* * *
When someone with malicious intent is nearby, trouble is highly likely to follow.
And today, oddly enough, Anakin’s body was unusually sensitive.
Ever since he drank the beverage Lewis gave him, his body had been heating up uncontrollably.
What the hell? Lewis drank it too…
“Ha… ngh—!”
Unable to stay on his feet, Anakin left the terrace and headed for the exit.
Glancing around, he spotted Lewis casually chatting with other nobles, looking completely fine.
Unlike himself.
Seeing Lewis looking so normal made Anakin want to grab him by the collar, but he had to restrain himself.
He turned away again, this time looking toward Leo, who was speaking with Count Martican.
Leo looked busy, like he was handling something important. ‘I’ll just send a servant to him later.’
Right now, the priority was getting out of the banquet hall.
Dragging his increasingly heavy body, Anakin walked down the corridor connected to the hall.
On the way, he snatched a glass of ice water from a passing servant and took a sip.
But when that wasn’t enough, he dumped the entire glass over his head.
“Kyaaa! M-My lord!”
The maid, whose glass had been taken, screamed in surprise.
That impulsive act alone made it clear—he wasn’t in his right mind.
Shaking the dripping water from his hair in frustration, Anakin instinctively looked for a place with no people.
Was this heat just in his head?
No.
The fever was real, and it was rising fast.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
A soft yet mocking female voice called out from behind.
When Anakin turned around, still soaking wet, the woman was standing there with her arms crossed, frowning.
An obvious, blatant hostility.
“You’re so annoying.”
“…Lady Schneider?”
A beautiful face and ice-cold blue eyes.
Eyes so frigid, they hardly looked human.
Her name: Evelyn Schneider
.
The noble fiancée of the Crown Prince.
“Looks like you’re going into heat. And you’re only thirteen, right…?”
“What… are you saying?”
Barely holding onto consciousness, Anakin glared at her.
Heat?
But that only happens when an Omega first presents, right?
According to the original story, Anakin was supposed to have his first heat as an Omega at age 14.
A whole year left… And yet?
“Unfortunate that your presentation came early. But maybe this is a warning—telling you to stay out of the Imperial Palace before something worse happens.”
His emotions surged, breathing quickened.
Everything around him felt too vivid, too stimulating—he couldn’t accept this state.
Listening to Evelyn made it sound like she orchestrated everything.
If she manipulated Lewis into doing this to him… then his sudden apology earlier would make perfect sense.
“This was your doing.”
Staring straight into her icy blue eyes, Anakin accused her.
Evelyn, with her glossy navy-blue hair, simply covered her mouth with a fan and smiled—a captivating yet mocking smile.
‘So this is what a real villainess looks like…’
A mask of nobility hiding a grotesque face underneath.
“Did you really think I’d just sit by and watch you seduce my fiancé? That naive little thought is exactly what led to this.”
Revealing her true nature bit by bit, she stared down at Anakin as if savoring his misery.
“His Highness is just a friend.”
Hearing Anakin’s strained voice, Evelyn’s expression hardened once more.
The sharp click of her heels echoed as she stepped closer to him.
Then, with an elegant hand—one that looked like it had never known injury—she gripped Anakin’s face.
Coldly. Cruelly.
“I’m going to be Empress. You? You’ve got nothing but that pretty face.”
“…”
Her grip on his face tightened with every word, as if to make her warning very clear.
“Do you even know what I had to do to become the Crown Prince’s fiancée? All the effort I put in? And you, who’s never done anything—you dare aim for that seat?”
Her face twisted with madness.
Anakin barely managed to push her hand away.
Evelyn stepped back with forced calm, trying to collect herself.
“I’ve sent away all the nearby servants. But there are plenty of drunk noblemen around. Why don’t you go ask them for help?”
Anakin could barely see her now—his vision blurry, breath ragged, body burning up so badly he could hardly stand.
“With that pretty face of yours, someone’s bound to stop. And with that filthy body, I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to cool you down.”
“Haa… ngh—”
“Well then, I hope you have a lovely night.”
“Couldn’t you at least leave the antidote behind?”
Anakin asked, panting.
Evelyn turned slightly, frowning in disgust.
“Do I look insane to you?”
‘Of course not. Worth a shot though, damn it…’
“Sed, do you smell that? Smells like an Omega somewhere…”
Right after Evelyn left, Anakin heard voices—adult noblemen, likely Alphas.
