* * *
“Can you feel Sir Whisen’s pheromones?”
“No, not at all.”
The faint scents he used to catch after coming to the Duke’s residence had completely vanished.
He couldn’t distinguish pheromones at all anymore.
It felt strange—as if he’d become a plain Beta.
“That’s fascinating. Paul said you imprinted, right?”
“Yes. There are more benefits than drawbacks. I’ll organize the things to be careful about after imprinting and bring them next time.”
Paul had congratulated them several times, saying Sylvian’s body would recover much faster now.
Receiving all of an Alpha’s dominant pheromones would stabilize Sylvian’s pheromone glands quickly, apparently.
“So… that must’ve been the imprinting.”
Sylvian recalled the moment he had felt utterly connected to Zeroth.
As Paul had burst out of the room, yelling, “The Duke and Duchess have imprinted!” the servants outside erupted in cheers.
Sylvian smiled faintly at the commotion.
“Is it really okay for you to imprint with me? I’m so weak…”
“My dear, undoing an imprint isn’t easy. Besides, Paul said you’ll get healthier. Maybe you’ll become as sturdy as Yuli.”
Sylvian wasn’t aiming to become that healthy, but Zeroth’s words made him feel good anyway.
And after imprinting, he could sense Zeroth’s emotions and pheromones even more clearly.
“It’s really fascinating… this is my first time experiencing anything like this. Hehe.”
“It’s my first time too, so it feels just as strange.”
Zeroth, sensing the warmth rippling through Sylvian’s heart, pressed a kiss to the corner of his eye.
Joy and affection overflowed between them.
“They say the longer we stay together, the better it is. So, I’ll be by your side until you recover.”
“What about your work?”
Surely a Duke couldn’t just laze around for several days.
Sylvian tilted his head skeptically, but Zeroth caught his face and kissed him lightly.
“Haa…”
“I already arranged for someone to take over.”
His expression was full of playful mischief.
“How long can we stay together?”
“Even after Karl and Charlian’s wedding, I can rest for at least another month.”
Sylvian’s eyes widened.
In all the chaos, he had completely forgotten about Karl’s wedding.
He could’ve sworn it wasn’t supposed to happen for several more months—how did it sneak up so fast?
“They say Lady Charlian couldn’t wait, so they pushed the ceremony forward.”
“She must really like Karl.”
That was intense love.
When desire to torment your partner and love intertwined—Karl was probably suffering to the point of wishing he were dead.
The one who always wanted to escape had been leashed again.
Whether Karl surrendered or spent his life resisting… Zeroth couldn’t care less.
“It’s not ‘she.’ It’s ‘he.’ And they were engaged since before they were born.”
“……Huh?”
Sylvian froze at Zeroth’s correction.
He, not she?
“But Charlian is a Lady… right?”
“Charlian Nefer, the heir to the Nefer Marquisate.”
“…….”
Sylvian’s jaw dropped at the shocking revelation.
Zeroth seized the opportunity to steal another kiss from his parted lips.
“Hh… mm…”
The teasing tongue swept across the roof of his mouth, making Sylvian instinctively press his thighs together.
They said an imprint heightened your sensitivity, but just one kiss had him burning up like this.
“D-Doesn’t anyone else know he’s male?”
“A few people do. His Majesty, the Marquis and Marchioness Nefer, their household staff, some of the family, me, and Karl…”
Altogether, maybe just over ten people knew.
Sylvian was left speechless.
“B-But he has breasts!”
“That part, I’m not entirely sure. Probably a magical artifact.”
“He’s skinnier than me… so slim, and down below? You can’t exactly hide that, can you? Even with tight clothes…”
“I’m sure they’ve invested incredible effort.”
That’s why only you know, Zeroth said softly, giving Sylvian’s nose a playful nip.
“Hey, move over.”
Martius nudged Yuri with his foot as he sat down beside him.
“There’s plenty of space, what’s the problem?”
Yuri wasn’t wrong.
The 2nd Knight Order’s break room had tons of seating.
Martius had claimed the coziest sofa, so Yuri sitting beside him didn’t actually make it crowded.
“How’s Sylvian?”
