"Quack."
Their breaths tangled thickly in the air.
Standing close enough that it felt as though his thoughts might be read, the golden-haired Emperor spoke.
"Become my Empress."
It was an order he had never imagined.
There had not even been a hint beforehand.
The proposal of the beautiful and powerful Emperor was abrupt.
And utterly devoid of romance.
"No."
Kwon Minseong rejected him instantly.
"Why?"
"Did you forget that this scar on my stomach is because of you?"
"I remember."
"Normal people don't want to marry someone who once tried to kill them."
"Normal people wouldn't."
Tillio grabbed Kwon Minseong's wrist and hauled him to his feet.
Minseong flattened himself against the floor and resisted, but it was a futile effort.
The difference in strength was overwhelming.
He was lifted like a paper doll and dropped straight into Tillio's arms.
"Don't you remember? You're the one who asked me to stab you."
"I'm done talking. You got your answer, so let me go. I need to get home and wash my ears."
"Why would you wash your ears?"
"Because I heard something I shouldn't have."
"If I tell you my reason, will you agree?"
Even if he heard the reason, Minseong doubted his answer would change.
Still, he nodded.
To give someone true despair, you first had to offer a little hope.
A classic case of false hope.
Tillio stared at him silently before suddenly letting go.
Since he had been hanging entirely from Tillio's support, Minseong could only flop helplessly onto the floor.
Without taking his eyes off him, Tillio raised a hand to his uniform.
One by one, he undid the gold buttons and shrugged off the ornate outer coat, tossing it beside Minseong.
Beneath the dark blue uniform was a shirt whiter than marble.
Tillio rolled up the sleeves embroidered with blue thread to his elbows.
Minseong watched, wondering how serious the man was about beating him up if he was already rolling up his sleeves.
Then Tillio extended his right hand.
"Do you know what's more terrifying than an assassination attempt?"
Something that should have been beneath the sleeve was missing.
There were no long fingers.
No pink fingernails.
No warm flesh.
Below the Emperor's right wrist was a mechanical hand composed of cobalt-blue joints, bolts, nuts, and articulated metal fingers.
"An Omega's Derfyu."
Starting with his little finger and ending with his index finger, Tillio flexed them smoothly as if playing a piano.
The mechanical fingers moved as naturally as real ones.
But they could not conceal the cold metallic sounds they produced.
"Ten years ago, Marquis Orphes fed a Heat Cycle inducer to his twelve-year-old child and sent them to my coming-of-age ceremony."
His voice remained calm.
"That day, I lost control."
Kwon Minseong swallowed dryly.
There was only one meaning when an Alpha said he had lost control in front of an Omega.
"I cut off my own hand with a sword and prevented anything unfortunate from happening."
This bastard is actually insane.
"I am not someone who can afford to be controlled by Derfyu. I am the Emperor and ruler of the Empire."
"But your Derfyu..."
Tillio looked directly at him.
Well, of course it didn't.
It had been a fake Heat Cycle.
"I could smell it, but I felt calm. Comfortable. I was able to think and act as an ordinary person rather than an Alpha."
His turquoise eyes narrowed slightly.
"And a Heat Cycle that lasts less than twenty-four hours? There's no reason not to make you my Empress. You're more than qualified."
"When I'm with you, I can exist as an Emperor rather than an Alpha."
His voice carried absolute certainty.
"Therefore, you must become my Empress."
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Kwon Minseong slowly ran the calculations through his head.
So this young Emperor simply hated the fact that his lower half went crazy whenever Omega pheromones were involved.
And because Minseong provoked absolutely no reaction, he had chosen him.
"I see."
After finishing the calculations, Minseong finally opened his mouth.
"I suppose I could become your Empress."
Then he smirked.
"But I don't feel a shred of sincerity from you."
He dusted himself off and stood.
Then he arrogantly lifted his chin.
Now who has the upper hand?
"Try courting me. Convince me I need to give permission."
"You do remember I'm the Emperor, right? One order from me and your permission becomes irrelevant."
"Listen, kid."
"Kid...?"
Tillio's eyebrows twisted into a ridiculous shape.
Not even the late Emperor and Empress had ever called him that.
"I've read every book in this country related to Omegas."
