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Three omegas are lounging in Princess Geto's quarters.
It's late morning, and the young sun of spring bathes them pleasantly as they relax. Suguru is reading. Megumi is reading, too, head resting in Suguru's lap. Shoko’s not doing anything. She holds her pipe close and her sweetened wine closer, a needlework abandoned on the coffee table in front of her.
Somebody enters.
"Hello, my dearest child bearers!" the King bellows, marching his way inside to break the comfortable silence.
In the warm spring breeze, three pairs of eyes glare at him.
The three of them together, they know how to look mean—and a little scary, too.
He turns to Nanami. "See? They bully me."
The Hand stares at him with contempt. "I wonder why."
His gasp gets ignored as Nanami steps forward and bows, greeting Suguru. "Princess Geto, it is a pleasure to see you're feeling better. I hope your back pains have improved since the last time we seen each other."
Suguru accepts the hand-kissing with a kind smile. Even if it’s a little out of fashion, Nanami is still faithful to the old gallantry of his family and Suguru allows him the gesture, knowing he doesn't come with ill intentions. "Thank you, Lord Nanami."
They ignore the exaggerated scoff of a white-haired alpha behind them.
"I hope this can still be of help, though," Nanami adds, handing him a red leather pouch. It holds an ointment with a pungent smell. "My sister advises this remedy for the pain, so I'd like you to have it." Suguru's gaze is truly blessed by this light, shining a light lilac as his slanted eyes curve with delight.
"Your family is always very thoughtful, Lord Nanami. May prosperity find the House Tully in every endeavor, and may health and happiness accompany you always."
The king's head peeks up from behind Nanami's shoulder, squinting between them and the pouch that had been seized by Shoko's greedy hands—after the aconite incident, Suguru is banned from taking anything without her supervision.
"Are we doing favoritism now? Why do you never speak so politely to this King of yours?"
Suguru makes a face. "Because Lord Nanami is a proper gentleman, not a creep who slithers into omegas' chambers despite locked doors."
The jab had been thrown, nobody could have missed it.
It is a month-old gossip by now, but the court is still raging with the scornful rumors. And with the way Shoko is covered in his scent all the time, they can’t even be called rumors anymore; it is obvious Satoru has found a new toy to play with. What a tasty picture it paints: the king, a well-known glutton in bed, suddenly neglecting his harem to mate with the handmaid of the omega he is courting, a difficult one at that, the last heir of the fallen Stark House, a wild kitty that has done nothing but kick up trouble from the moment he has placed foot into the castle, one that was meant to be sold to the highest bidder, just six months prior.
(Little do they know, Suguru is venomous these days out of jealousy for his maid’s attention, and not for the king's one.)
Satoru grins. "Are we still sulking over that?"
Suguru eyes him with annoyance. "And, by the way, it’s rude to intrude in a conversation between adults. His Highness should have heard of this thing called manners."
So much bite, and it’s not even past noon yet. He rolls his eyes but clears away, narrowing onto Suguru's cabinet of refreshments to rummage through it, leaving them to their precious talking.
"I'm better now, but I will be sure to use it next time, thank you.” Suguru continues. “But let's talk about merrier things than my health." He purrs, excessively affable but not fake.
He often does that when he’s comfortable, Satoru has learned—It makes it hard to tell if he’s genuine or he’s just playing with you. (Satoru likes that.)
"Graced with this pleasant weather, I'm looking forward to our next walk together, Lord Nanami. Conversing with you is always so refreshing." The omega throws a glance at the alpha currently on the quest of mouth-catching a bunch of grapes he just threw into the air, and failing miserably at that.
"Are our plans for tomorrow evening still in place? I take for granted Lord Haibara is joining us again. His presence is always welcomed."
Satoru turns around, flabbergasted and with a juice stain on his forehead.
Plans? What plans? Since when did these two become all buddy-buddy—They could have at least invited him!
Dead set on bitching about the disgraceful act of not inviting the Sole Emperor of this country out to dinner until they are forced to, he stomps close and freezes. A strange sight had stolen his resolve, one that had never been seen in the history of humankind: The maid’s face had turned a bright, pleasant pink.
Is she… blushing?
That can't be. It must—Is she—
"This early in the morning, Shoko? You should really cut back on the wine."
That scores him another set of razor-sharp glares.
"What."
Megumi grunts. "How can you be so dumb?"
Satoru sputters, deeply insulted, cornering the couch to better scowl at that adorable grumpy fart of his brother. "Aren't we getting a little too comfortable picking at your elders, pipsqueak?"
Megumi snorts, keeping his eyes on Suguru's lent collection of Norse myths and legends.
"Sure, Grandpa."
Satoru squints harder.
Nanami interrupts them before hands are thrown. "Your Majesty, we have the emissary from Braavos to attend to."
That translates to stop pestering the princesses and get your ass back to work.
“Somebody always needs something.” He waves him off, plonking down on the coffee table to nudge Suguru's knee for attention.
