The route overlapped quite a bit with the paths Mihail usually took, but at some point it veered off onto a side path bordering a neatly maintained garden. From there, they passed through a narrow trail he hadn’t even known existed, wandering between flowerbeds and trees. Though narrow, every inch of the path was carefully packed down, clearly meant for walking. Still, since Mihail had no particular hobby of admiring garden flowers or trees, it was a path he’d never walked before.
As Mihail followed Nile, he found himself thinking that they’d hired an excellent gardener. From the outside, he’d thought it was nothing more than a well-kept garden, but once he stepped inside, there were small labyrinths formed by trees and tunnels made of intertwined rose vines. It felt as though he were walking through some kind of secret garden.
Realizing for the first time that such a space and scenery existed within his own castle, Mihail followed Nile in silence without a single complaint, even as the walk stretched on longer than expected. Of course, this wasn’t merely a leisurely stroll. There was a very clear purpose to this walk.
He had already identified every major route that the creature’s eyes and feet could reach, and he’d even pinpointed the location where the creature had made his nest. Despite storming that nest multiple times like sudden raids, he hadn’t once managed to catch even a glimpse of the creature’s scruffy hair. Perhaps because the nest had been thoroughly disturbed, the creature had begun to keep an even lower profile. The library, which he used to visit every few days without fail, had recently seen none of his footsteps at all. In other words, Mihail hadn’t even been able to grab the tip of that creature’s tail for quite some time.
Moving with extreme caution, the creature had likely abandoned all of his usual routes as well. But there was one thing Mihail was certain of: since the creature was connected to Nile closely enough to build a nest, tracing Nile’s usual paths and the places he frequented might reveal the creature’s new movements. And calculations driven largely by instinct—Mihail’s specialty—were almost never wrong.
“…Your Grace?”
When Mihail suddenly stopped after following in silence for so long, Nile noticed and turned back, calling out in a puzzled voice. Having already finished his business with Nile, Mihail waved a hand dismissively in his direction.
“You may return to your quarters now.”
When Nile hesitated at the abrupt notice in the middle of their walk, a maid who knew her master’s temperament all too well stepped up beside him and gently urged, “Please return at once.” Only then did Nile bow his head and resume walking back the way they’d come.
After Nile and his attendants had moved far away, Mihail tilted his chin slightly upward and drew in a deep breath of the surrounding air. As expected. Hidden cleverly among the thick scents of flowers, grass, and trees was that distinctive bitter fragrance. With the animal-like sense of smell he prided himself on, Mihail didn’t miss it.
He pushed his way through the low, round, meticulously trimmed trees deeper inside the garden. How long had he gone, forcing his way forward guided only by direction rather than any proper path? Beneath a cluster of trees, on shaded ground, a small colony of plants had taken root. When he stepped closer, he saw that they were shaped unlike anything he’d seen before—deep green leaves streaked with several vivid red lines. At a glance, they looked poisonous.
Lowering himself into a crouch, Mihail brought his nose close to them. There was no doubt about it. This was the creature’s scent. For reasons unknown, the creature was secretly cultivating these plants here. The corners of Mihail’s mouth lifted on their own. The more desperately prey struggled to erase its tracks, the more excited the hunter became.
With the practiced finesse of a seasoned hunter, Mihail erased every trace of his presence and left the area. Then he searched for a spot with a clear view of where the creature’s secret cultivation site was hidden. From the window of a room at the far western edge of the castle—used only when many guests visited or on rare occasions—he could see the concealed cluster of trees and the surrounding garden at a glance. Mihail had a chair and table placed by the window and settled in. It was time to close the distance between himself and that creature even further.
Time spent waiting always seems to flow slower and heavier than usual. Still, Mihail didn’t change his posture even once, his gaze fixed in place. There was no boredom, no impatience. A skilled hunter who has set a trap doesn’t grow restless or doubtful—he simply waits in silence.
A reddish sunset spread across the sky, only to be swallowed soon after by darkness. Servants responsible for garden maintenance lit lamps throughout the grounds. The inner castle’s garden took on a different kind of beauty at night, thanks in no small part to the carefully arranged lighting.
But those meticulously placed lights barely reached the creature’s cultivation site. It was an area of the garden that had received relatively little attention, and the dense cluster of trees with their abundant leaves perfectly concealed the plot beneath them.
The area around the cultivation site was almost completely submerged in darkness. Anyone with poor night vision would have abandoned the attempt from the start, and even someone with sharp eyes would have to move carefully, scanning their surroundings with each step. It was the perfect time for the creature to approach. With eyesight far superior to that of ordinary humans, Mihail watched the area closely, gauging from which direction the creature would come.
“Shall I have your meal brought here?”