Tillio remained silent.
He still seemed unable to recover from being called a kid.
"And do you know what's funny about this nation's libraries?"
Minseong crossed his arms.
"They summarize Omega pregnancy and childbirth in about three lines, but they devote hundreds of pages to Imperial etiquette."
Still no response.
"According to Imperial marriage law, when an Emperor seeks an Empress, a third party must testify that the Emperor's proposal is sincere."
Minseong grinned.
"And the person receiving the proposal gets to choose the witness."
The current Emperor might be little more than a glorified thug, but Elunem's legal system was excellent.
The law Minseong had just recited was the Anti Coercive Marriage Act, a procedure designed to prevent Alphas from using pheromones to force Omegas into marriage.
Of course, what was even more impressive was Minseong's memory.
The fact that he had remembered it at exactly the right moment was proof enough.
As expected of my brain.
A satisfied smile spread across his face.
"The desperate one here is you."
He pointed casually at Tillio.
"Are you sure you should be acting so stiff with me? Maybe you're too young to understand the situation."
Tillio lowered his turquoise eyes beneath his long lashes.
For a moment, he appeared to be thinking.
Then, as though reaching a decision, he strode forward and grabbed Minseong by the waist.
"I love you."
And then the Emperor kissed his soft cheek.
"I love you, Sisi."
Chapter 66
"Does that work?"
"No."
You even got my name wrong.
"Then what do you want me to do?"
Kwon Minseong slipped out of Tillio's arms and backed away.
The nobles had showered the young Emperor with pheromones in hopes of securing the position of Empress.
Minseong, meanwhile, intended to use the position of Empress as leverage to permanently squeeze a hospital out of him.
"My proposal witness will be Ian."
By then, he had already retreated all the way to the door, following the long blue carpet.
Tillio's beautiful face immediately darkened.
"Ian? The Ian who used to be Reiner's assistant?"
"Yep."
Minseong nodded.
"If Ian testifies for you, I'll consider it."
Ian was more machine than machine.
Even with a sword pressed against his throat, he would never give false testimony.
Not in this lifetime.
Creak—
Tillio ground his teeth.
That damned quack had clearly chosen Ian for exactly that reason.
Fine.
Let's see how far you can take this.
Watching the physician struggle to pull open the heavy door, the Emperor issued a warning.
"There is no sword that remains dull after being sharpened ten times. I'll make you learn that personally."
As he squeezed himself through the narrow opening, Kwon Minseong smiled bitterly.
What a kid.
If hard work could solve everything in life, his clinic would never have met such a miserable end.
"...A proverb is just a proverb."
Bang.
With those words, the heavy door closed, separating the two of them.
Although he had rejected the proposal decisively, Kwon Minseong remained in a foul mood the entire way home.
"Fifteen. That's five fewer than yesterday."
The moment he saw the registration list, a sigh escaped him.
Fifteen patients.
Compared to his days practicing medicine in South Korea, it was only slightly better.
By the width of a fingernail.
No, it was actually worse.
Back then, his clinic had gone bankrupt because it had been swept away by a massive social trend no individual could resist.
Now he lived in a world where both women and men could give birth.
And his hospital was still failing.
Rapidly.
"At this rate, I won't even be able to pay salaries next week."
"Mmm... This stew is really good..."
While Minseong sat there tearing at his hair in despair, Aswin sat across from him, stuffing his cheeks with Yvonne's stew and enjoying a perfectly happy lunch break.
"Right... As long as one of us is happy..."
A happy pregnant patient meant a happy baby.
Minseong pushed his own bowl of stew toward Aswin.
Aswin and the unborn child who would otherwise never receive a blessing were precious clients.
Insurance.
And a crucial stepping stone toward turning the clinic around.
If it would keep Aswin and the baby happy, Minseong was prepared to bring Yvonne's mother here personally rather than just her stew.
"Any morning sickness?"
"Um... not really."
"You're blessed."
Minseong gently rubbed Aswin's stomach.
From the outside, there was no visible sign of pregnancy yet.
At most, maybe three months along.
An ultrasound would confirm it immediately, but yesterday he had been dragged off to the Imperial Palace and hadn't had time to bring Aswin into the examination room.