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Phainon was often told he was like a fairy tale prince.

Exceptional grades, a charming personality, that easy-going way to befriend everyone, his eye-catching handsome face — the way his smile would enchant even the most stoic person. A hard working man who always helped those around him. The unanimously elected president of the student council during university, and a trusty colleague at work.

A gentleman, a kind and cheerful young man eager to lend a hand. The golden boy with the brightest future. Someone who made men and women alike swoon and blush just by being around.

He could only smile and humbly express his gratitude every time someone praised him.

Truth was, though, that all these people barely knew him at all.

Because none of them would even dare to imagine what Phainon did in the solitude of his house. Who would even think, out of everyone else, it was Phainon who harbored such a perverse secret?

He could only laugh to himself every time he came back home, tired and drained of being put on a pedestal the whole day, and remembered how everyone idolized the same man who every night crawled on his bed with the sole reason of fantasizing for long, dark hours looking at a bunch of pixels on his phone.

And he wasn’t ashamed of that, of course not. What was there to be ashamed of, even if he knew that his… hobby was mostly going to be frown upon if it were to be known? He couldn’t care a single bit even if he tried.

And it was because no matter how his life seemed to be fulfilling and successful, Phainon would’ve been completely drown in everyone’s expectations for him if it wasn’t for Petite Parabole, one of the first webnovels he read back in high school while trying to distract himself from the monotonous flow of time, the story that would quickly become his safe place, his only source of comfort for the rest of his days.

He had read romantic novels before, but Petite Parabole had been his first Boys Love story, one that hooked him in the first chapters like no other had ever did. The magical world of heroes, the charming characters, the tale of a protagonist in his journey to save as many people as he could while searching for the romance of his life. Though, Phainon would admit to himself —and the countless comments he had left online— that it wasn’t the protagonist or the story itself that had caught his attention. No, not at all.

It had been the main love interest that had Phainon completely head over heels from the very second he read his introduction.

Phainon took his shoes off and let the heavy backpack slip from his shoulder, landing on the floor with a heavy thud. His arms and wrists ached, and he was dehydrated so badly his head was pounding. The meetings had been longer and tense; a department he couldn’t even remember had fucked up something he didn’t bother to hear, and now they were back to square one, having to re-do the whole project from zero with no deadline extension.

That only meant extra hours. Phainon despised changes on his routine, more so if they weren’t his fault to being with — but there was nothing he could do more than try to get a hold of his thinning patience and guide his team members as the Finance and Accounting project manager.

It came without saying that the moment he could dip, he pulled out an Irish goodbye on them.

He arrived at home feeling beat up, his shoulders sore and his eyes stung like lemon slices had slipped under his eyelids. The annoying fitted suit made it impossible for him to breath, and he didn’t want to think about the ache in his wrists from typing on his laptop the whole day.

After changing to more comfortable clothes, he immediately let himself fall on his bed, instinctively pulling up his phone, fingers already tapping on the cracked screen with practiced movements. The white screen blinded him for a second before the app home screen showed the newest novels and the most recent updates.

Phainon barely looked at the newest titles before he was already searching on his bookmarks — pinned at the very top, Petite Parabole cover greeted him like a bartender nodded at a regular. He tapped on the cover, the chapter where he had left the prior night opened, and Phainon felt like he could breath again.

“Where is it…” he mumbled to himself, scrolling down the thick paragraphs, azure eyes quickly scanning the words until he found the part he was looking for, almost at the middle of the chapter. His eyes lighted up, a fond smile forming on his lips. “There you are.”

[ … and the doors opened wide, the ballroom quickly falling into ushered silence, as everyone hold their breath, eyes fixed on the start of the stairs to be able to catch a glimpse of His Highness. Just the mere sound of boots already had a young maiden besides Caelus swoon. He couldn’t quite share the enthusiasm yet. Was this prince that big of a deal? He knew Castrum Kremnos’ one and only prince was adored by his people, but he hadn’t thought it would be up to this point.

But all his thoughts went blank as soon as the figure emerged from behind the doors.

Right there, standing like Nikador themselves had descended to the mortal realm, stood Castrum Kremnos’ Crown Prince, Mydeimos, as regal and dignified as Caelus had heard he was. Long blonde hair cascading over his shoulders, tips fading to a crimson hue that resembled the ripest strawberries, broad shoulders ornamented by golden epaulets, his wide chest tightened the dark vest around him, and toned arms were outlined by the black jacket, trimmed with what he could see was actual gold threads.

The sweet, tart fragrance of pomegranates filled the grand room like a thin blanket, present but not intrusive, as gentle as the alpha’s eyes as he looked at his subjects.

Even someone like him, who used his silver tongue to sing praises to the beauty of those around him, found his throat dry at the sight of the prince’s narrow waist and powerful thighs. It truly wasn’t an exaggeration, then, how many single nobles had waited for the royal ball to get their sights on the crown prince. Caelus now understood that it wasn’t solely for the consort position, but to be able to get their hands on the beautiful prince and posses him.

He was deep lost in his thoughts, eyes staring at the blond man, that he failed to grasp the start of his speech. Caelus’ ears tinted pink at the knowing side glance he received from his sister Stelle.

“– for today, the royal family had the great honor to host this banquet in the name of the heroes who selflessly landed their help to our people, fighting alongside us against the black tide monsters. As such, I invite everyone to express gratitude to our heroes.”

Caelus felt his breathing stop as soon as the prince’s honey eyes landed on him. Those feline eyes —was Caelus, perhaps, dreaming?— softened a bit as they looked at each other.

“Please, an applause to our saviors. Miss March, Lord Dan Heng… and,” Caelus would swear he caught the ghost of a smile on the prince’s lips. “Amphoreus’ heroes, Caelus and Stelle.”

Even the thundering applause and praises sung by the nobles around them couldn’t make Caelus take his eyes away from Mydeimos. The prince crossed his arms over his chest, the tilt of his head paired with a curios expression made Caelus finally snap out of it, cheeks blushing and eyes quickly averting to somewhere else… ]

“It should’ve been me!” Phainon shoved his face on his pillow, frustrated tears sticking to the corner of his eyes as he then started to smash his head repeatedly against the fluffy pillow. “I want Mydei to look at me like that!” he stopped hitting himself to re-read the same passage, grumbling and biting his lip with a wronged, almost teary expression alike one a kicked puppy would wear.

“Caelus,” he groaned, the name like poison on his tongue. “You already have Dan Heng and that rich noble from Penacony! Leave Mydei to me!” he lamented as he shook his phone on his hands like it was the protagonist’ neck. “Why my precious Mydei had to be the main love interest?! I would have a chance if he were the second male lead!”

He rolled around on his bed, biting the inside of his cheek as he let out frustrated mumbles. And what if Mydei wasn’t real? The author had created the most gorgeous man to ever exist, and Phainon wasn’t the one at fault for his feelings! Call him delusional, but he couldn’t be blamed if he fantasized about being Mydei’s husband. Even if it made his stomach sink and his chest hurt to admit, Phainon wasn’t the only one who could see how the prince was too much, even for the so-called heroic protagonist.

Damned protagonist. What did he have that made Mydei interested in him? Phainon might be a broke white-collar salary man, but at least he had a job! What did Caelus had?! A fancy sword he stole from an ancient dungeon?!

Too busy tearing up at the unfairness of not being Mydei’s lover, he missed the first two rings of the phone call. At the third ring, he finally looked at the top of his screen, and grimaced.

“You have to be kidding me,” he sighed deeply before answering the call. Trying to hide his annoyance, he cleared his throat, closed his eyes for a second, and replied with a gentle voice. “Hello? Ms. Julia? Yes, I’m at home right now– huh?”

He suddenly tensed up, frowning at his coworker’s muffled, static words. “… No, I mean, I could go earlier tomorrow if the team really needs help, but right now? I don’t think–” he pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling a vein throb in his neck. “… Yeah! Yes, yes, I will be there in about ten minutes? Please tell the others to not panic, I will be there soon.”

Without waiting for the relieved thanks he knew he would get, he ended the call.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath as he got up from his bed, a hand coming up to mess with his hair in a stressed habit. His eyes looked at the clock. Nine forty-five PM. “Calling me over at this hour.”

But what could Phainon do if not help? That was his whole reputation, being the selfless guy who you could call at whatever hour of the day and he would gladly help you out. He had built this persona brick by brick since high school — anything to get better opportunities in the city so he could provide for his family back in the small town he was from.

He sometimes wished he didn’t form this entire image around him. Had it been really worthy?

There was no use in regretting what was already done, though. As the project manager, his team’s mistakes were his to shoulder, and he would rather guide them and order them around on his free hours than to hear any reprimand from the higher ups that would end up in blaming him if anything went wrong.

With the weight of his past decisions already setting on his back and internally sobbing that he could not spend the following hours staring at Mydei’s beautiful face and scrumptious body, Phainon closed the front door behind himself.

The streets were congested, nothing surprising as it was a work day — Wednesday, if Phainon remembered correctly. Not that it really mattered, as every day looked exactly the same as the day before, and would look exactly the same way the following day, and the days to come. People came and went, some tired to the bones and some trying to hurry to their destination. Cars honked and drivers shouted from their windows, speeding past the street signals limits and making their wheels screech against the old, cracked asphalt. The bright lights stung his tired eyes, and he belatedly realized he forgot his glasses back home. But he didn’t have time to go back, not if he wanted to actually rest sooner than later.

“Excuse me–” he said, trying to squish between a man carrying like ten shopping bags on his arms and a teen’s huge backpack to reach the pedestrian crossing. Sighing deeply, he waited for the traffic light to switch from green to red. Vehicles zoomed through the streets, the roar of the engines functioning as white noise for his fatigued mind. Maybe he should ask for vacations day after this project, he had accumulated quite a bunch of those during his years in the company.

When the lights changed colors the people around him started crossing the street, Phainon trying to pass the slower walkers, mumbling apologies every time he accidentally shoulder checked past someone.

Just as he was about to reach the other side, he heard a loud honk and the sound of car wheels speeding on the asphalt and the angered voice of a man shouting intelligible words in a slurry, wobbly voice.

“Get out the street!” someone yelled some meters away, partly drowned by the startled screams from people on the sidewalks as the car drove in jerky zigzags, breaking the wing window of a parked car and scrapping the side of another.

“Is he drunk?!” he heard someone close to him yell as they all ran from the middle of the crosswalk. “Or fucking crazy! It looks like road rage,” answered another. Phainon could only feel a sense of dread on his lower stomach as he saw the driver angle the car towards the corner of the block where they all were. “Fuck, run!”

He went along with the crowd to put distance between him and the driver, already thinking of taking refuge inside a nearby store or something — when he heard the car speed up and loud frantic screams behind him. Looking back purely by instinct, Phainon saw a little boy in high school uniform, perhaps no older than twelve years, tugging the wrist of another little girl. The people around them ran with barely a glance towards the kids, so Phainon quickly understood they were by themselves.

How could anyone leave them alone like this? And the driver, throwing insults and yells at every direction, was obviously not in the right mind space to care about anything. Before he could waste more time thinking, Phainon turned around to run in long strides towards the kids.

“Quick! Come here!” he said as he grabbed them by the arms, pulling the scared and crying children towards the crowd. With a relieved sigh of seeing the kids away from the direct danger, Phainon only managed to take a step before–

Before he felt the headlights burn his eyes, and his head cracking loudly on the asphalt.

“Oh my god!” “Someone call an ambulance!” “The car’s going away! Quick, take the license plate!”

Being hit by a car is far more painful than movies made it seem, he thought as his blurry vision could barely see anything through his eyelashes besides the streetlights and the shadowy figures moving around him. He could faintly taste copper on his mouth, his heartbeat echoed in his ears like heavy, slow-paced drums, and there was a warm liquid sliding down his temples. At least those kids are fine, he reassured himself with that last thought.

Then, with the faint, far away sounds of the police sirens and strangers talking around him, his mind slipped away and everything went black.

