Chapter 27: The Consort (3)

Anok forced the slightly stiff corners of his mouth to curve upward.

“Thank you… for saying that.”

The long breath he exhaled was laced with a faint heat. It seemed his heat cycle would begin in earnest before the day was out.

“Anok-nim, are you ready?”

The voice asking from outside belonged to Court Lady Jo. When Anok gave his assent, the doors swung open immediately. Court ladies entered, supporting him on both sides to help him walk.

Befitting the nature of Yeo Jae-won, who despised making a noisy fuss over a grand wedding, the front courtyard of the main residence was occupied by only a small number of distinguished guests.

In his past life, he hadn’t even known who had attended; he had been too busy tracing over the steps he had practiced with Court Lady Jo. Now endowed with a relative composure, however, Anok subtly swept his gaze over the guests.

Among them stood Hyeon Sang-eun, a scholar of the Hanlin Academy. Naturally, the face of Noble Consort Seong from his past life flickered across his mind. The father and daughter shared remarkably similar features, making it impossible not to associate him with Hyeon Hui-yeon.

The person who coveted my position… and murdered my child.

Before he realized it, the hand Anok used to hold his ceremonial scepter trembled faintly.

“You must look straight ahead.”

The court lady supporting Anok whispered in a hushed tone. It seemed his head had drifted sideways along with his gaze. Anok naturally shifted his eyes back to the front.

And there stood Yeo Jae-won.

Beyond the ceremonial crown draped with nine rows of jade beads, his pristine countenance came into view. The features that so often stole Anok’s gaze seemed uniquely striking today, framed by the imperial ceremonial robes.

Despite his desire to remain indifferent to such a sight, Anok found himself staring at Yeo Jae-won as if possessed, his heart thumping wildly against his ribs, before he finally cast his eyes down.

Following the sequence of the ritual, Anok’s investiture as the Imperial Consort commenced. While the Chief Eunuch of Seonghwa Hall—who had arrived at the Myeong Prince’s manor early in the morning—recited the imperial edict of investiture, Yeo Jae-won remained steadfastly by the kneeling Anok’s side.

“……We hereby invest Seol Anok of the Baekya Clan as the primary Consort of the Third Prince, the Prince of Myeong.”

“Your Imperial Majesty’s benevolence is boundless.”

Once Anok offered his deep bows toward the direction of the Imperial Palace and accepted the edict, the Chief Eunuch of Seonghwa Hall extended the scroll, bound in golden silk, with a warm smile.

“My warmest congratulations to both Your Highnesses. To witness the marriage of the Prince of Myeong… truly, it brings a profound wave of emotion.”

Having passed his twentieth year, the prince’s capping ceremony and marriage had been repeatedly delayed for various reasons. When he finally prepared to wed, the Crown Prince met an untimely demise, forcing him to observe a three-year mourning period in place of his nephew. Consequently, the Prince of Myeong had long surpassed the typical age for marriage. Though Anok understood the underlying meaning behind the Chief Eunuch’s words, he merely offered a polite smile, feigning ignorance.

“Thank you for traveling all the way to my manor so early in the day.”

It was Yeo Jae-won who spoke on his behalf, accepting the greeting. Having fulfilled his duty of delivering the imperial edict, the Chief Eunuch of Seonghwa Hall was guided away by Attendant O to be received at the banquet tables.

Now that the imperial edict had been conferred, the most critical phase of the ceremony was effectively complete. Perhaps because he had been unconsciously bracing himself, the fever he had briefly forgotten began to surge with a more frantic intensity.

A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him, threatening to fracture his vision. When Anok closed his eyes tightly for a brief moment and blinked them open, he saw Yeo Jae-won standing nearby, his silhouette framed against the bright sunlight.

Fortunately, the guests had already relocated to receive their banquet tables, leaving only the servants standing by to assist with the clean-up.

“Are you alright?”

“……Yes.”

“It would be wise for you to rest until the sun sets.”

“But…….”

