Chapter 28
Edith received her examination while reclining sideways on a couch that was as comfortable as a bed.
In truth, she had intended to do something about her recurring bouts of anemia sooner or later. Casting a sidelong glance at Clyde—whom she suspected might be the prime culprit behind her current condition—she answered the doctor’s questions.
After a moment, Clyde interjected, voicing his doubts.
“Edith is, as you can see, a beta. But I keep noticing things about her that don’t seem very beta-like.”
The doctor was the same man Clyde had met during his rut cycle last time. His graying hair and upright demeanor remained vivid in Edith’s memory. She was also genuinely glad to have the opportunity to be examined by an imperial physician.
“Which aspects strike you as not beta-like?” the doctor asked.
“When I went through rut, Edith seemed to be affected by my pheromones. The sensation was clearly different.”
The doctor hummed softly, listening carefully to the crown prince’s opinion. It was something Edith herself had long suspected.
She also questioned Clyde about his behavior so far.
“Your Highness, are you saying you’ve suspected my trait for quite some time now?”
“You were swaying so badly you could barely stand. I couldn’t see it as ordinary.”
“Then you should have told me earlier.”
“At first, I wasn’t certain either. I did ask later whether it might be a matter of traits, but at the time you didn’t seem to take it seriously.”
“But traits don’t change once they’re decided. It would’ve been more reasonable to suspect anemia or a cold.”
“You said yourself it was never decided. You never took a beta test.”
“But I’m definitely a beta.”
“On what grounds are you so certain?”
Edith bit her lip and couldn’t respond.
This wasn’t the right atmosphere to bring up novels or characters. Her basis was the original story—but she couldn’t possibly reveal that in front of Clyde.
Besides, it wouldn’t be right to blame him for her poor physical condition when she hadn’t even managed her own health properly. When the dizziness kept happening, she should have gone to see a doctor instead of worrying about saving money.
If she were to make excuses, though, a large part of the blame lay with Clyde’s bewitching looks.
At first, Edith had assumed her dizzy spells were simply due to that absurdly handsome face.
He was excessively good-looking. Spacing out while staring at Clyde was perfectly normal behavior. It wasn’t just Edith—other attendants were the same. There were plenty of people whose legs gave out in front of him even without pheromonal influence.
It was only because of his status as crown prince that no one dared to openly rate his looks; objectively speaking, compared to Adrian, they were evenly matched.
And when a man like that hugged her from behind and placed a gun in her hands—how was she supposed to keep her legs from giving out? When he made a fuss about his rut starting in a secluded maze garden, how could anyone stay sane?
She mentally rattled off countless other excuses, but her mouth couldn’t even open.
Instead, Clyde stepped in like a guardian and explained things to the doctor.
“Edith was never officially diagnosed as a beta. Since she didn’t emit pheromones, she simply assumed she was a beta and grew into adulthood that way. Does that happen?”
After some thought, the doctor answered carefully.
“At this age, it’s extremely rare. I’ve never seen a case myself. However, theoretically, it’s possible for a trait to be suppressed for various reasons and then manifest later.”
Edith asked something she herself had long wondered.
“Is it really possible for it to manifest after turning twenty?”
“According to academic literature, the upper limit is the late teens. That’s why I can’t give you a definitive answer.”
“That’s what I think too. It doesn’t make sense at my age.”
“For now, I’ll conduct a broad diagnosis focused on anemia. We’ll begin with a pheromone trait test while also checking for other conditions.”
“You saw me last time too, Doctor. Didn’t you notice any signs then?”
“I’m not a god. It’s hard to detect anything unusual just by looking at someone’s face up close. And since my own trait is beta, I can’t distinguish by scent either.”
Realizing she’d asked too much, Edith fell silent.
Meanwhile, the doctor was breaking into a cold sweat under the pressure of the crown prince’s gaze. He had his assistant bring over a particular medical bag.
“This is a pheromone diagnostic kit. We’ll collect saliva, urine, and hair samples and test them in the lab. The results should be ready in a few days. Lady Ketzmoris, please come see me again then.”
“Ah… yes.”
“If the results indicate a special constitution, we’ll need to respond accordingly.”
“How so?”
“We can take late-manifestation cases as a reference. Usually, we help release the suppressed trait.”
Edith nodded.
Shortly after, she went to the restroom to complete the sampling for the kit.
The doctor, who had been kind to her, was now sweating at his temples for some reason. Before she went to the restroom, he’d only seemed mildly tense—now he looked clearly strained.
“Are you all right? Is something wrong?”
The examination seemed finished, yet the doctor didn’t rise from his seat.
“There’s something I haven’t fully explained. I thought you might want to know for future treatment.”
“Please, go ahead.”
“To improve one’s trait, stimulation from the corresponding partner trait is most effective. If you’re an omega, frequent exposure to alpha pheromones would help.”
“That doesn’t sound too complicated.”
“I can prescribe a medication similar to alpha pheromones. However, actual contact with a real alpha is far more effective than medicine.”
“Contact?”
Focused on the conversation, Edith failed to notice Clyde glaring daggers at the doctor from outside her field of vision.
Unable to withstand the sharp stare, the doctor cleared his throat awkwardly, then continued as if everything were purely medical.
