Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Life was full of unexpected situations.

However, according to Phainon, it’s up to each individual to take control of such situations and turn them into opportunities.

With that belief in mind, he ended up at the Kremnos royal palace, waiting for the king to show up.

Who, by the way, was certainly taking his sweet time.

From the corner of his eye, he could catch sight of the servants murmuring as they passed by the room. Apparently, visitors from other cities weren’t all that common.

Did all of them know why he was there? Those eyes on him were quite judgy.

Phainon pondered about the situation one more time. Maybe he hadn't thought this through.

After all, he was attempting to propose marriage— To the picky Kremnos king, no less.

The day this task fell upon him, Aglaea called him personally in her private office to explain the situation. Basically, there was a talk at the council —definitely a shady talk—, and by majority vote, it was decided that someone from Okhema had to go to Castrum Kremnos and try to convince the king to form an alliance through marriage.

That someone was Phainon: a recently appointed general, an unmated alpha, and a man with a relatively good background. According to the council, he was the perfect candidate.

And Aglaea was not really happy about that outcome. Once she finished her explanation, she had a resolute expression on her face; she probably had a plan to go against the council’s wishes.

On the other hand, Phainon…

“It’s fine, I’ll do it.”

He accepted his fate honorably. Smiling at Aglaea, he told her not to worry about him.

At that moment, he was just trying to act cool in front of his mentor. Just as she didn’t want the council to manipulate his life, he didn’t want her to be placed in a difficult position.

Besides, there was also a reason to see the—

“King of Castrum Kremnos, Mydeimos, is entering the room. Pay respects!”

Suddenly, the guard at the door announced in a loud voice. Phainon stood and bowed his head.

A few seconds later, the man entered the room. Phainon caught sight of his boots first, moving steadily across the floor before the man sat down in front of him.

Another few seconds passed—maybe a minute or two—but the king remained silent.

… Was it his turn to say something? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t familiar with the Kremnoan way. By instinct, he raised his head slightly to get a clue of what to do. Unlucky him, as soon as he did, his eyes met the other man’s.  Sharp eyes that resembled the colors of sunset narrowed as he looked at Phainon.

The king started speaking. “In Kremnos, people that look at the king without permission are punished by flogging. I shall forgive your ignorance once, since you’re a guest.”

Well, that was one hell of a first greeting, wasn’t it?

The right thing to do right now was probably to apologize immediately and lower his head again.

Yes, that should be it—at least for the sake of Okhema, which he was currently representing.

That was his intention. But he couldn’t stop looking.

Though really, it wasn’t his fault.

It was that face. That face was the real culprit.

He had seen this man before. Even though it had been years, he expected the mental shock to have lessened—even if just a little.

But that was only a naive hope. Not only had this man’s face shamelessly become even more handsome, but his entire presence was also ethereal.

Ah, that was it for him. His fragile dream of living an ordinary life with no vices was shattered. Now he felt like he could throw his life away if the man asked him to.

“...You must be deaf. Or is it that Okhema lacks lessons in manners? You have the audacity to keep looking.”

The murmuring voice didn’t sound particularly angry, but it did sound dangerously calm.

Phainon was returned to reality. At this rate, he was going to die for real. He had to deal with the situation at hand.

“I’m ashamed, Your Majesty.” Phainon finally lowered his head as he spoke. “I have no excuse; I can only ask for your understanding. As a mere soldier, I was momentarily impressed by your greatness.”

“…..”

He could feel the king’s stare on the top of his head. Whatever he was thinking, in the end, Phainon heard him let out a deep sigh—and then, he spoke to his servants. “Everyone, leave the room.”

The few servants who had been serving appetizers for the king, along with the two guards at the door, obeyed immediately. The door closed behind them, and it was just the two of them in the room.

Before Phainon could think of anything, the king spoke again.

“Let’s keep it short and skip the formalities, Deliverer. I’m a busy man, so you have exactly five minutes to convince me that I’m not wasting my time here.”

Ah, as expected. This beauty was sharp and pointy like a spear. This was not going to be easy.

