“Omega… property rights…?”
Chaika murmured at last, after a long pause. Mihail smiled and nodded. Then he placed his hand over Chaika’s lower abdomen and continued speaking.
“You’ve been looking like the world’s ending every day because you’re afraid this little one might be born an omega. So I’m saying I’ll make it so you don’t have to worry. Whether the child is an omega or an alpha, they’ll inherit equal rights—inheritance and property alike. They won’t be sold against their will. They’ll be able to live however they choose.”
Chaika’s eyes widened further. His lips parted slightly. The violet eyes staring up at Mihail trembled faintly.
“…But… something like that—there’s no way it’s possible.”
“Yeah. It won’t be easy. But I’m going to do it. There’s never been a single thing I set out to do that I failed to accomplish. So just trust me.”
Trust didn’t come easily to Chaika’s face. Instead, it was filled with confusion. Narrowing his gray eyes, Mihail lightly tapped Chaika’s nose with a finger and asked,
“Who am I?”
“…….”
“Hm? Answer me. Who am I?”
“…Duke Mihail Castiya.”
“And?”
“…A Dominant Alpha.”
“That’s right. And I’m also third in line to the throne.”
“…….”
Chaika blinked, his expression clearly asking what Mihail was getting at. Mihail bared one side of his teeth in a wicked grin and leaned in to whisper by Chaika’s ear.
“If it really comes down to it and nothing else works, I’ll just kill the emperor and the crown prince and become emperor myself to make it happen. So you don’t need to worry about anything—just focus on giving birth to the child.”
Mihail whispered it like a joke, but it didn’t sound like a joke at all.
Chaika lowered his head, breathing unevenly on his own. Then he muttered,
“There’s no way… There’s no way that’s possible… The other alphas would never allow something like that….”
“That’s something we’ll see about in time.”
Mihail said with a smile in his voice as he pulled Chaika into his arms. Lifting the hand with the ring, he pressed a kiss to Chaika’s cheek.
“Once the child is born, let’s have a proper marriage—whether the child is an alpha or an omega. You’ll have given birth to my heir, so no one will dare say a word about your background.”
“…Wait. Is this a proposal?”
“Is it?”
“What kind of proposal is done like this?”
Chaika said with a faint laugh.
“I’m saying I’ll overturn the laws of the entire country just to marry you—what kind of proposal could be bigger than that? Don’t you think?”
Mihail shot back loudly. Chaika laughed out loud. Through their bodies pressed together, the vibration of Chaika’s laughter carried straight through him. It was a lovely, resonant sound.
“So smile a little more now. Stop going around with that miserable face every day, looking all pitiful.”
Mihail whispered against his ear, holding him tight. Chaika stared quietly at his own hand, the ring now resting on his finger, and then suddenly formed a faint smile.
***
After confirming that Mihail’s pheromones could ease Chaika’s morning sickness, the two of them practically stayed glued together all day long. More accurately, Mihail refused to leave Chaika’s side.
As the painful nausea eased, Chaika’s mood lifted a little as well, and the constantly gloomy expression he’d worn disappeared. In truth, Mihail’s secret gift played a large role in that—but since it was something only Chaika had heard, there was no way the other servants could know.
“Your Grace.”
The butler called carefully. Mihail and Chaika, who were sitting together with stacks of books piled up between them, both looked up at the same time. The books they were reading were history books—not because they were interested in history, but because they were choosing potential names for the child.
Mihail exclusively picked the names of heroes or outlaws who had once dominated entire eras, while Chaika selected the names of people who had lived peacefully in peaceful times and passed away quietly. Since what they wanted was completely different, they’d bickered at first, but eventually agreed to compile both lists in full.
“What is it?”
Mihail asked irritably, as if the interruption annoyed him. The butler stepped closer and leaned in to Mihail’s ear.
‘They’re asking for you in the conference room.’
After whispering that, the butler straightened. Mihail frowned. Being summoned from the conference room meant they’d made some headway on the task he’d given them earlier. It was important enough that he had to go in person—but he didn’t want to leave Chaika’s side, and in truth, he couldn’t.
Seeing Mihail’s furrowed brow, Chaika carefully closed the book he’d been holding and set it aside.
“Go.”
Chaika said, having roughly guessed what was going on. Mihail stroked Chaika’s hair in response. Then he fully opened his pheromones, flooding the room with them. The butler’s face stiffened as he hastily retreated backward. If only Mihail had given some warning, he could’ve gotten out of the way—but consideration like that had never been Mihail’s strong suit.
“I’ll be back quickly.”