“Sniff… Yep, no doubt about it. This is a heat-struck Omega. And what a scent…”
Even as his head burned like fire, some primal instinct screamed: ‘Do not let them see you like this.’
Even without a heat, Omegas were harassed constantly.
But in heat?
There wasn’t a single man who wouldn’t be tempted.
Anakin quickly ducked into the nearest room to hide.
“Definitely a young Omega. I’d know that scent anywhere…”
The ominous voice echoed from outside.
His lower stomach churned, nausea rising in his throat.
With no experience of this sort, Anakin crouched, covering his mouth, holding his breath until the men passed by.
In the original story, Anakin’s pheromone scent was so unique that nearly all Alphas went wild for it…
This was a full-blown “cornered rat” situation.
Once an Omega enters heat, magic becomes impossible without a clear mind.
He couldn’t even stand up properly—how could he calculate spell formulas?
If he had physical strength, he might’ve subdued someone and escaped.
But with his current body?
If caught, he’d be powerless.
He cursed the heavens for blocking even the slimmest path to escape.
The transformation of his body into an Omega was terrifying.
It was painful. It was unbearable.
Familiar pain was tolerable—but this?
These foreign sensations were not.
His lower belly writhed like it was melting, and sharp, needle-like jolts of pain shot through his most sensitive parts.
The water he’d poured over himself earlier had soaked through his clothes, and now clung to his overheated body like syrup.
“I might actually die in here…”
He couldn’t even cry out—just curled up, groaning.
Somehow, he made it to the bathroom attached to the bedroom and urgently turned on the cold water.
The icy stream crashed down on him, and although it helped dull the heat, it couldn’t stop his temperature from spiking.
When will it be safe to go out?
‘Are those Alphas still lurking outside?’
He thought about removing his soaked clothes, but that would only release more pheromones. Better not.
The thought that Evelyn intended to ruin him socially with this scandal made him sick, but now wasn’t the time to indulge in rage.
He had to stay calm.
Wrapping himself in someone else’s blanket from the bed, Anakin curled his small body up tightly.
Truthfully, he was at his mental limit.
He kept nodding off, struggling to keep himself awake.
He couldn’t sleep.
Not until he was somewhere safe…
Just then, when he was about to lose consciousness, hurried footsteps echoed from outside.
“…Kin.”
The door burst open.
A grown man’s figure ran in, calling his name.
“Of all people, why did it have to be an Alpha approaching me?”
A dense, unmistakable scent of Alpha quietly wafted from him.
Though Anakin hadn’t gotten a clear look at his face, he instinctively knew—the man was a dominant Alpha.
Anakin, overwhelmed, ignored the man shaking his shoulder and mumbled something before his consciousness slipped away.
“I want to go home…”
His stomach churned with nausea.
There was a faint ache in his lower abdomen, but his body felt more at ease than before.
The intense burning sensation that had consumed him was now strangely subdued.
“Anakin…”
Somewhere in his blurred consciousness, he felt as if someone were calling his name.
And as the sensations around him grew sharper—more real—Anakin’s eyes snapped open.
“Oh my! Anakin’s awake!”
The ceiling and walls were ones he knew well.
He was back in his bedroom at the Count de Descartes estate.
How long had it been?
“Anakin, can you see me?”
“…Mother?”
With tears welling in her eyes, the Countess threw her arms around him, gently stroking his head again and again.
Now that he looked properly, it wasn’t just his mother—his attendant, Chel, was there too.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you go to the Imperial Palace alone.”
Anakin remembered manifesting and collapsing that day.
He vaguely recalled an Alpha finding him—but everything after that was a blur.
“Who brought me back here?”
“Roman… He carried you all the way…”
Roman?
Roman—that was Anakin’s older brother.
One of the most powerful dominant Alphas in the Empire.
So the one who found him that day was Roman Descartes?
Then again, for Anakin to sense an Alpha’s presence so clearly even while half-conscious, it would have to be someone overwhelmingly strong.
Still, it was hard to believe Roman had actually rescued him.
He had never seen him in person before, and in the original story, Roman had always been a cold, indifferent brother.
Even when his own sibling was kidnapped and presumed dead, he negotiated with nobles for political gain rather than seek justice.
Why would that kind of brother save Anakin?
Despite the questions flooding his mind, Anakin felt relieved—he was home.
“You don’t have to return to the Imperial Palace anymore.
The early manifestation has taken a heavy toll on your body.”
* * *
