Chapter 30
Since he had told her to come in, she couldn’t very well close the door again.
Edith let her gaze wander awkwardly. And then, inevitably, her eyes traced over the man’s smooth, bare skin.
He stood there wearing only his trousers, utterly at ease. The fabric clung snugly to his lower body as he crossed the carpet barefoot. The pronounced bones and tendons on the tops of his feet looked strangely sensual.
He draped the top of his nightclothes over his wrist. His large hand slid smoothly through the sleeve of white silk.
His chest—broad as a rocky mountain—lifted thick muscles every time he moved.
When he slipped his arms into the garment, the fabric fell in a gentle arc along Clyde’s sensuous back. His sharp elbows were lean and angular. Even the blue veins winding along his forearms looked indecent.
Indecent enough to make her imagine—without meaning to—what those arms might do on a bed.
She couldn’t look away. Eyes wide in shock, Edith stood frozen by the door like a scarecrow.
“What are you doing over there?”
He tilted his head slightly—toward the bed.
Her heart refused to slow, threatening to explode at any moment. From the tips of his blue hair to his bare toes, a blatantly erotic man waiting beside a bed was just too much.
“Ah—yes.”
Edith snapped her mouth shut and forced herself to pull herself together.
To hide the fact that she’d been openly admiring his naked body, she lowered her head and turned toward the far corner of the room. Just then, a group of palace attendants emerged from the bathroom and dressing room, clearly having finished tidying up.
Clyde brushed his hands together lightly. The attendants bowed silently and left the bedroom. The moment Edith realized there had been others in the room, it was once again just the two of them.
And the room had changed—drastically.
“Wow… there’s a bed.”
Next to the original bed stood another of similar size. The wall had been concealed by drapery during construction for quite some time, and now a large section had been carved out to accommodate it.
The new bed folded up and down against the wall. Compared to the Crown Prince’s bed—with its golden pillars and elegant canopy—it lacked grandeur, but the plush, inviting mattress looked unmistakably practical.
“So all that construction was to make a bed.”
She circled it in awe, poking the sheets experimentally.
“It didn’t turn out as convenient as I’d hoped. It takes several attendants just to raise and lower it.”
That explained why preparing dinner had taken longer than usual.
Because Clyde had bathed later than normal, he hadn’t finished dressing by the time she returned. As a result, she’d accidentally been treated to a full display of bare skin.
“It is huge, so that makes sense.”
“I hope it won’t be too uncomfortable.”
“…Did you make this because of me?”
“Was I supposed to lie on both sides by myself? I only have one body.”
The moment her suspicion was confirmed outright, her face went pale. Installing an entire bed—was this his way of telling her not to go home at all?
“I’m going home. Tomorrow, I’m definitely leaving on time.”
“Mm. I’ll support your on-the-dot clock-out, Edith.”
“I’m serious.”
He replied lightly, indifferent yet gentle.
“I know how you feel. But we have to prepare for when it gets late. I can’t keep sleeping on the couch forever.”
“That’s because—”
She nearly snapped that it was because he wouldn’t let her go, but swallowed the words just short of crossing the line.
Up until now, Clyde had let Edith sleep in the bed while he used the couch.
Part of it was because she’d panicked the one time she woke up beside him. And partly because he seemed careful not to wake her, knowing he slept little and rose early.
Sometimes, after returning from training, he would lie beside her briefly. She’d always felt a bit guilty then—after all, it was the Crown Prince she’d driven to the couch.
“Want another cup of tea before bed? Or should I turn off the lights?”
Even so, receiving a new bed didn’t make her happy.
She shot him a sideways glare.
He said he supported her leaving on time, but his actions and the atmosphere made it clear he had no intention of letting her go. In every way, he was nudging her toward giving up. The message was obvious: just live here.
“I want to sleep early.”
With an easy shrug, Clyde began turning off the lights one by one.
As darkness settled, Edith climbed onto the bed. Her eyes, not yet adjusted, saw nothing but black.
Rustle—rustle. The sound of sheets brushing against her knees and hands filled the air. Then she heard another, unfamiliar sound of friction.
What was that?
“Edith?”
A large body collided with hers.
“Ugh—”
Startled, she sucked in a breath as a thick, solid arm wrapped firmly around her waist. The unfamiliar bounce of the new mattress threw her off balance, and she tipped helplessly to the side.
A long body, heavy with weight, overlapped hers.
The heat against her side was scorching.
She let out a short scream. Her breath and his startled exhale spilled together. Sheets and blankets tangled as Clyde’s warm breath brushed her ear.
“Why did you climb onto this bed, Edith?”
