“Why?”
“If it’s a Recessive Omega, even that temporary measure would not work. It only happens because excessively expressed pheromones react by chance. A Recessive does not have that capacity.”
“……”
The only variable in his life kept tapping irritably at his nerves. Even when his parents had died early in an accident and he had been dragged into the inheritance war, Lyle had never doubted himself. He possessed the ability to realize every projection he made.
But anything related to Haejin refused to proceed according to plan. It was not only the recent shift in the boy’s attitude. Lyle’s own strange behavior was also a problem.
Forcing the question aside, he asked again.
“Is there no possibility that frequent contact could cause it?”
“Hm. If there is frequent, dense contact, then perhaps. That would only apply if your compatibility with that Recessive Omega is extremely high.”
For some reason, the physician’s words clung to the rim of Lyle’s ear, stretching thinly. Glancing at his watch, he considered whether he should mention the matter that had been provoking him most impulsively of late.
Could he say that the pheromones of other Omegas felt excessively unpleasant?
In his position, that would be a dangerous statement. If rumors spread that no one but Haejin would suffice, it would be troublesome. He trusted this physician as a rule, but human matters were unpredictable.
In the end, he decided to observe a little longer. After all, his aversion to Omegas had long been a chronic issue. There had even been a time when he sought counseling at the hospital over his excessive rejection.
“In any case, it would be best to resolve it quickly. You are still in a dangerous state.”
“I will.”
As Lyle stood to leave, the physician organized the chart and added one final remark.
“As for the headache, I would not be overly concerned. It becomes a problem if it worsens, but you are particularly sensitive to pheromonal effects to begin with.”
“Understood.”
He nodded calmly. At least it was not worsening. If he could spend even slightly less time dealing with pheromone discharge, that alone was encouraging. There were far more important matters he could devote that time to.
Pushing aside the lingering irritation, Lyle left the hospital. Yet against his will, Haejin’s face surfaced abruptly and refused to disappear from the corner of his mind.
***
When Lyle returned to the estate late that night, he felt fatigue for the first time in a while. It seemed the physician had been correct—the pheromone congestion itself had not been resolved.
Servants stood at the entrance to receive their master. The air carried the faint scent of approaching winter. As Lyle mentally reviewed the important matters awaiting him that season, he stopped abruptly.
Amid the dry air, he caught Haejin’s pheromones.
It seemed Haejin had passed through this place not long ago.
“What is Jin doing?”
His halted steps resumed. Walking at his side and delivering his report, the butler cast his gaze off as though thinking.
“He remains in his room.”
The answer came a fraction too late. A lukewarm irritation settled over Lyle. Had Haejin not just been here? If he was in his room, then he was in his room. What did it mean to say he “remains” there?
A question formed casually, yet it began twisting into complications. As Lyle continued walking without comment, the butler studied him cautiously before asking:
“Shall I have him prepared?”
At those words, Lyle stopped again.
“Master?”
It felt as though something coarse had lodged inside his eyelid—normally insignificant, yet unbearable the moment one’s gaze shifted wrong.
Now that he had arrived, Lyle loosened his tie without hesitation and asked coolly:
“Why have you been undressing Jin yourself? I do not recall giving such excessive orders.”
“Pardon? I—I only acted for your sake, Master.”
The butler’s eyes widened almost to the point of tearing. A Recessive Alpha, unable to even control his own pheromones, revealing flustered signs.
Seeing it, anger surged unexpectedly.
Lyle had instructed only that restraints and a blindfold be prepared. At some point, Haejin had begun being left in the room already bound. Naturally, Lyle had not considered the process. He had merely found it convenient.
The butler likely intended to serve him well, even if his actions were excessive. Even acknowledging that, Lyle nearly rebuked him sharply—had he not considered how humiliating that would be for Haejin?
But before the rough words could leave his tongue, Lyle barely regained his composure. To speak of humiliation, when he himself had ordered the binding—he had no right.
That too was a strange sentiment. They had signed such a contract. Lyle had paid sufficiently.
Was there any reason now to behave as though it unsettled him so deeply?
“…From now on, do not involve yourself in that matter. Deliver my words only. Do not enter that room.”
Forcing himself into rational judgment, Lyle issued the command coldly. Haejin had already been acting as though he might leave without completing even three months. If he had mentioned it directly at the time of drafting the contract, then the process must have troubled him all along. There was no reason not to grant that.
“Under…stood.”
The butler’s voice sounded strained, almost throttled. Lyle glanced at him, puzzled, then realized and clicked his tongue. At some point, he had begun releasing anger-laced pheromones around him.
“And there is no need to summon him tonight.”
According to the physician’s advice, his pheromone congestion was serious enough that even regulating himself was difficult. Even so, Lyle returned to his own room without calling Haejin. There was no particular reason. Simply that he judged he still had some margin, since the headache had not returned.
Yet contrary to what he believed to be rational judgment, the faint residue of anger-laced pheromones lingered like an aftertaste, continuing to press upon the butler.
***
A rare day off arrived. For Lyle, who spent most of the year working, it was uncommon. Even so, “day off” merely meant handling work from home.
Still, the day was uncharacteristically bright. For the first time in a while, Lyle took his breakfast in the inner courtyard of the main building.
In Heavy Rain City, people tended to do something outdoors when the sun appeared. Warm sunlight was rare here. Lyle, born and raised in this city, was no different.
The main building formed a square around the courtyard. Unless viewed from above, the inner space could not be observed from outside.
Thus, Lyle read through the documents laid before him without concern. Remarkably, he had no concept of a holiday spent doing nothing.
As he drank coffee and scanned the printed text, the sound of a window opening echoed from above. Irritation flickered as he lifted his head. The servants had been dismissed to avoid disturbing his rest.
But instead, Haejin was peering out from a window.
“……”
“……”
The estate was old and not especially tall. The distance was close enough to see each other’s expressions clearly.
Haejin did not bother to conceal his rare look of surprise. For some reason, Lyle found himself unable to look away. He stared upward longer than necessary, unable to produce an appropriate remark.
Yet the liveliness that had surfaced slowly faded, as though suffocated. Watching Haejin gradually suppress whatever had risen within him, Lyle felt briefly transfixed—until a level call snapped him back.
“Mr. Vermouth.”
‘Lyle.’
“……”
Why did that single utterance of his name come to mind now?
“Is there something you wish to say?”
After signing the contract, Haejin had resumed his polite manner. It was not wrong. Yet Lyle could not prevent a strange feeling from settling over him. These shifts in emotion had, at some point, become as inescapable as sunlight pouring from the sky.
He took a sip of coffee instead. The warmth steadied him.
Perhaps thinking he was preparing to speak, Haejin continued looking down at him blankly. That alone forced Lyle into the position of having to say something.
From below, Haejin’s face looked even more gaunt than before.
“Have you eaten?”
A passing thought—regretting having placed Haejin’s room in the main building—led him to speak. His own breakfast was set before him, so the question followed naturally.
“I do not feel like it.”
At that response, Lyle forgot whatever idle thoughts he had been entertaining.
Not that he had not eaten. That he did not feel like it.
The question that rose instead fed irritation. The image of Haejin’s body—thin enough that bone nearly showed—flashed into his mind. Though he had refrained from unnecessary contact, the hard, brittle sensation seemed to cling to his palm as if waiting for him.