Phainon cleared his throat. He decided he might as well appeal to politics first, to establish a solid base. So he used his best diplomatic tone. “As His Majesty might be aware, Okhema is—”

“I’m very aware of what Okhema wants and offers. Lady Aglaea made sure to be crystal clear about that in the letter.” The king cut him off, adding sharply, “That was not my question.”

Well, so much for the solid base. But he would die trying. “It seems I’m still lacking, Your Majesty. I’d appreciate it if you could enlighten me.”

At some point, Phainon found himself looking directly at the king again. That impassive face was already showing signs of annoyance toward him again. However, as if out of benevolence, the king let it slide this time. Instead, he leisurely rested his face in his hand and asked in the haughtiest tone Phainon had ever heard in his life.

“Why should I allow you to marry me?”

Phainon remained silent.

If he was honest, he hadn’t come to Castrum Kremnos with any strong belief that the king would accept his proposal.

He hadn’t had high expectations, nor did he have a winning strategy for success. His main goal was simply to get the result the council most likely wanted, one way or another. And if possible, he had hoped to ask the king for a small favor.

That was the plan.

But then, he faced this man.

“Let’s not drag this out. If you don’t have anything to say in the next sixty seconds, I’ll end this meeting now.”

This impatient, very rude, but very beautiful Kremnoan man.

Phainon sighed inwardly. Well, he might as well take the chance the Titans gave him. This beauty could always rip him apart if he didn’t like it.

Finally, Phainon spoke. “Then, have a duel with me.”

One of the eyebrows on Mydeimos’s face went up, visibly confused. “What?”

“Your Majesty asked me to give him a reason. If you have a duel with me, then you will know that I’m the best candidate—no, the only one who is suited to marry you. Your Majesty probably doesn’t know, but I have a pretty good reputation when it comes to sparring.”

Silence filled the room. Mydeimos looked closely at Phainon’s face, as if trying to memorize the face of the fool who had dared to challenge the king of a city of warriors to a duel.

As for Phainon, he was trying his best not to look away. The man’s glare was so intense, he was having a hard time not to blush. And then there was that faint citric smell in the air, which was starting to make him feel a little dizzy. Was he thirsty…?

Suddenly, Mydeimos chuckled, and Phainon got goosebumps. The king stood up and murmured, “Impressive.” As he walked toward the door, he paused for a moment and added, “But words are just words. Show me, Deliverer.”

…Well, crisis overcome. That was intense.

It took Phainon about twenty seconds to realize his challenge had been accepted, and he quickly hurried after the king.

The two men now found themselves in a large training ground at the rear of the palace. Phainon held a wooden sword as he glanced sideways at Mydeimos, who stood flexing his fingers, armored hands shifting slightly.

He couldn’t help but ask, “Are you not going to use a sword, Your Majesty?”

“It’s unnecessary. Any complaints?”

“Not at all. Your Majesty may do as you please. I’m not going to hold back, either.”

It would be foolish to question the fighting style of the king himself.

Without waiting for a signal, Phainon slid forward and swung his sword toward Mydeimos.

The response was immediate. Mydeimos blocked the strike with his forearm and counterattacked. Phainon was briefly surprised by the force behind the move, but he recovered quickly.

At first, Phainon moved cautiously, gauging Mydeimos’s strength and familiarizing himself with his movements. He could sense the king was doing the same with him.

After keeping up that pace for about twenty minutes, he reached a point where his movements were no longer calculated. It had become a duel that demanded a winner—without success. Phainon struck, countered, and evaded, pouring all his strength into the grip of his sword.

As expected, the king of Castrum Kremnos, who sliced through monsters as if they were slices of bread, was on a whole different level.

He had long since lost track of time. His muscles were tense and burning, and his body was drenched in sweat.

But it was fun. It felt right.

This moment, and the man sharing it with him, felt that way. He felt the need to let him know.

“Unlike His Majesty,” When Phainon’s sword collided with the king’s armor again, he spoke, his voice breathless as he tried to hold the king in place by pushing against him. “I wasn't born noble, so I don’t have much to offer. But if you say yes, I’ll give you my all and cherish you deeply, Mydeimos.”

