Chapter Text
Rainy days were always so depressing. Yeosang took a deep breath, holding the umbrella over his head to keep his delicate black clothes from getting ruined—even though he was sure his shoes would be a lost cause once he stepped out of the cemetery. Funerals were always so depressing.
He barely lifted his gaze from the grass getting soaked beneath his shoes to glance at the women crying on their knees beside the grave of their deceased relative. He didn’t even dare approach. He was far too used to being hated by his ex-husbands’ families, so it was better to keep his distance.
Most people had already left by the time Count Junyeo’s body was finally buried, leaving only close relatives to mourn. Yeosang was his husband—it would be rude to leave, and that was the only reason he stayed.
“He died after just fourteen days.”
Yeosang tensed up at the tired, raspy voice of his aunt. He barely tilted the umbrella to glance at the woman now standing beside him. She was dressed in black for the funeral, but her gown was as lavish as always—exactly what the Queen Mother demanded of herself.
“My deepest condolences, Yeosang. I wish I could sound more empathetic, but after seven condolences, you sort of lose the sincerity.”
Yeosang nodded and looked up at the sky.
“Yeah… it’s a shame. He lasted much less than the previous one.”
His aunt sighed.
“Aren’t you going to cry? At least out of courtesy? Count Junyeo’s mother and sisters seem genuinely devastated.”
“I can’t cry for a man I didn’t even know. Need I remind you that you only allowed me to meet him a couple weeks before the engagement? During the short period of our marriage, he didn’t even bother to speak to me unless it was to ask me into his bedroom.”
She cleared her throat.
“Yeosang, you shouldn’t speak ill of your ex-husband, especially not at his funeral.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Yeosang looked straight at her. Even if she was the Queen Mother, he never cared to hold back. After all, all of his consecutive marriages were thanks to her and her stubborn refusal to accept defeat. “That was my sixth husband, aunt. Are you really not going to give up? It’s obvious I’m cursed. There isn’t an alpha alive who could survive whatever curse keeps them from staying with me.”
“Oh, darling. Don’t say that…”
“I mean it, aunt. I’ve had enough. I don’t want another alpha to die just for being associated with me.”
Yeosang adjusted the umbrella over his shoulder and turned to leave, heading toward the carriage waiting for him outside the cemetery. He heard his aunt calling his name softly, but he didn’t look back.
Just as expected, his aunt didn’t listen.
Barely two months after the death of his seventh husband, Yeosang received a letter from the palace. When his butler handed it to him, he felt like crying—but time had numbed him to those things. Not even a single tear fell. That was the kind of miserable life he led.
After his parents died when he was just a baby, the queen—his aunt—had adopted him and raised him as one of her own. And even though political matters didn’t allow Yeosang to receive the same privileges, he still earned a title as prince, even if it wasn’t by blood.
As a teenager, Yeosang had hoped his life would be okay. But it all went downhill when, shortly after his societal debut, he was engaged to an older alpha. According to his aunt, the man was a good match and would take care of him. However… the alpha died barely a year into their marriage from a heart attack while traveling.
From that moment on, everything went wrong. His aunt insisted on finding him another fiancé, then another, hoping one would finally survive. But for some reason, they all died—each in tragic ways. None of them lasted more than a year as the third prince’s husband.
Yeosang took a deep breath, opening the letter with trembling hands.
“Are you sure you want to read it?”
He looked up at Wooyoung. His friend was seated next to him, lazily swirling the wine in his glass without paying much attention, but his frown gave away his concern.
“I’m hoping she didn’t find me another suitor. No one should want to come near me after what’s happened. I know I’m the third prince, but I’m twenty-eight—I should be off the marriage market by now. I don’t get why they keep trying, especially when I’m clearly cursed.”
Wooyoung took a sip and squinted at him.
“I’ll remind you that I’m also twenty-eight, and the proposals keep coming. I just refuse to accept any of them.” He shrugged, setting down his glass and dragging himself across the couch to rest against Yeosang’s side. “Besides, every social circle says you’re cursed. The rumor spread all the way to neighboring kingdoms. But for some reason, several alphas are treating it like a challenge.”
Yeosang wrinkled his nose.
“What nonsense.”
He opened the letter, hoping for something sensible—but as he read, his expression darkened and his lips quivered.
“To my beloved third prince,
Once again, I send my deepest condolences for the passing of your seventh husband. However, I hope you understand that life moves forward, and this simply means you are once again eligible in the marriage market.
