The Sweet Alpha Crown Prince Loves Me So Much

Leaving the faint scent of acacia blossoms behind, Carl Lindbergh quickened his pace.

This was only his third time directly encountering someone else’s pheromones, but Belfry’s scent was unexpectedly alluring.

A wave of melancholy washed over him, and he unconsciously licked his lips.

Adrian occasionally told him that he smelled like violets.

He’d never actually smelled violets before, but he knew they were small flowers that grew close to the ground.

A common flower, like a weed, thriving anywhere with just sunlight and soil.

Belfry’s pheromones, rich and vibrant, seemed like they’d complement Adrian’s scent perfectly.

Carl tried to ignore the throbbing ache between his thighs, which flared with every movement.

It had only been yesterday that he’d spent his third night with Adrian.

He’d been so worried about leaving Adrian alone that he’d instinctively pulled him into the bedroom, a desperate attempt to soothe his anxieties. And it had been incredibly effective.

Carl had spent the entire night inhaling Adrian’s intoxicating scent, pressing down on his aching lower abdomen, fighting to maintain a semblance of control.

He’d automatically blurted out ‘Stop!’ whenever he caught sight of Adrian’s impressive manhood, but he knew he couldn’t keep pushing him away forever.

The increasingly intense encounters had made him realize that Adrian, who’d been pretending to be patient and accommodating Carl Lindbergh’s pace, was simply holding back.

While he knew things would eventually escalate, his physiological fears held him back. He hadn’t considered that Adrian might find these childish displays of affection insufficient.

But Adrian wasn’t an object. He couldn’t simply hand him over to Belfry, even if the man had suddenly differentiated into an Omega.

However, Adrian was also a human being with emotions, and he couldn’t control where his heart led him.

Carl bit his lip, his eyebrows furrowing.

Belfry had asked why he was trying so hard to be good to everyone.

His words had struck a chord, making him feel like he was being accused of having a ‘good child complex’.

And it was true.

If Belfry hadn’t collapsed, he would’ve confessed that he was simply wired that way.

The reason Carl Lindbergh constantly fussed over others was simple. He couldn’t bear to see those he cared about suffer, especially when he knew he could help. He couldn’t stand idly by when he knew his actions could make a positive difference.

And he also knew that being universally kind didn’t necessarily translate to being a good partner.

For the first time, Carl Lindbergh questioned himself.

What did he want to be? Adrian’s lover? Or the righteous protagonist of the novel?

“Your Highness? Where are you going?” 

Marco and Elizabeth, both wearing matching raincoats, were returning from their evening walk when they spotted Carl.

“Just to Lulu’s room, for a bit.”

He offered them a faint smile, quickening his pace. Marco and Elizabeth quickly followed.

“The witch? Wait, Your Highness! I’m coming with you!”

Marco struggled to remove his raincoat, the damp fabric clinging to his skin, while Carl walked ahead, followed by Elizabeth, who barked excitedly. 

“

!”

“Highness!”

Their combined shouts of ‘

!’ and ‘Highness!’ sounded like an outdated catchphrase, making Carl chuckle as he stopped.

“You two go back to your rooms, take a hot shower, and make sure you dry your hair and fur properly. I’ll be in Lulu’s room. I’ll inspect you both when I return.”

“But Your Highness, what if something happens to you while you’re alone?”

“She won’t harm me now. Besides, there are two knights stationed outside her room. They’ll handle it.”

Carl Lindbergh, not wanting to be detained any longer, handed Elizabeth’s leash to Marco and quickly disappeared down the hallway. 

“But…! But…!”

“

!

!”

The two, both missing their master, fidgeted restlessly before turning around and trudging back to their rooms. 

Lulu jumped, startled, as the door burst open the moment Carl knocked. She hastily shoved a stack of papers under the table.

“Didn’t you say Betas need to be exposed to pheromones to differentiate?”

Carl Lindbergh asked, his expression anxious. Lulu glanced down at her chipped fingernails. 

“Yes. So?”

“A sudden exposure to a large amount of pheromones, right?”

Lulu nodded.

“And… that usually involves… spending the night together?”

“Yeah, that’s usually the most effective method. Why? Did you get a pheromone shower or something?”

Despite the playful glint in Lulu’s eyes, Carl Lindbergh’s face was shadowed with despair. 

If he recalled correctly, Lulu had said… 

Adrian was always eager to spend time with Carl, so the likelihood of him spending the night with Belfry was practically zero.

But there was something about that prophecy that made Carl Lindbergh uneasy, and he couldn’t shake it off. 

“So, how was it? Feeling any heat in your lower abdomen? It’s a shame I’m a beta. You must smell like Adrian. Tell me all about it.”