He wasn’t sure, but something in Mydeimos’ expression seemed to shift, and for a brief moment, his movements faltered. But as if it had never happened, he recovered instantly. With great force, he shoved Phainon back with his free hand, using the momentum to pin him down and knock him to the ground.

With Mydeimos’ knee pressed against his chest and a firm grip on his wrist, Phainon found himself immobilized. From the moment he fell, he made no effort to resist, only staring up into Mydeimos’ eyes.

Mydeimos was the first to break the silence with a mocking tone. “...I guess you lack experience, seeing how easily you get distracted. You talked big earlier, but look at you now. I’ve seen sacrificial lambs show more resistance than you.” The grip on Phainon’s wrist tightened. It hurt. Just a little.

Phainon smiled through the pain. “That judgment feels a bit unfair. I gave up my imminent victory just to prove a point, you know.”

Mydeimos raised an eyebrow and scoffed in disbelief. “Is that so?”

“Well, as I said before, I’ll give you my all.”

“…Your body?”

“Of course. That’s what I’m most confident in.” Phainon, who had suddenly grown a thick skin, winked. “And the quality is guaranteed. My soul and heart are also included in the package. Isn’t that a good deal? Just so you know, I’m not cheap.”

“….”

At first, Mydeimos looked genuinely thrown. Then he fell silent, his face inscrutable, simply staring at Phainon as if searching for something. Phainon wasn’t sure, but perhaps he was waiting for him to say he was joking or something.

The truth was, Phainon was being completely sincere. He had never pursued anyone in his life, but he would do anything in his power if it meant convincing the man in front of him to be his. So, naturally, he didn’t back down and gave him the most charming smile he could muster.

Finally, Mydeimos looked away and tilted his head back, as if to glance up at the sky. A second later, something between a sigh and a laugh—Phainon couldn’t tell which—escaped his lips. He let go of Phainon’s arm and rose to his feet.

“All right, then. Become mine,” Mydeimos murmured.

Phainon, who was busy rubbing his sore wrist, thought he had misheard. His eyes widened visibly as he asked for confirmation. “Yes?”

Mydeimos crossed his arms, managing to look unfairly handsome as he gazed down at Phainon.

“Since you insist, I will grant it.”

Phainon froze. As if it were a lie that, just minutes ago, he had shamelessly offered himself like a piece of meat on sale at the market, he now wore an expression of sheer disbelief.

When he saw him, Mydeimos didn’t smile, but his expression softened, and his voice was gentle as he spoke again. “Marriage. Let’s do it.”

Phainon could only nod like a fool, unable to look away—completely mesmerized by the gorgeous man who, it seemed, had just become his fiancé.

Chapter Text

When Mydei got the letter from Okhema, he wasn’t that surprised at first. No — he even thought it was a bit funny because of how predictable it was.

The reason behind their actions was not difficult to understand. It had been about two years since Mydei took the throne, and, considering the previous king’s antecedents, there were still some cities that didn’t view Castrum Kremnos favorably — even though Mydei had openly declared before that he had no interest in showing unnecessary hostility to them. He could understand that. Wariness was not something that faded easily.

Moreover, the fact that Mydei was an omega without a partner despite being of marriageable age was becoming more noticeable by the day, not only to the council of elders but also to other cities. It was expected that Okhema, the most influential city in Amphoreus, would attempt such a move as an act of conciliation.

Yes, Mydei had anticipated such an outcome to a certain extent — though he had no intention of humoring them.

However, what he had not expected was to find a familiar name in that proposal.

When his eyes reached the part where Phainon’s name was written, they froze for a moment. Another second passed before he shifted in his seat and read the whole phrase again, carefully this time — as if to make sure he had read it correctly and it wasn’t just a lapse brought on by his recent lack of sleep.

But that wasn’t it. The name was still there. The quiet room seemed to grow even quieter. Placing the letter on the desk, Mydei leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.

It was truly unexpected. He let out a self-deprecating laugh. It had been years, and yet he still felt that uncalled-for over-eagerness when it came to that man.