"What happened to scenting at least once per day, boy? I'm bored these days." Suguru throws him a glance, then averts his eyes, turning all his attention to the button on his blouse.
Well, where did all that bite went now?
Megumi grunts again, shutting his book to better glare at Satoru. "This is ridiculous."
Satoru turns to look at Nanami for some help, eyes wide. Nanami sighs, joyless, and doesn't offer a word.
The fuck happened to sworn loyalty?
It’s Shoko who finally speaks, unveiling the arcane. "Lord Geto is peaking in his cycle, Your Majesty. I advise you two to stay apart, unless you're planning to trigger your next rut."
Oh.
Satoru blatantly sniffs in the direction of Suguru's groin, earning a chorus of ‘rude’ from every angle of the room. "I don't smell anything different, though."
"For goodness' sake! How can you even call yourself an Alpha?" Megumi cries, rubbing his eyes in frustration.
…When did the boy get so protective?
"Hey, stop picking on me! He always smells breedable to me!" A speechless silence falls as Suguru chokes on air.
"An alpha can get inured to an omega scent, it's not unheard of," Shoko offers, hiding her grin in her glass of wine.
Satoru stares at her. “It’s the first time I heard about it.”
Suguru groans, glaring at her.
Satoru grows even more confused. Is he missing something? Why is everybody acting so strange?
"For example—"
"Did anyone ask you? No, so shut up." Suguru snaps, caustic.
Manners, right?
But Satoru is a little worried. Suguru being this callous to his maid is uncalled for, even considering his incoming heat.
And sure enough, he sighs and apologises, "Sorry, I’m… Shoko, please, I'm really sorry—" He gives her a desperate look. "—but for the love of God, don't put strange ideas into his head."
The king turns to her, grinning. He wants to see the end of this.
"Tell me, omega. It's an order."
"-in mated pairs." She finishes, beaming at him.
Yup, it was smart to side with her. In matters regarding the princess, she's the perfect mole to have behind enemy lines, both his lady-in-waiting and his dearest friend here.
He returns the grin as they turn to check on Suguru, who has gotten a nice ruby red in the meantime.
"You just got a rotten nose.” He snaps, cornered. “Must be all those gowns you stuff your face into, Sire."
The princess has stopped addressing him by his given name, out of spite. Satoru knows it’s because of Shoko's business and finds it adorable.
As he finds adorable his clumsy attempt to change the subject, calling out his doings under the sheets. Tart at best, a lukewarm bite, really—He still has much to learn.
"What are you, ten? It's called eating pussy, princess."
Suguru sours, murderous. Or perhaps—is he getting a little jealous, at last?
"I'm sorry, babe, the only pussy I meticulously spread, slurped, and sucked dry was yo—" A thick cushion hits him square in the face with all the strength an omega of Suguru's size can muster while Megumi cries loudly, covering his ears in despair.
Too late.
Satoru can easily pick up the omega scent, turning tangier with his mood. He shifts his attention back to the maid.
"I still can tell apart his moods, though. How does it work? Is my nose really fine?" He scrunches it up, worried. He would be in deep trouble if his sense of smell was abandoning him; it would be akin to losing a limb.
Shoko shrugs. "No idea. It's not so common. I'll ask around, see if somebody has more knowledge than me."
He studies her, sensing it's best to leave the two princesses alone. The morose aura radiating from the couch is getting heavier by the minute—he has been almost mauled twice now, he's not looking forward to a third time. (He is.)
"You're well-taught in herbs and medicine, plus you're knowledgeable in the way of the body…" he trails off, lost in thought. “Are you a witch, perhaps?” He asks, but his grin is far from condemnatory.
Even if she sniggers at his words, her laugh trills, always so effortlessly cute.
“Even if there's already a physician in the Dollhouse, he's an unmated alpha. Omegas can't help but act up, and he clearly had never treated a beta before." She explains. To be fair, treating someone that doesn't give off any scent is way harder. "I just picked up a few things to help out," she flashes a bashful smile that's clearly fake—her ill-concealed smugness is not, though.
The king scratches his chin, pensive. "Having an alpha doctor for whores is kinda idiotic, that's what you're telling me?"
She shrugs again, her thoughts obvious.
"Would you watch over these kinds of issues if you had my blessing?"
She eyes him suspiciously. "An omega as a physician? That's unheard of. Folks around here still believe omegas go around jinxing people with black magic and bad luck, I doubt anybody will ever let me treat them." She sounds bitter, and it's not hard to tell why. But Satoru is not one to mind folks’ crap.
"Let's start easy. The Dollhouse alone is big enough for a lifetime of work, after all. Nobody will complain about an omega treating other omegas."
"Right." She rolls her eyes at him, the little shit—so much disrespect, condensed in these four walls. "I'm sure Sir Jogo will be dreadfully elated to have a nobody ordering him around."
He flips a hand in annoyance, dismissing her worries. "He will do as I say. And you will not be down there often, anyway." His gaze wanders back to the two omegas, still fuming on the couch.
