6 – Cypress Mosaic

After ​putting ​on ​everything ​except his jacket, ​Lorenz ​was ​fastening ​his ​wristwatch when he suddenly ​frowned, ​covering the right ​side of his ​face ​with ​a ​large ​hand. ​It was due ​to ​an ​excruciating migraine, as ​if a needle were ​stabbing into ​his temple.

A ​hypersensitive sense ​of smell ​and ​severe ​headaches. These were ​the most ​prominent symptoms of the ​illness he suffered from.

With ​long, agitated strides, he ​headed toward ​the ​bedroom connected to the dressing room.

Lorenz ​pulled a small device ​from ​a ​drawer ​in ​the bedside table. ​Smaller than ​his ​pinky finger and ​shaped ​like a smooth bullet, it ​was a ​portable ​scanner used to ​measure ​the ​Pheromone ​Response ​Level (PRL)1). ​To ​Lorenz, it ​felt like a part of his own ​body that he ​had to carry ​at all times.

His movements ​were practiced ​as he held ​the ​powered-on scanner against ​the area behind ​his ear ​where ​his body ​temperature ​was high.

Immediately, ​a ​value appeared ​along ​with ​a slight vibration.

PRL ​50 ​⎯ No ​wonder ​he ​didn’t ​feel well. While not yet at a critical level, it was outside the normal range.

He immediately searched the cabinet for medicine. He realized he didn’t have much of his prescribed suppressant left. It meant the time to visit the hospital again was approaching.

At that thought, his brow furrowed more irritably.

It was a disease that couldn’t be cured anyway. What was the point of diligently recording values and symptoms or meeting with a doctor periodically?

Yet, no matter how much he complained, there was nothing he stolen contentcould do. [visit our site]The suppressants available on [stolen content]the market without a prescription no longer had any effect on him.

Just as he was closing the cabinet door, there was a knock.

It was the housekeeper, Margaret.

“Master Lorenz, you are ready already.”

Lorenz Lockhart took a bottle of water from the small refrigerator and asked quickly in a stiff tone.

“Margaret, is the person in charge of my laundry an Omega?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“There’s a smell. An unbearably foul smell.”

Sensing his foul mood, Margaret went to the dressing room and picked up a shirt discarded in the laundry basket. She was also an Alpha, but she could detect no pheromones, nor could she smell anything particular.

By the time she returned to the bedroom, Lorenz was just swallowing a pill with water.

“Are you referring to the shirt?”

Lorenz nodded without answering.

“If you could tell me specifically what it smells like, I will pass the message along.”

“Are you saying you can’t smell anything at all?”

His voice sharpened instantly, as if he couldn’t believe her.

“If I had to find something, it is only a very faint scent of steam that can occur during ironing.”

“Whether it’s steam or whatever, I can’t stand it. The person managing my laundry, the person managing my room… if there is an Omega among them, change the staff.”

“Master Lorenz.”

Margaret’s blue-grey eyes gazed at Lorenz with a firm light.

As a child, he had been a boy who fulfilled whatever duties were given to him, but he would occasionally feign illness to avoid piano lessons. And every time, she never indulged his whims. Her gaze now was not much different from how it had been back then.

“Alphas, Omegas, and Betas all work at this estate. Everyone is doing their best to ensure you can live comfortably. Of course, all Alpha and Omega employees take suppressants in accordance with government health regulations. Furthermore, you know well that general scents, not pheromones, cannot trigger your symptoms. That is impossible.”

Impossible…

Theoretically, Lorenz understood that. But in practice, it wasn’t the case.

“When the response level rises, my sense of smell itself becomes hypersensitive. Even if it’s not pheromones, I can’t stand any artificial smells.”

Hearing the pain in Lorenz’s voice, visit our siteMargaret stolen contentchanged her approach, this visit our sitetime coaxing him more gently.

“You’ve had a lot on your mind lately. You’ve likely become temporarily sensitive because you’re not in peak condition.”

She looked at the water remaining after he took his medicine and added,

“Is the level high?”

“It’s 50.”

“The headache must be severe as well.”

“It feels like someone is driving a stake into my head. It’s driving me crazy.”

Lorenz turned away, pressing his temples. As he moved toward the dressing room, he asked,

“How is Lucas?”

“There are no particular changes.”

“He still refuses to leave his room.”

“Yes.”

“Still not speaking?”

“…Yes.”

After their father, Damon Lockhart, passed away, young Lucas had shut himself in his room.

He had been a quiet and obedient child, albeit somewhat introverted, but whenever they tried to get him to come out of his room, he would scream and recoil in horror as if he had seen a ghost. Because of that, he had been having all his meals in his room.

For some reason, the child had also stopped speaking.

Lorenz had been told that the child’s silence began shortly before their father passed away.

Since the child wouldn’t say a word, there was no way to even find out what the cause was.

“I wonder if forcing him to attend the funeral was too much.”

Margaret’s voice was worried as she followed Lorenz. However, Lorenz stated firmly,

“Even so, I couldn’t let him miss his father’s funeral.”

“Well… that is true.”

Forced to agree, Margaret looked at Lorenz’s back as he put on his jacket. Then, she spoke cautiously, adding a hopeful nuance.

“There is also some good news.”

“Good news?”

His voice was bitter and laced with a sneer, as if such a thing were impossible.

Having put on his jacket, Lorenz fastened the buttons and looked at Margaret with a face devoid of expectation.

“I received a call from Dr. Morgan at the Child Counseling Center.”

Only then did Lorenz show interest, and Margaret continued.

“She says she has a counselor she can recommend.”

“They’re probably someone with insufficient experience.”

“That is because we decided to lower our standards. However, if it is someone Dr. Morgan recommended, I believe they can be trusted.”

After the funeral, Lorenz Lockhart decided to hire a professional for Lucas’s problems.

Although they were brothers by law, Lucas was a child Damon Lockhart had adopted about two years ago. There was a large age gap between him and Lorenz, and they had never even experienced living in the same house together. Their relationship was limited to seeing each other at family events and exchanging formal greetings. In other words, there was almost no emotional bond between Lorenz and Lucas. Therefore, the idea of solving the child’s problems himself was unthinkable.

The only person in the house the child relied on deeply was almost exclusively Margaret. Just as Lorenz had as a child. However, as the housekeeper of the estate, she bore many responsibilities. She couldn’t spend all her time clinging to the child.

Lorenz wanted someone who could move into the estate to observe and support Lucas’s overall daily life. He didn’t stolen contentthink the situation would improve with unauthorized copyjust one or two hours of counseling once or twice a week.

However, most counselors were already running their own centers or were affiliated with centers, managing multiple children. It was impossible for them to move in and provide exclusive care for a single child. Because of this, Lorenz and Margaret decided to lower the requirements.

“Would you like to meet them?”

“I think Margaret will have to meet them on my behalf.”

“You’re not going to interview them yourself?”

“Your eye for people is more accurate than mine. If Margaret judges them to be acceptable, I can trust that.”

“Or, shall we conduct the interview after you return from your business trip?”

“That would only delay things further. There’s no benefit to that.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Lorenz turned his gaze toward the window, which was half-covered by curtains. Despite the generous size of the window thanks to the high ceilings, the bright sunlight overflowing in the streets could not reach deep into Lorenz’s room.

Margaret answered quietly behind his back.

“I understand. I will meet them first and then report back to you.”

“Thank you, Margaret.”

1. Pheromone Response Level (PRL): Indicates the degree of reaction to another’s pheromones. Normal range is between 20 and 40. The higher the number, the more dangerous it becomes.