When he opened his eyes again, the thundering pain he was expecting on his head… simply wasn’t there. His head didn’t hurt as much as he would’ve expected it to, and he was pretty sure there had been no way he hadn’t cracked his head open — the disgusting, wet sound of his skull against the road was pretty much still engraved in his memory. Just what kind of sedatives was he on to not feel the pain? Oh, but the body ache definitively was there, his limbs were heavy and sore, like a car just– well. Yeah.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice raspy and dry. He tried to blink the white dots away, blurriness slowly fading to give place to—

To a place that definitively wasn’t a hospital.

Maybe I’m dreaming, I hit my head after all, he thought with a grimace. He squinted as the golden light pouring from the window bathed the bedroom with a soft hue. By the looks of it, it was morning. Something about it felt… Strangely comforting, like a sight he had seen countless times.

A flash of a memory went through his eyes, making him groan at the sudden pain on his head. “What the–” he mumbled before almost tangible scenarios started appearing in his mind’s eye.

It was like watching a movie. Except he could smell and taste and feel everything.

Visions appeared on his eyes, as fast as a fleeting thought, were he saw himself in situations he was sure never happened, yet they sat on him like remembrances of a life he couldn’t quite grasp. A warm village, sun-kissed wheat fields, a vast lake where the echoing laughs of kids filled his heart with nostalgia. A wooden sword on his hands that morphed into a real one in a blink, a training ground, a man yelling orders and that particular sentiment of determination and dedication that Phainon couldn’t pinpoint when was the last time he genuinely felt.

Then one particular scene hit him square in the chest. It replayed in slow motion and clear as the day with bright colors, every sense enhanced to the point Phainon thought he actually was there.

A huge room with an impressively high ceiling, the windows bathing the room in golden hues, immaculately dressed soldiers kneeling in a line behind him, and a gold and red throne in front of him. A blond, old man with a heavy crown and fierce, aged eyes sitting on the throne and looking at him with something akin of pride. And then–

Mydeimos.

Phainon held his breath. He was sure he also did it in the memory. The prince approached him with his hands holding a greatsword with midnight colors and sun rays shaped guard.

He could barely hear anything the prince was saying, though his voice was crystal clear in the memory. He could only stare at the fondness in Mydei’s smile, the pride curving those feline eyes into happy crescents, the faint and badly-veiled pomegranate and jasmine scent of the content alpha, and the challenging glint in his gaze.

“—Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, rise up and, if you accept this brand, you now will be my sword, my shield, and Castrum Kremnos’ sharpest blade.”

As he –memory him– rose up and accepted the weapon with his head held hight, their hands touched for only a miserable second. But that was enough to make both of them lock eyes and for Mydei’s smile to glow brighter.

“And now I, Prince Mydeimos of Castrum Kremnos, take you, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, as my one and only knight, and honor you with the title of Commander of the 3rd Kremnoan Legion. You may rise.”

Mydei got closer, even closer, and his hand reached up to Phainon’s face, the soft pads of the prince’s fingers almost, almost touching his face—

The memory faded before Phainon could will it to stay.

He quickly got up the bed despite his body protests to stay in bed. Stumbling around, Phainon frantically looked around until he saw a mirror on top of the dark wood desk near the closet. He took long strides to reach it, shaking hands grabbing the mirror’s frame and holding it up.

He almost let the glass fall.

It was him, it was his own appearance for the most part, the same white hair and blue eyes… if it wasn’t because his eyes now had a strange pattern, just like the golden spikes the greatsword he saw in his memories had. His hair was noticeable longer, the longer Phainon ever was allowed to use at school or at work, bangs almost covering his eyes and strands framing his face. And, perhaps even as weird as his eyes, he too had a sun tattoo on the left side of his neck that seemed to shine like a lava lamp.

“This has to be a dream,” the words came out of his mouth, but his brain was already connecting the dots despite being shell-shocked, working miles a minute. “I can’t be–”

Being dead was expected, honestly. Even if he had went to the hospital, Phainon was pretty sure his head had suffered irreparable damage and he had ended up bleeding out on the street. What wasn’t expected was… being alive. Sort of? Phainon left the mirror on the desk with still shaking hands, then went towards the window, pulling the white curtains aside.

“Maybe this is heaven,” Phainon mumbled, covering his mouth. The view from his window was simply breathtaking.

But did heaven look like a kingdom pulled straight from a fantasy book?

He could see an extensive garden right below his window, tall marble towers with a glittering azure mist coming from strange domes, the characteristic sounds of furnaces at work, people wearing armor or more simple, fantasy-like servant clothes walking around, and the sight of the big walls surrounding the place where he was at, though Phainon could peek the city beyond those fortifications from how high his bedroom was.

The place where he was at… Phainon was in some sort of palace right now?

He shook his head, trying to organize his thoughts. Those memories… Mydeimos was in there, though he looked clearly younger and less reserved than what the novel artist had drawn him like. Wouldn’t that mean he, somehow, got inside the very novel he loved with all his soul?

His memories… He felt so overwhelmed he had to let out a shaky exhale. Was there even a character like him? Had he truly became a character that was his beloved’s knight–?

A knock on his door startled him, quickly covering his mouth to avoid the embarrassing sound he would’ve let out.

“Phainon?”

He quickly scrambled to fix his clothes and hair. Phainon didn’t recognize that voice, but this body did, and the warmth on his chest and the rapid beat of his heart, the same one that he felt when he looked at that particular memory, already told him who was behind that door.

“Coming!”

As soon as he opened the clearly heavy door —like it was nothing, something that would’ve inconvenience him before— he found himself head-first with the very same man who occupied his thoughts for years to no end.

“Good morning, Mydei!”

The words came out like an already known tune. A practiced symphony engraved in his very core.

Wasn’t it disrespectful to talk so amicable with a man of such standing like the crown prince, though? Phainon would almost felt a bit ashamed by his own actions if it wasn’t because, instead of reprimanding him for his behavior, the blond man only pursed his lips and throw him an almost offended glare.

“Good morning, indeed,” the prince crossed his arms over his– okay.

Okay.

Petite Parabole’s protagonist had made special emphasis on Mydei’s more than generous assets. More than once. Probably twice or thrice every chapter, so much many readers had joked about the author’s thinly veiled kinks; the cover artist also didn’t help as they drew Mydeimos like a walking wet dream in every single one of the official arts. Some people were even complaining such a body couldn’t be even real.

But oh lord, the creators weren’t exaggerating at all.

He felt his cheeks warming up as he forcibly peeled his eyes off Mydei’s bountiful, meaty, gorgeous chest straining the simple linen shirt the prince was using. The open linen, white shirt that strained tightly around the prince’s chest, and that Phainon swore was almost see-through. He just couldn’t take his eyes off it. Would Phainon be thrown to the dungeons for this indecency?

… Did Mydei always dress up with so little? All the official arts had him covered from head to toe in black suits and flowy capes and probably three layers of fabric.

… Oh god, he swore he could see those brownish red nipples through the straining shirt—

“–believe you even missed our morning spar. Seriously, you could’ve told me the last mission took a toll in your body. I had to find out, thanks to Miss Hyacine, that you practically dragged yourself to the infirmary.”

The smell of an upset alpha wasn’t as irritable as the novel made it sound like. Mydei smelled like burnt honey and lemon. Was Phainon crazy? Perhaps, because he was sure the smell wouldn’t really be pleasant for anyone else, but for him? He almost felt giddy. But with the way Mydei was looking at him, his lips almost pursed and feline eyes throwing daggers at him, Phainon figured he couldn’t act too smug less he further upset the alpha.

“Ah… hah. Sorry about that, Mydei.”

The crown prince stared him down before sighing, a more worried expression taking place after the scolding was over. Mydei reached out to him, the prince’s hand —soft; so extremely soft for a warrior prince– cupped his face and examined him with narrowed eyes, turning his head side to side while squishing his cheeks.

“Seriously,” the prince mumbled. “You look like a dragon sat on top of you. Was the reconnaissance mission really that bad? I could’ve come with you, the group wasn’t mean to engage in combat anyway.”

“It’s…” how could he tell the prince the mission wasn’t why he looked so beat up? Scratch that, how could he tell Mydei his precious knight wasn’t himself anymore, but someone else? Mydei would think Phainon went crazy, or worse, attempt to kill him if he knew someone had possessed his knight. Just by the memories alone, and even to someone like him who barely had any meaningful or lasting relationship in his life, could tell that the men shared a bond that ran deeper than mere friends.

Talking about that…

Now that the initial shock had turned into background noise in his brain, Phainon actually took a second to think clearly. A character like his didn’t exist. The character Phainon of Aedes Elysiae wasn’t mentioned in the novel at all. Zero. Nada. He would’ve remembered if a character from his favorite novel shared a name with him; it wasn’t like his name was all that common, not even for a fantasy setting.

And a character that meant so much for the male lead would surely be at least mentioned once or twice.

Unless…

“Sir Khaslana–! Oh, Your Highness! I’m so sorry for interrupting, but Miss Hyacine needs to examine Sir Khaslana before he starts throwing that greatsword around.”

The voice of another man, this time a lean warrior with light pink hair and blue eyes, interrupted Phainon’s musings only to make him almost lose his mind.

Wait a second.

Wait a damn second!

Did he just say Khaslana?!

Khaslana, as in the crown prince’s most trusted ally, the only man in all Amphoreus who managed to last ten days and ten nights fighting with the Kremnoan heir, and the only knight who Mydeimos, an immortal warrior who frowned at the mere notion of a bodyguard hovering around him, allowed to have as his every day companion?!

The same Khaslana who was mentioned only once in two hundred chapters when Mydeimos confided on Caelus about how he only went to the battlefield alone because his whole battalion that included his strongest knight, his best friend, Khaslana, had perished in battle?!

It had been sad, of course. Castrum Kremnos had never lost a battle with so many deaths before — a spy had squirmed his way into the royal troops and they had been ambushed by the black tide’s corrupted army without a chance to counterattack due to misleading intel, Khaslana hadn’t awakened his magical core, and Mydeimos awakened his in that same battle after being one of the few survivors out of pure grief. But the sole mention of Khaslana had thrown the comment section in disarray, as the author had portrayed Mydei in such a longing, yearning way he almost sounded like a spouse whose husband had perished at war.

Even Phainon had cursed this knight out for holding his beloved Mydeimos’ heart then having the guts to go and die, leaving Mydei scarred and —apparently— heartbroken.

As the main love interest, it made people believe Mydei already had a beloved. People had even expressed more anger at a dead man that the other character Mydei had been teased with, which was…

The same man who was standing a few steps away from him right now.

“Hephaestion,” Mydei nodded in greeting, a small smile hinting at the corners of his mouth. “Good morning.”

Hephaestion. One of the few alpha warriors who had survived the bloody battlefield and whose sole role was to make Caelus feel insecure about Mydei’s feelings. Great, absolutely great. Phainon had also wanted to strangle this Hephaestion guy. Phainon was sure Hephaestion felt love towards the prince, for why else would the warrior interrupt every single romantic scene between the main couple?!

“Good morning,” he replied, out of habit more than anything. He could feel the telltale signs of jealousy churning on his stomach. Weirdly enough, this body was probably attuned to him already, because the jealousy he was experiencing right now seemed as old as time, like wine already turned vinegar yet left to further ferment inside of him.

Mydei shifted, the natural movement making him grow a millimeter closer to the pink-haired alpha. Phainon’s hands twitched minutely.

“I will take Phainon to the medical wing myself, less this man attempts to run from the check up, again.”

“That was only one time, Your Highness,” he quickly said, tutting at the crown prince. Once again, memories seemed to slip into the crevices of his brain to show him a story he was starring in yet he never got to experience by himself. “And must I remind you it was because you called for me as soon as I arrived?”

“Because the intel was crucial for the next battle,” Mydei fired back as fast as he did. “I wasn’t expecting you to come running to my studio without even washing the blood off your face.”

“Ah, but how sweetly you did that for me–”

Hold up. Pause. Rewind.

What?

Mydei only grumbled and turned his head to the other side, choosing instead to start talking about training and weapon maintenance day with Hephaestion, though the faint pink blush on his cheeks was undeniable.

While Phainon was hit with a new wave of memories.