Lulu, who’d been working on her ‘Adrian x Carl’ fanfiction, was eager for details.

A juicy first-hand account would fuel her writing.

Genre fiction existed in this world, too. She’d been surviving on stories like ‘How the Wandering Minstrel Was Caged by the Duke’, but it wasn’t quite satisfying.

After her favorite pairing crumbled, she’d even wished to be ejected from this world.

However, witnessing Carl Lindbergh and Adrian’s passionate displays had ignited a desire within her to record it all, to tuck it away under her pillow or in a secret drawer, to be relived over and over again.

She wasn’t usually interested in writing stories about real people, but these were BL protagonists, who looked exactly like the illustrations she’d drooled over countless times. That made all the difference.

Carl Lindbergh’s trembling voice, barely a whisper, escaped his pale lips.

“Belfry… differentiated into an Omega.” 

“What?!”

Lulu was shocked.

Had the original story truly been derailed? Why was Belfry differentiating now, of all times?

And why did Carl Lindbergh look so devastated?

As if on cue, thunder boomed outside, and each flash of lightning illuminated Carl Lindbergh’s face, revealing a whirlwind of emotions.

“Belfry differentiated into an Omega, but I can’t bring myself to be happy for him. Does this mean Adrian will… fall for him now?”

“What are you talking about? That’s ridiculous!”

Lulu moved closer to Carl. 

“But you said those with traits are driven by their instincts! I don’t even have many instincts, and I can’t even keep up with Adrian.”

“But you went through your first heat with Adrian, didn’t you? What happened then?”

“We just… kissed and… no, that’s not it. We didn’t do much. We never went all the way.”

He confessed, feeling like he was making a confession at a church, that he’d been trying to ignore Adrian’s unfulfilled desires. 

He felt incredibly embarrassed.

It was like he was revealing all the intimate details of his sex life to his younger sister. 

But he was too troubled to hold back, and there was no one else to turn to.

Lulu silently celebrated.

“Isn’t that how pheromones work? Attracting and being attracted. Losing control and acting on your desires. You said it yourself, Adrian was supposed to have… taken Belfry.”

“And then he’d spend the rest of the story wallowing in regret.”

Lulu crossed her arms and nodded. 

“But I don’t feel any of that. Honestly, I barely even notice other Alphas’ pheromones, except for Adrian’s. Even during my heat cycle, it felt like Adrian was the only one going crazy. Has Adrian… grown tired of me being this way?”

Lulu, who’d been listening intently, replied nonchalantly, “That’s because of the medication you were taking.”

“What?”

“The pheromone-suppressing medication. The one Kitchener was giving you through the Queen.”

“You knew?”

Lulu shrugged at Carl’s question.

“Do you think I’m a prophet and a witch for no reason? That medication dulled your senses and damaged your pheromone-producing glands. Kitchener was worried someone would snatch you away, a Dominant Omega like you. Your pheromone glands should have been permanently damaged. While Lindbergh and Heineken were playing tug-of-war over you, Belfry would have connected with Adrian, and that would’ve driven Carl crazy. He would’ve ended up in a forced imprint with Kitchener and then abandoned after Kitchener discovered he couldn’t get pregnant.”

Carl Lindbergh couldn’t help but pity the original Carl Lindbergh, who’d lived such a tragic life.

He might have been a villain, but it was those corrupt adults who’d taught him those wicked ways.

“And it was you, the original Carl Lindbergh, who instigated Belfry’s escape, then sent people after him to silence him permanently. Though, in the end… you’re killed by Adrian.”

Carl Lindbergh offered a silent prayer for the original Carl Lindbergh’s soul.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, your lack of sensitivity to pheromones and your muted heat cycles are all because of that medication. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Lulu patted Carl Lindbergh’s shoulder. Carl leaned against her. He didn’t put his full weight on her, but he wanted to share her warmth, feeling a wave of loneliness wash over him.

“Lulu, it seems like the prophecy will come true after all. I don’t want to compete with Belfry for Adrian. It makes me feel… sad.”

Lulu, momentarily captivated by Carl’s puppy-dog eyes, his straight nose, and his clear skin, shook her head. 

“What are you talking about? What do you mean ‘compete’?”

She’d assumed they were officially a couple, considering Carl Lindbergh had limped out of Adrian’s room that morning. Why was he acting like a lovesick fool all of a sudden?

“Adrian… I think he slept with Belfry. Behind my back.”

She wondered if Belfry’s sudden hostility stemmed from his own realization.

Lulu should be happy that the original plot was back on track, but she felt inexplicably irritated. “That’s impossible,” she stated firmly.

Then, as she realized why Carl had looked so miserable, a smirk spread across her face.

This was ridiculous. What a pathetic attempt at angst.