“For example… receiving a pheromone shower from a dominant alpha.”
Edith blinked her wide eyes innocently.
“A pheromone shower? What’s that?”
Apparently, the doctor had assumed she would understand. He fell silent for a moment. Edith noticed him throwing Clyde a troubled look—but still didn’t grasp the situation.
Why was the atmosphere between those two so strange?
As suspicion crept in, her curiosity about the meaning of “pheromone shower” only grew.
The term had never appeared in the original story. And in the four years she’d lived in this world, no one had ever mentioned it to her.
Instinctively, it didn’t sound like something good. With “pheromone” in the name, it was clearly related to alphas or omegas.
If it were something benign, it would’ve been widely used—yet she’d never once heard it. The chill in the air didn’t help either. Both the doctor and Clyde looked visibly flustered.
Clyde cleared his throat softly and spoke in the doctor’s stead.
“Ahem… I’ll explain what a pheromone shower is after the examination. When we’re alone.”
“Is it something serious? Why can’t you explain it here?”
She didn’t notice the elderly doctor discreetly reddening at the nape of his neck. He tried to conclude the explanation as politely as possible.
“In any case, actual alpha pheromones are far more helpful than medication. Make sure you’re exposed to them frequently.”
The test results weren’t even out yet, yet the conversation was already pushing her as though she were confirmed to be an omega. Edith felt conflicted, almost as if she were being played by the doctor and Clyde together.
Still, the logic lined up too neatly for her to refute outright. If her dizziness around Clyde was due to pheromones, then the likelihood of her being a latent omega was high.
How had things ended up like this?
In the original story, Edith had shown not the slightest trace of being an omega.
The real problem was the sheer number of changes happening around her now. She felt uneasy. Most of these changes were flowing in directions she didn’t want—and couldn’t control.
It felt as though each character was acting of their own accord. Everything was in chaos.
Caught in this maelstrom of confusion, she wavered, unsure of what choice to make or how to grasp her future.
* * *
After the doctor left, a period of “work”—in name only—began with just the two of them.
Of course, the workload was anything but light. The quantity and intensity were enough to cause nosebleeds. Since the documents were used for state meetings, it wasn’t merely an excuse Clyde had fabricated.
The annex room where they sat apart was quiet. One person lounged with leisurely ease, while the other was buried under a mountain of paperwork.
The room felt both peaceful and fiercely charged, warmed by a faint heat.
Edith’s eyes darted between document folders and blank pages. Her pen flew nonstop across the paper. Reading others’ documents with one eye, she organized her thoughts with the other and wrote her own report. Only with this level of focus might she manage to go home that evening.
Clyde’s designated quitting time was quite early. If she failed to submit her report by 6 p.m., it meant an overnight shift. A rule he’d established on her first day.
Though calling it an overnight shift was generous—more often than not, Edith ended up claiming Clyde’s bed and falling asleep there.
That large man constantly complained of exhaustion, and lately, they’d been turning off the lights right after eating late-night snacks.
At the thought of food, she shuddered unconsciously.
“Ugh… late-night snacks…”
They were truly the worst. Like temptation demons fresh from hell—guaranteed to pad your waistline, and impossible to stop once you started.
While her mind wandered briefly, time flew by.
From afar, the bell signaling six o’clock rang.
I’m doomed.
“Your Highness, between dance practice and medical exams today, I really didn’t have enough time. If you could just give me a little leeway—”
“Now, Edith. Meals should be eaten on time, shouldn’t they? I’d rather not gain a reputation as a cruel superior who starves his attendants.”
“I don’t really have an appetite. I’ll skip dinner and finish this instead.”
“No appetite? My mistake, then. Dinner is probably already prepared, but I’ll have a special late-night snack arranged instead.”
He was clearly provoking her.
And it was painfully obvious he was trying to keep her from going home. Anyone who couldn’t see through such shallow tricks would be a fool.
After hearing Clyde’s difficult confession earlier, she had sorted out her own feelings. In short, unless his affection was mutual, she wouldn’t recklessly push the issue of the crown prince’s marriage.
In a way, it was a very human, considerate stance. Still, when she reflected on Clyde’s position, she couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him.
Being crown prince really did make romance difficult.
He couldn’t even specify who his feelings were for. Probably because until things progressed to a certain point, it was impossible to reveal.
Whether the one who occupied his racing heart was herself or someone else remained unclear. Perhaps he’d simply been leaving that space open for a future destined partner.
We’re not riding a wave of romance.
He’s only given me ambiguous signals—he’s never confessed outright.
So if I were to fall in love with him, I’d have to give my whole heart. Just as Clyde, while waiting for his destined partner, refrains from discussing the position of crown princess with anyone.
When it comes to genuine feelings, there’s no room for carelessness. Once it begins, you must never let go of his hand.
Honestly, facing him as crown prince and attendant is far easier. And she wanted to reduce, as much as possible, moments that might cause her heart to flutter aimlessly.
She had no choice but to judge things coolly. At present, Edith’s alternative was Peyton—and it was also a safe strategy for leaving Clyde’s side without complications.
That was why she was working so desperately, insisting on going home.