The flashbacks almost made him feel dizzy. A dark studio, maps spread out atop the desk, a dim sphere of magic being the only source of light inside the room. Mydeimos making Phainon sit on the chair he was previously using, rubbing his blood stained cheeks with a blue handkerchief that smelled of him, pomegranates, honey and jasmine. Movements soft and intimate, their faces so close to each other their breaths mingled.

And the room smelled like them.

Mydei’s scent, so sweet it made Khaslana’s gums ache and salivate, and Khaslana’s own burnt firewood and smokey scent. Both pheromones entangled in a dance to either overpower the other or mix into one.

To his dissatisfaction —Khaslana’s dissatisfaction, apparently—, nothing had happened besides that, but Khaslana had pocketed the bloodstained dirty cloth and Mydei had spent the rest of the debrief resting his back against the opened window, gaze softened and evading looking at Khaslana’s eyes with an expression that was almost shyly as their combined smells slowly faded with the fresh breeze.

Again, what?

So were those people right? Was there something between the knight and the prince? Phainon really needed to go through Khaslana’s memories after this!

His beloved already had a beloved!

…

He was his beloved’s beloved!

Phainon was about to start tweaking until the pink-haired alpha addressed him again.

“It would be in your best interest to go with Miss Hyacine before she comes out and drags you herself, Sir Khaslana,” Hephaestion said, looking between him and the prince with something like mischief, or a knowing look that Phainon definitively didn’t know what it meant, but why was he looking at Mydei so much? Was it even allowed? Was Phainon not the only one allowed to act so friendly with the alpha prince? “Your Highness, I will make sure that the soldiers clean the weaponry right, so… Please, do take your time.”

“Huh… Right! We will be in our way, then!” he said with a faux-cheerful tone. He didn’t know what was all that looking and glancing about and it definitively annoyed him just a tiny bit, but if that meant time alone with his beloved prince, then it was well welcomed.

Mydei huffed and started walking, mumbling something under his breath that he couldn’t catch, but Hephaestion did, and the soldier only smiled at them both and patted Mydei’s shoulder before going back from where he arrived. Phainon fought the sudden urge to bite that hand off.

Mydei turned around and started walking. Without a word, without a sign either, Phainon easily followed him closely, walking side by side with the alpha prince.

This is surely against etiquette, Phainon mused. Weren’t knights and, well, everyone else mandated to walk at least some steps behind royals? Phainon bit his lips before slowing his pace enough to make a small distance of three steps between him and the blond. That was okay, right? He shouldn’t be disrespecting his beloved’s position so openly, right?

Not even a two seconds passed for the crown prince to look over his shoulder with a frown. “What are you stalling for, Phainon?” he asked, clicking this tone. There was no huff on his tone, or annoyance. The way those golden eyes looked at him was with thinly veiled worry.

So Khaslana and Mydei walked side by side, huh?

Phainon quickly shortened the distance again and chuckled. “Nothing, nothing! Just… lost in my thoughts. I was thinking if Miss Hyacine would allow me to train today.”

“Surely not.”

“But our morning spar…”

“It’s already mid morning anyway, the training grounds are occupied and we wouldn’t want to interrupt the others’ regimen.”

Phainon was a tad bit disappointed at it. Not only because apparently his body craved the physical exercise like it was the first coffee of the day, but because it meant he wouldn’t be able to see that gorgeous body all sweated up and Mydei’s big chest going up and down with heavy breaths, his mouth slightly parted as he gasped for air and eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

That was what Mydei looked in his memories, but those were Khaslana’s memories, Phainon wanted to see for himself!

“But we can have breakfast together at least.”

“Your Highness, did you skip breakfast because of me?”

Mydei, this time, did scoff at that. “As if. I was too busy reading the reports from Okhema to remind myself of the meals.”

“Well that’s something new. You never skip meals. Were the reports too worrying? Do you need me to–?”

The prince threw a sharp glare at him, placing both hands on his hips. Oh, Phainon was about to get scolded for looking where he shouldn’t. “You won’t be doing any sort of work until Miss Hyacine says you can. I have no need for a moribund soldier who doesn’t know his limits. I can tell your core is depleted of energy.”

He deflated a bit more at that. “I can assure you my core is fine, and I know my limits!” it’s just that the person you are talking to isn’t who you think it is, Mydei. I want to experience everything you did with Khaslana... “I meant to say, if you needed help organizing the information! Lady Goldweaver’s documents are extensively detailed. That’s what got you busy for so long, right?”

He didn’t know, but his memories did. Khaslana had studied for some years under the Okheman noble and her allies before he pursued his own path as a warrior instead of a scholar and traveled all the way to Castrum Kremnos.

Mydei remained silent for a second before nodding. “Right. You might, if there are no signs you will keel over and die anytime soon.”

“I promise I won’t! My injuries aren’t that bad. Miss Hyacine will let me go sooner than you think!”

“Oh, do you bet?” the alpha’s lips curled into a lazy smirk.

“I do!”

Bickering with Mydei was so fun, his heart was all giddy and warm at the quick responses they threw at each other. Why did nobody tell him connecting with someone was this fun? Then again, he was never drawn to someone else like this before. Right now, he was so glad he died, or he wouldn’t be able to enjoy moments like these.

The crown prince threw him a look before shrugging and smiling oh so sweetly. He looked like a smug cat.

Oh. Curse the protagonist again. Why was he allowed to bathe in Mydei’s presence? No one should be allowed to see the way the prince’s eyes glinted or the easy way his lips curled into a bright smile or an adorable scowl.

“Hm. We shall see.”

“You absolutely can’t train,” Hyacine said with a severe tone. “Sir Khaslana, no detours to the training grounds for at least four days.”

Mydei covered his mouth, and he didn’t know if the prince was holding back a laugh or was completely stunned by how injured Phainon’s body was. Probably both, by the way his scent had soured a tiny bit at seeing Phainon’s half-naked body.

As soon as they got inside the medical wing they were escorted by Hyacine’s adorable and definitively a bit round pegasus towards the alpha doctor’s office. Not even a greeting to him was made —but one was directed at Mydei, so Phainon always the empath, already sensed Hyacine was upset at him— before he was instructed to sit his ass down on the chair and to take his shirt and trousers off.

The state of Khaslana’s body was… well. Hyacine had closed her eyes and loudly prayed at Cerces for reason to not abandon her. Then, she threw a quick prayer to, in her own words, “any Titan available” for patience.

His body was mottled with dark purple bruises that almost bordered in black, and a quick scan made by Hyacine’s healing abilities said his organs were, hmm, not working like they usually would.

If something the author had added to this fantasy world was something that countered the black tide’s destructive power, and that was the awakening of the magical core everyone was born with, which could only be possible after the person surpassed the bottleneck that was the natural limit of their magic. Some people awakened it early; like Hyacine did, who spent her teenage years studying at the Grove to perfect her healing magic, establishing herself as one of the youngest students to awaken her core. Some others were late bloomers, like Khaslana, who could’ve awakened if it wasn’t for his early death. And others only awakened under immeasurable pressure or while feeling overwhelming, almost soul-shattering emotions, such as Mydeimos and his grief.

But even without being awakened, people could train their cores to enhance their bodies and fight against the black tide, though most people decided to live their normal lives since training an unawakened core meant going through a rough journey and pushing their bodies and minds to the breaking point.

Khaslana was one of them; the man had trained since he was a kid and dreamed of being a hero, which made him a formidable warrior even without the advantage of an awakened core.

“Four days?!” he groaned. “I can’t stay in bed for four days, Miss Hyacine!”

“Not necessarily in bed,” the doctor didn’t roll her eyes, but the way she looked at him was even worse. “Just don’t push your body for now, you don’t have to bedridden for that, as I know you won’t be able to properly rest even if I order you to. Still, you have to let your core rest for a bit, and the wounds will soon go away,” she passed him a small bottle of golden liquid. “Here, take a sip of this when you wake up and before going to bed. It’s an enhancer.”

“Enhancer?” Mydei echoed back, crossing his arms over his chest with a frown and a glare piercing Phainon’s skull that made him almost whimper and deflate. “So he did drain his core. I knew it, yet this man would remain as stubborn as a bull.”

“Not intentionally,” he mumbled as he took the vial. The golden liquid seemed to glitter under the light. “Miss Hyacine, please tell His Highness to stop fussing over me like a mother hen.”

“Your Highness, please keep going on. Sir Khaslana here only listens to you,” she copied the prince’s posture, crossing her arms and glaring at Phainon. “He won’t allow himself to cure unless you watch over him.”

“You do not need to worry, Miss Hyacine,” Mydei’s hand rested atop Phainon’s head, fingers threading through snow white hair. “Keeping this puppy in check is part of my royal duties.”

“Puppy–” he choked on the word, cheeks blushing but feeling weirdly pleased at the same time. “Am I a stray you picked up from the streets?”

“You sometimes do act like one. An unruly dog,” the prince patted his head once, then twice. Maybe he was deluding himself, but he could feel the prince’s blunt nails slightly scratching his scalp for barely a second. If he truly were a dog, he would be wagging his tail.

“Ahem,” Miss Hyacine faked a cough. “Please do not flirt in the clinic.”

“We are not flirting,” came the automatic response from both men.

Mydei’s hand was still on Phainon’s head.

“Sure,” the doctor didn’t look impressed at all. She looked like she wanted to kick them out of her clinic, propriety be damned. “Anyway. Sir Khaslana, please come by if you feel anything amiss. Anything at all. And that includes soreness, numbness, heavy limbs, unusual tiredness, any type of ache–”

“I understand, Miss Hyacine… I’m not a kid…”

“No, but you sure are a reckless man,” the doctor grumbled before giving a small sweet bun to him, then another to Mydei. “Castorice’s. Grab some before Little Ica finishes the basket.”

“Please give Lady Castorice our gratitude,” Mydei accepted the treat with a nod.

Castorice… She was mentioned quite a few times in the novel. Mydei’s closest ally, the alpha princess of a kingdom that hold their stand against the black tide thanks to the legendary dragon the princess had tamed.

He didn’t know these three were that close. Just how little did he know about the Mydeimos from the novel? That was starting to annoy him.

“You look like you are thinking hard about something,” Mydei’s voice said, taking him out of his thoughts. “Dress up, let’s get going.”

“Oh, right–” he quickly put his clothes back on while Mydei pointedly… kept looking at him. That made his neck blush a bit and his scent flare for a second, but he said nothing about it. Mydei was his beloved prince, he could see as much as he desired. “Done! Let’s get your breakfast, Your Highness.”

“Let’s get your lunch, titans know you will soon get as cranky as an old man if you don’t feed the void you have for a stomach. And it’s almost midday already.”

Phainon could only laugh at that as he started to follow the prince out of the medical wing. Before he could close the door behind him, though, Hyacine spoke up.

“Oh, Sir Khaslana?”

He turned to look at the pink haired doctor. “Hm? What is it?”

“… As I was inspecting you, I noticed something was…” the woman hesitated before speaking again. “Your core seems to be acting a bit weird. If the influx of energy is to be believed, I would say your awakening is soon to take place. If it happens, you will start feeling the common symptoms. Please be aware of them.”

The symptoms? Phainon wasn’t sure what those symptoms were. Probably something the author hadn’t bothered to explain, as every important character of the novel already had their cores awakened, even the protagonist.

But he only nodded with an easy smile. Whatever it was, he could read about it later in some biology book, right? Now there were more pressing matters, such as enjoying time alone with his prince.

“Sure! See you later, Miss Hyacine!”

Hyacine watched the door after Phainon and Mydei went away, wearing a worried expression. Her pegasus companion chirped and butted its head against her cheek.

“I’m okay, Little Ica,” Hyacine sighed. “It’s just that… I wonder if Sir Khaslana is going to be okay. Awakening one’s core… can be a bit of a hellish ride, especially if one awakened during adulthood.”

Little Ica chirped again and tilted its head. The doctor softly scratched the pegasus’ chin. “Hehe, it’s okay. Probably nothing wrong is going to happen. Sir Khaslana is a very level headed man, even if stubborn and reckless…”

But even if she tried to reassure herself, there was a lingering doubt at the back of her mind. Sir Khaslana had harbored feelings for the Kremnoan prince since their young days, and for the sights of it, none of the men had resolved the tension that permanently floats around them.

