Chapter 118

Adrian woke at dawn, disoriented, two days later.

Time had become meaningless, a blur of sensations.

Carl Lindbergh was sleeping soundly in his arms.

The Heineken servants, silent and efficient, like specters, entered the room and changed the soiled bedsheets.

Adrian watched Carl Lindbergh, now snuggled comfortably under crisp, warm linens, his face relaxed and content.

His lips and eyelids were slightly swollen.

“You must be exhausted.”

Adrian pulled him closer, and Carl Lindbergh, his skin sensitive from the friction of the sheets, whimpered, his forehead creased in discomfort.

Adrian licked the bite mark on Carl’s neck, his tongue tracing the still-sensitive skin.

A sudden surge of desire made him nip at the mark, and Carl Lindbergh’s eyes fluttered open, tears welling up. Adrian, instantly softening, gently caressed his cheek.

Ruts had always been a source of pain and frustration, a reminder of his loneliness.

But this rut, his first with his bonded mate, had been different. He’d been overwhelmed with emotion during the imprinting, tears streaming down his face.

“You’re not disgusted with me, are you?”

He was afraid Carl might regret it, might refuse him after experiencing the intensity… the brutality of his rut.

He wouldn’t let him go, of course, but…

He kissed Carl’s fingertips, wrinkled and slightly bruised from Adrian’s eager touch, then intertwined their fingers, holding his hand tightly.

“It was scary, wasn’t it? I was scared too. But I don’t regret it. Do you?”

He whispered, seeking reassurance from his still-sleeping partner.

Carl, however, remained unconscious, mumbling incoherently. Adrian, smiling contentedly, wrapped him tightly in the blanket, pulling him on top of himself and holding him close.

This feather-light being was his now, bound to him, unable to escape.

He was grateful that Carl’s soul, a fragment of a different world, was trapped here with him, a selfish thought he hoped Carl would forgive.

The world Adrian inhabited, the world he breathed and lived in, was merely a story, a collection of words on a page, to Carl Lindbergh. Yet, he was grateful that he, Adrian, was the protagonist of that story.

If it had been anyone else, Carl Lindbergh might have been captured, claimed by someone else.

Last night, Carl, his voice choked with tears, had finally opened his heart.

He’d repeated, over and over, “I’m so glad it’s you.”

Even through the haze of his rut, the overwhelming possessiveness, the primal urge to dominate, those words had resonated deeply within him.

He peppered Carl Lindbergh’s forehead with kisses, a ridiculous thought echoing in his mind.

‘I’m glad I lived long enough to meet you.’

If Emperor Glenn had heard that, he would have laughed himself silly. If Empress Theresa had heard it, she would have smacked him.

But it was true.

“Carl Lindbergh, my everything.”

Saying the words aloud made them feel even more real.

He pressed his face against Carl Lindbergh’s, their eyelashes brushing, and watched him sleep, content to simply be with him, until the sun rose high in the sky.

 

❖ ❖ ❖

 

“My, my, someone’s looking rather radiant today.”

Leia’s tone, laced with sarcasm, made Adrian Heineken smile, his eyes sparkling.

“Is that so? I’m discovering that coughs and happiness are difficult to conceal.”

Leia clicked her tongue, turning away, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes.

She felt a pang of jealousy. While she’d been away, dealing with unpleasantness, they’d been busy, taking their relationship to the next level, all the way to imprinting. And after she’d caused Belfry so much heartache…

Janis, standing behind Leia, suppressed a smile.

Despite her sarcastic tone, Leia’s pheromones, usually sharp and potent, were now softer, gentler.

Carl, still recovering from the rut, was resting in their bedroom, and it was Leia who’d dragged Adrian away, using the pretense of a report.

While the castle might be filled with love and pheromones, a blissful paradise, the world outside was a chaotic mess. They had no time to waste.

“I’ll get straight to the point. None of Lindbergh’s former nobles survived.”

Leia’s words made Adrian’s face harden.

“I expected some casualties, but none?”

“None.”

Leia’s tone was surprisingly calm, almost relieved.

Her initial reaction had been rage, at discovering the rot beneath the surface, the extent of their corruption. And after witnessing their cruelty firsthand, she’d shown no mercy.

Some had been executed immediately, others publicly displayed, their heads mounted on spikes. A few select lords had been left hanging in the town square, alive, their screams echoing through the air, as the villagers, their faces devoid of pity, pelted them with rocks.

Leia, wiping the blood from her sword, had memorized their faces, vowing to never let such atrocities happen again.

“How do you intend to fill their positions?”

“We’re considering selecting candidates from among the commoners and perhaps recruiting some from the Empire.”