We are mid-courting season, and I’ve received several offers on your behalf. Out of all the suitors, I have chosen a foreign alpha. He is a young man, twenty-four years old, who has proven to be graceful, skilled, and intelligent—on top of holding a very fine title.
I am certain this man will break the curse.
Please attend a small courtship meeting tomorrow at four in the afternoon. We’ll be waiting for you.
With love, your aunt.”
“Was I right?” Wooyoung asked as Yeosang folded the letter clumsily and tossed it onto the dessert table they were sharing.
“I guess so. That’s the shortest mourning period she’s ever observed—usually it takes her a year.”
“She wants to take advantage of the courting season. Don’t these people realize they’re going to die?”
“Who did she pick this time?”
“A foreign alpha. I suppose she thinks marrying someone who wasn’t born here will somehow change my fate.”
Wooyoung leaned further against him, nuzzling his cheek against Yeosang’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.
“You might as well try.”
Yeosang spent the rest of the day with Wooyoung. It was good to see him again after all the time invested in his seventh marriage. Plus, it was always comforting to have another omega around to exchange scent marks on their wrists—the kind that helped him feel protected.
Even though he hadn’t truly gotten to know his seventh husband, the man had marked him, and the pain would linger until Yeosang’s omega instincts finally understood that alpha was gone for good, wiping the scent from his neck.
It had become a routine. Every time one of Yeosang’s husbands died, Wooyoung would return to support him. When he thought about it, it was kind of depressing that his friend had taken on the role for so many years without once questioning when it would finally stop.
That night, they drank until late while playing cards, avoiding all talk of what seemed like an impending eighth marriage—one that, just like the others, Yeosang wouldn’t be able to avoid.
His aunt had grown truly persistent after marrying off all her sons and stepping into her role as Queen Mother, leaving her with far too much free time to torment Yeosang.
He wasn’t expecting this time to be any different.
Yeosang got up around noon, forced to bathe with the help of his servants. They dressed him in his finest, choosing one of his most colorful outfits—as if he weren’t still in mourning—and styled his hair with small jewels that shimmered under the sun. Yeosang felt embarrassed. Even if everything around him looked alive, he didn’t. His pale skin and dark circles gave him a hollow appearance from his lack of proper sleep.
He got into the carriage around three-thirty and arrived at the Queen Mother’s palace at about four twenty. He hoped his blatant delay would offend the pride of whatever alpha was interested in him.
He knew alphas all too well—each and every one of them had a thing about pride, treating omegas like possessions to mold at their whim. It was practically unheard of for Yeosang to show up late, but he couldn’t care less.
His aunt’s servants greeted him the moment he arrived, urging him to hurry and telling him she’d been asking for him for two hours. Yeosang simply watched them panic while he walked at a calm pace, not speeding up in the slightest. Even if he felt a bit guilty, he couldn’t give in.
He reached the gazebo in his aunt’s private garden. The scenery was as beautiful as ever, but Yeosang couldn’t get distracted by the view. His eyes fell immediately on the inside of the gazebo, where his aunt sat having tea with what seemed to be a very young alpha.
Twenty-four, he reminded himself. The alpha who showed interest in him was just twenty-four years old, which made him the youngest of Yeosang’s potential husbands so far.
He’d die young, Yeosang supposed.
He climbed the three steps to the gazebo and stepped into his aunt’s line of sight. She stood up the moment he entered, frowning, while the alpha—whom he could only see from the side—turned his head with what felt like agonizing slowness.
Even if he didn’t want to admit it, Yeosang was a little curious to see what a young alpha interested in a discarded omega like him might look like. What he didn’t expect was to be met with the brightest eyes he had ever seen.
Yeosang tilted his head slightly, one of the ornaments in his hair chiming. The alpha seemed to swallow hard, nervously fidgeting before balling his hands into fists at his sides and rising slowly to his feet. He looked like he was absolutely terrified of the whole situation, and Yeosang couldn’t help but wonder why he’d put himself through something so uncomfortable.
“My beloved third prince,” the Queen Mother said as she approached Yeosang and smoothed his bangs to the side. “Did you arrive late because of an emergency?”
“No. I just didn’t want to come,” Yeosang replied plainly, not taking the bait she offered, and instead focusing his gaze on the alpha. “Is it him?”
His aunt winced.
