The herbalist, his complexion haggard and drained, looked as though he had been pushing himself far too hard; as he walked toward the desk, his legs trembled unsteadily. When the butler handed him a glass of water, the herbalist accepted it with both hands and gulped it down in great swallows. It was obvious he’d come running without even stopping to drink. The repeated threats—renewing the deadline every two or three days and warning that he’d hang himself if this one was missed—seemed to have worked rather well.
“Please speak quickly.”
The butler urged him on. The herbalist nodded, swallowed hard once, then opened his mouth.
“What His Grace ordered me to find is a plant called Bellagie. Its natural growing area is extremely small and limited, so it can be considered a rare species. Since it’s neither used as medicine nor as poison, it’s usually treated as nothing more than a weed.”
“And?”
Irritation and impatience colored Mihail’s question. He wanted an answer quickly so he could run to where he needed to be.
“To ordinary humans… that is, Betas, it’s neither medicine nor poison—just a common weed. However, it’s said to have a very particular effect on Omegas. But since almost no Omegas actually use it, there are very few people who know much about it.”
Mihail’s brow creased deeply. He had intended to hear, briefly, whether it was medicine or poison and what effect it had, then leap up from his seat. Taking that furrowed brow as a sign of urgency, the herbalist sped up his explanation.
“When an Omega consumes it, it acts similarly to a suppressant. It can suppress the heat cycle, but if taken regularly, it completely prevents an Omega’s natural pheromones from being released, allowing them to live almost like a Beta.”
“……”
“However… because Bellagie neutralizes an Omega’s pheromones through its inherent toxicity, the side effects upon ingestion are severe. With long-term use, the body grows extremely weak, various organs are damaged, and it ultimately leads to death.”
Having finished, the herbalist cautiously watched Mihail’s reaction. Mihail remained silent, a deep crease still etched between his brows. The words the herbalist had poured out shattered, reassembled, and spun endlessly in his mind.
Beta. Weed. Omega. Suppression. Pheromones. Toxicity. Side effects. Damage. Death.
“…Live like a Beta?”
When Mihail murmured this, the herbalist nodded.
“Yes. That’s why, on occasion, Omegas who fear that the child they’ve borne might be sold off somewhere by the child’s father secretly obtain this and take it. Of course… instead of being sold, they live despised as Betas and die young. Still, there are Omegas who think that’s the better option…”
“In just a few days… everything will go back to normal… I can live like this. Just like now.”
Chaika’s words from two days ago suddenly resurfaced. Words that had snagged in Mihail’s mind the moment he heard them. Come to think of it, the creature said things like that with unusual frequency.
“I like it like this, Lord Mihail. Just the way things are now. I don’t need anything else.”
“I just… wish everything could stay like it is now. That nothing would change in this state—Lord Mihail would be Lord Mihail as you are now, and I’d be who I am now… I wish it could stay that way.”
“……. So… that thing… is an Omega?”
No matter how he twisted his thoughts, Mihail muttered aloud the conclusion he always reached. Yet no matter how much he thought about it, it made no sense. Something so small, so insignificant, so cute and lovable couldn’t possibly be an Omega.
His reason split into two paths, arguing fiercely with each other. But it always ended in a one-sided victory.
A plant with no effect whatsoever on Betas. A poisonous herb that acted only on Omegas. The creature secretly cultivating Bellagie. The bitter scent of Bellagie that always clung to him. To exude that scent from his entire body as if it were his natural body odor—just how long had he been consuming that poisonous herb? Skin so pale it was almost translucent, a thin body so fragile that even a single cough made his ribs seem ready to shatter and spring outward. Blood he spat up with each cough. A body said to survive barely ten, fifteen years because it was so weak.
“…If taken long-term, how long do they live?”
The herbalist, frozen in place and watching Mihail’s mood, swallowed dryly and answered slowly.
“Because long-term cases are so rare, even the physicians I met couldn’t be certain. But in the single case I personally witnessed—someone who’d been taking it continuously since childhood—they didn’t make it past twenty. I’ve also heard rumors of other Omegas who lived much shorter lives than Betas.”
Creeeak—
The chair screamed as it was shoved back. Mihail rose from his seat, stood there motionless for a moment, then began walking toward the door.
“Your Grace?”
He heard the herbalist call out, but it sounded faint, as though from a great distance. Each step toward the door felt unreal, as if he were walking on clouds. It was like floating through empty air. Even so, his body faithfully opened the door, stepped into the corridor, and headed for its destination. It felt as though his soul and body were moving separately.
“In just a few days… everything will go back to normal… I can live like this. Just like now.”
