NOVEL NEXT chapter 83
My back burned with pain. I wished someone would just cut that part right out. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt…
“…because… you must… see to it…”
I heard someone’s voice, but the words wouldn’t come together. Losing consciousness again would be welcome, yet the pain kept dragging my scattered mind back. I had no strength to open my eyes, so I only panted in agony as the pain battered me. Gradually, the voice grew clearer.
“…I understand, but why does he faint so often? Does he really lose consciousness?”
It was Asgail’s voice. Why did that once-distant tone now sound so vivid? Even in my haze, I recalled who spoke next.
“This isn’t fainting. It’s more like a near-death state. If this recurs, the time he spends unconscious will lengthen—and soon he’ll die.”
That voice…I’d heard it before. My head wouldn’t work well enough to place it. I could only gasp for air. Asgail said:
“He can’t die. Keep him alive by any means. I don’t care what it takes.”
“If you leave him like this, he won’t last much longer. It’s a miracle he’s still alive.”
“So you’re treating him, aren’t you? If he dies, so do you.”
Asgail’s words dripped with contempt. The other hesitated, then answered:
“…I’ll do my best, Your Highness, but this omega must be handled as delicately as the thinnest glass. His wounds are too severe, and without ongoing treatment they’ve worsened. I’ve seen whipped men before, but never this badly. Even if he barely heals, the scarring will be extreme. The aftereffects…”
“Meisa.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
At last I realized the voice belonged to Meisa.
“My orders are simple and clear. Keep that omega alive. I want no excuses.”
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
Meisa’s quiet reply was followed by silence. My consciousness began to fade again, but Meisa’s voice came from beyond:
“Pardon me, Your Highness, but may I ask why this omega is so essential? If you tell me, perhaps we could find another—”
“Is there another?” Asgail’s mocking tone cut her off.
Asgail did not reply immediately. In that heavy silence, I wished I could flee, but not even a finger would obey me. Then Asgail spoke slowly:
“I cannot sleep without him.”
I heard Meisa draw a startled breath. Asgail continued, voice laced with irony:
“All those doctors tried every medicine, every method—and it was that useless omega who succeeded. You understand? His pheromones aren’t any different from any other omega’s. In fact, they flare unpredictably—pour them on and no heat cycle comes. It’s most amusing.”
There was no amusement in his tone. Meisa hesitated, then asked:
“And his headaches… have they cleared?”
“As clear-headed as he’s been since manifesting, I’d say.”
Asgail answered without hesitation. When Meisa said nothing, he sneered:
“I don’t know if that makes him an extreme omega, but it means there’s no life in this world without some use. God’s will is truly mysterious.”
His final words sounded like a sneer at himself. “Yes,” Meisa murmured, uncertain whether in embarrassment or confusion. Asgail issued a warning:
“So, Meisa—keep him alive. Prove that you’re more capable than your brother.”
“…Then, will you appoint me chief physician? Even though I’m a woman?”
Meisa’s voice trembled with hope. Asgail replied casually:
“You know I’m not so old-fashioned. I don’t care if you’re a woman—prove your ability.”
“…May your open-mindedness apply to me as well… oh, my apologies.”
Meisa quickly fell into prayerful praise: “I overstep. Please forgive me. May infinite glory be with God, our nation, and the royal family. Have mercy on ignorant me.”
Asgail spoke: “I’ll forgive you this once. Next time I’ll pull out your tongue and feed it to dogs.”
“Thank you for your mercy. May God’s blessings fill Your Highness.”
I summoned every ounce of strength to raise my eyelids. In the blurring light I made out Asgail, seated and watching me. Straining to focus, I heard him say:
“To answer your question: he’s an omega. No better than livestock.”
“…Yes, Your Highness. An apt comparison.”
“We should feed him something, but he won’t awaken…”
Then even that sound vanished, and I lost all awareness.
When I awoke again, I felt clearer. I lay alone on the bed, and in my field of vision was a nurse. She was changing my IV. Our eyes met, and she exclaimed:
“You’re awake! How do you feel? Can you speak?”
She rattled off questions as she checked my monitors. The cuff on my arm inflated—too much air—and she frowned, swapping it for a smaller one. A moment later she sighed.
“Your blood pressure still won’t rise. You’ve lost so much strength. Are you in pain? I’m giving you analgesics, but you must endure. Your condition is too fragile for more.”
I wanted to answer but could not speak. Even moving my lips was beyond me. My eyelids drifted shut as a voice reached me:
“It’s time. His Highness will arrive soon—”
Before I heard more, it was as if a switch flipped, and I drifted into unconsciousness.
About a month passed before I began to improve. I was startled to realize how much time had gone by. I’d stayed in the prince’s chamber the whole while, apparently receiving treatment there since I first lost consciousness. Since I was unconscious most of the time, I knew little of events. I heard in passing that the prince was busy with international meetings and other engagements—perhaps he’d been away from the palace.
As I managed to stay awake longer, Meisa tried to feed me. At first swallowing water was hard, so I lived on IV fluids. When I could handle thin broth, I felt a little better. The day I first ate the rich soup simmered with meat for days, Meisa cheered louder than anyone:
“This is wonderful! You’ll be walking soon.”
I could go to the bathroom with help, but only a few steps before I collapsed or passed out again.
Yet the good news was that my wounds were healing. Meisa told me they had tried everything. I was grateful for their efforts.
Even though an omega was no better than livestock.
Each time I briefly regained consciousness, I overheard talk about me—but all I remembered was that one phrase. It would surface unexpectedly, yet now, as then, I felt nothing. Perhaps I believed it was true. I thought this as I took the last spoonful of soup. Seeing the empty bowl, Meisa smiled brightly. It was the first time I’d finished a bowl since falling ill. She gave me my medicine to prevent infection and, after checking my condition, ordered:
“Rest now, Yohan. You’ve done too much today.”
Lately I’d trained to stay awake through the afternoon so I could sleep deeply at night. As an attendant remade the bed, I lay on the cot for a nap, then returned to the mattress. Sleep claimed me instantly, as it had so often.
Suddenly I became aware again. Half-opening my eyes, I lay in confusion. The night was deep, the hall silent. Moonlight through the window faintly lit the room. I’d never awakened at such an hour. What was happening? I sniffed and caught a sweet scent on the breeze.
At once, my entire body froze. That scent was so familiar—how could I have forgotten? I thought, but I already knew I couldn’t deny it.
Somehow I was lying on my side. My aching back hurt less than before, but I still couldn’t lie flat. I’d only just begun sleeping on my side. As my senses returned, they conveyed my situation: hot body against my back, a heavy arm over my waist, the slow rhythm of deep breathing.
Like a reflex, my body trembled. I didn’t need to see who lay behind me—the reaction spoke for itself.
I gasped and clenched and unclenched my fists. A chill sweat broke out. Against my will, my head turned. Through trembling lips, I breathed raggedly. Then at last I saw him: Asgail, asleep, cradling me in his arms.
“An omega is no better than livestock.”
At that moment, nausea surged up. I tried to scramble off the bed, but pain and weakness immobilized me. I ended up straddling the edge, hunching forward—and vomited onto the floor.