Awakening the core can mess up with one’s emotions, Hyacine thought as she rearranged her tools. It enhances what we feel, numbing our reasoning and making instincts surge forward…

She sighed. There’s no reason to think about this. Sir Khaslana and His Highness have each others’ back. There’s no way something wrong could happen, she reassured herself. I’m sure his Highness will be able to keep Sir Khaslana in check and avoid him from going crazy.

The awakening was rough for everyone. But some alphas and omegas had a common yet dangerous symptom: the possibility of entering a sudden rut or heat. “… Hm. But even if they were often thrown into a frenzy, the cases were well studied,” she mumbled. “And I have everything prepared if anything goes wrong.”

Little Ica chirped again, flying around the alpha. “Hm?” Hyacine turned towards the pegasus, who chirped again in a confused tone. “Oh, are you talking about Lady Goldweavers’ awakening?” Hyacine smiled softly and held the pegasus in her arms. “She was an special case, or so I heard. As an enigma, her awakening made her go into isolation for weeks since it was far stronger than an alpha’s or an omega’s. I heard she had it rough, without a mate making her company during her frenzied rut.”

The pegasus chirped again. “Oh? Don’t worry, even if Sir Khaslana is the strongest warrior in our times, he’s an alpha, not an enigma! We would’ve known, there is no way an enigma can go unnoticed,” Hyacine chuckled softly. “Does Sir Khaslana also makes you worry, Little Ica?” the pegasus’ wings fluttered as the familiar chirped a bit sadly. “Yeah, his energy had been haywire for a while… That’s why we must start checking on him every day, even if he doesn’t want to! Titans forbid that man stresses himself into an early death!”

A knock on the door called for her attention. “Huuh… Miss Hyacine? Mh. I think there’s something wrong with my arm… The bone’s peeking out–”

“Oh my Aquila!” Hyacine and Little Ica rushed towards the door. “Please come in! No, wait, please let’s go to the emergency room!”

“We should go take a bath,” Mydei suddenly said. They were eating in Mydei’s privy chamber, the prince having decided to not make the servants arrange the dining room just for both of them, and instead requesting a maid to bring their meals to his quarters.

“A bath?” he echoed, then subtly smelled himself. It was true that he didn’t take a bath before going out, but Mydei had arrived just as he was waking up. Did he smell bad? By the unimpressed look Mydei was giving him, it wasn’t that.

“Yes. Not one of those bubbly baths you love to drag me to,” he almost choked on his food. Khaslana did what– “I’m talking about a cleansing bath, with Phagousa’s blessed waters. You have been near the black tide for almost a month.”

“That’s true,” he said, grabbing a napkin to hide the twitching corners of his mouth. Khaslana, you pervert. Now that was something else that Phainon needed to look in his memories; and excuse him, but he was going to take full advantage of this private cinema of his. “There’s the possibility of my core to be heavy with the taint of the tide.”

Mydei nodded. “I can push my duties for a couple of hours.”

Oh. So Mydei wasn’t truly against the baths even if his earlier tone seemed to imply otherwise. What a cute prince he had. “That would be great! The sooner we go, the sooner I will get better.”

“Then it’s settled. Finish your food so we can go.”

It hadn’t escaped his eyes that most of the food on the table were meant to be his; roasted chicken, bowls full of different types of salads, grilled fish, smoked meat, seafood stew…

Mydei himself, for what he knew, was a man who took great care of his body and especially the food, so he wasn’t someone who would eat like a birdie. Yet now, most of the plates had been prepared according not for the prince’s palate, but to Khaslana’s preferences, that luckily weren’t that far off Phainon’s.

He would eat everything Mydei gave him, though. Even if it was charred, or even if it was poison. He was sure he would gladly finish it off.

Things like this made him realize just how much Mydei cared for Khaslana. While the jealousy of the actions not being directed at him, Phainon was now Khaslana. This body was his now, wasn’t it? No matter if he now had the knights’ memories, those weren’t situations he had experienced for himself. It felt like someone had plugged a memory drive in his head and unloaded Khaslana’s memories in his own brain.

They were there. Phainon could recall them as clear as the day if he wanted to.

But they weren’t his.

And that upset him more than he thought it would.

He felt a bit ungrateful. He had a second chance to live, and he could live in the same world his beloved prince resided, yet he had usurped someone else’s life. The role he had now had been someone’s elses. His place in Mydei’s life and heart had belonged to someone else.

Phainon felt the urge to smash his head against the wall or carve his chest open to allow himself to breath, the thoughts were asphyxiating him.

“Phainon?” Mydei’s voice called him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He had worried his prince again. He could see the faint frown between the alpha’s eyebrows.

“Do you feel sick? Speak up if something is wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Phainon replied, smiling softly if not a bit strained. “I was just wondering if…” his eyes flickered to the side, trying to come up with an excuse. Because how could he even begin to explain the jealousy he felt towards himself? “… If I had my core awakened, maybe I would be of greater help to you, Mydei.”

“Nonsense,” Mydei crossed his arms and scoffed, cocking his head slightly to the side, like he was trying to figure out why would Phainon say something like that. “Even without an awakened core, you are the most exceptional man I’ve ever battled with and against. Must I remind you that not anyone can withstand more than five rounds against me, yet you surpassed that amount?”

Phainon chuckled softly, feeling a bit giddy at how Mydei was looking at him. Even if the alpha was putting up an annoyed front, it was clear how he tried to make Phainon feel better.

“It was an impressive fight, where we pushed ourselves to the limit. Even if we were younger and more inexperienced that now, we gave a good show.”

Talking about the ten days and nights fight, Phainon rested his elbow on the table as he hummed pensively. “Her Majesty cheered for both of us happily, didn’t she? But His Majesty didn’t look very happy that day.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Mydei almost rolled his eyes. That comment made Phainon blink. What did he mean by that? Didn’t King Eurypon took pride in the strong warriors from afar that wanted to join the Kremnoan army? Yet as far as he could remember, the king hadn’t been exactly warm towards him except for the time where he had been knighted as Mydei’s personal guard.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked. “I thought your father was impressed by my strength.”

“He was.”

“… Then?”

Mydei curled a strand of golden dipped in blood red in her index finger, a lazy movement that Phainon couldn’t take his eyes off. “He wasn’t impressed at how you barged into the festival and immediately challenged me to a fight. In front of the whole stadium.”

Khaslana was well read in Kremnoan traditions, so he made sure to follow the protocol when he challenged Mydei — he introduced himself, expressed his desire to clash weapons with the prince, and even requested Gorgo’s and Eurypon’s permission.

Gorgo had looked at him up and down before nodding in agreement, while Eurypon had dismissively waved a hand to go on, probably believing Khaslana wouldn’t stand his ground against his son, just like all the previous contestants before Khaslana’s turn. Khaslana had watched the first fights from the sidelines, and hastily decided to join when he realized it was Mydeimos, the crown prince himself, who was allowing warriors to test their strength against him.

Did Khaslana accidentally offend Eurypon, somehow?

At Phainon’s confused expression, Mydei only chuckled and shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about it, my father will come around eventually. You don’t need to prove anything else to him, as I already consider you someone worthy to stand by my side.”

Oh.

That sounded…

Phainon closed his eyes for a second.

His beloved was so innocent, but if he kept saying such cute things like that, Phainon would end up deluding himself further than he already was.

He wondered. If Mydei and him were to participate in the next Kremnoan festival, would Phainon be able to restraint himself from not pinning Mydei in front of all of Kremnos? Khaslana’s feelings had sparked since their first clash, and had only grown since then. Combined with how much Phainon was obsessed with the prince… Would he remain sane?

Mydei hadn’t participated in any other Kremnoan festival since that time, though. A bit weird considering how Mydei enjoyed to test his soldiers’ training, but that worked just fine for Phainon. It was unlikely, but what if someone as strong as them came out of nowhere and tried to steal Mydei away from him?

But that was stupid, there was no one who could do that.

Except–

Phainon’s breath silently caught.

The protagonist.

He started to feel that oppressive weight again.

Just how much time he had before the protagonist arrived at Castrum Kremnos? Just how much time he had before his fated death?

Just how much time he had before he lost Mydei?

“… Hey, Mydei?”

“Hm?”

Phainon blinked, the ugly curl in his lower stomach making him feel sick. “I know we are in our leisure time, but I suddenly remembered. What were Lady Aglaea’s reports about?”

As a Dux under the Imperator’s command, Lady Goldweaver wouldn’t report to Mydei, a royal from another kingdom. There had to be a reason for Aglaea’s missive.

Mydei frowned. “The reports? They were about the black tide, as always.”

“What did she say?” Phainon asked, grabbing a grape from a nearby plate and rolling it between his fingers. Anything to keep his hands occupied.

“Unfortunately, the black tide had swallowed the city-state of Aurelia. Such a terrible outcome, yet there was nothing we could’ve done, as the black tide suddenly surged near the shores, and neither our troops or the Imperator’s sword would’ve arrived in time. But in the bright side, the Holy Maiden received a prophecy, that said the situation would improve in the following months due to an unforeseeable yet peaceful force that will aid us,” Mydei recited, almost from memory, before sighing deeply. “This unknown force… Even if the Holy Maiden say it’s something we can trust, I can’t help but have my doubts.”

Phainon felt like he was going to throw up. He genuinely felt sick in the stomach.

The protagonist –Caelus– might be nearer than he thought?!

“… Phainon, you look unwell,” Mydei said, voice low. “I understand you are worried, but you must rest before you think about going back to work.”

No, Mydei, he wasn’t worried about that!

Fuck the black tide, the protagonist was a bigger threat! To Phainon’s sanity! To his future with Mydei!

“I’m okay, Mydei. Truly. I’m just a little worried… Did Lady Goldweaver say anything else?”

Mydei looked at him for a second before humming. “There had been… talks.”

“Talks?” Phainon echoed. “What kind of talks?”

The prince looked uncomfortable, like he was deciding if it was a bad idea to speak up, but he already did, and Phainon wouldn’t let him go without finishing what he started, so Mydei sighed deeply.

“As I remain an unmated alpha,” he slowly said, like the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. “The Kremnoan’s council of elders and the Okhema’s own council had been… sticking their noses in territory that they shouldn’t.”

Phainon was really going to throw up. He could already see where this conversation was going to. Jus how many bad news was he going to receive his first day in this world?!

“Of course, my parents’ are against any follow up of this nonsensical, fake worry, but the councils had been been oddly insisting, claiming our forces are not enough to go against the black tide by ourselves, and that we need a strong alliance with Okhema. My father thinks its because the growing black tide is making the elders’ forget their stations.”

At least Gorgo and Eurypon were against it, titans bless them.

“I see…”

But even then, Phainon was taken back. In the novel, Mydei didn’t have any fiancé or anyone who he fancied before the protagonist’s arrival. Every threat Caelus faced had been possible suitors or secondary love interests that lasted a few chapters before Mydei kicked them out himself.

Talks about marriage? How come?

“… You don’t have to worry,” Mydei suddenly said. “Even if they somehow push through this, my parents’ will choose someone to pose as my betrothed, but they would never force my hand into an unwanted marriage.”

A fake betrothed is still a betrothed, Phainon sourly thought, but otherwise nodded. “I understand.”

He must’ve been wearing a horrible expression, because Mydei reached out to him, and cupped Phainon’s cheek. “As I say, please do not worry,” the prince said. “Once I awaken my core, my place as the king’s heir won’t be doubted anymore. Mated or not, it won’t matter.”

Why hadn’t Khaslana claimed Mydei already? Phainon wanted to strangle himself. Even if he knew the answer.

While Kremnoans valued their prowess in battle, the nobles worked… differently. Especially the elders from the council, old commanders and generals who grew complacent out of the battlefield and weighted their value in status rather than strength.

Khaslana was the strongest warrior of the Kremnoan’s army, but outside that? He was just an unawakened alpha from an unknown, unheard-of small village in the Imperator’s territory. He had no title for himself other than being Mydei’s personal knight.

