PH 10

“Make sure you restore my nephew to normal, by all means.”

After Nile finished signing, Count Nuveri commanded in a firm tone. The Count said he was doing it for his nephew’s sake, yet at the same time he was saying that the nephew absolutely must father an alpha son.

One could almost feel his resolve: even if the Duke of Sirarund could not have intercourse, he would tie him down and rape him if necessary to produce an alpha heir.

“The Duke is a pitiable man, when you think about it.”

Gerard said as they left Count Nuveri’s residence. Nile shrugged. The Grand Duke of the North was an alpha. Moreover, he was the sole heir to enormous wealth. Nile had seen too many miserable lives to consider such a man pitiable.

“He was the only son of the previous Duke of Sirarund. His father died in battle, and after that, he was constantly watched by factions trying to bring him down. When he turned seven, he had to be engaged to the daughter of the Imperial faction. She was twelve years older than him.”

That meant a nineteen-year-old woman had been betrothed to a seven-year-old child.

“I heard that when the Duke had his first ejaculation—”

The two strolled slowly through Count Nuveri’s garden. By the small pond, little birds splashed water and chirped merrily. Even in winter, the capital where the royal palace stood was warm—because hot spring water flowed beneath their feet.

“His fiancée came and mounted the child.”

“How old was he?”

“Ten.”

“…”

Alphas matured early and then aged slowly, retaining their youth for a long time. They became adults quickly and then lived for a long time young and healthy.

They said that those with strong alpha traits healed quickly and were naturally resistant to poison. Truly near-perfect beings.

But even so—ten years old. Precocious or not, he was ten. A fiancée twelve years his senior had mounted that child and tried to have intercourse with him.

“Such things happened several times afterward, they say. Because the Duke was not easily subdued, they tried all sorts of methods to take his seed. As a result, the Duke developed a severe distrust of people and a pathological aversion to touch.”

Gerard sighed briefly.

“Nile, how much do you know about the Grand Duke of the North?”

“That he’s cold, frightening, has blue hair and beard, and a purple heart?”

“At least one of those is right—that his hair is blue.”

“Really? His hair is actually blue?”

That the most unbelievable story turned out to be true—Nile was a little surprised.

“Then is the story about his purple heart also true?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The Duke is just a man. He’s very difficult to deal with, the richest man in the world, and has blue hair—but he’s still a man. And a man who must father a child.”

Gerard stopped walking. The reflections of the two men in the lake water spread gently with the flick of a fish’s tail.

“What you have to do is more important than you think. Whether you succeed or fail in this commission could change the fate of the entire North and our Prastos. Do you understand, Nile? Not just Prastos, but even our neighboring nation, Legarten, is after the Duke’s seed. The empires on other continents, too, would take his seed—more precisely, his heir—if they could.”

Nile fell into deep thought, then asked:

“If I fail?”

“The ducal line will end.”

“…Is there no way to install a collateral heir?”

It was not uncommon for a noble family that failed to produce an alpha son to install a collateral heir—but Gerard shook his head.

“Impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because, annoyingly enough, there is land in the North that responds only to the direct bloodline of the ducal house.”

“Land that responds only to the direct bloodline?”

A land that responds only to direct bloodlines—what was it, a magical orb?

And on top of that, the king who rules that strange world has blue hair?

It felt like hearing tales from the era when magic existed. Nile tilted his head.

“I don’t know exactly what it is either. I don’t even know if it’s true. What matters is that the northern lords believe there is land in Sirarund that responds only to the Grand Duke’s direct bloodline, and the Northerners accept only the one to whom that land responds as their liege lord.”

“Ah.”

Now Nile understood somewhat. It didn’t matter whether such land actually existed. Gerard’s point was that the people living there believed it did.

People’s beliefs have power, and that belief would raise the Duke as the king of the North.

“That’s why the pro-Imperial faction in the North has constantly tried to steal the Duke’s seed. When the fiancée failed, they put everyone from prostitutes to noblewomen into the Duke’s bedchamber. Some say even the wet nurse who raised him was among them. The Duke was disgusted and, at thirteen, went off to the battlefield. After that, the Duke was engaged several times, but none ended well.”