“I have no desire to witness a funeral on my wedding day.”

Was his rationality truly eroding under the fever of his heat? Unlike the version of the prince he had observed over the past few days, seeing Yeo Jae-won adopt that cold, severe countenance—precisely as he had in his past life—stirred an unexpected pang of sorrow within Anok. In truth, he had spent seven years in his previous life viewing that very expression as normal, yet…

Terrified that some foolish words might spill out, Anok pressed his lips firmly together. In an instant, the court ladies approached, grasping both his arms to support his weight.

The place Anok returned to after concluding the ceremony was not the detached pavilion, but Unyeong Hall, the inner residence. While the detached pavilion was already grander and far more meticulously adorned than the thatched cottage or the Baekya estate where he had previously resided, the sheer scale of the inner residence belonged to an entirely different realm.

It had been an incredibly long time since he last set foot here. Anok wished to lose himself in a momentary wave of nostalgia, but Court Lady Jo and the servants swarmed him so aggressively that he was granted no such luxury.

After stripping away the heavy ceremonial robes and immersing himself in the bath to cleanse anew, the preparations began not for a wedding, but for the bridal night. Suppressing a fierce urge to snap right in the face of Court Lady Jo—who continuously scrutinized his condition—that everything would unfold precisely as she desired, Anok labored desperately to rein in his wildly fluctuating emotions.

The sheer night tunic was so thin it felt almost embarrassing to classify as a single layer of clothing, but thankfully, a translucent crimson robe was layered over it. Though he was relieved of the suffocating phoenix crown, his freshly washed and long, draping hair was pinned with a small, alternative golden crown, over which a thin red silk veil, matching his outer robe, was draped to cover his face.

By the time these exhaustive preparations drew to a close, the sun had thoroughly vanished below the horizon.

Having been ushered into the bridal chamber first, Anok stared through the open window toward the western sky, which had bled into a profound ink-black. The sight seemed to alleviate a fraction of the suffocating weight in his chest, but even that comfort vanished as Court Lady Jo promptly shut the window, sealing the room.

By now, the fever had entirely claimed his body, leaving the rims of his eyes flushed a crimson red, though the veil obscuring his face kept it hidden from public view. The servants who entered to arrange the ceremonial liquor and tables were all betas, rendering them entirely oblivious to the fact that Anok’s heat had actively commenced.

“His Highness, the Prince of Myeong, is entering.”

At Attendant Seok’s resounding announcement, Anok’s entire frame locked with rigid tension. The memory of the chillingly indifferent Yeo Jae-won from his past life—confronting an Omega trapped in the throes of heat—surged naturally to the forefront of his mind.

That frigid, detached gaze that looked upon him as if viewing something grotesque and repulsive; that flat, monotone voice completely devoid of cadence. Merely recalling it induced a violent shudder of chills, as if the blood were actively draining from his toes.

“…….”

The sound of the doors sliding open and Yeo Jae-won stepping across the threshold felt agonizingly prolonged. Strung tight with anxiety, Anok rose from his seat before the round table where the liquor had been set.

His fever-addled body had become hyper-aware, instinctively seeking out the presence of an Alpha.

Yeo Jae-won had undoubtedly locked down his scent to near-extinction, yet an infinitesimal trace inevitably bled through the cracks of his control.

The primal instincts of an Omega entering heat instantly captured that minute trace of pheromones. A sensation akin to someone stoking a fire deep within his belly erupted, spreading a maddening itch throughout his core. Feeling his fingers and toes curling inward against his will, Anok bit down hard on his lower lip.

The prince’s approaching footsteps were excruciatingly slow. He would likely leave the veil over his face untouched, deliver whatever cold words he intended to say, and turn on his heel to depart. Anok swallowed hard against his dry throat and slowly lifted his head.

Surely, Yeo Jae-won could not be blind to his state. Ravaged by the fever of his cycle, Anok was losing the capacity to govern his own pheromones, causing them to leak into the air in a far greater volume than usual.