Phainon, even in his obsession, understood that Khaslana had restrained himself from his desires for the sake of Mydei’s stand in the royal lineage.

Because even being the King’s only son, if anyone challenged Eurypon and won or even gained a draw, they would also be considered a possible heir to the throne.

Fictional politics are a mess, Phainon thought, grimacing. Making everything so complicated, and for what? Caelus never had to fight against Eurypon anyway, and Mydei had rejected any suitor that wasn’t the omega protagonist. Talk about plot armor.

“I’m not worried,” Phainon said, nuzzling against Mydei’s hand. It was as much contact as he could allow himself for now. “I know you won’t allow anyone to chain you down against your will.”

“Good,” Mydei nodded. “Let us stop talking about this for now. You have to finish eating, then we are going to the cleansing baths.”

“Now, that’s a plan I’m very much on board for,” Phainon chuckled, his lips grazing the scent gland in Mydei’s wrist before let go of it. If he had it so close to his mouth, Phainon wasn’t sure he would be able to stop himself from start biting it to impregnate his scent in Mydei’s skin.

The alpha prince had his cheeks slightly blushed, likely thinking the same as Phainon. “Then finish your food and stop stalling.”

“As you wish, your Highness!”

Yes, there was nothing to worry about. Phainon knew this novel up and down and could practically recite it in his sleep. And with Khaslana’s memories, there was nothing to be afraid of.

Even if the elders wanted to arrange a marriage between his prince and a nobody, or if Caelus’ presence tilted the universe’s balance in his favor — nothing mattered.

Phainon already knew what he was going to do.

And he wouldn’t allow anyone to separate Mydei from him. Not even fate itself.

Truthfully, he barely managed to finish the food Mydei had so graciously presented. Not because he wasn’t hungry —he had devoured at least a seventy percent of the plates—, and not because he was still worried about their earlier conversation, but because he was physically vibrating with anticipation.

There had only been one scene in the book where Mydei was naked. Or almost naked. He just didn’t have a shirt, to be honest. But it had been the most skin the prince had ever shown! The artist really prided themselves with their artwork, and Phainon had been momentarily too enthusiastic to think about his problems or literally anything else that wasn’t having the privilege to see Mydeimos’ bare body.

Caelus never took a bath with Mydei. That was one point for Phainon, zero for the protagonist.

The bath chambers dedicated solely for the Phagousa water were located on their own building, a huge structure with white marble and golden decorations; there was little to no servants going around, and Phainon could only guess it was because not many people used these baths, and definitively not every day.

“A servant left us a assortment of fruits and wines if you would like to indulge yourself,” Mydei said, as he took his coat off. “We will be here for at least a couple of hours.”

“Of course.”

“There’s also wine. Grape and pomegranate, from Okhema.”

“That sounds good.”

He loved Mydei’s voice, but for the love of him he couldn’t pay attention to what his beloved prince was talking about.

His eyes wouldn’t even blink, staring at how the prince undressed himself with lazy movements. After the coat, the white blouse followed shortly, those soft fingers unbuttoning it almost absentmindedly, revealing the expanse of tanned skin and red markings. Mydei’s shoulders surely were broad as the novel described, but Phainon felt his throat closing at how sinfully narrow the prince’s waist was.

He glanced at his own hands, then looked up again at Mydei’s waist… he could bet his fingers could touch each other if he wrapped his hands round the prince’s abdomen.

Mydei looked over his shoulder at the clipped answers, and Phainon scrambled to start undressing, trying to look occupied and not like someone who had been openly staring at the crown prince’s nakedness. His fingers fumbled with the shirt just to quickly shove it off his body. The trousers met the same fate, being hastily thrown to the side — he didn’t know if there was some type of ritual or process before entering the blessed, shining waters or something, but he was not going to risk Mydei seeing how hard he was right now.

“Hm. Are you tired? Maybe a nap was more needed than a bath.”

“Tired? Of course not. I slept like the dead last night.”

Because he was dead. What a bad joke, even for him. Moving on.

“I see,” the sound of clicking echoed in the chambers. Mydei took off his belt and other waist accessories; Phainon saw a golden chain and a sun symbol attached to it, resembling the tattoo he had on his neck. That sparked some curiosity, even more because there wasn’t any memory in Khaslana’s body that could hint to the knight gifting an accessory like that to his liege.

He was promptly distracted as he saw Mydei’s trousers slide down his wide hips.

This time he made the conscious decision to stop ogling the prince’s body.

He was shameless but not that shameless.

Though…

Mydei entered the water besides him before he could follow his inner demons’ voices, keeping their bodies to an arm’s length. It wasn’t a big distance, but enough to keep propriety between them. Which was ridiculous. If he could, he would have the crown prince on his lap right now.

Alas, he couldn’t, not fully. Not yet, at least.

“The water feels so warm,” he said resting his arms on the border of the pool. The water shined with what Phainon could only describe as fairy dust. The sparkling was hypnotizing, though not as much as the man besides him. “It will also help with Your Highness’ sore muscles. I can only imagine how many hours you spent on your study while I was gone.”

“More than I should have.”

Phainon hummed, then he glanced at the prince.

The fog was already damping their skins, and Mydei’s body seemed to glisten with the moist. The muscles of his arms, his toned stomach, and those big, meaty pectorals of his that Phainon had more often than not fantasized about having in his hands. Would they fill his palms? Seeing them with his own eyes, Phainon was sure that not even his warrior, rugged hands would be enough to hold them. They would surely spill from his hands by how full they looked.

And those nipples? Inverted nipples, he noticed with a dizzy mind. They were a brownish color, and he didn’t want anything else but to suck on them until the nubs peaked out of their hiding, maybe bite them until they turned cherry red.

“You are staring.”

“I’m not,” came the immediate response. Then he sheepishly looked at the water. “I am.”

A huffed chuckle from the prince was like wind chime for sore ears, but it also made Phainon’s cheek blush harder.

“You always stare, why are you acting coy today?” Mydei asked, tilting his head to the side enough to side glance the knight. “You’ve been acting… weird, today. Like you are walking on eggshells.”

“I…” was there any reason to deny it? Mydei knew this body better than Phainon anyway. “I’m sorry.”

At that, Mydei frowned and flickered his wrist, spraying some water on Phainon’s face. “I didn’t say it for you to apologize,” he said. “I just want to know if there’s… something weighing on your mind.”

“Aside from our previous conversation?” Phainon chuckled without humor, before shaking his head. “I was just…”

Wondering how can I be truly worthy of you, he wanted to say.

Asking myself if this is real or if it’s just a dream, he wanted to say.

Thinking about taking you away from this place, he wanted to say.

Yet there was no way he would actually voice any of that. Would Khaslana have the confidence? Probably not, either. Maybe Phainon and Khaslana weren’t as different as Phainon thought, if they had chosen to keep their desires undisclosed even when Phainon hadn’t experienced what Khaslana did.

“Just?”

“… Just thinking.”

Mydei looked at him, his head cradled between his arms that were resting in the bath’s edge.

“Is that so?” the prince said. “You’ve been thinking a lot recently.”

“Hm?” what did he mean by that?

“Today… And before you went away to the reconnaissance mission,” Mydei said, with a small smile. “You’ve been awfully taciturn, I thought you were hiding something from me.”

What could Khaslana even hide from Mydei?

“Nothing of sorts,” Phainon said, though he made sure to remember that for later. “… Why do you say that?” he asked, feigning innocence.

Mydei hummed softly. “You were spending more time inside your bedroom than training. At first I thought you were sick but didn’t want anyone to find out, but Miss Hyacine said you were healthy.”

“Did you ask Hyacine? Aw, Mydei…”

“Do not interrupt me,” Mydei groaned, cheeks slightly blushed. “And in contrast, you had been going out at night more often. I don’t think you didn’t know I would eventually find out about that, or did you?”

“Of course not, how could anything go unnoticed in your palace, your Highness?” Phainon gave him a beaming smile.

“… Don’t play cute with me,” the alpha mumbled. “And you spent more time in the library. That… wasn’t new, but you refused to let me know what you were searching for, even if I know the place better than you.”

Phainon blinked. Huh, what was Khaslana even doing? And he was sure that if the knight tried to, he would’ve went undetected, even inside Mydei’s home.

“Of course, I’m not saying you should report everything you do to me–”

“– I would do it though!”

Mydei glared at him., though the fog from the bath and his drowsiness, slowly becoming aparent, softened the expression “But you don’t have to, so I was just waiting for you to… talk to me.”

So cute.

“I know I say this way too often,” Phainon smiled, reaching a hand towards Mydei, caressing the alpha’s cheek with his fingers. A fleeting touch. “But truly, if it was something to be worried about, you would’ve known instantly.”

Their voices, even as soft as they were, faintly echoed in the empty bath chambers, only the sound of drops dripping and water sloshing accompanying them. It felt intimate — Phainon wondered if he could convince Mydei to indulge in these baths for more hours than usual. He didn’t want to share his prince with the rest of the world.

“I promise,” Phainon softly said, looking at Mydei’s half-lidded, drowsy eyes.

“Hm…” Mydei made a throaty noise. “I will take your word for it, as you’ve never failed me before.”

“And I never will.”

Mydei nodded. “I believe you.”

Phainon smiled at the prince, seeing how the alpha’s eyelids fluttered close. Even if Phainon was the one with his magic core lacking energy, he knew that Mydei enjoyed taking naps here and there, having that particular easiness to fall asleep wherever he landed. And he also knew the prince had been busy as hell with paperwork while Phainon had been away to his mission.

Mydei took great care of Phainon, but he often neglected to show the same care for himself. Something that always drove Khaslana up the walls.

“Are you sleepy?”

“… Mh. No.”

Phainon chuckled. “Liar,” his hand came up, hesitated for a second before threading his fingers between Mydei’s soft golden locks. The alpha’s hair was so incredibly soft… Phainon wanted to know what kind of sound Mydei would do if he accidentally pulled it… But not now.

“I’m tired too, so I was going to request his Highness permission to doze off for a bit.”

“Permission granted,” Mydei replied instantly, muffling a yawn in his arm.

“Thank you, your Highness.”

Mydei mumbled something intelligible, his eyes slowly closing before he finally fell asleep. The warm water and the empty, quiet chamber was the perfect set up for a nap, truth be told.

The alpha’s sleeping, peaceful expression was a vision worthy of remembering for years to come, the usual frown was nowhere, or that perpetual tension in his shoulders. His muscles were relaxed, and the fog of the warm water only made him look more dreamy, like something pulled straight from Phainon’s dreams.

He’s so adorable, Phainon thought, resting an elbow on the bath’s edge to stare at the sleeping prince. Small droplets slid down Mydei’s jaw and the ends of his hair. I would give everything to look at this every day.

He already lost his life, though.

So he could indulge in this a little bit more, right?

Phainon mentally lamented himself. If only I had my phone with me right now! Maybe I could hire a painter some other day… But until then, you will be immortalized in my memories.

The urge to reach out made his hands feel tingly. Phainon moved a bit closer to the prince, the previously calm water sloshing slightly with his movement. He was trying to be as quiet as he could, unless he accidentally woke Mydei up.

Mydei smelled so good. Phainon knew the alpha smelled nice; as the protagonist’s main love interest, Mydei’s scent had been detailed and mentioned multiple times, but Phainon hadn’t expected him to smell so… sweetly.

Coming from a world without secondary genres, Phainon was unaware of a lot of things, and most of his knowledge came from books and fanfiction, so he was a bit confused; most authors portrayed alphas with more smokey or heavy scents, just like his very own. Khaslana smelled like burnt firewood and smoke, mixed with a hint of that particular countryside breeze that was contrasting with the constant charcoal-like tone most Kremnoans had rubbed in their scent glands — those particular tones weren’t actually part of the persons’ scent, but from the place they were born and raised.

He wondered what would Mydei smell like if he rubbed his scent glands against the prince’s. His hands twitched again, and his fangs felt too long for his mouth.