“Yes, let me introduce you to—”
She left the sentence hanging for the alpha to pick up, but he took at least ten seconds to process it, unable to take his eyes off Yeosang. Finally, he cleared his throat and stepped forward, placing a hand over his chest and bowing slightly. Yeosang couldn’t say he was impressed—everyone was required to do that, even to an omega.
His title outranked any biological hierarchy.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Highness. My name is Choi Jongho, Duke of Aurora and younger brother to the King of Solaris. It is an honor to be in your presence today.”
Yeosang pressed his lips together, waiting for the alpha to stop bowing before he looked him in the eyes.
Once he did, Yeosang could take in his features properly. He was unmistakably young, with thick black hair slicked back, and eyes that could soften even the coldest person. He wore garments tailored to perfection and bore the emblems of his family with evident pride.
So... Duke of Aurora and brother to the King of Solaris.
Yeosang realized he was standing before one of the most important men in the neighboring kingdom, and a knot twisted in his stomach.
Why would someone like this be interested in him?
“Greetings, Duke Choi. I am Kang Yeosang, third prince of the Kingdom of Crescent.”
He knew he was expected to add *‘son of the king and queen’*, but since that was a lie, he never bothered to say it.
“It is an honor to be in your presence today.”
The lie felt heavy in his mouth. He offered a shallow bow, keeping his hands pressed neatly over his abdomen in an attempt to soothe the unrest inside him. It felt odd and awkward.
His aunt took him by the arm to bring him closer to the alpha. Yeosang didn’t flinch, but Duke Choi swallowed hard again. Yeosang ignored his nerves—mainly because his scent suddenly surrounded him. It was musky, with hints of pink pepper, fresh and invigorating. Nothing like the smoky, woody scent Count Junyeo used to wear.
“The Duke has shown genuine interest in you and requested permission to court you, which I have granted,” the Queen Mother announced, lifting her hand to summon her personal attendant.
“I will leave my assistant here as a chaperone, and the guards will remain for your safety. Understood?”
Yeosang nodded, though he wasn’t pleased. A chaperone? It wasn’t like he was some virginal young omega or a flustered thing desperate to throw himself at the duke and beg for his knot. He was far from either.
Still, his aunt left after shooting him a look of disapproval.
Yeosang sighed. The sound made the duke blink back to reality. He cleared his throat and stepped forward to pull out a chair for Yeosang.
“Please, have a seat, Your Majesty.”
Yeosang sat as requested, though feeling the alpha behind him made him slightly dizzy.
His last alpha had died not long ago, and since Yeosang hadn’t liked him, he had spent months avoiding close contact with other alphas.
Duke Choi fit the type: tall, strong… but that refreshing scent gave him something unique. Yeosang’s omega side found itself mildly fascinated.
“Did you wait long for me?” he asked, once the duke sat across from him. He hoped the question would provoke something, prove that he was like every other alpha—but Jongho quickly shook his head.
“No, not at all. I was just… a little anxious to meet you, so it was hard to contain my excitement.”
The duke spoke in a soft and calm voice, opting to serve a slice of peach tart onto Yeosang’s plate.
Yeosang frowned slightly at the gesture. It couldn’t be a coincidence—this was his favorite dessert. He must’ve pried that information out of his aunt while waiting.
Before he could even get annoyed, Jongho was preparing his tea as well—without bothering to call one of the attendants waiting patiently at the edge of the gazebo. It was the first time a noble alpha had done something like that for him.
“Are you used to doing everything yourself, Duke?”
“Most of the time, yes. But today, I wanted to serve you.”
The duke smiled, visibly proud of himself. Yeosang frowned at him again.
“May I call you by your name?” Jongho asked. “I’d like you to do the same with mine.”
“I don’t think you understand what you’re doing.”
The duke tilted his head. Yeosang disliked how young he looked when he made expressions like that, curiosity in his eyes and lips gently pursed.
“Why do you say that?”
“Are you aware of my curse?”
The duke blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“I believe my curse is one of the most talked-about subjects in this kingdom. I don’t know if the rumors reached the nobility in Solaris, but I need to be sure you know who you’re dealing with—and what you’re getting into.”
“I’ve heard about that nonsense.”
“Nonsense?”
Yeosang nearly gasped the word. Jongho only nodded.
“It’s nonsense. Someone as beautiful as you can’t possibly be cursed. You’ve just… suffered many unfortunate events.”