As anticipated, Yeo Jae-won’s countenance was carved into a frigid, unyielding expression. He remained silent for a moment before his brow twitched into a subtle frown. Reading the analytical calculation in his eyes, Anok forced words out alongside a hot, ragged exhale.

“Did I not inform you… that I am an Omega?”

“…….”

“What Your Highness is deducing is correct. My heat… has indeed begun…….”

Anok could not finish his sentence. Yeo Jae-won, who had been standing a couple of paces away, closed the distance between them in a single, sweeping stride.

Instantly, a crisp, cooling fragrance enveloped his entire body. It was the distinct, unmistakable scent belonging exclusively to Yeo Jae-won.

Dynamics were trained to govern their pheromones so meticulously that the act of suppression became near-unconscious. Conversely, releasing one’s scent was an act typically performed with deliberate intent, unless one was trapped within their own cycle.

Yet, Yeo Jae-won had actively unleashed his scent. An invisible, insatiable thirst tore through Anok’s veins, threatening to consume his entire being. Cast helplessly into the vortex of that sensory assault, Anok could not control the wide, trembling expansion of his eyes.

What followed shattered his expectations entirely. In his past life, Yeo Jae-won had done nothing but hurl cold edicts before turning away with freezing indifference. But now, the prince reached out and swept away the red veil obscuring Anok’s face.

Though nothing blocked his view, his fever-blurred eyes struggled to focus on the face before him.

The face of the man he had loved above all else.

On a helpless instinct, Anok extended his hand. It was nothing more than a hollow, self-deprecating smirk, but a faint dimple carved itself into Yeo Jae-won’s right cheek—the one Anok’s hand had failed to cup. The cheek he actually held felt remarkably cool against his palm, and the prince’s deep voice resonated with an unexpected, fluid softness.

Why wasn’t he shoving him away? This was a man who should have violently repelled him the instant he realized the situation and marched out of the room.

Tracing the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, Yeo Jae-won took hold of the hand cupping his cheek and gently drew it downward.

“Truly, my Consort…….”

“…….”

“You are utterly reckless.”

Anok blinked his eyelids with leaden slowness. The hand pinned within Yeo Jae-won’s grasp felt as though it were burning alive.

Through the hazy distortion of his fever, the expression stamped across Yeo Jae-won’s features became even more impossible to decipher. It fueled a deep, agonizing confusion, breeding a sharp anxiety. In fact, he found himself wishing the prince would simply strike him away and turn his back with cold detachment—precisely like the man he knew so well.

The prominent contour of his throat bobbed with a fragile, shuddering motion. The eyes turned up toward Yeo Jae-won were heavy, saturated with moisture born from an unquenchable, feverish heat.

“I am certain I made myself clear before.”

Anok felt as though a vast, deep-blue shroud was gently wrapping around his frame. It was undoubtedly the work of Yeo Jae-won’s pheromones.

A poignant question pierced through his haze: Am I truly permitted to wrap myself in such a luxury? Allowing that raw vulnerability to bare itself completely across his features, Anok slowly stepped backward, guided entirely by Yeo Jae-won’s imposing advance.

“That I despise Omegas.”

The deep voice coiled around his ears like a venomous serpent. The words, weaponized by that voice, pierced his eardrums like fangs. He was already clinging to the absolute precipice of his sanity. To hear that explicit declaration of hatred repeated now—when the fever of his heat made it impossible to govern his impulses and emotions—carved a raw, agonizing laceration into Anok’s soul.

It was a reality he already knew intimately, yet having Yeo Jae-won articulate it directly to his face a second time proved profoundly wounding.

How does he know exactly how to shatter me so completely?

Why, even across lifetimes, am I continually swayed and broken by a single word, a single gesture from this man?

Anok desperately tried to wrench his hand free from Yeo Jae-won’s grip. He felt a maddening urge to hate him to the point of insanity, yet because he was entirely incapable of summoning pure hatred, he wished his entire body would simply combust into ash instead.

