smoothly and silently. Mikhail walked slowly and quietly, feeling as if he were on a hunt, wondering which corner the small creature was hiding in today. A hunter’s footsteps make no sound, so Chaika likely wouldn’t even notice someone had entered the library.

How long had he been wandering slowly through the forest of bookshelves, tracing the traces of the boy tucked away somewhere? As he passed about half the library, Chaika’s characteristic bittersweet scent floating in the air stimulated his sense of smell. Mikhail curled the corners of his lips into a secret smile and followed the scent. He planned to suddenly snatch the boy to surprise him, and once he regained his composure, take him to the coziest sofa in the library and shower him with kisses.

The scent grew stronger. Though there was no sound or sign of movement, he knew instinctively that the boy was right there. After passing one more bookshelf, he finally saw Chaika sitting curled up in a small ball. He was squatting with his back turned, reading a book. It was the exact same posture as the first time Mikhail had seen him.

It was just as Mikhail took a quiet step toward him. Suddenly, the curled-up body seemed to shrink even further, and Chaika covered his mouth with his arm. Then, he coughed. As Mikhail paused and then took another step, Chaika suddenly broke into a violent fit of coughing.

Cough. Cough. Cough.

As he coughed, Chaika crawled away from the book, as if worried he might spit on it, and covered his mouth with his sleeve while curled up. He coughed violently, his whole body shaking as if he were about to vomit up his internal organs. Cough. Cough. After a series of coughs, he barely managed to draw a breath before coughing again; his body looked as if it might break at any moment.

The coughing, which had been so intense it seemed he might die, suddenly stopped. Chaika removed the sleeve from his mouth and gasped for air. Just as Mikhail, who had been watching the scene, was about to speak and call his name, Chaika suddenly cupped both hands over his mouth and heaved.

Ugh. Ack. Ugh.

Between the violent retching—like a drunkard purging his stomach—rough, panting breaths leaked out. A dark red liquid gradually seeped through the fingers covering his mouth, eventually streaming down the back of his white hand. Even then, Chaika crawled sideways, terrified that the falling blood might touch the book.

Mikhail could neither speak nor act at the sight unfolding before him. The moment he saw the dark red blood pouring from Chaika’s mouth, the blood and muscles in his entire body froze cold. A few seconds, a few dozen seconds, or perhaps a few minutes passed.

Finally, having stopped retching, Chaika let out a long sigh and straightened his curled-up upper body with a lifeless expression. Then, still catching his ragged breath, he began to wipe the blood from the floor with the cloth he used for cleaning. It was a scene that looked far too familiar.

“Chaika.”

Mikhail’s voice calling him was low and calm. Chaika flinched and looked up, freezing instantly.

“…You.”

Mikhail spoke as he took a step closer. He then snatched up Chaika, who was frantically wiping his mouth with his sleeve in a panic, and lifted him high.

“Y-Your Excellency! There’s blood on your clothes!”

Chaika cried out in horror upon seeing his blood transfer to Mikhail’s clothing. Regardless of what the boy said or did, Mikhail walked out of the library. As he headed toward the bedroom, he shouted for a physician to be summoned. A passing servant heard the shout and rushed off immediately.

By the time they reached the bedroom, Chaika had become quiet. When placed on the bed, he curled his body this way and that, struggling to prevent his blood from staining the bedding. Normally, such a sight would have been trivial and cute enough to elicit a chuckle, but not now. Mikhail stood by the bed, silently staring at Chaika while waiting for the physician to arrive.

The physician, well aware of Mikhail’s temperament, arrived in a frantic rush. Guided through the open door, the physician gasped for air, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and barely managed to bow. Without a word, Mikhail pointed with his chin toward Chaika, who was curled up on his bed. The physician approached the bedside with cautious movements.

“Could you… please lie flat?”

The physician requested of Chaika while glancing at Mikhail. Chaika remained in his curled position, gauging Mikhail’s reaction. He felt that if he moved incorrectly, blood would stain the bedding, but if he didn’t follow the physician’s instructions, Mikhail would be angry.

“Do as you’re told quietly.”

When Mikhail spoke softly, Chaika finally moved as carefully as possible and lay flat on the bed.

The physician examined Chaika’s eyes, nose, and the inside of his mouth, and tasted a sample of the coughed-up blood. He also mixed the blood with several powders and liquids from his bag to observe the reaction. He removed the boy’s top to listen to his heartbeat and felt the blood vessels in his neck.

After a lengthy examination, the physician stepped back. Chaika covered himself with the top he had taken off and glanced at Mikhail like a criminal.

“Why is he acting like that?”

When Mikhail, who had stood steadfastly by the bed throughout the long examination, asked, the physician swallowed hard before speaking.

“If I were to list everything, there would be no end to it, but to put it simply, his body is excessively frail.”

It was an excessively simple explanation. As a frown formed between Mikhail’s brows, the physician quickly added more.