“Seven dead husbands aren’t ‘unfortunate events.’ What else would you call that besides a curse? What do you want so badly that you’re willing to take the risk?”
“I want to court you.”
“You want to find your death.” Yeosang replied coldly. “I’ve had seven husbands, Duke Choi. My first marriage was at seventeen—I was engaged to Marquis Yun, who was already twelve years older than me. He died a year later, even though he was considered a healthy alpha. Ever since, my aunt has insisted on finding alphas who might survive me. The nobles say I’m cursed, but alphas keep showing up. So tell me—why are you insisting on chasing your own downfall? I want the truth.”
The alpha licked his lips. Yeosang had seen him as a stubborn little pup up until then—until Jongho looked him in the eyes with a serious expression and answered in a firm, steady voice:
“I said I want to court you. I understand you may not want another husband… considering everything. But I can assure you, I won’t die.”
“And what makes you so sure of that?”
“I couldn’t die with a husband like you. I wouldn’t allow myself to.”
Yeosang lost every shred of admiration he might have had for the alpha’s boldness.
Yes. The man was clearly a fool.
“You don’t get a say in your death if you get involved with me. Every alpha who’s ever tried to claim me ends up learning that the hard way.”
Yeosang ended the conversation then and there, choosing instead to toss two sugar cubes into his tea and stir with frustration, hoping his anger would dissolve like sugar in water.
He was trying to warn this young, well-titled alpha that he would find nothing but ruin if he married him. But the man didn’t seem to appreciate the effort.
In fact, he was being persistent over something as foolish as… liking him. Not his title. Him .
“Yeosang.” The duke had the audacity to say his name, so Yeosang didn’t grant him the luxury of his attention. “I think that... if marrying you means I’m headed for misfortune, then I’m meeting the most wonderful misfortune of all.”
Yeosang nodded, taking a sip of tea in hopes the cup would hide the heat rising to his cheeks. The compliment wasn’t even impressive—he’d heard it before from other suitors, and if things continued as they had, it wouldn’t be the last time either.
“So I assume you’re obsessed with my looks,” he said. “I thought maybe the desire to be connected to the crown had something to do with your irrational decision.”
The duke looked offended.
“I’m the King of Solaris’s brother. I already have my title, and I’m content with it. I have no interest in gaining influence in your family’s political circles. Besides, neither of us is anywhere near the throne—it’s not something I need.”
Yeosang sighed.
“This just gets stranger and stranger…”
“I’m simply… genuinely interested in you,” Jongho replied. The alpha’s shoulders slumped. Despite looking strong enough to knock down ten men, he seemed pitiful in that moment. “Your Majesty… you’re a truly beautiful omega, but I’ve also heard you’ve helped pass laws within the monarchy—that shows intelligence. I’ve… I’ve seen you at a few dances. I know how you carry yourself. I really admire the way you speak and exist, and so—”
“Duke Choi,” Yeosang interrupted, leaning in slightly. Jongho quickly averted his gaze the moment he was that close. “Are you a stalker?”
“Of course not! I’m only trying to show my admiration for you.”
“Hm…”
“And besides, I asked you to call me by my name.”
“And I didn’t agree to that.” Yeosang didn’t raise his voice, but still earned another pout from the duke. “My aunt never says no when an alpha asks for my hand. So if you’re going to move forward, I want you to know that I gave you my warning.”
“Understood. But I’d still like you to accept me.”
Yeosang scrunched his nose.
“Why?”
“Because you’re the one I’m interested in. I’m not seeking a relationship with Crescent’s royal family. I just want you to accept me.”
The dizziness in his stomach deepened.
Yeosang hated feeling this pleased.
This alpha was just another oddity—someone pushing past every boundary for a desire as illogical as wanting him.
Yeosang should’ve felt repulsed. But he didn’t.
“May I ask, what are your plans for the next few months?” he asked. “As in, your responsibilities as a duke.”
“Absolutely, but… why are you asking?”
“I need to know what my husband will be doing before he dies.”
The duke lit up at the word husband, but that spark quickly faded as the rest of the sentence hit him.
“That’s not very encouraging.”
“It’s what you asked for, Jongho.”
When Yeosang said his name, the alpha’s eyes lit up again.
Yeosang really wondered if he wasn’t looking at some overgrown puppy desperate for attention. It was madness that an alpha so important could behave this way—but here was Jongho, proving it was possible.
This was starting to feel like the strangest marriage he’d ever experience.