“And yet, you reveal so recklessly and submissively that your heat has arrived…….”

As Anok thrashed in a desperate bid to break free, he suddenly felt the backs of his thighs collide heavily against a solid edge. As he spun his head around in startled bewilderment, Yeo Jae-won pressed down firmly on his shoulders, forcing him to sit upon the edge of the bed before slowly removing the heavy golden crown from his head.

“What exactly is occupying that small head of yours?”

“……?”

“Do you wish to be cast out?”

Perhaps it would be far better to simply lay everything bare. He felt a desperate urge to fall to his knees and beg, confessing everything—telling him that he could not endure another lifetime of torment by his side, and pleading with the prince to grant him the mercy of an escape.

Yet, the moment the hypothesis of Yeo Jae-won truly casting him out took a concrete shape in his mind, his insides twisted with a violent spasm. He knew with absolute certainty that he would spend the remainder of this second existence endlessly tracing the hollow image of that departing back.

If that was the case, what choice could he possibly make that would spare him from regret? Remaining by Yeo Jae-won’s side would only ensure the identical nightmare repeated itself.

Even through the vortex of his thoughts, the biological instinct compelling his body to react to the Alpha standing before him filled him with intense loathing. Anok gritted his teeth firmly. No matter how elegant and striking his lines appeared, the prince was fundamentally a man; the sharp contour of his jawline tensed with rigid definition.

“Ah.”

Having thrust his face dangerously close to demand an answer, Yeo Jae-won lingered in a brief, heavy silence before letting loose a soft, hollow sigh of realization, drawing his upper body back. Unlike Anok, who sat perched on the edge of the mattress, Yeo Jae-won stood perfectly erect, causing the distance between their gazes to widen significantly more than usual.

That arrogant, condescending gaze looking down upon him.

Through his blurred vision, it overlapped perfectly with the exact look the prince had directed at him within the ancestral shrine of Gyoyeong Palace, staring down at him as he knelt before their child’s mortuary tablet.

“Is it because you wish to flee back to the Baekya estate? To go and meet your lover?”

Despite not having consumed a lethal poison, Anok felt a sudden, violent surge of something boiling up from his core. He tensed his throat with all his might to suppress it. The strain was immense, causing the veins along his neck to bulge prominently as the blood rushed to his skin, leaving his face deathly pale.

In that exact moment, Yeo Jae-won’s hand gently cupped Anok’s chin, forcing his head upward.

“Say something, my Consort. ……Offer an excuse to deny it, or speak up to confirm it.”

Formal honorifics and informal speech tangled together in a bizarre, erratic weave. Anok could perceive that Yeo Jae-won was tightly reining in some powerful emotion, but he possessed no capacity to fathom what it truly was.

He merely sensed that the time remaining for him to maintain cognitive, rational thought was rapidly evaporating. His hazy vision began to warp and fracture from the edges, his focus slipping away repeatedly.

Remaining in such close, physical proximity with Yeo Jae-won any longer was catastrophic. While it was true that no Alpha could remain entirely unfazed when confronted with an Omega undergoing heat, there was absolutely no scenario where Yeo Jae-won would willingly claim him here.

Wrenching his body further back to extricate himself from the prince’s touch, Anok let loose a sharp, ragged gasp—his frame reacting with hyper-sensitivity to even that microscopic point of contact—and averted his face.

“Ha…….”

Yeo Jae-won, who had looked poised to hold his ground until he extracted an answer, deeply exhaled and turned around, finally recognizing that Anok’s condition had veered into truly perilous territory.

With every slow blink of his eyelids, it felt as though hot grains of sand were scraping across the undersides of his fevered eyes. Yet, Anok fought desperately to sharpen his fractured vision, forcing himself to look up at the prince.

It was happening again. He was left staring exclusively at the man’s back. It was only natural, given that Yeo Jae-won had turned away. In fact, it was an image far more familiar to him than the rare moments the prince actually met his eyes. Despite that reality, his heart seemed to plunge into a bottomless abyss.