“Upon examination, his stomach is weak, and he lacks the ability to digest meat or coarse foods. However, it appears that he has recently consumed a large amount of such foods suddenly, which damaged his stomach and caused bleeding. Furthermore, the bleeding is not limited to the stomach; the lungs are also….”

Having said that much, the physician glanced at Chaika and continued.

“Based on the sounds, there seems to be some disease in the lungs. His breathing is not good, and I suspect that he suffered from pneumonia at some point in the past after several severe colds in childhood that went untreated. Therefore, even a mild cold could trigger pneumonia, and episodes of coughing up blood like this could happen at any time.”

Mikhail, who had been listening in silence, took a deep breath. The physician swallowed again and spoke once more.

“And….”

“And?”

Mikhail’s gaze turned fierce.

“Are you saying there is more?”

“…Yes…. As I mentioned at first, if I were to list everything, there would be no end to it.”

“Tell me the important things first, without leaving anything out.”

“Yeees….”

The physician trailed off as if he were deeply apologetic, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. Then, taking a deep breath, he began to speak.

“Looking into it, he was born with a weak constitution, and his diet seems to have been very… um, poor. It appears that the functions of all his internal organs are significantly diminished. In particular, his heart beats slowly and weakly, and with diseases in his lungs and stomach severe enough to cause hemoptysis, any slight drop in the quality of his diet or exposure to a poor environment will quickly trigger a major illness. From now on, he must recuperate well and live with constant caution to barely….”

“Barely?”

Seeing Mikhail’s expression, the physician awkwardly shifted his words.

“Your Excellency, being an Alpha, may not know, but among humans like us, many children are born incredibly weak from the start. Most die immediately after birth or before the age of five, but occasionally some grow up safely; even then, most spend their lives plagued by minor illnesses and die young.”

“Die young?”

Mikhail’s fierce expression vanished, replaced by a cold, frozen mask.

“What do you mean by ‘die young’? How long are we talking about?”

An ordinary human would have understood the general meaning from the physician’s words alone. But Mikhail was different. He was an Alpha, and a Dominant Alpha at that. He was born with a body stronger and a lifespan longer than a Beta’s, and he had no reason to mingle with Betas. Thus, he had no concept of what age ‘dying young’ meant for humans.

Seeing Mikhail’s frozen face, the physician hesitated. After glancing at Chaika’s pale complexion for a moment, the physician finally spoke cautiously.

“If his body remains in this weak state… assuming he avoids colds, fevers, and various other illnesses, ten years….”

Glancing at Mikhail, the physician quickly corrected himself.

“Perhaps fifteen years… he might live longer.”

“And if you treat him?”

“That is assuming I treat him well this time, and that no such incidents occur afterward, Your Excellency.”

The physician spoke honestly with a grim face. Mikhail’s eyes shifted from the physician to Chaika. Despite the discussion about his own short lifespan, Chaika didn’t look surprised or afraid; he was only gauging Mikhail’s reaction.

“……. Ten years?”

Mikhail murmured while staring at Chaika. Knowing it was a monologue, the physician held his breath in silence.

Ten years. Fifteen years.

Mikhail could feel no difference between ten and fifteen years. Unless they died in conflicts between Alphas during their immature years or on the battlefield, Alphas and Omegas lived for two hundred years. Compared to that, a Beta’s lifespan was seventy or eighty years at most. It was already too short… and ten years? Ten years was merely… a fleeting moment.

“Find a way. Make him live long. As long as possible.”

Mikhail spoke as if whispering to himself.

“I will do my best.”

The physician bowed deeply.

After staring down at Chaika, who had fallen into a deep sleep after taking the medicine provided by the physician, Mikhail left the bedroom. Ten years, fifteen years. The time the physician mentioned was etched into his mind and would not leave.

Upon reaching his destination, Mikhail pushed the door and entered. The room was empty, without its owner. Mikhail sat on the sofa, picked up the liquor bottle from the table, and poured a full glass. As he leaned back deeply with the glass in hand, the strength drained from his body as if it had been waiting for this moment.

He didn’t know how many glasses he emptied. When the bottle on the table ran dry, he called a maid to bring a new one and drank again. However, far from numbing his brain or senses, the alcohol only made them sharper.

“Mikhail?”

After a long while, the owner of the room returned.

“What are you doing here by yourself?”

Ilya asked, handing his top to a maid and sitting across from Mikhail. Mikhail silently handed him an empty glass and poured a generous amount of liquor into it. Sensing Mikhail’s unusual atmosphere, Ilya gestured for the maid to leave. Only after swallowing a sip of liquor did he speak.

“What’s happened?”

“About your child.”

Instead of answering Ilya’s question, Mikhail brought up an abrupt topic.

“My child?”

“Yes. Your child. You said you had a Beta child with a lover.”

“…I did.”

Ilya answered in the past tense.