The butler, who had been stuck at the secluded guestroom window along with his master, asked cautiously. Mihail didn’t respond. Instead of asking again, the butler quietly poured a fresh cup of warm tea into the empty teacup before him.
Time dragged on tediously. Darkness fully settled, the night deepened, and midnight passed. The creature still didn’t show himself. Mihail’s silent waiting continued. The night only grew deeper, until at last, far in the distance, dawn began to break faintly.
That brief moment just as dawn arrived—when hazy blue light spread over the land, making everything look dim and indistinct. Mihail’s eyes flashed. A small figure was passing along the narrow trail, approaching the cluster of trees. The window was slightly open, and despite Mihail’s beast-like hearing, not a single footstep reached him. Even while walking through such a secluded area at the most vulnerable hour, when everyone was fast asleep, the creature maintained absolute caution without making a sound.
Only after checking the surroundings again did the creature disappear beneath the trees’ shadows. Mihail couldn’t see what he was doing under there, but faint sounds told him enough—the creature was picking the plant’s leaves. Tok. Tok. Tok. Tok. Tok. After plucking five leaves, there came the sound of a hand slipping into clothing and withdrawing again. The sound of bundled cloth being unfolded, then folded several times over. And finally, the sound of the cloth bundle being tucked deep back into his clothes.
Mihail focused intently on those faint sounds, piecing together the creature’s actions. Then, suddenly, a memory surfaced. The first day he’d seen him—curled up tightly, with a sharply protruding neck bone and skin so pale it looked almost bloodless. Beneath trousers hiked high enough to expose them completely, thin, white ankles. A tiny, pale chin glimpsed through fluffy brown hair, and the only part tinged with color—those small, reddish lips.
Crunch.
For some reason, his jaw muscles clenched. His hands grew unbearably itchy.
Once this hunt was over, that protruding neck bone, those bony, slender white ankles, that tiny chin, those reddish lips…
“……”
Mihail paused mid-thought, clenching and unclenching his restless hands, when an unfamiliar wall suddenly rose up before him. A barrier he’d never once considered before.
It wasn’t a robust deer with magnificent antlers, nor a ferocious bear as large as a hut. Unlike the prey he’d hunted with pleasure until now, this one was neither beautiful nor strong—just a pitiful, emaciated creature in miserable condition. Its fur wasn’t even glossy; it was a dull, crumbly, utterly ordinary brown.
What exactly was he supposed to do after catching something like that? Killing people in war or battle had been commonplace, but what use was there in capturing a scrawny little weakling who looked like he’d die from a single blow?
Slit that thin neck, and there likely wouldn’t be enough blood to even quench thirst. Cut open that narrow chest, and the organs inside would be as small as its body—its liver no bigger than a bean, hardly worth a single bite. And unlike that great brown bear from long ago, this creature wouldn’t even provide the thrill of a fierce, life-or-death struggle.
For Mihail, who had always lived freely—following his instincts, his whims, his nature without obstruction—it felt like smashing his head against an inexplicable wall for the first time in ages.
Meanwhile, the creature quietly emerged from the tree shadows and began checking the surroundings again.
Still not entirely free of his thoughts, Mihail pointed toward the figure visible outside the window and called the butler.
“That one.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The butler, dark shadows under his eyes from having stayed up all night thanks to his master, pressed close to the window to look where Mihail pointed. By now, the pale dawn light had grown brighter, enough that with careful focus, one could make out a human shape.
“Who exactly is that small one over there?”
At Mihail’s question, the butler pressed his face so close to the window it was nearly touching the glass, staring intently for a long while. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he took his time before finally letting out a small exclamation.
“That child is a menial who came along with Lord Nile.”
“Came along with Nile?”
The butler nodded quickly and explained the situation.
“When Marquis Lucius brought Lord Nile here, the boy came with him. Lord Nile insisted strongly on keeping him by his side, and Count Vasari granted permission. According to Marquis Lucius, he’s a beta born from the same mother as Nile—a full sibling.”
“A beta born from Nile’s mother?”
Mihail frowned as if he’d just heard something utterly bizarre.
And it was bizarre. Compared to alphas, omegas were exceedingly rare. Alphas, who couldn’t produce heirs without omegas, invested great effort into possessing and protecting them. In particular, alphas never tolerated betas laying a hand on omegas. If such a case were discovered, it was an unspoken rule to kill the beta without exception, regardless of whether the omega had consented or not.
Children born between an alpha and an omega were always either alpha or omega. For Nile’s mother to have given birth to a beta meant she’d been involved with a beta. That beta partner would undoubtedly have been killed. The fact that the beta child born in the meantime had been allowed to live at all was nothing short of miraculous.
