* * *
“Sure, why not, Lillian. I didn’t have anything planned for today anyway.”
Well, aside from mountains of homework and needing to visit Leo and Harca… but just for today, maybe it’d be fine.
And turning down every invitation got tiring too.
“R-Really?”
Lillian’s eyes lit up again, but behind her, Hilde’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, as if he didn’t approve.
“Young Master, would you like to come with us too?”
I said this to Hilde, wondering if maybe he felt left out.
Apparently not—because his expression soured even more, though he still replied,
“…If you insist.”
Why did he look like he was going to refuse, only to say yes?
“Then, um… can I come too?”
That was Lewis, the sub-male lead, asking shyly with flushed cheeks.
I didn’t mind… but apparently, the others did.
The moment he spoke, Lillian’s expression shifted dramatically.
She turned, spotted him, and immediately burst into muffled laughter as if she’d just witnessed something ridiculous.
“Ah… seriously? But with that fragile body of yours, wouldn’t it be a little hard to go outside?”
“Pfft.”
Hilde, who had been quietly reading, couldn’t help but laugh at her remark.
There were three reasons why Lewis got treated like this.
First—his family background.
The Asta Duchy controlled the empire’s south and west, the Marquis Saint was no less influential, and the Descartes County boasted immense wealth.
Compared to them, the Patrick County—Lewis’s family—was… a bit underwhelming.
And second—his lack of strength.
Swordsmanship and magic—everyone had some exceptional talent in at least one of them, but Lewis was simply powerless.
And lastly, his personality.
In this cold aristocratic society, where those of different rank were openly treated differently, acting overly friendly with the Crown Prince without reading the room was downright foolish.
Because of that, Lewis was already seen as unpleasant by the other noble children, subtly ignored and looked down upon.
Lewis seemed to see himself as some tragic protagonist, shuddering in humiliation.
He shot Anakin a glare as if to kill him before storming out of the training room.
In a society this ruthless, unless you excelled in something, you were bound to be disregarded.
If Anakin had any obvious flaws, he would have been treated even worse than Lewis.
In other words, even the ones who seemed to be on your side now could turn their backs at any moment.
After Lewis left, Lillian hummed a tune as if nothing had happened, already pondering which dress to wear.
Hilde didn’t seem to care much about his departure either.
This faint sense of wrongness—Anakin alone could feel it.
“I—I should get going too.”
Sten, the son of Viscount Vilton, glanced at the others before quietly slipping away.
The marquis’ child, who had been curled up in the corner without making a sound, didn’t so much as stir.
If you wanted to survive long here, you had to be quick on the uptake and never show your weaknesses.
Anakin couldn’t help feeling sorry for Lewis—looked down on, ridiculed, and even ignored by the one he loved.
If it were up to him, he would’ve tried to pair the Crown Prince and Lewis together, but the Crown Prince was already engaged, making that pairing practically impossible.
As for Anakin’s own relationship with the Crown Prince, the only thing that could be called “special” was that time he held hands and used his lap as a pillow.
Still, who knew what kind of requests might come later?
Did he even have the right to refuse the Crown Prince?
No matter how he thought about it, the only possible outcome of a refusal he could imagine was being kidnapped and locked away where no one could find him.
…That couldn’t be allowed to happen.
The Anakin from the original story had been a delicate, lovely doll through and through, but now that he had possessed this body, he could change the entire game.
At best, the Crown Prince’s feelings for him right now were mild interest.
Too much dislike was bad, but so was too much affection.
How was he supposed to balance this?
“Leo. Sorry, but I don’t think I can hang out with you today.”
“…”
“Don’t make that face. It’s not because I dislike you.”
“I know. It’s because of those guys you take that class with, right?”
Leo’s expression immediately crumpled, as if he already knew everything, before he lazily traced the rim of his empty teacup with a finger, trying to cool his annoyance.
The attendant at his side looked on nervously, but Leo’s focus was only on Anakin.
“Shall I pour you more?”
Clicking his tongue, Leo set down the cup.
The attendant, waiting for the cue, quickly poured the tea.
“Are those guys more important than me?”
Anakin looked him straight in the eye and chuckled as if it were nothing.
“Haha! Leo, don’t tell me you’re seriously keeping score like a kid?”