The first time Mydei crossed paths with Phainon was four years ago.

He was sixteen then, merely a prince in name, traveling aimlessly between cities with his teacher to eliminate monsters along the borders.

On that particular occasion, they had to make an emergency stop in Okhema to gather supplies and — at Mydei’s insistence — seek medical attention for his teacher, who had recently been poisoned by a monster’s blood. Fortunately, a festival was taking place, and the lack of security made it relatively easy for them to slip into the city unnoticed.

After searching for a while, they found someone to treat his master, while Mydei took the opportunity to gather the supplies they needed. All that was left was to wait quietly for his teacher — now sleeping after the medicine had taken effect — to wake up so they could resume their journey.

That was what he was supposed to do, but instead, he slipped out of the inn where they were staying and began wandering the streets.

At first, he simply observed from a distance with curiosity: the market decorations, the food stalls, the relics on display, the outdoor competitions, the laughter of the crowd. However, at some point, he drifted closer, tasted some fruits, listened to a singer’s songs in the square, and somehow, ended up signing up for a sword-fighting competition he had come across while walking.

There was no reason; it just sort of happened. That day, he simply didn’t feel much like himself.

Mydei stood his ground in that stadium and defeated all his opponents until he reached the final stage of the competition. The cheers of the crowd echoed in his ears as he reentered the stadium for his last duel.

From a distance, he spotted his opponent. A boy entering the stadium from the opposite side, walking at a relaxed pace. As the distance between them closed, he could see him more clearly.

White hair, blue eyes that caught the sun’s rays perfectly, and a loose smile. Although he was a little taller than him, the childish features suggested that the age difference between them was not significant.

Mydei blinked once, impressed. It had to be the first time he had encountered someone so… dazzling? He wasn’t sure if that was the right word, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Since he was practically piercing the boy with his gaze, those bright eyes eventually met his, making him flinch. He masked the reaction with a frown, yet confusion gnawed at him as he became aware of his pounding heart. He could have understood if he were facing some big, hideous creature ready to tear him apart, yet this boy looked, at most, like a little white bird. So what was the problem with him?

Putting aside his own questions, Mydei noticed that the boy had stopped in his tracks the moment their eyes met, looking visibly surprised for some reason. He stayed like that for a few seconds, but it didn’t last. As if suddenly coming to his senses, he patted his cheek a couple of times with his free hand before resuming his steps until he was standing in front of him. The boy smiled again.

“I’d heard some things from the others, but… as expected, you can’t trust rumors—Hi there, my name is Phainon. Let’s have a good fight.”

The first sentence sounded like murmurs to himself, but Mydei, sharp as a lion, didn’t miss a thing. His frown deepened as he asked suspiciously, “...Do you know me?”

After the king went mad, the crown prince’s identity had practically become unknown, and only a handful of people knew his face. There was no way anyone here could know who he was.

It seemed that the boy had noticed Mydei's growing discomfort, as he hurried to explain, "Oh, no. I didn't mean that—I'm sorry. It's just that I heard some guys talking about some blond kid with scary eyes, so I didn't expect you to be so... Oh, no. Not that— Wait. It's not that I let myself be influenced by what other people say, I'm not that kind of..."

The boy’s face seemed to alternate between red and blue as he muttered, stumbling over his own words. Mydei hesitated for a moment, but his body eventually relaxed at how silly the boy looked. Instead, he began to feel overwhelmed—he had never met someone so talkative and didn’t know how to respond. In the end, he gave up and simply raised his sword at him. “Enough. Show me what you’ve got.”

“Yes.” The boy complied almost instantly, looking thoroughly mortified. He took a deep breath and mirrored Mydei’s posture.

A sudden tension hung in the air around them.

There was no way to tell who made the first move. Swords clashed with a metallic screech.

To Mydei’s surprise, despite his gentle appearance, the boy in front of him was stronger than expected. It was clear that Mydei had more experience—the boy’s movements were still slightly clumsy. However, his response time was fast. There were moments when Mydei managed to corner him, but the boy didn’t back down. He blocked every blow and counterattacked with all his strength, searching for any opening to gain the upper hand at all costs.