“He’s fine. Apparently, he and the Duke imprinted.”
After running off the moment his brother woke up, Martius had overheard the servants excitedly gossiping near his room, proudly announcing the Duke and Duchess had imprinted.
Even as he spoke, Martius glanced warily at Yuri.
“Yeah? That’s great. I should send them a congratulatory gift.”
“You… you’re not bothered?”
Martius kicked at Yuri in irritation, but Yuri grabbed his ankle and tugged him toward his lap, making Martius collapse backward.
“Ahh!”
“Oops, didn’t realize that was wood.”
Martius’s head smacked against the wooden armrest of the sofa.
Yuri grinned mischievously, tracing his thumb along Martius’s slender ankle.
Thud!
“Ow!”
“You bastard! Let go!”
“Why are you so violent?”
As the two scuffled on the sofa, nearby knights groaned and stood up.
“I get that you’re young and full of energy, but shut up already. We’re dead tired.”
Morning drills had just ended, and most knights were slumped over their chairs.
“If you’ve got that much energy, take it upstairs.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Shut it! You go instead!”
Martius kicked at Yuri again, but Yuri just laughed and dragged Martius up to the dorms.
“They’re the loudest, aren’t they?”
“Go flirt somewhere else.”
The knights muttered as they watched the two disappear upstairs.
“Think the Holt Count’s family will approve?”
“Yuli’s the youngest, and Martius is a viscount’s son—it’s not a bad match.”
“Still, he’s a waste for a viscount’s family.”
The knights had gossiped plenty, seeing the two colts stuck together like glue throughout training.
“The Duke told us to shut up about it, so watch your mouths.”
“Aye, sir!”
Some of them wanted to keep chatting, but following the seniors’ advice to “stay quiet if you want to live long,” they shut their mouths.
“I’m going to shower first.”
“Let’s shower together.”
Martius, grabbing a towel and heading to the bathroom, shot a sharp glare at Yuri, who casually followed behind.
“Don’t you dare spout nonsense to my brother.”
“What? Do you still think I have feelings for Lord Sylvian?”
Yuri flashed a carefree smile, and Martius scowled.
Why do I even care about that?
A deep sigh escaped him.
“I can honestly congratulate the two of you on your bond.”
“Yeah, great for you.”
Suppressing his discomfort, Martius slipped into the bathroom.
“Don’t come in.”
“Come on, don’t be so stingy, after all we’re—ugh!”
Yuri, who tried to follow him in, took a solid punch to the stomach.
He clung to the bathroom door, groaning in pain for a good while before the ache subsided.
“So cold-hearted.”
Knowing Martius would genuinely get mad if he went in, Yuri plopped himself down comfortably on the sofa in the room.
His amber eyes never left the bathroom where Martius disappeared.
‘A bond…’
Would it work with him?
There’s no rule saying an Omega can’t initiate the bond, right?
Since Lord Sylvian’s his brother, I’d need his permission first…
Yuri’s face slowly lit up with mischief.
“I’d better dress up properly for the wedding.”
He hadn’t cared about the Marquis’s wedding, but hearing that Martius was invited changed everything.
Maybe I’ll cozy up to Lord Sylvian, rile up our dear Martius a little.
A sly grin spread across his face.
“Go to your room.”
“Lucky me, the aide switched my room starting today.”
“…The subordinates are supposed to have separate rooms.”
“I’m not an official subordinate. You know I got in thanks to the Duke’s connections. So they pulled some strings.”
Fresh out of the shower, Martius glared at Yuri still lingering in the room.
His recently showered skin was flushed red, and his fair complexion practically glowed, just like Sylvian’s.
Droplets from his damp hair soaked through the thin fabric of his clothes, leaving marks that exposed his skin underneath.
‘Is… is he trying to seduce me?’
Seeing Martius’s skin faintly visible beneath his clothes, Yuri gulped.
Noticing Yuri’s weird expression, Martius’s gaze drifted downward.
“You! Get out, now!”
“I told you, we’re sharing this room starting today!”
Martius threw a towel at Yuri’s lower half and swung a fist.
The two wrestled and bickered until another knight came pounding on the door, yelling at them to quiet down.
* * *