A moment of silence followed. A complex light flickered in Ilya’s eyes as he emptied his glass, then slowly subsided. Ilya had once had a child with a Beta woman. The child was naturally born a Beta, and while Ilya provided abundant support for the mother and child, he had never once gone to see the child.

“It’s because of that boy, then? That little one who is Nile’s younger brother.”

Mikhail affirmed with his silence.

“Of all things to pick, it had to be a Beta….”

Ilya murmured to himself, sinking deep into the sofa.

“How old is he now? Your child.”

The child he had never once visited since birth. No matter how heartless a father might be, there would be some shred of emotion for his own child. The reason he never looked upon the child’s face was that he did not want to watch the time of his child, which flowed faster than his own, slip away. Therefore, the Beta child was a sliver of pain and loss for Ilya. Yet, Mikhail asked about him as if it were nothing.

Ilya let out a short, heavy sigh and counted on his fingers. After calculating the child’s age for a while, he spoke.

“Thirty-one, no, probably around thirty-two.”

Having counted his child’s age, Ilya wore a fresh expression. It was because the age of the child, whom he had intentionally avoided thinking about, had suddenly become real.

“He’s all grown up.”

“Indeed. All grown up. He might have already had children of his own. And he’ll be starting to age soon.”

Ilya’s face was calm as he spoke of the time when his child would begin to age before him.

“Still, he’ll probably live several more decades.”

Ilya added that with an ambiguous smile.

“Ten years. At most fifteen, they say.”

Mikhail said. Ilya raised an eyebrow with a puzzled expression.

“That boy. They said his body is so weak that even with good care, he’ll live ten or fifteen years and then die.”

Ilya frowned, momentarily unable to find words. Ten years, fifteen years. Ilya, too, found no great difference between ten and fifteen years.

“…Ten years, you say….”

After a long while, Ilya murmured with a faint sigh.

The two emptied their glasses in silence for a moment. A heavy silence lingered in the room. Perhaps because thoughts of the Beta child he had deliberately pushed aside had resurfaced, Ilya’s expression grew heavy.

“I’d rather just send him far away. To a warm, affluent place where he can be meticulously cared for until the end of his life. Arrange it so he’s sent far away. That way, you won’t have to watch him die.”

“Ten years is already short, and you’re telling me to throw away even those ten years?”

“Because it’s too short.”

Having spoken curtly, Ilya rested one arm on the back of the sofa and shifted his gaze toward the desk in the corner of the room. Several unopened letters were scattered across the desk. They were letters that arrived once or twice a month, sent from the Basari estate through the hands of the estate manager.

“That brat. Even though I’ve never replied once, he makes sure to send a letter every single month. I don’t know if his mother ordered him to do so, if he’s worried his support will be cut off, or if he’s just sending them for the sake of it.”

Having said that much, Ilya turned his gaze toward Mikhail.

“I’ve never opened a single letter, nor have I read them. It would be a lie to say I’m not curious. But you see, once I start looking at those letters, I’ll keep looking at them… and in about ten years, I’ll find traces of a child who has become a middle-aged man in the letters that arrive. And in twenty or thirty years, I’ll hear news that he is sick or dying. Even then, I will be exactly as I am now.”

Pausing for a moment, Ilya let out a smirk.

“I was young and immature back then. To have a child with a Beta…. I will never have children again unless it is with an Omega. Mikhail. It is an Omega we should be paired with. Not a Beta.”

“It has to be him. He is mine.”

Mikhail remained completely unshaken by Ilya’s words. Ilya’s eyebrows twitched slightly at the phrase ‘mine’ coming from Mikhail’s mouth. If he had fallen for that little thing to the point of calling him ‘mine,’ persuasion was meaningless.

“Everything would be perfect if only he were an Omega,” Ilya said with a heavy sigh. Mikhail’s face immediately crumpled.

“Don’t associate that disgusting thing with him. Just hearing it makes me feel filthy.”

Mikhail spoke as if the mere thought of it repulsed him. It seemed his Omega phobia, which he thought had faded slightly after meeting Nile quite often, had not improved at all.

“But think about it, Mikhail. If he were an Omega, he wouldn’t live for ten or fifteen years, but for over a hundred. Don’t you want that?”

Mikhail fell silent. A Beta who could only live ten more years, and an Omega—a being whose very existence was loathsome and horrific. If he were an Omega…. If they could be together not for ten or fifteen years, but for over a hundred….

“I want it,” Ilya said casually. He turned his head to glance at the letters on the desk and spoke again.

“I want it. I wish the woman who bore my child had been an Omega, not a Beta. Then I wouldn’t have had to watch her grow old or send her far away, nor would I have to imagine my child growing old and dying.”

“…….”

Mikhail’s lips parted slightly as if to say something. However, he soon swallowed the words along with his drink. Ilya wasn’t particularly curious about what Mikhail wanted to say. It was foolish to cling to things that could not be changed.