When Anakin laughed out loud, Leo’s expression soured even further.
Seeing that, Anakin spoke in a gentle, coaxing voice.
“We’re friends. Of course, you’re my first friend.”
“…”
“You don’t believe me?”
Anakin’s small face took on a look of injustice.
His red lips jutted out in a sulky pout, and Leo stared at them before speaking.
“Of course I don’t believe it. How can I, just from that?”
“I feel most at ease when I’m with you. You’re a little rough, but kind… I wouldn’t say you have a good temper, but in a strange way, you’re considerate…”
“…Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
It sounded more like an insult.
As Leo’s face twisted again, Anakin stretched lazily and smiled like a child.
“Come on, cut me some slack. I hang out with you all the time anyway.”
“…”
Anakin’s bright smile left Leo silent. Eventually, he gave in.
“Fine. Just for today…”
“I knew it. You’re sweet, Leo.”
Call someone “sweet” often enough, and even the bad ones start acting sweet.
That’s the power of words.
Then, Leo suddenly froze.
He fell silent, as if confronted with something serious, and after a long pause, spoke again.
“Have you been getting along with Kamil lately?”
“Why?”
“You smell like him. If it’s this strong…”
Leo leaned closer to Anakin’s shoulder.
Then he breathed in near his neck, and Anakin froze like a statue.
“How close were you to him?”
What kind of thirteen-year-old had a sense of smell this sharp?
He hadn’t even manifested as an Alpha yet.
And the look in Leo’s eyes… it burned with a possessiveness so thick it seemed ready to burst into flames.
“Tell me. What did you do with him?”
“Leo? What’s wrong with you—”
Leo shoved Anakin down.
In an instant, his body tipped backward, and Anakin braced for the pain—but instead, Leo’s hand supported his back and neck, lowering him onto the soft sofa without injury.
“What did you do for his scent to stick to you this much?”
Leo was acting like a jealous husband suspecting his unfaithful wife.
Anakin blinked a few times before answering.
“Why are you mad? I didn’t do anything.”
“Then why does his scent cling to you?”
“All I did was give him a lap pillow for a bit.”
The casual way Anakin said it made Leo’s face contort.
“What?”
Worked up like this, Leo was exactly as the original had described him—no, even more vivid and feral.
He was like a wild beast, unpredictable and dangerous.
“Why the hell would you give him a lap pillow?”
It was a side of Leo Anakin had never seen before, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.
What should he do?
If he were really a child, wouldn’t he start crying from fear in a moment like this?
It was that scary.
In fact, maybe he was a little startled, because tears started rolling down his cheeks.
Whether it was the child’s body being prone to tears or just the shock of being cornered, the result was the same.
When Leo saw the clear tears falling from Anakin’s wide red eyes, he looked genuinely flustered.
Apparently, he hadn’t meant to make him cry, because he quickly scooped Anakin into his arms.
“Anakin.”
His voice, now anxious, called his name—so different from the fierce tone just moments ago—that Anakin lifted his head.
“Don’t cry.”
“Why are you mad at me?”
He wasn’t actually crying from sadness.
His body had just reacted with tears from the surprise.
He didn’t feel particularly wronged or hurt.
Still, Leo probably thought he was crying because he felt upset at being questioned so harshly.
That worked in Anakin’s favor.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry. Sorry.”
Pressed against Leo’s firm chest, Anakin caught the sweet, refreshing scent that clung to him.
“It’s just… imagining you with that guy made me so mad that I lost it…”
The way Leo rambled on, trying to justify emotions he couldn’t control—it didn’t seem like him at all.
“…Sorry.”
As Anakin leaned limply against his chest, Leo pulled him back to look at him with a tense expression.
“I was scared.”
“…”
“Leo. Don’t get mad at me.”
They were words spoken with genuine feeling.
Leo’s fierce, predatory eyes were terrifying enough to make one’s knees go weak.
And already, there was a hint of obsession in them.
“……”
The slender body trembled.
The beautiful red eyes, wide with fear, avoided Leo’s gaze.
Leo cursed himself for bringing things to this point.
He reached out and gently brushed Anakin’s disheveled hair back behind his ear — the first time in his life he’d ever done such a thing.
“…I’m sorry.”
* * *