He had genuinely believed that across two lifetimes, he would be the one to reject the position by his side—that this time, he would be the one to abandon the prince…… Yet, despite it being his own heart, not a single one of his grand resolutions had manifested.

Before long, even Yeo Jae-won’s retreating figure began to grow distant.

Of course. Even if Yeo Jae-won harbored a fleeting curiosity toward me, there is no way it would endure. A man who thoroughly reviles the very concept of Omegas could never meekly accommodate me when I am ravaged by a heat cycle.

His intellect possessed no difficulty comprehending the absolute logic of the situation, yet his chest felt as though it were tearing asunder. Merely listing the cold facts—buried beneath the ancient, weathered layers of his love for this man—carved fresh, bleeding wounds over the extensive scars his heart had accumulated long ago.

His fevered skin perceived even the soft friction of his robes as an overwhelming sensory assault; everything felt entirely too excessive and grueling to bear, causing his inner spirit to fracture into pieces.

As Yeo Jae-won drew close to the exit, Anok forced his slumped, weakened frame to rise. Mobilizing his limbs felt like an exercise in supreme agony, but had the prince not commanded him to speak up?

‘Let us simply speak. Though I cannot lay bare the entire truth, let us tell him that I have no desire to remain by his side, and beg him to fabricate an excuse to cast me out. Even if it cannot happen immediately, let us speak so that I may depart someday.’

With every step he forced forward, Anok’s legs threatened to buckle beneath him, forcing him to fight a desperate battle to maintain his balance. His vision was already thoroughly choked by a thick, white fog. It felt as though he were navigating a narrow, razor-thin path along the edge of a precipice, entirely enveloped in a dense sea mist where nothing could be guaranteed or verified.

Yeo Jae-won’s pheromones—which had initially seemed to coax his heat forward before gently soothing it—had vanished without leaving behind a single trace. It was clear the prince had locked his scent down completely with absolute intent.

It felt as though if he merely reached out his hand, he could grasp the prince’s shoulder. Anok extended his arm forward, but Yeo Jae-won—who had appeared so tantalizingly close—remained completely out of reach.

“Ah……!”

With his cognitive capacity thoroughly crippled by the fever, Anok had entirely lost the ability to accurately gauge physical distance.

An individual heavily intoxicated by wine or numbed by medicinal tonics would have possessed greater coordination than this. Far from seizing the figure before him, Anok failed entirely to support his own weight, collapsing heavily onto his knees—precisely as he had always done before the grand, revolving wheel of his destiny.

A profound resentment toward everything consumed him. He felt a maddening, borderline insane curse rise within him against the twisted fate that had forced this second existence upon his shoulders. He had never desired this. He had absolutely never wished to relive a life defined entirely by agonizing torment a second time.

If he was ultimately destined to alter absolutely nothing, why had fate granted him a second chance? Desires, greed, and grand ambitions were concepts meant for those who had at least tasted them once. His sole aspiration had been to simply run away, so why on earth……

“Get a hold of yourself, Anok.”

Anok’s deathly pale countenance had flushed into a burning, crimson heat, as though a fever rash were about to erupt across his skin. At the sensation of a remarkably cool touch cupping his burning cheek, Anok closed his fading eyes before fluttering them open once more.

Having chewed, swallowed, and relived a specific phrase hundreds, thousands, no—tens of thousands of times until it had systematically shredded every fiber of his heart, his reaction was entirely instinctual.

—Get a hold of yourself, Anok. The child is dead.

Summoning every ounce of his remaining strength, Anok violently slapped away the hand cupping his cheek. It was a remarkably harsh, desperate motion, echoing through the room with a sharp, resonant slap.

He was granted no time to register how Yeo Jae-won’s expression twisted in response. Ravaged and broken by the unquenchable fire of his heat, Anok’s physical frame had finally collided with its absolute limit.

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