Each time he spoke, his soldier’s build and weight made her chest vibrate beneath him.
Her compressed neck must have been bright red—hidden by the darkness, thankfully.
“Isn’t this my bed?”
“What are you talking about? The bed you sleep on is the one next to it. You always sleep there.”
“But that space is for the Crown Prince.”
“Why get precious about it now?”
A slow hand brushed the hair near her ear.
She was losing her mind. Pinned down, wrapped in his sweet voice, and now being touched on the head.
“If you want to try sleeping on the new bed…”
“You’ll have to compete with me for it. Are you sure you want that?”
Clyde made it clear he intended to claim this bed. If she insisted on staying, it felt like the next step would be him suggesting they share a blanket.
“No. I’ll move.”
She had no choice but to retreat.
Edith shifted, trying to get up—but he didn’t move aside.
Her briefly lifted hips sank back down.
Lying stretched out, Clyde was hard to read. With nothing but darkness around them, only his animal-like breathing floated hotly through the mess of hair around her.
“…Why?”
“Just a moment.”
His breathing stopped. The air brushing her ear vanished, replaced by warmth enveloping her entire body.
The silence was heavy.
Heavier than his sharply defined abs or the jut of his hip bones.
The darkness swallowed her resentment and complaints—the pressure of being overly trusted, her childish insistence on going home.
What was he feeling? Why was he holding onto her, even forcing the issue?
“Okay. That’s enough.”
Just as her thoughts spiraled, his net-like body finally lifted away.
Edith raised her overheated back and hurried to the other bed.
Without even undoing the drapes tied to the bedpost, she burrowed in and pulled the blanket over her head.
Because of his pointless stunt, her own heated emotions refused to cool. This was all Clyde’s fault. Working her through the night every day—what a tyrannical superior. And with the unassailable authority of the imperial family, quitting or defying him wasn’t easy.
Alone, she stuffed the feelings she couldn’t quite name deep beneath the covers.
“…About the examination earlier.”
His voice, rough and hoarse, came from beside her.
“….”
“It’s best to follow the doctor’s advice. He’s one of the finest physicians in the empire.”
“I know.”
“I was surprised too, hearing you’re a rare case.”
“That’s why I lived as a beta all this time. It felt natural.”
She couldn’t start babbling about novels here. Nor could she confess that the story itself was changing. So she acted like someone simply encountering a new reality.
“You should’ve been diagnosed sooner.”
“…Yes. I suppose I should have.”
She didn’t mention having no allowance, or how rarely she’d ever left campus after entering the academy.
She couldn’t tell Clyde—the novel’s protagonist—how she’d struggled, spinning between lecture halls, libraries, and dorms, desperately trying to learn the ways of an unfamiliar world.
“But, Clyde.”
He responded a beat late, as if tasting his name.
“…Yeah?”
“What was that thing you mentioned earlier?”
“What thing?”
She searched her memory and placed the unfamiliar term on her tongue.
“Pheromone shower?”
The bed beside her went completely still. Their casual conversation stopped dead.
For a man who usually enjoyed teasing her, who delighted in watching her flustered, Clyde’s sudden silence was suspicious.
This wasn’t like him.
So it was something bad.
It had come up alongside treatment options. Was it abnormal? Some kind of folk remedy?
“What is it? What’s a pheromone shower?”
When she pressed again, he turned his body toward her. Her eyes had adjusted enough to make out a faint silhouette.
“That… would you do it, if you could?”
“You have to tell me what it is before I decide.”
“If you do it, do it with me. Not with anyone else.”
He skirted the explanation, beating around the bush.
Staring at those golden eyes faintly glowing in the dark, she wondered what scheme he was plotting this time.
“A pheromone shower,” Clyde finally said,
after drawing it out long enough to burn the rice.
“It means coating your entire body in a matching pheromone.”
“Coating it? Pheromones aren’t liquid. At best, they’re just a scented gas.”
Pheromones were the power of attraction—the unique scent alpha and omega used to lure each other. And dominant alphas possessed an additional, intangible force to overpower others.
That was all.
You couldn’t take such trace amounts and shower in them.
So how could someone possibly cover their whole body in pheromones? Edith, new to this world, didn’t know—but the doctor and Clyde clearly did.
A long silence followed.
Then, piercing the quiet, a voice—sweet and thick—made her listen without meaning to.
“With my pheromones,” he said softly,
“I wrap them around your entire body.”
He said it before she’d even been officially diagnosed as an omega.
“You and I, shedding all those unnecessary clothes.”
“……”
“Not from a distance like this—”
“but skin to skin.”