Gerard resumed walking. Nile followed.

“You’ll see when you meet him in person, but… he’s a terribly cold person. Looking into those black eyes can send a chill down your spine. Even I, an alpha, feel it—so ordinary people tend to act as if they’re in the presence of a god when they see him. He’s an exceptionally outstanding man, and the most northerly of Northerners.”

“It’ll be tough.”

Nile said. Gerard lightly agreed: “Yes, it won’t be easy.”

“That’s why I chose you, Nile. Because I thought you were the only one who could melt the Duke’s heart.”

“You overestimate me.”

“Perhaps. But I pride myself on having a fairly accurate eye for people.”

Past the pond, a forest path appeared. Thanks to the hot springs, some of the trees were still green. A pleasantly cool wind blew, ruffling the two men’s hair.

“Little is known about the North. Only that it is a land that hides gold, and that its deposits are still undisclosed. If nobles have blue blood in their veins, then the blood of the House of Sirarund is purple—so precious that even the Emperor cannot touch them. Enormous schemes are underway beneath the surface to seize the North’s vast wealth. ‘Only a diamond can cut a diamond,’ as they say—those who can kill the Duke are also of the ducal house. So he must father a son. And for that, you must succeed in this commission.”

Gerard sighed lightly here, then continued in a weary tone:

“That was Gerard Galen speaking on behalf of Count Nuveri’s orders. And from now on, I’ll speak to you as your friend Gerard. The Duke is a frightening man. And he has many enemies. If things start to go wrong, get out immediately. Above all, prioritize your own life.”

“Gerard?”

“Let me finish. The North is not the fearful, ominous place rumors make it out to be. It’s a place where people live, after all. But it’s also a place where legends still live, where all kinds of superstitions breathe, and where loyalty to the Duke runs excessively deep. And you will be the only outsider there.”

“…”

“You saved my life. I want to save yours too, but I’m sorry I can’t.”

Gerard stepped closer and placed his hand on Nile’s shoulder. Though he said nothing, his complicated feelings were conveyed clearly.

“Nile, you are already like the light of my eyes. Please, take care.”

“Are you calling me the light of your eyes because I’m an omega?”

“No, because you’re my friend.”

Gerard looked at Nile with warm, affectionate eyes.

“I cherish you that much. My friend who saved my life. Make sure you succeed in this commission, come back, and gain your freedom.”

Once again, a cold and refreshing wind blew. Nile looked up at the bright, vividly blue sky—a typical central-region sky. Gerard was full of worries, but to be honest, those worries hadn’t made much of an impression on Nile.

As he mounted his horse to head north, Nile thought:

Draw out an alpha’s sexual desire? He has a pathological aversion?

So what—he’s still an alpha. And all alphas are the same. It’s only a matter of time; in the end, they all kneel to lust. This commission was as good as guaranteed to succeed.

And now, having met that legendary man, Nile was troubled. The word “impregnable” came to mind.

∞ ∞ ∞

Nile met the Duke again four days later. For the past four days, Nile had been cooped up in his room, killing time in boredom. The castellan had brought him books, but Nile had never been particularly close with books.

Yesterday afternoon, Nile had sent word through the castellan that he wished to see the Duke, and the next day he received permission to have dinner together.

As he was summoned to the Duke, Nile thought: for the past three days, he had racked his brain over how to even hold the Duke’s hand. It was absurd—he wasn’t some thug harassing a maiden at a well, and yet here he was agonizing over how to hold a hand or brush lips. He found himself both ridiculous and exasperating.

Entering the room, he saw a long dining table that could seat about six. The Duke sat at the head, savoring his wine. After deliberating, Nile took the seat at the far opposite end.

An awkward silence hung in the air as the meal was prepared. Before the Duke was placed roasted meat, boiled vegetables, and cooked fruit; before Nile was a clear soup with a few pieces of boiled vegetables and meat.

‘Cheapskate.’

Nile thought to himself as he picked up his spoon.

‘Really a cheapskate.’