They have squeezed closer than before—to glare at him better, most likely. Megumi is closely hugging Suguru's waist now in a protective omega’s stance, and Suguru is not one ounce brighter than before. It's a terrific display of sour pheromones and vicious glares hatching amidst a sea of pitch darkness. Dawning omegas are truly scary—Satoru is surprised they haven't started hissing already.
(He'll take this a thousand times over what happened last fall.)
"I want you here to assist them. The Dollhouse comes after." He sniggers to himself, “Or our little Sugi here will have my throat for real this time.” He throws the said omega a fanged grin, which doesn’t get answered. "Nanami, too, if he wants. Lord Nanamin! Have you anything against Shoko overseeing your health?"
"Absolutely not. I know Lady Shoko is smart and capable."
She turns red at his words.
So, it wasn't the wine.
Interesting—he thought she fancied that annoyingly happy squire that likes to hang around his omega.
The king falls back onto his palms, sighing loudly as he stares at Suguru.
"So, my sweetheart is going into heat.” He stares at him, at the wide frame of his body and those nasty little eyes and that dangerously pouty mouth that can open into the prettiest, sweetest smile in a flash and turn his world upside down. So full of spite life. “Can I join you?"
The heavy silence crackles with tension—so many implications, so much drama! The Hand's presence lends formality, legitimizing the proposal to all intents and purposes, and even though Satoru phrased it as a request, his authority to claim any omega he desires is unquestioned.
The casual informality, the easy camaraderie and the blurred boundaries. They are just his whims, endorsed out of congeniality. He could have rightfully asked for their life at least three different times in the last ten minutes. Rightfully as in following the current laws, obviously, because legitimately speaking, he can do anything he wants with them. Anything.
Under no circumstances, they should forget that what stands before them is the Child Blessed In His Birth, the monarch of an empire extending farther than where the sun rises and sets, the closest thing to a god walking among them.
And yet, one sits unphased, immovable from his silent contempt.
"Absolutely no." He deadpans, so quick, so indisputable, so definitive, stomping on his poor heart with all the strength those thick trunks of his can pack.
Satoru sighs. Another day, another rejection.
"Can I still get you the goat?"
It's tradition to gift a wild goat to a dawning omega when courting, wishing for propitious mating and healthy children.
Suguru makes a face at the suggestion, still unfamiliar with the customs of the South, but then his eyes glint with excitement. "Can I catch it myself?"
Suguru’s eyebrows dance on his forehead. "Do you want to go on a hunt, princess? Now?" He turns to his handmaid. "Can he ride in his condition?"
Shoko gives her blessing as the princess rolls his eyes at them. "I'm not made of glass, you know?"
But it's Megumi who throws a tantrum, for some reason.
"No, you can't go!" He screams and clutches the omega tighter, apprehension written all over his face. "It's not safe to get out of the castle! Not alone." He throws a caustic glare at Satoru, so hostile he has his hackles rising. "Not with him. He's not safe! He’s an—he will—"
Satoru stares at him, bewildered. Megumi is by far a clingy omega, and he's never been so openly against him—not like this, at least.
He’s not the only one confused, though. Every occupant of the room is staring at the youngest like he has grown a second head.
But then Suguru chuckles, raking his hands in that bird's nest of his as Megumi’s arms smother the older like a vice. "Don’t worry, Megumi. Nothing will happen. The king will not hurt me."
The look he throws Satoru has him sizzling, Suguru's defensiveness falling for a moment Oh Gods, finally! to allow him a glance at what lies behind, at the intimate complicity Satoru had sown there himself, digging with bare hand and torn nails inside a mind weighted with too much distrust and too many fears—he would already have whipped that brain of his squeaky clean of dreads and worries, if he knew how to, because there is nothing that omega should be scared of, not anymore, not by his side.
"And I’ll beat his ass if he tries anything strange." Sù finishes, smiling softly.
Satoru bursts out in laughter, finally understanding what's going on. "Aren't our little Megumi too old for this? You cute, adorable brat!" He leans over the couch, ruffling his hair.
"That's not—I'm—" The younger omega hides his face in Suguru's hip, aware he has overdone it.
The pheromone warfare against the alpha morphs into an embrace of soothing cornflower and embarrassed bitter mint. Satoru picks that, too, so his nose must be relatively fine, even if the sweet note of Suguru’s heat still eludes him—a shame, really.
In the mood to be annoying, he sits on Megumi's back, jumping up and down and pulling at his collar to aggressively scent his nape, overwhelmed with the cute aggression. The younger tries to escape, burying himself deeper in Suguru's lap and loudly denying any correlation to Satoru's bloodline, but it’s useless. "My little cutie pie, my sea urchin! Come here, let your big brother cuddle you!"
As the two brothers tussle around the couch, Shoko's eyes lie on Suguru.
Despite all the shadows and all the fears that still cling to the boy, the omega's true feelings can’t help but spill out at times like these, pure and undeniable, laid bare for all to see.
If Satoru was to look up now, he'd see them, too.
But he's distracted, bothering his little brother.
She smiles a private smile.
One Day.