At some point, Mydei found himself smiling.

When was the last time he had this much fun? He wasn’t even sure he had ever felt like this before.

He didn’t know what it was, but there was something undeniably exhilarating about their exchange of blows—the way that boy moved, the way his expressions changed—, something about him that stirred something in Mydei.

A very unusual, refreshing feeling.

In the end, there was no winner.

Their duel had been interrupted by an incident in the crowd. Apparently, a commotion had broken out between two alphas, and the excessive release of pheromones was becoming a safety concern, forcing the competition to stop.

As a Kremnoan, it wasn’t a satisfying conclusion; yet, contrary to expectations, he wasn’t in a bad mood. Mydei simply glanced sideways at the boy walking silently beside him, quietly enjoying the silence.

When they reached the market entrance, the boy finally turned to look at him and spoke.

“…You know, it’s a shame. I really felt like I could have won that competition.”

Mydei scoffed. “Nonsense.”

“It’s true! I hadn’t even used my secret finishing move, so you got lucky this time.” The boy smiled confidently, then looked at him with wide, shining eyes. “…By the way, I’ve never seen anyone like you before! I admit your strength is very impressive. By any chance, do you want to become a hero too? Are you from around here?” Looking around, he added, “It’s a bit difficult to find a place to settle this tie with all these people… so how about staying with me for a while? I heard there’s going to be a play in the square…”

Mydei, secretly amused by the boy’s boldness but keeping a serious expression, was suddenly bombarded with question after question. He remained silent, unsure which to answer and which to ignore, until he paused and glanced at the sky. He realized it was almost dark.

Then he remembered—he wasn’t supposed to stay out this long in the first place.

Even though he didn’t feel like himself at that moment, it didn’t mean he stopped being him.

And he had to leave.

“What’s wrong?”

Mydei’s body tensed as he met the boy’s worried eyes, but it was inevitable. It was time to return to reality.

He let out a quiet sigh. “I have to go.”

There was a brief silence. The boy looked disappointed at first, but quickly shook it off and smiled. “It’s fine. There’s always tomorrow, isn’t there? Let’s have a rematch the next time we meet. The winner gets to ask for a wish. Deal?”

“…Sure. I'll start thinking about what to ask for, since it’s obvious who will win.”

A smile appeared on his face as he looked into the other’s bright eyes. Mydei knew it was unlikely they would meet again, but the selfish little lie on his lips felt sweet.

Mydei didn’t wait for a response. He turned and walked away. He might have heard the boy asking for his name behind him, but by then, he had already disappeared into the crowd, hoping his teacher hadn’t woken up and come looking for him.

And that was the end of it… or so he thought.

Contrary to his own belief, Mydei did see Phainon again—two years later.

Half a year had passed since Mydei was proclaimed the new king of Castrum Kremnos. He was visiting Okhema on official business to attend the annual conference of Amphoreus. Some diplomatic issues left unresolved by the previous king needed urgent attention, so he made the trip himself rather than sending someone else to expedite the process.

The truth is that there were far too many matters that demanded his attention, and he wasn’t even halfway through them.

It was probably meant to entertain the guests, but it so happened that a summer festival was taking place in Okhema at the same time as the conference. As memories came flooding back, Mydei couldn’t help but wonder. What would that boy be doing right now?

Perhaps he had shown more interest than he intended, because after the first discussion ended, Lady Aglaea, one of the few representatives whose company he felt relatively comfortable with, invited him to accompany her to one of the main events of the festival that day.

A relay race was about to begin on a large field. The first runners could be seen from afar, lining up at the starting line, torches in hand, waiting for the signal.

But what were the odds? The spot where Mydei was sitting offered the best view of the last runners from each team.

It was almost frightening how quickly he recognized him. It had been a long time, but he was certain.

A tall man with white hair and blue eyes stretched at the starting line. From time to time, he exchanged a few words with the other runners beside him and offered a polite smile.

Suddenly, as if sensing the persistent gaze on him, the man turned and looked in Mydei’s direction. Mydei held his breath but did not look away; his eyes were sharp.