“I like it like this, Lord Mihail. Just the way things are now. I don’t need anything else.”
“I just… wish everything could stay like it is now. That nothing would change in this state—Lord Mihail would be Lord Mihail as you are now, and I’d be who I am now… I wish it could stay that way.”
Like now. Just like this. In this state.
Only now did the meaning of Chaika’s habitual words take full shape and smash into Mihail’s head.
That thing is an Omega? An Omega pretending to be a Beta?
Mihail muttered to himself over and over. One side of his mind stubbornly denied it—there was no way that thing could be an Omega, no way it could be such a repulsive breed. But the other side had already accepted it. Considering everything together, the creature was an Omega. An Omega pretending to be a Beta.
Before he realized it, he was standing in front of the door to Nile’s chambers. He barely remembered walking here from his office.
“Your Grace.”
The two knights guarding the door bowed their heads. Mihail slowly extended a hand toward the door. Simply placing his hand on it felt like reaching into the jaws of a massive beast.
“…….”
Mihail blinked. Though the thick, sturdy door was tightly shut, the pheromones of a heat cycle were faintly leaking through the gap. A sensual, obscene scent that irresistibly drew in nearby Alphas—one that couldn’t be fully concealed despite suppressants….
“…Chaika….”
Mihail murmured as he sensed the pheromones. This wasn’t Nile’s. The scent and its texture were different from Nile’s. There were only two people inside. If it wasn’t Nile, then it had to be Chaika’s scent.
Mihail slowly pushed the door open. A rush of provocative, sensual pheromones poured out through the opening. The knights at the door flinched and stepped back several paces. The obscene pheromones tempted Mihail. He stepped slowly inside and closed the door behind him.
“…Y-Your… Grace?”
Nile, standing beside the bed with a medicine bowl in his hands, wore a startled expression. Nile, who should have been fast asleep under suppressants due to his heat cycle, didn’t know where to look upon seeing Mihail and soon bit down hard on his lower lip.
“…Your Grace.”
Nile called softly, but his face showed that he had no idea what he was supposed to say.
Mihail approached the bed with slow steps. On one side of the wide, plush bed lay a small figure. The very creature he’d been desperate to rush over and snatch away just moments ago was now fast asleep, eyes closed, face pale.
As Mihail drew closer, Nile retreated backward. Mihail stood right beside the bed and stared down at Chaika. Brown hair, soaked with cold sweat, clung to his forehead. Mihail shifted his gaze to the bowl in Nile’s hand. From it wafted the same bitter scent that always emanated from Chaika, so strong it numbed his sense of smell. Snatching the bowl and peering inside, he saw a murky green liquid—thick juice squeezed from crushed poisonous herbs—half filling it.
“…….”
“Your Grace, that is—”
Nile stepped forward and began to speak. Mihail hurled the bowl against the wall and immediately struck Nile across the cheek. Nile collapsed to the floor without even managing a scream.
“…Ugh.”
Blood trickled from the corner of Nile’s mouth. Clutching his struck cheek, he slowly pushed himself upright. Mihail looked back and forth between the shattered bowl and Nile.
“You fed poison to the younger brother you cherish so dearly?”
“…It’s not what you think.”
Nile replied calmly as he rose to his feet. He went to a table in one corner of the room, brought over a kettle and another bowl, and set them down on the bedside table. He poured liquid from the kettle into the bowl. It was the same liquid as before.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
Mihail grabbed Nile by the collar and hauled him up. Yet even with his feet dangling in the air and his life threatened, Nile’s expression showed no fear at all.
“He has to take it.”
“You’re saying you’ll feed him poison right in front of me?”
“He has to. His body is too weak—without this, he won’t be able to endure a heat cycle.”
“Give him suppressants.”
As he said it, Mihail realized something. Even as he’d been denying it internally, his reason had already fully accepted the fact that Chaika was an Omega. The creature was an Omega.
“He’s been taking that since childhood, so ordinary suppressants don’t work.”
“So you’ll just keep feeding him poison?”
Cracks formed in Nile’s previously calm expression. His beautiful face slowly twisted.
“That’s the only way I can protect this child!”
Nile screamed desperately and shoved away the hand gripping his collar. It was pathetically weak, but Mihail released his hold. Nile slumped to the floor, braced himself with one hand, and stood again. Then he reached once more for the bowl.
“You’re insane.”
Mihail snatched the bowl of Bellagie juice and threw it against the wall. As it shattered, Nile pulled the kettle filled with the juice tightly into his arms, as if to shield it.
“It’s the last of it. If he can’t take this, this child will die.”
