Erger struggled to keep the dazed look from showing on his face. It was infuriating — but he had to admit it. Damn it all, the exterior of Liard Igvaltwyn was devastatingly his type. Enough to make even him, someone who rarely paid attention to another person’s looks, completely lose his head.
A face is just a face. Don’t let yourself be fooled by that pure, refined appearance. Erger steeled himself and opened his mouth.
“Your Majesty is far more beautiful than I am.”
“Myself?”
Liard laughed softly, as though he had just heard the most amusing thing.
Is he serious — why does he have to laugh like that? Erger did not want his racing heart to be noticed. He took a slow, deep breath and tried not to study Liard too closely. His gaze kept drifting back regardless, and the resolve he had set crumbled each time.
Liard wore the imperial wedding attire in the same design as Erger’s, but in a different color. His was cut from fabric as deeply black as his hair, with silver embroidery stitched across it.
And around his brow, he wore a circlet fitted with delicate silver ornaments. Who had thought to put something like that on the Emperor? It was the kind of sight that stirred thoughts he had no business entertaining.
Liard curved just the corners of his lips into a smile and spoke.
“Being compared to someone as fresh and young as you — I find that rather embarrassing.”
There was an unhurried ease to Liard’s words. Erger was overtaken by a strange sense of defeat. And something of a hollow feeling as well. How many times had he tormented himself over the past fortnight?
He had harbored foolish hope — wandering the courtyard of the Imperial Consort’s quarters on the off chance that Liard might come to see him today. Walking the small garden had brought a creeping melancholy. At this very hour, the Emperor has surely forgotten someone like me entirely and is buried in his own work.
Every few days, Shuria would stop by to ask after him — and each time, he had pretended not to care while straining his ears, hoping she might let slip some news of what Liard had been up to. Of course, nothing of substance ever came of it.
In this vast and desolate imperial palace, there was no one Erger could lean on. His entire circle of relationships was confined to the Mage Tower. The servants he saw every day were not friends — they were bound to him by a strict hierarchy.
In any case, unlike him — who had arrived here soaked in all the complicated feelings he had been drowning in — Liard looked utterly composed and unbothered, like a proper adult. Erger felt a surge of emotion and almost snapped at him, but held it back. That would really make me look like a child.
Instead, Erger seized Liard’s outstretched hand with a sudden, firm grip. The abruptness and force of it must have startled even Liard — he gave a barely perceptible flinch.
The moment he felt Liard’s composure waver, the suffocating tightness in his chest eased just a little. The Emperor’s hand was firm and calloused — clearly the hand of someone who had held a sword for many years.
Yet overall, it was smaller than Erger’s. Erger’s hands and feet were just as oversized as the rest of him.
Liard looked down at their joined hands with a quiet, unfamiliar expression — as though the sensation of someone else’s hand completely enclosing his was something he wasn’t used to. Erger deliberately squeezed tighter, kneading the Emperor’s hand in his grip.
“Your hand is cold.”
“……Is it. I suppose I’m a little nervous.”
At those words, Erger found himself smiling without meaning to.
“Your Majesty gets nervous?”
Liard gave a faint smile and nodded.
“I do. I’ve simply learned not to show it.”
The knowledge that Liard had been nervous before the wedding brought Erger something close to joy. The knot lodged deep inside him seemed to loosen just slightly.
“Your hand is extremely warm.”
“I run hot.”
“You must have had quite a hard time at the Mage Tower then. I’ve heard the summers there are far hotter than in the capital.”
“I lived with a cooling spell on at all times.”
“Ah — of course. That would work.”
Liard blinked, mildly surprised, and gave a slow nod. Exchanging such an ordinary, everyday conversation with the Emperor left Erger with a strange feeling he couldn’t quite name. So he’s someone you can talk to like this……
Not like the ten-minute exchange in the audience chamber, rattled off like items being cleared from a backlog. He found himself suddenly wondering what it would be like to sit across from Liard at a meal, or walk through a garden trading words. Like an ordinary married couple. The thought came to him out of nowhere.
Or perhaps the quiet exchange that follows intimacy, lying in bed together afterward. The instant the thought crossed his mind, every nerve in his body seemed to concentrate on the point where his skin met Liard’s. His body, already warm by nature, grew warmer still.
It didn’t seem to be pheromones — and yet there was a pleasant scent coming from Liard beside him. Was it perfume? Or the natural scent of his skin? Erger caught himself before he could absent-mindedly tilt his head toward Liard.
The long-simmering resentment from being left to himself in the Imperial Consort’s quarters was melting away, moment by moment. Erger had wanted to look at Liard with sharp, hostile eyes — but it wasn’t proving easy at all.
Was it because, beneath that commanding face, there was a subtle, quiet exhaustion showing through? Or because, standing right beside him, the Emperor who had seemed so imposing turned out to be shorter than he was? Or was it because of the hand that gave the occasional faint flinch beneath his palm……?