Leia’s answer had been well-prepared.

Executing all the nobles was one thing, but appointing foreigners to positions of power would create complications.

“From Heineken? While our nations have a history of cooperation, we’ve been isolated for quite some time. There might be some resistance.”

Leia, seeing the validity of his concern, nodded.

“And Heineken’s current nobility, including the newly appointed lords, are already occupied with their duties. Relocating them would be difficult.”

“I intend to create a principality for the people, Your Highness Adrian.”

Despite her elegant appearance, her emerald green dress accentuating her figure, Leia looked every bit the warrior.

“The structure of the principality will remain, but I will be the monarch, the symbolic leader, while the territories themselves will be returned to the commoners.”

She stood before him, tall and proud, her expression mirroring Carl’s unwavering resolve, brooking no argument.

“You’re distributing the land? To everyone? Equally?”

Leia shook her head at Adrian’s question.

“There’s no such thing as equality, Your Highness. However, I intend to dismantle the existing system, the laws and economic structures that favored the nobility, and empower the people. To give them a voice.”

It was a daunting task, everyone knew that. But it was also a necessary one.

“The nobility… their power stemmed from magic. But in Lindbergh, magic is irrelevant. There are no mages left who can wield it directly.”

She paused, then added, “However, without a central authority, there will be chaos. People need guidance.”

Adrian, considering her words, thought about Heineken, how they’d integrated commoners into leadership positions without disrupting the existing social structure.

“You’re planning a reverse migration. The refugees who fled Lindbergh for Heineken.”

Leia nodded, tapping her thigh lightly.

“Indeed. I’m aware that many of them now hold important positions within the Empire.”

Even in the Imperial Palace, there were former Lindbergh citizens – the castle chef, who’d worked alongside Carl Lindbergh in the kitchen, several knights…

Leia had observed Heineken’s meritocratic system, its willingness to promote talent, regardless of social standing.

“It’s a good plan. I’m certain many of them would welcome the opportunity to return to Lindbergh.”

Especially those with family still in Lindbergh. They’d support the reforms and strengthen the new regime.

“I won’t rush this. The commoners have already established a foundation during my absence. I’ll focus on reassuring them, on solidifying their trust, before discussing the details with the Empire.”

“Very well. I’ll inform His Majesty.”

Leia’s expression turned knowing.

“I’ve already informed him, while you were… preoccupied.”

Leia, always one step ahead, had contacted Glenn during Adrian’s rut. Glenn, prioritizing the alliance between their nations, had readily agreed to her proposal.

While technically, only Carl Lindbergh was being fully integrated into the Imperial family, Leia’s reforms would create an even stronger bond between Lindbergh and Heineken. Glenn’s enthusiasm was understandable.

“You’ve been busy.”

“Not at all. You’ll be heading to the battlefield soon. I have to make sure everything runs smoothly here, in your absence.”

Leia and Adrian raised their teacups in a silent toast.

“So, how was it? Your first rut?”

Leia asked, her curiosity genuine, an Alpha inquiring about another Alpha’s experience.

‘First rut’ wasn’t entirely accurate, but everyone understood what she meant.

“Did the world look different?”

Adrian nodded without hesitation.

“Yes. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I’d forgotten what it was like to endure a rut alone. My mate… he was so perfect. I almost lost myself in him.”

His voice was husky, his throat suddenly dry. He took a sip of his lukewarm tea, then continued:

“It was bliss.”

Leia’s lips parted slightly, a flicker of envy in her eyes.

“I hope my brother felt the same.”

She’d spoken without thinking, her words betraying her.

“How is it? Now, you can no longer refer to me as Adrian, someone who is ‘still’ not family, can you?”

He hadn’t forgotten her previous remark.

Leia’s lips twitched.

“I suppose I have no choice. I concede. We’ll celebrate our newly formed family bond with a grand banquet, once the war is over.”

Adrian grinned, and Leia, raising her teacup again, clinked it against his.

“Now, tell me, what’s happening with Heineken’s forces in Parman? I was so overwhelmed with reports that I didn’t pay attention to the details.”

Adrian recalled the latest update.

“They reached Parman’s walls two days ago and began the siege. By now, I assume half the walls have crumbled.”

Leia and Adrian set down their teacups simultaneously, their eyes meeting.

“They must have breached the city by now.”

“With the Temple’s holy knights joining the fray, I imagine there’s quite a bit of bloodshed.”

Leia, her arms crossed, gestured towards the bedroom door behind Adrian.

“Perhaps it’s time to wake the sleeping prince. He has a responsibility to fulfill.”