As if he were leaving for a battlefield, Mihail pressed his lips to Chaika’s forehead and rose from the bed. His steps were slow, clearly reluctant to leave. When Mihail looked back, Chaika waved him off, urging him to go. Only then did Mihail finally leave the bedroom.
Up until the moment he stepped out, his pace had been sluggish—but the instant he exited the room, his stride lengthened and quickened. It had been exactly half a month since he’d locked those people into the conference room, and this was their first summons.
Knights stood guard outside the conference room. When Mihail opened the door and entered, the retainers inside—dark circles deeply set under their eyes, their faces haggard and exhausted—rose unsteadily from their seats.
Mihail swept his gaze across the room. The enormous conference hall had a long rectangular table at its center, surrounded by many chairs. In every corner of the room—normally used only for annual meetings—makeshift bedding had been spread out. These were the retainers’ temporary sleeping arrangements. They’d been instructed to ensure comfort, and they had—but no makeshift bedding could ever compare to a proper bed.
Their appearances alone made it obvious what kind of ordeal they’d endured, but Mihail made no comment on it and instead asked bluntly,
“So. Have you found a way?”
Though his manner was indifferent, none of them seemed offended. They were well accustomed to the Duke of Castiya.
“We’ve managed to establish a rough direction.”
The oldest among them—the legal advisor—spoke. Mihail pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat down, tilting his chin for him to continue.
The massive table was piled high with all manner of law books and ancient scrolls. Legal texts from other nations were there as well, along with rare old volumes that had been stored deep within Mihail’s private library. They’d spent the entire half month poring over all of it.
After moistening his lips with his tongue, the elderly legal advisor began.
“The law restricting omega property rights is extremely old—and extremely powerful. To argue its injustice requires a precedent of equal weight. We barely managed to find one in legal texts from the founding era.”
As he spoke, the advisor placed an ancient book bound with stitched parchment before Mihail.
Mihail flipped through the volume set in front of him. It was a rare compilation of documents dating back nearly a thousand years, bound together in parchment.
“This is….”
Mihail murmured as he turned the pages, and the legal advisor nodded.
“It’s a compilation of laws from countless ancient kingdoms. It’s an exceedingly rare book, but fortunately, it was part of Your Grace’s collection.”
The book truly deserved to be called ancient. With every page turned, the statutes of long-vanished kingdoms appeared one after another.
The current political situation on the continent was remarkably stable—but that hadn’t been the case even two hundred years ago. Alphas, driven by strong possessiveness and violent tendencies, frequently waged wars to expand their domains or their nations. In the process, an uncountable number of territories and countries had risen and fallen. The vast land of the present-day Masala Empire had been forged by conquering hundreds of such nations through prolonged warfare.
Even so, the Masala Empire did not lack tradition. In the very first article of its imperial code, Masala clearly declared itself the successor of the ancient Kingdom of Biyon, the oldest among the countless nations of a thousand years past. Over the long sweep of history, Biyon’s territory had shrunk and expanded countless times, royal castles had changed hands again and again, and the country’s name itself had changed repeatedly—but the Masala Empire proclaimed itself a thousand-year empire inheriting Biyon’s legacy.
Mihail’s hand, which had been carefully turning page after page, suddenly stopped. There lay a parchment bearing the statutes of the Kingdom of Biyon from a thousand years ago. Unlike the complex legal systems of the present, the laws of that small ancient kingdom were exceedingly simple. A single parchment listing barely twenty-some laws constituted the entirety of the nation’s legal code.
Mihail read the contents and slowly curled one corner of his lips upward. His gray eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
“As you can see, at the time of the founding, inheritance rights—and even succession rights—were passed down equally, regardless of whether one was an alpha or an omega. The shift to the current legal framework occurred roughly six hundred years ago, when the ruling family’s surname changed and the nation itself was renamed.”
“Masala clearly declares itself the successor of Biyon. That alone should be sufficient grounds.”
“Yes, but the nobles’ backlash will be considerable. There’s a strong possibility that His Majesty the Emperor will side with them as well.”
The legal advisor said heavily.
By “considerable,” he meant that every noble in the country would rise up in unison. Mihail might even be branded a traitor. That was how vital the control of omegas was to alphas.
“And if we can secure the support of some of the nobles?”
Mihail asked in an even, unremarkable tone.
“Th-then it would certainly be worth attempting. However… even if not a majority, we would need a significant level of participation from nobles with strong influence.”
“Hm.”
Arms crossed, Mihail sank briefly into thought. Then he rose from his chair.
“I’ll handle that part myself. You’ve done well.”
At Mihail’s words, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. At last, they could return home and sleep in their own beds. But it was still too early to relax.