Just a bit, he thought, raising his hand to hover above Mydei’s head, his eyes fixated in the prince’s face to confirm he was still sleeping. Mydei won’t notice, the oils from the bath surely are already impregnated in his skin, right? Khaslana’s pheromones shouldn’t be noticeable.

And scenting someone else wasn’t exactly rare; in the novel, Caelus had seen Hephaestion scent Mydei once or twice.

The thought made Phainon clench his teeth.

If Hephaestion could, then I can too, right? Mydei and Khaslana were more than simple friends, so it wouldn’t be wrong if I do this too…

He wasn’t doing anything wrong, why was he hesitating so much?

… But what if Mydei doesn’t want to bear my scent? the thought pierced the fog of his brain like an arrow at the jugular. Mydei and Khaslana weren’t mated even with the apparent feelings for each other, but even then, between lovers or close friends something like scenting each other was normal, wasn’t it?

So then why Mydei never smelled like Khaslana? Was the knight holding back until they could properly mate? It made Phainon almost feel bad of his own selfish desires to have Mydei wrapped in his scent so heabily everyone wouldn’t have even the tiniest doubt Mydei already was off-limits.

A sudden, small sound made Phainon startle and take a step back. He watched as Mydei’s eyelids fluttered minutely before the prince lazily half-opened his eyes.

“Phainon?” Mydei mumbled, voice rough and low and drowsy. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong with what?” he asked back, smiling nervously. Shit, maybe he wasn’t being careful enough.

Mydei frowned, pursing his lips in a small pout. If it was because he was woken up not even ten minutes after he went to sleep or because Phainon had lamely deflected the question, it didn’t matter, Mydei looked adorable like this.

“You were snarling,” the prince pointed out, going back to burrow his face between his arms. “What are you upset about?”

Snarling? Phainon indistinctly placed a hand on his collarbone. And effectively, his chest was rumbling and his throat had been making a low sound without him noticing— very softly, but the noise was there.

Titans, this secondary genre stuff came with a lot of things to keep on check, huh? Not only he needed to hide the displeasure or jealousy from his scent, now his vocal chord were traitors too.

“Sorry, you can go back to sleep,” he apologetically said, brushing the same hand that almost touched Mydei’s hair through his own snow-white locks. It was slightly shaking, he hoped Mydei hadn’t noticed that too.

“You did not answer me,” Mydei said, peeking at Phainon with one eye. “What are you upset about?”

He just couldn’t answer.

What would Khaslana say? Phainon quickly tried to go through the body’s memories, but ended up with nothing that could help him. Plus, he had… lied to Mydei far too much in a single day. And even if the prince hadn’t said anything, Phainon was sure he had noticed but chose to remain quiet about it.

He didn’t want to keep lying, so silence he chose.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable or tense, and it remained like that for seconds, maybe even minutes, though the time seemed to pass slowly to the white-haired alpha — Phainon had even wondered if Mydei had go back to sleep, before he heard a small sigh and the sound of water moving. He turned his head just in time to almost rub his nose against Mydei’s suddenly very, very close face.

“You reek,” Mydei said, which, rude, but also, he could feel his breathing against his mouth. That was how close they were.

He had been so hesitant to touch Mydei, but look at the prince, approaching a troubled man like he was just strolling through the royal gardens.

“I reek?” by some titan’s grace, Phainon’s voice managed to remains steady despite the quick pace of his heartbeat.

“Yes,” the prince’s drowsy, half-lidded eyes were looking directly at him. “You reek of rain water. You smell like a sad wet dog.”

Alright, at that point Mydei surely was just pushing his buttons, because Phainon definitively wasn’t that anxious or sad.

Before he could fight for his pride and honor, Mydei shook his head. “How many times do I have to tell you? If there’s anything in your mind, just speak up. If there’s anything you need, just tell me,” the prince tilted his head, rubbing his nose against Phainon’s. It was just a soft, fleeting touch, yet the minimal contact had been enough to set his blood ablaze.

Mydei looked at him. “Do not make me ask a third time, Phainon.”

What are you upset about?

Everything.

That this body wasn’t his, this life wasn’t his, Mydei wasn’t his. Why Mydei wasn’t his mate already? What the hell had Khaslana been doing all this time? How could Mydei date the protagonist after Khaslana’s death?!

Why Mydei was here, yet to Phainon he still looked so far, far away and out of his reach?!

He couldn’t stand it — all this mixed feelings inside of him. The anger, the sadness, the love and the hint of something darker that Phainon didn’t know if it had been Khaslana’s or was his or was a mixture of them both, but that undoubtedly had Mydei as the sole recipient of his feelings.

If only he could go of that tiny voice inside his head that couldn’t stop spouting insecure nonsense, maybe he would’ve claimed Mydei for himself as soon as he woke up and realized where he was. Just as he had always dreamed about.

But that voice just wouldn’t shut up.

Phainon looked at Mydei’s eyes, searching for– something. Anything that could put Phainon’s mind at ease, but how could Mydei comfort him when Phainon himself was the problem to begin with?

That stupid voice — it just kept going, mumbling every moment of hesitancy, every time Khaslana tried to reach out to Mydei yet stopped himself from doing so, every time Phainon stayed awake the whole night staring at the empty and cold gray ceiling of his bedroom, fantasizing about how nice would it be to anywhere else but where he was. How nice would it be if he could hold Mydei between his arms and forget about everything else.

Yet now Mydei was just before him, and Phainon still couldn’t embrace him like he had always wanted — and it was his fault alone.

“I…” Phainon started, feeling his voice rough. Not with tears, not with sadness, but with a muffled, simmering anger that burned in his chest at his own vacillation.

What was impeding him from just taking what he desired?

Mydei’s hands came up, cupping Phainon’s face. “Yes?” the prince encouraged, and the action alone made Phainon almost lose it. The veiled care the prince showed him wasn’t out of pity, there was none of that in those amber eyes, and that shook Phainon’s floor.

“I am… upset,” Phainon slowly said, testing the first real, true words coming out of his mouth since he woke up in this world. He decided fuck it, he had already died and there was nothing else to loose except for the man in front of him.

And Phainon would rather die an infinite times more to allow the universe, fate or the authors’ hand to take Mydei away from him.

Mydei nodded, then didn’t say anything else, just stared at him until Phainon let out a shuddering exhale.

“Because some senile elders want to marry you off to someone else,” he said, and the words just started cascading after that. “Because they are going to put someone else in the place I should be. Because I can’t be by your side even if I want to—” Phainon leaned forward, resting his forehead against Mydei’s. “—Because I can’t bite your neck, and I can’t wear your mark either, because I will sully your reputation.”

At that, Mydei frowned, but Phainon didn’t let him reply. “I know, I know it’s not what you think, but Mydei, you are the crown prince of this kingdom, and I’m just…”

Khaslana was just an alpha from a nowhere village, and Phainon wasn’t even someone from this world.

“… I’m just not enough yet.”

The prince stared at him, and they remained in silence for a few seconds until Mydei sighed softly. “You are enough, Phainon,” this time, Mydei was the one who didn’t allow Phainon to reply, silencing him with a glare. “You are, even if the council say otherwise. What do they know about you? They haven’t seen how you spend day and night training to awaken your core, they haven’t seen how many years you spent raising ranks despite already having my parents’ favor.”

Mydei’s hands let go of Phainon’s face, the white-haired alpha almost letting out a pathetic sound if he hadn’t felt how the prince wrapped his arms around his neck. “And I know there’s… nothing we can particularly do. Such decisions are not something I can easily brush off, not with the black tide on our talons.”

Phainon, shaking off the ever present second-guessing, wrapped his own arms around the prince’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer, their naked bodies not allowing even a molecule of air between them. “I know.”

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t try,” Mydei softly smiled. “Phainon, there’s no one in this kingdom who can stand by my side if it isn’t you. We will find a way.”

A sudden flash went through Phainon’s eyes, the flicker of a memory he had already seen before, that Mydei himself had talked about some minutes ago — Khaslana, all alone in the royal library.

Right. What was Khaslana searching for? Phainon closed his eyes, sighing softly as he felt Mydei’s fingers rubbing his scalp. Maybe… Maybe he was searching for a solution?

“We will find a way,” Phainon echoed the words, receiving a satisfied nod from the prince.

“Good,” Mydei smiled softly. “Now you can stop smelling like an abandoned dog.”

“Your Highness, please do not compare me to a dog.”

“Don’t give me reasons to do so, then.”

Phainon chuckled softly, his thumb rubbing circles in Mydei’s lower back. After talking his worries out loud, he felt the weight in his chest lessen, but there was something that was still bothering him.

“Mydei,” he called, receiving a small hm? in response. “Can I scent you?”

Mydei looked at him, eyes wide before darting his gaze to the side. “Such a bold request coming out of nowhere.”

“Is that a no?” Phainon wore a pitiful expression that had Mydei sighing.

“It’s not… a no. It’s just surprising to hear those words coming out of your mouth. Someone as sly as yourself seems to prefer secretly scenting me when he thinks I won’t notice.”

Oh.

So Khaslana did scent Mydei before!

In secret, just like Phainon had been attempting to do before his body betrayed him. Hah, he really needed to go back to his room and dig up every single memory this body held. Turns out that lucky bastard wasn’t the proper knight Phainon thought he was.

“You were encouraging me to be more straightforward, weren’t you? Surely, you aren’t against a direct petition from your beloved knight?”

“… Figured someone like you would take it and run a mile with it,” Mydei mumbled before nodding, cheeks blushed the faintest hue of red that Phainon couldn’t keep his eyes off. “You are allowed, you may proceed.”

The white-haired alpha almost preened in pure delight as he leaned to start nuzzling against the prince, rubbing his cheek against the prince’s, then trailing down to burrow his face in his neck. The pomegranate scent was so heavy there that Phainon swore he could get drunk out of it. His gums ached and he was salivating like crazy, he opened his mouth to graze his fangs against Mydei’s scent gland, and he felt the prince shiver slightly.

“No biting,” the alpha said, though his voice lacked conviction. Phainon was so, so tempted to just bite, but he knew they couldn’t.

Not yet, not until he could find a way to stand by Mydei’s side without leaving room for anyone to doubt his place as the prince’s husband.

“Fine, not baiting yet,” Phainon mumbled, instead starting to lick the scent gland, his arms tightening around the other alpha’s waist. Their bodies were pressed so tightly together than there was no way Mydei couldn’t feel Phainon’s growing excitement, as much as he could feel Mydei’s. None of them cared enough to do anything about it, as they were too busy indulging in the mixture of their scents entangled.

Mydei had started to scent Phainon back at some point, rubbing his cheek against Phainon’s head, leaving his smell in the snow-white locks, gasping softly every time Phainon sucked a hickey on the skin. Sooner rather than later, Mydei’s neck wore a necklace of red bite marks.

Phainon’s eyes were hazy, brain fogged to the point he could only focus in Mydei and his honey sweet scent, his hands going up and down trying to touch as much as he could. Mydei’s narrow waist, his wide hips, his thick thighs and his plump ass he couldn’t help but squeeze as soon as he grabbed it, even if it earned him a sharp bite in his neck in retaliation of a very flustered prince and a mumbled “pervert” directed at him.

And then he went up, hands cupping the underside of Mydei’s heavy pectorals, delighting himself at finally knowing that yes, those pecs were as pillowy and soft as they looked. He wanted to suck those brownish red nipples so bad, but was that moving too fast? He wanted to take his time exploring Mydei’s body, but the fire in his veins wanted to claim him already — outside and inside.

His thoughts were interrupted when a voice echoed in the bathchamber.

“Your Highness,” a voice he didn’t quite recognize called — a servant, most likely. Phainon swallowed the urge to loudly groan or whine, knowing their time was up. “Pardon my intrusion—”

You are not pardoned! Phainon lamented.

“—His majesty had requested your presence in his office at once.”

Mydei let out a shaky exhale before cleaning his throat. Luckily the servant had remained at the bath chamber's entrance, where they couldn’t see the both alphas groping each other and scenting like crazy. The oils in the water lamely masked their mixed scent, though… Anyone who had a sense of smell could tell what happened inside the bath.

