Chapter 119

“Carl, your sister is ruthless.”

“What are you talking about?”

Carl, startled, opened his eyes. Adrian, who’d insisted on joining him in the bath despite Carl’s protests, was now busy soaping his back.

“If you’d seen your sleeping face, that innocent, angelic expression… you’d understand why I didn’t want to wake you.”

Splash.

Carl splashed water at Adrian, annoyed.

Adrian, his handsome face even more alluring when wet, simply grinned at him, and Carl Lindbergh’s expression soured.

“Stop with the cheesy lines. You’re making me sick.”

Leia Lindbergh had made a decisive choice. When Adrian, who’d gone to wake Carl, hadn’t emerged from the bedroom after two hours, she’d marched in and dragged him out herself.

“I’m not being cheesy. I swear, you’re the most perfect being in existence, both asleep and awake.”

Adrian placed a hand over his heart, his expression serious.

“Wow, a handsome lunatic.”

Carl blurted out without thinking, and Adrian chuckled, his lips forming a pout.

He loved Carl’s exasperated reactions.

He’d been completely serious. He found Carl Lindbergh’s occasional glimpses of authenticity, beneath the layers of politeness, incredibly alluring.

“Then you should’ve woken me up sooner.”

Carl grumbled, leaning in and kissing Adrian.

Seeing Adrian’s lips twitch upwards, Carl winced. Kissing him had become a reflex.

He’d have to be more careful, more discreet in public, despite being officially together.

“I tried. Right before Leia Lindbergh barged in.”

Adrian had been admiring Carl’s sleeping face when Leia, like a vengeful spirit, had appeared behind him, yelling Carl Lindbergh’s name. Adrian had hissed at her to be quiet.

Then, as expected, they’d started bickering.

Carl Lindbergh, half-asleep, had had to separate them, their playful tussle threatening to escalate. Then, fully awake, he’d realized he was naked, save for his robe, standing before his sister.

“Even if you are my sister, barging into someone’s bedroom is inappropriate.”

“Of course it is. But we’re in a hurry, and despite the imprinting, there are more pressing matters.”

Adrian, who’d been pouting at Carl for taking Leia’s side, stopped, seeing the genuine embarrassment on Carl Lindbergh’s face.

He would’ve happily let Carl sleep forever, but they were in a hurry.

“So, what’s the plan?”

Adrian gently massaged Carl’s scalp.

Carl, fighting back a wave of drowsiness at his soothing touch, explained, “The King of Parman is using a hieroglyph, a character with multiple meanings, for his formula.”

Hieroglyph? While the word was unfamiliar, Adrian understood the concept. He watched as Carl Lindbergh drew a symbol on the steamed-up bathroom tiles with his wet finger.

“The character for ‘jade’ or ‘jewel’ is on the left, the character for ‘field’ or ‘farmland’ is on top, and then the character for ‘earth’ or ‘ground’ is at the bottom. These three combine to create a single character.”

The character 理 (li), derived from the act of refining and cultivating jade and farmland, had evolved to mean ‘reason,’ ‘logic,’ or ‘the natural order of things.’ Lulu had explained this to him.

“This jewel… it’s a special kind of jewel. It’s polished and refined to create a treasure. It’s a difficult and laborious process. So, it eventually also came to mean ‘to govern’ or ‘to manage.’”

Carl Lindbergh added that it reminded him of magic stones.

A single word with countless meanings. The grimoires only offered one definition, one interpretation, until Carl Lindbergh had pointed out that they were, in fact, words, not just symbols.

“Even if the King of Parman knew it was a character, not just a random symbol, he wasn’t using it for benevolent purposes. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have resorted to murder. I’m going to change its meaning.”

Carl, his skin flushed, the bite mark on his neck throbbing, stretched his stiff back, then stood up abruptly.

Adrian, wrapping a fresh towel around him, asked, “Have you considered that it might be a trap?”

While Carl Lindbergh’s theories were usually sound, there was always a degree of uncertainty, a risk he couldn’t ignore. He hoped Carl would reconsider.

“Well, you have a point, but…”

He felt a wave of dizziness, his head spinning from standing up too quickly. He closed his eyes, leaning against Adrian for support, then his eyes snapped open.

“That’s why I have to go. Because we don’t know.”

Carl Lindbergh believed he was the best person to handle this, regardless of the risks.

He was the only one who truly understood the meaning of the character.

“I’m scared too. What if my knowledge isn’t enough? What if this is all just useless trivia?”

He dressed quickly, ignoring Adrian’s lingering gaze on his naked body.

Adrian, watching him dress himself, was reminded that Carl was from a different world.

Especially when he sat on the floor, pulling on what he called ‘socks.’

Most nobles, even those of lower rank, were accustomed to being dressed by servants. They rarely bothered with clothes until their attendants arrived. The prince, however, couldn’t stand being naked, even for a moment.

Marco, his efficient and attentive attendant, always laid out his clothes before he woke.

And Carl wasn’t picky. He’d wear anything, as long as it was comfortable, a trait that only enhanced his unconventional charm.

“It’s not that I want to be the center of attention, but I feel like the stage is set, and I have to play my part.”

