After putting on all his garments except for the jacket, Lorenz was fastening his wristwatch when he suddenly covered the right side of his face with his large hand and grimaced. It was due to a severe migraine, as if an awl were piercing his temple.
A hypersensitive sense of smell and extreme headaches. These were the most prominent symptoms of the illness he suffered from.
With long, agitated strides, he headed toward the bedroom connected to the dressing room.
Lorenz pulled out a small device from the drawer of the bedside table next to the bed. Smaller than his pinky finger and shaped like a smooth bullet, it was a portable scanner that measured Pheromone Response Level (PRL)¹⁾. To Lorenz, it felt like a part of his body that he always had to carry with him.
His movements were practiced as he turned on the scanner and brought it to the area behind his ear, where his body temperature was highest.
Immediately, with a faint vibration, the reading appeared.
PRL 50 — No wonder his physical condition was far from fine. It wasn’t at a dangerous level, but it was outside the normal range.
He immediately rummaged through the cabinet looking for medication. The prescribed suppressants were running low. It meant it was time to visit the hospital again.
His brow furrowed even more irritably at the thought.
It’s an incurable disease anyway. What’s the point of diligently recording readings and symptoms, or meeting with a doctor periodically?
However, complaining wouldn’t change anything. Over-the-counter suppressants that could be obtained without a prescription no longer had any effect.
Just as he was closing the cabinet door, he heard a knock.
It was Margaret, the head housekeeper.
“Lord Lorenz, you’re already finished preparing.”
Lorenz Lockhart pulled out a water bottle from the small refrigerator and asked quickly in a stiff tone.
“Margaret, is the person managing my laundry an Omega by any chance?”
“What do you mean all of a sudden?”
“There’s a smell. An unbearably foul smell.”
Reading his displeased expression, Margaret went to the dressing room and picked up a shirt that had been thrown in the laundry basket. She was also an Alpha, but she couldn’t detect any pheromones at all, nor could she smell anything particularly special.
When she returned to the bedroom, Lorenz was just swallowing a pill with water.
“Are you referring to the shirt, perhaps?”
Lorenz nodded without answering.
“If you could describe the smell specifically, I’ll pass it along.”
“Are you saying there’s no smell at all?”
His voice immediately sharpened, as if he couldn’t believe it.
“If I had to point something out, there’s only a very faint steam smell that can occur from ironing.”
“Steam smell or whatever it is, I can’t stand it. The person managing my laundry, or the person managing my room… If any of them are Omegas, change their assignments.”
“Lord Lorenz.”
Margaret’s gray-blue eyes gazed at Lorenz with a resolute light.
During his childhood, he had been a child who could handle any duty given to him, but he would occasionally feign illness to avoid piano lessons. And each time, she had never indulged him. Her gaze wasn’t much different from those days.
“Alphas, Omegas, and Betas all work at the estate. Everyone is doing their utmost to ensure Lord Lorenz can live comfortably. Of course, all Alpha and Omega employees are taking suppressants in accordance with government health regulations. Moreover, you know very well that ordinary smells that aren’t pheromones cannot trigger your symptoms, don’t you? It’s impossible.”
Impossible…
Theoretically, Lorenz understood that. But in practice, it wasn’t the case.
“When the response level rises, my sense of smell itself becomes sensitive. I can’t tolerate any artificial smell, not just pheromones.”
At Lorenz’s pained voice, Margaret this time changed direction to a more gentle persuasion.
“You’ve had a lot on your mind lately. You’ve probably become temporarily sensitive because your condition is poor.”
She glanced at the water remaining after Lorenz took his medication and added.
“Is your level high?”
“It’s 50.”
“Your headache must be severe as well.”
“It feels like someone is driving a stake into my head. I’m going insane.”
Lorenz turned around, pressing his temples. Then, moving toward the dressing room, he asked.
“How is Lucas?”
“There’s no particular change.”
“He still won’t come out of his room.”
“Yes.”
“Still not speaking either?”
“…Yes.”
After his father Damon Lockhart’s death, young Lucas had shut himself in his room.
He had been a somewhat introverted but quiet and obedient child, but when they tried to get him to leave his room, he would scream as if he’d seen a ghost. Because of this, he had been having all his meals in his room.
For some reason, the child had also closed his mouth.
Lorenz had heard that the child’s silence had begun shortly before his father passed away.
Since the child wouldn’t say anything, there was no way to even find out what the cause was.
“I’m wondering if having him attend the funeral might have been too much.”
Margaret’s voice was concerned as she followed Lorenz. However, Lorenz stated firmly.
“Even so, I couldn’t let him not attend his father’s funeral.”
“Well… I suppose that’s true.”
Margaret reluctantly agreed and cast her gaze on Lorenz’s back as he put on his jacket. Then carefully, but with a hopeful nuance, she spoke.
“There is some good news.”
“Good news?”
A bitter voice tinged with mockery, as if such a thing couldn’t possibly exist.
Lorenz, having donned his jacket, looked at Margaret with an expression devoid of expectation as he fastened the buttons.
“We received contact from Dr. Morgan at the Child Counseling Center.”
Only then did Lorenz show interest, and Margaret continued.
“She says there’s a counselor she can recommend.”
“Probably someone with insufficient experience.”
“We did decide to lower our standards. But if it’s someone Dr. Morgan recommended, I think we can trust them.”
After the funeral, Lorenz Lockhart had decided to hire a professional for Lucas’s problem.
Even though they were legally brothers, Lucas was a child that his father Damon Lockhart had adopted about two years ago. Not only was there a significant age gap between him and Lorenz, but they had never even lived in the same house together. Their relationship consisted of seeing each other at family events and exchanging formal greetings. In other words, there was virtually no emotional bond between Lorenz and Lucas. So the idea of directly resolving the child’s problems was unthinkable.
The only person the child deeply relied on in this house was Margaret. Just as Lorenz had in his childhood. But she had many responsibilities as the head housekeeper of this estate. She couldn’t devote herself solely to the child.
Lorenz wanted someone who would move into the estate to observe and support Lucas’s daily life. Receiving counseling just once or twice a week for only an hour or two didn’t seem like it would improve the situation.
However, most counselors were already running their own centers or working at centers while handling multiple children. It was impossible for them to move in and care exclusively for one child. Because of this, Lorenz and Margaret had decided to lower their conditions.
“Will you meet them?”
“I think Margaret will have to meet them in my place.”
“You won’t conduct the interview yourself?”
“You have a more accurate eye than I do. If Margaret judges them to be suitable, I’ll be able to trust that.”
“Or should we conduct the interview after you return from your business trip?”
“That would only delay things further. There’s nothing good about that.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, Lorenz turned his gaze toward the window half-covered by curtains. Despite the generous size of the window thanks to the high ceiling, the bright sunlight overflowing in the streets couldn’t reach deep into Lorenz’s room.
Margaret answered quietly toward his back.
“Understood. I’ll meet them first and then report to you.”
“Thank you, Margaret.”
***
¹⁾ Pheromone Response Level (PRL): Indicates the degree of response to another person’s pheromones. Normal range is between 20-40. The higher the number, the more dangerous it becomes.