“I will be there soon enough,” Mydei answered, his hands threading between Phainon’s hair a last time before he looked at his knight and pressed a kiss on his nose. “You should go rest as Hyacine instructed. Do not go to the training grounds. I will know if you disobey me.”

“Sure, sure,” Phainon mumbled, arms still locked around Mydei in case the prince decided to forget about his duties and decided to stay in the bath with him. Alas, there was no way Mydei would ever leave his responsibility as a prince in the sidelines, and soon Phainon found himself feeling cold as Mydei slipped away from his embrace.

“Don’t look so sad, we can see each other once I’m done with this.”

“I know,” but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t feel deflated. As Mydei’s knight, Phainon acted as his shadow most of the time — but if Mydei hadn’t called him to go, then that meant the meeting with his father was something he didn’t want Phainon to hear.

It must be about the marriage, he thought, feeling acid creep up his throat as he saw Mydei drying himself with a towel and dress up, as Phainon remained inside the bath, just staring at the prince. I hate this, I need to find a way to change this plot!

Mydei turned to look at him a last time. He seemed about to say something, but he closed his mouth before anything came out; instead, he approached the edge of the bath and pressed a kiss on Phainon’s forehead.

“Go rest.”

“Yes, your Highness,” Phainon mumbled, leaning up to bite Mydei’s neck for the last time, making Mydei let out a small startled gasp. “Ouch! Mydei!” the knight whined as the prince tugged those two funny white hairs.

“And you don’t want me to compare you with a dog,” Mydei huffed, turning around. “I’m off.”

“See you later, your Highness!”

As soon as Mydei’s steps couldn’t be heard anymore, Phainon let out a bone deep sigh. His hands covered his face as he rested his elbows on the edge of the bath.

On the bright side, he had been able to kiss and scent and bite his beloved, beautiful, gorgeous prince and hear him make those adorable little gasps and feel his delectable body shiver under his hands. That alone had been better than all the fantasies, fanfictions and voice acted audios he had indulged in his previous world.

On the dark side…

Phainon sighed again.

An unexpected twist had entered the narrative. Not only he had to mark and mate Mydei before the protagonist entered with all his full, plot-armored glory, but he also had to find a way to avoid Mydei to get engaged in an arranged marriage just because some old fools wanted more power over the crown and used the black tide’s surge as an excuse.

Such a stupid plot, can’t I just kidnap Mydei and run away until the story’s plot is over?

Hah, that was an idea alright.

…

Phainon shook his head.

No, no. He couldn’t do that! Mydei was a very kind-hearted prince who put his people above everything else. Phainon couldn’t just take him away and expect Mydei to remain quiet and still as Castrum Kremnos was threatened by the black tide just like in the novel.

He bit his lower lip. But remaining him meant Mydei will eventually meet Caelus…

He needed to make a plan, an actual plan to go against Petite Parabole’s plot and this unforeseen marriage plot.

Decided to stop wasting time sulking, Phainon emerged from the baths and hastily patted himself dry with a towel, dressing up as fast as he could before exiting the bath chambers. The sky outside was a bright blue, the sun shining front and center — a some time past midday. They had spent a good two or so hours inside the baths, huh?

He wasn’t hungry enough to go have lunch after the small feast Mydei and him ate for brunch, and since he couldn’t go towards the training grounds, even if he —and Khaslana’s body— really wanted to, Phainon decided to instead go to another place he had been meaning to explore…

The Garbaniphoro Library, the grandest hub of knowledge in the entire kingdom of Castrum Kremnos. Luckily it was in the public zone of the palace, and since Mydei was the one in charge of it, the guards nearby only nodded friendly to him as he entered the building.

It was truly a place worthy of its fame — even if Kremnoans valued battle-skill and war, they didn’t lack scholars. Some people were seen inside, though Phainon walked around as quietly as he could. He was here to keep up with Khaslana’s research.

If Khaslana, a man who shadowed Mydei almost every second of the day, had managed to keep a secret from the prince himself… It surely was something regarding their problem. Maybe the knight had been planning a way to gain a noble title? Commoners were able to obtain noble status with marriage, but marrying Mydei as a commoner would only make the prince a target for the oppositors.

Winning battleships and wars was another way, but that had been how Phainon quickly raised to his current rank as Mydei’s one and only personal knight and commander of his own legion.

Finding a secluded table in a corner of the third floor, Phainon closed his eyes and tried to relax his tense shoulders.

“Alright, I’m ready,” he mumbled to himself. “Let’s watch Khaslana’s memories…”

He had anticipated the throbbing headache, but the nausea of intentionally pry into this body’s remembrances was something Phainon could never get used to, no matter how many times it happened.

Flashes of afterimages appeared in his eyelids, ghosts of people and blurred figures was everything he saw until the vertigo stopped and he saw a scene playing — just like a movie, like the previous flashbacks. This time he saw Khaslana sitting in a table overflowing with thick, ancient-looking books and scrolls that could break into dust if someone looked at them too strongly.

“It’s not here either…” he heard Khaslana’s voice. It was muffled, and the same went with the sound of pages turning, like his ears were under the water even if he could see everything clearly. “Did Cipher lie to me?”

Cipher? Phainon took mental note of that name. Whoever that was, the person wasn’t mentioned in Petite Parabole, so Phainon would’ve to search for this person in Khaslana’s memories later.

“It’s too good to be true,” Khaslana rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, the other busy turning the pages as he finished reading them. “Should I go back to Okhema? Maybe Lady Aglaea could maybe help me out, or visit the Grove? Professor Anaxa might know something about it…”

Khaslana let out a heavy, tired groan. Phainon tried to look around, but other than the zone Khaslana was at, the rest of the library was covered in a thick black shadow. Phainon redirected his search to the books on the table.

There were some thick but clearly recent books with the titles ‘Basic secondary genre biology’, ‘Everything there’s to know about heat and ruts’ and ‘Cases of frenzy awakening for study’.

In the other pile, where the older books and scrolls piled up high, Phainon could only read some of the blurred words. ‘Alflanke’s Myths & Legends’, ‘Hattusili Log #361 – archived files’, ‘Stymphalia’s Prof. Mnemosyne Study in…’

Phainon blinked.

Enigmas?

What were those? Was it some sort of being, and that was why Khaslana had been searching for it? Had the situation get so bad Khaslana had turned towards myths for some help?

That sounded almost hysterical, but Phainon could only keep watching as Khaslana’s tired eyes read through the old thin pages of another book from this Mnemosyne person.

“There’s only rumors and legends about it,” Khaslana grumbled again, rubbing his eye with an exasperated expression. “Lady Aglaea is the only enigma in our time, but she had been born as one…”

Huh, so it wasn’t a mythical being. Lady Aglaea was someone Phainon knew about — not only thanks to Khaslana’s most recent memories, but thanks to the novel too. In Petite Parabole she had been mentioned a lot of times while Caelus and his group had been in Okhema, though they had mostly talked with the Holy Maiden Tribios and the Imperator’s sword, Hysilens.

They had never mentioned the woman’s secondary genre, though, so Phainon hadn’t thought about it until now.

Why was Khaslana searching up about enigmas?

The answer came from the man himself.

“… I’m on a dead end, so I can only trust Cipher for now,” Khaslana mumbled. “Even if she’s playing a joke to me, I have no other plan yet, so I might as well keep searching.”

A sound came from outside the only zone Phainon could see, a woman’s voice, soft and quiet.

“Sir Khaslana?”

The knight stood up from his chair, closing the book he had been reading. “Your Highness. I didn’t know you were arriving today, my apologies.”

“Please, you know to call me only Castorice when we are in private.”

Oh, Castorice! Another character Phainon recognized, but he couldn’t see her, just hear her voice. The alpha’s voice came out with a happy, more animated tone. “And please do not apologize, I came earlier than expected. His Highness still doesn’t know I’m here, though. I figured you would be with him, yet I saw you alone as I passed the library.”

Khaslana smiled softly and approached the darkened, shadowed side of the scene. “I’ve been just reading some books to spend time as Mydei’s in a meeting with the elders. Please, do follow me to the waiting room, I will send someone to notify His Highness of your arrival…”

The memory ended, and Phainon opened his eyes again, feeling a bit lightheaded.

Khaslana hadn’t been hiding his research from Mydei alone, it seemed. He seemed to be hiding it from anyone but this person called Cipher. And… a research about enigmas, huh?

Phainon stood up to start searching around the long bookshelves. Bless his good memory, he could find some of the ancient and newer books that were in Khaslana’s table. He wasn’t too enthusiastic in having to study, specially when he had been out of college for some years already — but if it gave him something to hold onto, then he was going to endure it.

“Father, you called for me,” Mydei said in lieu of a greeting. He was a bit upset to have his time with Phainon interrupted, and he hadn’t bothered to cover his hickey-marked neck for the same reason.

The twitch in Eurypon’s eyebrow was worth it, but the old man only sighed and gestured towards the chair.

“Sit down, Mydeimos. We must talk about important matters at once.”

“Which kind of important matters?” Mydei sat down, crossing his arms. He looked around and frowned. “Where’s mother?”

“Gorgo is… hm. She’s blowing some steam off in the training grounds”

“… Let us pray to Nikador, they shall give our soldiers strenght and bravery.”

“We pray for our soldiers.”

Mydei sighed deeply. “So, this is about the council’s plans, huh?”

“It is,” at least Eurypon had tact enough to look apologetic instead of the raging fury that must be consuming him from the inside. Mydei preferred that over hearing his parents’ rage about those foolish elders. “They’ve decided a… list of suitors for you. Completely unprompted, without caring about their king’s clear order to avoid bringing up the topic again–”

“Father, you knew they weren’t going to listen to you and stay still,” Mydei said, huffing softly. “They gave mother a really bad time back then too, right?”

“They did. Even when Gorgo was of a small yet noble house, those old fools were still adamant for me to marry a daughter of more elevated standing. Such nonsense, none of those warriors were as strong or as beautiful as my beloved Gorgo.”

Mydei sighed deeply. The council managed their own agenda. Old, retired commanders who had long removed themselves from war, now turning to play political threads just like those nobles from Okhema. Hypocrites, they mocked Okhemans yet away from battle, they turned to be just like the people they disliked, worrying about status and ranks.

“Can I see the list?”

“Why do you want to do that?” his father’s eyes opened wide looked at him for a second before narrowing them suspiciously. “Did that bastard do something to lose your favor? Not that I wouldn’t be happy about it, but…”

“Absolutely not,” Mydei glared at his father, his scent souring immediately. “And don’t call your future son-in-law a bastard.”

“Well then, that pervert–”

“Don’t call him a pervert either! Father!”

“I’m calling him what he is! Always looking at you in a way no knight should look at his liege! He drags you to the bath chambers every single day, twice a day!”

“What is wrong with taking baths twice a day? We are warriors and Kremnos has the furnaces working all day long, we sweat a lot.”

“He drags you to the private bath chambers!”

Mydei pouted. “And what if I’m okay with that?”

Eurypon had a pale face and looked fifty years older than he was. “Just what kind of man is your type, my dear son…”

“Strong handsome warriors with thick arms, a smile that could rival the sun and that are a little pathetic for my attention.”

“it wasn’t an actual question. I can’t do anything about the first part but I can bring you a puppy for the last part…”

“Phainon is already my puppy.”

Eurypon covered his ears. “Please refrain from speaking such words in front of your father.”

“Then don’t ask such nonsensical things,” Mydei extended his hand. “The list, father.”

The king extended the stack of papers towards the prince, not being able to look at his son at the eyes. Mydei felt like laughing at his father’s expression, but he refrained to do so. He would tell about this to his mother later.

He started reading the documents. The names of the sons and daughters of high ranking warriors was to be expected, the same went for the relatives of the elders in the council. “How surprising,” Mydei mumbled with sarcasm, rolling his eyes, until he frowned at seeing the last couple of names.

“… Hephaestion?” Mydei felt faint. “Father…”

“That’s why I didn’t want you to read it. Mydeimos, you should listen more to your father—”

Mydei blinked slowly. “… Who else is in this list?” he said, answering himself before his father could. Mydei almost choked with his saliva. “Leonnius…?” he passed to another page. “Perdikkas?!” he feel like he was going to throw up. “Oh Nikador… Even Ptolemy and Peucesta?!”