It only took a moment for him to realize that the man wasn’t looking at him.

Phainon’s expression showed that he had recognized someone in the crowd. His polite demeanor nearly vanished as he waved his hand, smiling cheerfully while calling out a few words.

Mydei felt curious but didn’t look to the side. He remained entirely focused on Phainon.

Once again, he couldn’t make sense of the feelings inside him. His heart felt both relieved and dejected at the same time.

He was glad to see that Phainon was doing well, yet the more he looked at him, the stronger an inexplicable anger stirred within him, tangled with a dark, unsettling feeling—though that anger wasn’t directed at Phainon. At least, he could tell that much.

“I didn’t tell him I was coming, yet he found us anyway. He always notices quickly when someone is staring at him. Impressive, isn’t it?”

Mydei was abruptly pulled from his thoughts, startled by Lady Aglaea’s unexpectedly cheerful words, and turned to look at her. She seemed to interpret his gaze as a question, for she added, “Oh, right. It’s His Majesty’s first time here, so you probably don’t know him. That child in the field is Phainon, an apprentice I took on a few years ago. He’s a talented swordsman, but as you can see, he really enjoys outdoor activities. Now that I think about it, the situation at the border was…”

The conversation about Phainon eventually shifted to other topics. At some point, Mydei found himself watching Phainon once again as it was his turn to take the torch and run. Compared to the boy he remembered, his features were now clearly more defined, and his limbs had grown stronger. The traces of childish clumsiness from the past were gone, and he no longer resembled a little bird. He carried the distinctive elegance of a capable soldier.

However, one thing had not changed. Mydei smiled as he watched Phainon cross the finish line in first place, celebrating the victory with his teammates.

He was still the most dazzling person Mydei had ever seen.

With the competition over, it was time for the conference to resume, and naturally, Mydei had to return to reality once again.

Just as before, when he got ready to leave, he didn’t look back.

He returned to Castrum Kremnos and dedicated himself to working tirelessly alongside his closest aides for an entire year, day after day, until the city had finally stabilized enough to ensure the well-being of its people.

Less than a week had passed since he had returned from an inspection of the city limits.

During his absence, this seemingly unimpressive letter had arrived, leading him to his current involuntary session of self-reflection.

He had been insanely busy for a while and couldn’t afford to think about anything beyond his duties as king. But now that things had calmed down, Mydei had no choice but to admit that the thought of a man named Phainon still held some meaning for him, quietly waiting to be resolved.

It was the perfect time. Beating around the bush wasn’t his thing, so he simply did it—he brought the man.

The man didn’t seem to recognize him, but it was irrelevant, so he chose not to recognize him either.

He just pushed, and pushed, and pushed again—as if, by doing so, the man in front of him would somehow provide the answer to his own predicament.

And at the end, well…

…

He must have gotten caught in the moment. Otherwise, there was no plausible explanation for his hasty behavior.

He said yes without thinking much about it. He, of all people.

This wasn't what he had in mind when he allowed that audience, but what's done is done.

Besides, even if it was rash, the idea of keeping Phainon close didn’t seem bad to him. Both he and his inner self were rather satisfied with the outcome. But, putting that aside, there were a few things that needed to be discussed beforehand.

“I’ve already given my word, but I believe it is important to go over the relevant information for both of us before sending back this letter. So listen carefully.”

While drafting his formal response to Okhema, Mydei suddenly stopped. He set his quill down on the table and looked up to see Phainon standing in front of his desk. The latter straightened at the sound of his voice and met his gaze, waiting silently.

Once he was certain he had Phainon’s full attention, Mydei said bluntly, “I can’t sense pheromones.”

Silence settled between them for a moment.

Phainon blinked a couple of times without taking his eyes off him. Then he lowered his head for a few seconds and finally, as if coming to a conclusion, clasped his hands together with a smile.

“Ah. Your Majesty means mine? I just remembered. I’m wearing scent suppressants right now. It’s a habit I keep because of my missions, so it’s a little difficult now...”

The expression on Phainon’s face turned worried as he ran a hand over his neck.