He’d called himself an ‘overpowered protagonist.’

Someone incredibly strong and capable.

“Do you think you can redeem the King of Parman?”

Adrian asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.

While Carl Lindbergh was undeniably gifted, he wasn’t that powerful. He wasn’t a god.

Carl Lindbergh shook his head. Redemption? The King of Parman had committed too many atrocities.

“No. Not a chance.”

He stood up, pulling on his trousers, then, before putting on his coat, he undid Adrian’s wet shirt and began drying his hair and chest with a towel, then buttoned up a fresh shirt.

Adrian, his chin ticklish from Carl’s hair brushing against it, looked down at him, content.

“Our crown prince has no concept of cold. Honestly, you’re so high-maintenance.”

Carl Lindbergh, leaving the top button undone, teased him.

“Do you dislike it?”

“No. I enjoy taking care of you.”

And touching you. Carl Lindbergh licked his lips, then grinned.

“Then perhaps you could do this every day?”

Adrian extended his hand, his tone formal, almost like a proposal.

“Are you proposing?”

“Yes.”

He knew Adrian was teasing, but his intense gaze made Carl’s heart flutter.

“That was the least romantic proposal I’ve ever received. But considering your face and physique, I accept.”

They clasped hands, and Adrian, kissing the back of Carl’s hand, asked, “Better than demanding you bear my children, right?” Carl chuckled, nodding.

They were hopelessly, ridiculously in love.

Between the lovesick fool and the romantically inept, it was the latter who regained his composure first.

Carl released Adrian’s hand and put on his coat.

“Anyway, that’s what I intend to do, Your Highness the Crown Prince. Heineken’s forces are advancing, the Imperial family and my sister are waiting, and you’ll be protecting me. So, I have to do my part.”

Adrian, instead of a coat, chose a cloak.

“Then I have no choice but to comply. We’ll resolve this quickly and return home.”

Three long blasts from a horn echoed from outside.

Adrian and Carl, hand in hand, exited the room.

 

❖ ❖ ❖

 

Marco, seeing them emerge, eagerly presented the magical device he’d crafted under the prince’s guidance.

Two branches, intertwined and reaching upwards from a single root, with a brilliant magic stone embedded at their apex.

Smaller magic stones, the size of thumbnails, were arranged around the central crystal, resonating with the 〈Your Voice, Your Scent, Your Touch〉 magic stone Adrian wore at his waist, like a protective amulet.

“It’s beautiful, Your Highness.”

When Carl Lindbergh swung the hovering magic tool as a test, Marco clasped his hands together and his eyes sparkled.

“Really?”

“Yes! I’ve never seen a noble carry such a large, ostentatious magical device. It suits you! It’s majestic!”

It was inspired by the 〈Lord of the Rings〉.

…It couldn’t be helped since that was all he knew about magic.

‘My poor imagination,’ Carl sighed internally, then pulled up his hood, which Marco had carefully chosen to match the color of Adrian’s cloak.

The dark blue hood, embroidered with two wolves standing side-by-side, surrounded by a wreath of flowers, enhanced Carl Lindbergh’s ethereal beauty.

He winked at Lulu.

‘How do I look?’

‘He’s finally ready.’

Lulu, standing beside Marco, nodded, then, catching Adrian’s eye, her lips twitched.

‘Tsk. He still hasn’t told him.’

Her favorite character’s murderous glare made her heart race.

Leia Lindbergh and Belfry were waiting for them in the hallway near the annex entrance. They’d been talking, their heads bent together, but they both looked up as Adrian and Carl approached, their matching cloaks billowing around them.

‘That sickeningly sweet scent…’

After the imprinting, Carl Lindbergh’s own scent had faded, replaced by Adrian Heineken’s, his Alpha.

Belfry, watching them, their compatibility undeniable, struggled to suppress the warmth blossoming in his chest.

‘It was never meant to be.’

The pain, however, was dulled by Leia Lindbergh’s scent, a comforting presence beside him.

She might be annoying, her words often sharp and cutting, but he was grateful.

“Good luck, Carl Lindbergh.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be back soon.”

Carl smiled at Leia’s reassuring pat on his shoulder.

“Be careful, both of you. If you succeed, I suppose our next meeting will be in Heineken.”

Belfry added his farewell.

Once this was over, Carl, now imprinted and officially part of the Imperial family, would be returning to Heineken with Adrian, to learn the ways of the court. Belfry was no longer needed. Leia Lindbergh had other companions now.

Elizabeth, whining softly, nuzzled against Carl’s leg, seeking his familiar scent.

Carl, after waving goodbye to Leia, Belfry, Marco, and Lulu, knelt and gently stroked Elizabeth. Magical beast or not, she was still his beloved puppy.

“I’ll be back.”

“Whimper…”

Elizabeth, unable to find his usual scent, tucked her tail between her legs and hid behind Marco.

He felt a pang of sadness, but there was nothing he could do.

“Until next time.”

“Safe travels, Your Highnesses.”

The servants bowed, and the knights stomped their feet in unison.

Two more blasts from the horn echoed through the air.

Carl Lindbergh and Adrian Heineken were leaving for Parman.