Eurypon cleaned his throat, though a vein could be seen throbbing in his forehead. “Son, please…”

The prince stood up, hands shaking in rage as he started pacing the room. Seeing Mydei losing his composure was weird, but those fools of the council had managed to piss him off. “So that’s why mother was so angry!” Mydei said, pacing around as he rumpled the papers in his hands. “These… These bastards–!”

Mydei’s closest friends, the men who had watched him grow up and who were the soldiers under his uncle Krateros’ command, the elite of the Kremnoan army — they were his brothers in arms, and most important of all, half of them already had a lover!

Ptolemy had found a very intelligent man when he went to the Grove for some time, Peucesta was enamored with a soldier from the palace, and Perdikkas had stone set plans to finally propose to his long-term alpha girlfriend.

None of them were mated per se, but they didn’t shy away from talking about their lovers. The only ones still “single” were Leonnius and Hephaestion.

But the elders were clearly uncaring about his friends’ relationships if they even pushed them to an arrangement with the crown.

“Son, do not despair,” Eurypon called him. “Your mother and I have already talked about your friends with the council. We managed to remove three of them, but… there wasn’t a reason to remove Hephaestion and Leonnius of the list, since they don’t have any known lover and any sign of one at this time will not be believed by the council.”

Mydei groaned, rubbing his forehead. “… I will speak with the elders myself about this. What do you know about the other… candidates, father?”

Eurypon made a face then shrugged. “High ranking soldiers, nobles’ children. They are… good warriors, incredible even. But none of them come without a string attaching them to the council, Mydeimos.”

“And they even gathered so many of them. They really are desperate,” Mydei looked at the pages again before giving them back to his father. “Would it be right for me to assume you took these without the council’s permission?”

“You weren’t supposed to know until next week’s meeting,” Eurypon tapped the stack of papers. “Now you do, so prepare accordingly. I don’t put it past them to order these suitors to start buzzing around you soon.”

“Noted,” Mydei nodded. He felt like his head was going to explode. The only one he wanted to marry was Phainon, but everything was against them. The white-haired alpha was right, even with his achievements and his commander title, he was still but a commoner from a place far away from Kremnos. And the council, even if nothing but a bunch of old fools in Mydei’s eye, were still people to not be trifled with easily, as they still held too much power in both the nobility, the army and the Nikador church’s priests.

He didn’t want Phainon to turn into an outcast, not when he fought so hard to belong among the Kremnoans.

“You are free to go. If you can, please go look after your mother.”

“I was planning to.”

Eurypon nodded, and leaned to pat his son’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Mydeimos. I may not like your choice, but if that man is the companion you want for the rest of your life… Then I’m sure you two will come up with something. Your mother and I will help you as much as we can.”

“… Thank you, father.”

Nothing more was said between them, Mydei had too much to think about. How could he recount this to Phainon? The man had been under the weather since some months ago, when the council started acting against them. And today… the whole morning, Phainon had been acting strange.

“He must he overthinking again,” Mydei mumbled to himself as he went towards the training grounds. “Would it… be better if I don’t say anything about this?” he didn’t want to add more weight to Phainon’s burden. The man was clearly going through it, like Cipher would say.

Sighing softly, Mydei decided to keep this to himself, at least for now, at least until he could speak with the council himself to put an end to this nonsense.

With a nod to himself, Mydei went to the training grounds. His mother was probably cleaning the floor with the poor soldiers who were unlucky enough to be there to witness his mother’s rage.

Phainon’s eyes burned so, so harshly.

He had been reading for three hours straight, both the same books Khaslana was reading and a few new others that had caught his eye as he was searching about enigmas.

Ans just like Khaslana, everything he found was either myths and hypothesis with little to no follow up. It was frustrating, he hadn’t felt this helpless since he started working on his thesis! Looking at the book he took to write down his notes, Phainon decided to go through all of it again, maybe it would give him a lead.

“Let’s see… Enigmas are a fourth type of secondary genre, a one in a million person who’s born with a strong, awakened core. In the past, most enigmas suffered from magic backlash during their childhood, and it was rare for any of them to grow past their adolescence…”

He tapped the paper with the quill. “But nowadays, the kids are able to reach adulthood as long as they’re being constantly monitored, their cores checked on a daily basis and provided strong medicine to regulate the influx of energy…”

That was why Aglaea hadn’t made an appearance in Petite Parabole, she probably couldn’t. In Khaslana’s memories, he had often seen his mentor in the scarce moments where she was free — Aglaea had always been inside a giant bath shimmering with golden-like water. It must’ve been the medicine to regulate her core.

“In the myths, it’s said the enigmas were people blessed by the Titans’ themselves. They were portrayed as demigods who could wield strong magic and just one enigma was enough to fend off against entire armies…” and that was one of the reasons why Khaslana wanted to become one. Who could even dare to go against an enigma? His strenght as an alpha was already impressive, but alphas were common and compared to other Kremnoan alphas, the council had only called him ‘a bit above average, but that’s it’.

How infuriating.

Phainon tapped his chin with the feather end of the quill, tickling his nose. “… But a grand amount of records were lost after the black tide swallowed Stymphalia three centuries ago.”

And Professor Mnemosyne’s work is forever lost now, the alpha thought, grimacing. There’s no track of more books, even the Grove lacks copies of the Professor’s research.

Everything he could find was the tale of an alpha who went to the skies and prayed to Nikador to give him their blessings — an heroic man who wanted to fight against the first wave of the black tide. Nikador had remained silent towards the man’s plea, so the alpha went to Aquila. The Sky Titan had remained silent, too, and the same went with all the other Titans who the man begged to, even Kephale themselves.

And then, the tale went like this.

Tired and disappointed in the Titans, the alpha carried himself back to his city, and prayed a last time to the three Titans of Fate. As the man got up to leave the temple, the three Titans’ voices could be heard, mumbling in ushered voices the alpha shouldn’t had been able to hear.

‘O Janus, should we remain mute against our people’s suffering, soon the dark waves will reach us too.’

‘Whereas we remain soundless or we lend our strenght, the enemy shall wreak havoc on the Father’s creation, as foretold by our own hand.’

‘Yet is it not our duty to protect what was given to us? We have nurtured the humans since the creation that gave us life, and they had given back to us in prayers and faith, howbeit we will forsake our children in their time of need?’

‘O Oronyx, this one is aware our children’s fate pains you so, as I feel the same. Nevertheless, the taint is a suffering greater than ourselves. Attempt as we might, the corruption would gauze our sense, as you are as aware as I am.’

‘As aware as I am, and heedless of what our hands had predicted, I shall not remain concealed within our cocoon as our people die. O Talanton, you who had remained quiet yet beheard my sorrow, doest thou acquiesce?’

‘… I have heard your plight, and I shall do what I must do.’

According to the tale, the alpha had been too distracted listening to the Titans’ conversation to notice the sky growing dark and the wind picking up — probably the storyteller’s dramatics, if Phainon were to be asked—, before three figures, wearing long robes that covered their face completely, appeared in front of him.

‘This one, Talanton who ruled over destiny, had witnessed how a catastrophe razed the Father’s creation to the ground, as the mortals were deprived of succour. As justice itself, destiny’s unfairness is a phenomenon I shall emend.’

Talanton, the Law Titan, had granted the alpha a gift — they had turned him into a powerful being with an outstanding magical core that could go against the black tide. Or anyway, that was what the legend said.

Phainon had been so tired after reading so many books for hours that he almost threw the book out of the window.

“That’s bullshit,” he groaned. “Only a child’s fairytale! How am I supposed to just summon the Fate Titans like they are Pokemons?!”

“What are Pokemons?”

Phainon almost had a heart attack. Turning around so fast he almost broke his neck, he looked at the source of the voice — a girl with light gray hair with some white streaks and… cat ears? Looked at him with an amused, smug smirk.

“Heya. Why are you looking at me like I’m a ghost?”

Why do you have cat ears? he wanted to ask. Then another one overrode it; why couldn’t Mydei have cat ears?

“Huh, sorry, I was just…”

The girl arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Why are you acting like I haven’t seen you do even more embarrassing things than talking alone like a weirdo?”

Who are you?!

“Anyway, tell me. Did you find anything about that little research project of yours?” the girl sat on the table, her cat tail (?!) swaying lazily. “I tried to find something myself, you know? But this stuff is sooo complicated to track down! Ugh, not even that green crazy man has any lead. By the way, you owe me, I had to endure a long and tedious lesson about biology and whatnot!”

Phainon remained silent, luckily for him the girl looked like she loved to hear her own voice.

“He said it was scientifically impossible to change one’s gender to alpha or omega towards enigma, because unlike turning an alpha into an omega or vice-versa, being an enigma involved the capacity of the magical core!”

You know what? Regardless of the unusual and out of setting character design, he liked this girl, she looked like one of those quest givers in his games that just threw lore dump to the player when the player was stuck somewhere. Phainon rubbed his chin and nodded as the girl kept talking.

“So yeah, he said that if someone where to turn into an enigma, somehow, then they would just… poof! Explode in a pretty cloud of magic sparkles! Or in the rare, almost impossible case someone didn’t turn into fairy dust, it would send the person into a frenzy rut never ever seen before!”

The cat girl (?!?!?) jumped off the table and shrugged. “So basically, unless you are hiding you are a demigod or something, we are back at square one.”

“… I see.”

“You don’t look very disappointed, though.”

Phainon shrugged. “Disappoint had been a constant in my life.”

Oh wow, that sounded horrible. Phainon cleared his throat. “I mean, this search hasn’t given us many fruits to pick up since the start, huh?”

“Hm. That’s true. But you are still determined to fix this whole mess somehow, aren’t you?” the girl narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You aren’t giving up on the little lion, are you?”

Little lion–? Was she talking about Mydei?

Phainon frowned, now actually offended. “Of course not. I would rather die,” again.

The girl nodded, satisfied. “The same reply as always. Good to know, good to know,” she turned around, looking at him over her shoulder. “Anyway, I will come talk to you if I find something new. Now, if you will excuse me, mister white knight, I have a little lion to pester until he bakes me the apple pie I’ve been craving. Peace!”

Phainon blinked, and the girl had went out as fast as she had arrived. How weird, I don’t think Petite Parabole had a character like her.

Almost an hour after he was alone again, one of the servants entered the library and approached him.

“Sir Khaslana, His Highness had requested your presence. He’s waiting for you in the rose garden’s gazebo with Lord Cipher and Miss Hyacine.”

Lord Cipher…?

Cipher!

“Oh, so that’s who she was!”

The servant tilted her head. “Excuse me?”

Phainon only chuckled and waved his hand. “Never mind. I will be there shortly, thank you.”

Well, a break was well deserved! Just in the for Mydei’s evening tea too, so what was better than to enjoy the pretty day together with his beloved? Oh, and their friends, yeah.

With a spring on his step, the white-haired alpha exited the library.

“We’ve been walking for ages! Where is this Titans-damned kingdom?!”

“Calm down, we are in the right path.”

“You said that the last time, and we ended up in the shores of Alflanke instead of Okhema.”

“Well, this time we are in the right path, Stelle.”

“Give me the map!”

“No!”

“Caelus give me that damn map!”

Caelus let out a whine as his sister wrestled him for the piece of paper. “Dan Heng!”

“Not helping,” the dark-haired man kept walking.

“March!”

“Not helping either!” the pink-haired girl walked past him.

“Traitors, all of you! Stelle, give me back my map!”

“Absolutely not, I will be holding it this time, or we will never reach Castrum Kremnos if you are holding it,” his sister opened the now wrinkled map before frowning. “We were walking in the opposite direction!”

The other two sharply turned to look at Caelus, who whimpered. “Sorry…?”

Dan Heng sighed. “That’s… not okay, but we won’t waste more time. We should reach Castrum Kremnos to complete the Imperator’s request,” the man walked towards Caelus, fixing the clothes that went messy and rumpled after the tug war with Stelle. “Don’t sulk. Come on.”

“Yes, yes…”