Just then, the sound of percussion came from inside the chapel. A low, resonant strike — the signal that the ceremony was beginning. Then the graceful strains of strings followed beneath it.
“Shall we go in.”
Liard murmured softly, and with a slight incline of his head, gestured toward the doors. Erger, his face faintly flushed, took the first step forward. The chapel doors swung open, and at the far end of the wedding aisle, the altar awaited with a priest standing ready.
Once they had exchanged their vows there, they would truly become husband and husband. And tonight, the wedding night would follow.
He would finally be able to release his pheromones for the first time — pheromones that were like poison to anyone who wasn’t a perfect match. Erger walked a half-step ahead of Liard. Thud, thud. His heart beat roughly. The hand joined with Liard’s grew subtly damp with sweat. It embarrassed him.
Then, glancing sideways, he caught sight of Liard’s neat lashes trembling. He too was visibly nervous.
Good. Erger felt his tension ease, and squeezed Liard’s hand tighter. The moment he felt Liard flinch again, his pulse quickened further.
This was the moment that the marriage he had spent ten years desperately wanting to avoid became real. Even with his heart still bruised from being disregarded more thoroughly than he had imagined — he was looking forward to tonight.
It would be his first night with his omega, proclaimed before a god no less. Skin against skin was said to be the finest form of bonding. So perhaps, after tonight, things might unfold differently than they had until now…… somehow, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope.
As though he wanted to give meaning to what was, in the end, a marriage in name only.
The wedding ceremony proceeded simply. It followed imperial protocol to the letter, but the number of guests was kept to a minimum. The reception banquet was omitted entirely.
The moment the ceremony concluded, Liard returned to his study in the outer palace. He attended to his official duties as usual before making his way to the inner palace. And then he began his preparations. Preparations to receive an alpha.
When the appointed time came, the servants would escort Erger to the bedchamber. Before that, Liard bathed and applied scented oil to himself below.
It had been ten days since he stopped taking his suppressants and libido inhibitors. So when he came into contact with an alpha, his body would naturally grow slick on its own — but there was no harm in being thoroughly prepared.
Whether his body would actually be capable of feeling anything properly was another question. He pushed the scene from the prophecy to the back of his mind. It might have been feigned cries all along……
He only needed to conceive a child. Liard ran through the basic tenets of reproductive knowledge in his head.
The probability of conception was highest when both partners’ heat and rut cycles overlapped. It would be even better if the alpha remained knotted inside him through to completion.
Even so, conception was not easy for those of the extreme-dominant presentation. Even dozens of joinings between two extreme-dominant partners might not be enough.
For the past several days, Liard had been brewing and drinking medicinal herbs said to aid conception. His mind was consumed by a single thought: he had to produce an heir as soon as possible. Before his body’s lifespan ran out.
Tonight’s act carried no meaning beyond that. He must not allow himself to share any unnecessary sentiment. They say that when bodies join, hearts naturally follow……
A book titled The Complete Practical Guide to Improving Marital Relations had said so. That if a husband and wife gazed into each other’s eyes, pressed their bodies close together, and made love, affection would blossom between them. The positions most conducive to that outcome had been described in detail, complete with illustrations.
It had been a cheap publication, but it had apparently become enormously popular in the capital and gone into its twelfth printing — and so he had obtained a copy and read it this time around. With the intention of doing the exact opposite of everything it recommended, so as to prevent any warmth from developing between them.
With that in mind, Liard had made one arrangement in the bedchamber. He had hung a length of fabric from the ceiling, dividing the bed down the middle. This way, only his lower half would be exposed to Erger on the other side of the cloth. He had no intention of letting their faces meet.
After all, for the purpose of conceiving a child, only the lower halves needed to meet.
He also believed Erger would prefer a quick, practical encounter over being forced to perform affectionate acts toward him. The sooner it was over and Liard conceived, the sooner Erger would be free to leave the palace.
Lined up beside the bed were servants and Imperial Guards. They had come to witness the Emperor’s wedding night.
Until a few generations ago, witnesses at the Emperor’s wedding night had been a required formality. That custom had since been abolished as excessive — but Liard had seized upon it and revived the old tradition with satisfaction.
In an environment like this, there was absolutely no chance of anything like the prophecy coming to pass.
Liard lay back on the bed, feeling privately pleased with his own preparations. Then he spoke in a low, calm voice.
“Bring the Imperial Consort in.”
His voice was composed — but his expression had gone slightly rigid. For some reason, it felt as though the hand that had been clasped with Erger’s earlier was still flinching.
That solid, large palm. The sensation of those prominent knuckles pressing into his skin had been oddly affecting.
Was it because he’d stopped the libido inhibitor? His nerves seemed far too sensitized. To be this aware of someone just from holding an alpha’s hand once. He was glad, again, that he had decided to hang the fabric to cover his upper half. Even if his face should become unsightly in the middle of things, the cloth would keep him hidden.