…Maybe he hadn’t been clear enough. But he wasn’t Perdikkas; he couldn’t offer an elaborate explanation even if he tried. Mydei sighed and shook his head, then tried to put it another way.

“I’m not talking about suppressants. Biologically, I’m an omega, but I can’t smell or react to other people’s pheromones. You could say I’m unaffected by them.”

Contrary to what most people believed, Mydei hadn’t hidden his secondary gender until it eventually leaked to the public. In truth, the news spread quickly soon after his manifestation as an omega, when the council of elders began pressuring him to find a mate.

Mydei’s manifestation came late, at nineteen—and with it, a body insensitive to pheromones.

Leaving aside the fact that, back then, he barely had time to sleep, marriage was the last of his priorities. And with his condition, there was an undeniable truth he had come to understand simply by observing those around him: the tales of bonds between alphas and omegas that everyone spoke of were just that to him. Stories.

For others, it might have been different, but for the Kremnos royalty, mating had always been nothing less than a transaction between conquerors and the conquered.

But even if that had always been the case until now, he had little intention of making that kind of transaction. He wanted to be fair. Mydei knew, as a simple matter of fact, that compared to other omegas, he had less to offer. So he was prepared to give something in return to keep that balance—whatever it might be. Probably.

 
He viewed Phainon favorably, and regardless of the latter’s reasons, Phainon had approached him of his own accord.

So he would make it work—for both of them.

“I know that bonding is instinctively important to alphas, and it will be difficult for you in some ways. So think carefully about—”

“Your Majesty. Please—wait.” Phainon’s voice cut in, sharp with urgency and concern.

Well, look at that. It wasn’t even official yet, and already manners were being thrown out the window. Mydei frowned, his irritation at the interruption plain, but the other man didn’t seem to notice—or simply didn’t care. Instead, Phainon’s eyes searched every corner of his face, as if trying to uncover something hidden there. Then, after drawing a long breath, he asked.

“Do you like me?”

“What?”

“Face, body, skills, or personality. Anything counts. Is there anything you like about me? Even if it’s just a little.”

Phainon’s face remained calm as he waited for an answer. Mydei, however, caught off guard by such an unexpected question at such an unexpected moment, opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again without a sound. Though still irritated by the sudden detour in the conversation, he took the question seriously, turning it over in his mind for a moment.

He found Phainon’s presence pleasant, that much was certain. 

But what did he actually like about him? He wasn’t entirely sure. Objectively speaking, he barely knew the man. 

Face, body, combat skills—those were all undeniably good. About personality... for that, he would need to look a little deeper before he could give an answer.

He wasn’t entirely sure, but after a moment of careful consideration, Mydei nodded and looked directly at Phainon.

“Yes, you could say that.”

The vague answer seemed to satisfy Phainon, who smiled warmly.

“Then that’s good enough for me.”

Pointing to his own nose, Phainon added, “Actually, my sense of smell is more sensitive than average, so I usually use special suppressants to avoid getting dizzy. Doesn’t that make us somewhat similar? —What I’m trying to say is, if you’re okay with me, then I have no complaints or special requests. I’m just a mere soldier, so simply being by His Majesty’s side as his mate would be my greatest honor.”

His words baffled Mydei. Not because of the flattery, but because of what they implied.

“…You went so far as to say that you would give me all of yourself, yet there’s nothing you want from this marriage? Are you really that loyal to Okhema?”

Phainon tilted his head, as if Mydei’s words seemed strange. “Well, although the diplomatic aspect is important, I wouldn’t say I’m getting nothing.”

“And what exactly is that?”

“Hmhm. Who knows? Maybe I could specially find an answer for His Majesty after we get married.”

How cheeky. Those eyes, that smile, and that seemingly polite tone, anything but polite.

And yet, Mydei didn’t hate it.    

He couldn’t figure Phainon out, but there was no point in dwelling on it.

He’d have plenty of time to understand him later anyway—as mates.

Mydei looked away from Phainon and let out a small chuckle as he picked up the quill again to finish the letter. “All right, if that’s what you want.”

And with that, the marriage agreement was successfully completed.