The Omega Who Wasn’t Supposed to Exist

[Rynthall Estate—Imperial Palace Garden, Eight Months Later]

"—You idiot! I told you I'm not sharing my little brother with you!" Elysia stomped her tiny foot, pigtails bouncing as she glared at Crown Prince Kael.

Kael blinked at her, big innocent eyes blinking like a startled puppy. "…But… but Mother said I could also play with your little brother…"

"Never!" Elysia folded her arms dramatically, then leaned in close, her glare sharp enough to cut diamonds. "Don't you dare come near my brother. Because Aunt Sera told me not to trust a man. What if you trap my little brother in your love net!!!"

Lucein and the empress choked.

Then, Lucien groaned from his chair, one hand clutching his enormous belly, the other raising a delicate porcelain cup. He looked like both a saint and a man seconds away from strangling his child.

Seraphina, sitting beside him, tried (and failed) to look stern. In reality, she looked immensely proud. Meanwhile, the Empress shifted uncomfortably in her seat, torn between laughing and dying of secondhand embarrassment.

"I…" The Empress cleared her throat delicately. "… I suppose little Elysia is going to grow up to be a very… protective sister."

"Protective?" Sera scoffed with smug pride. "That's bravery. Just like me. Hah!"

Lucien sipped from his cup with all the grace of a man trying to ignore the odd tightening in his stomach. "Yes, yes, bravery is all very well. But she still needs to learn how to talk properly with royals. She's getting far too bold."

Sera clicked her tongue. "What are you saying, Luce? A woman should always be bold, always brave. Otherwise, some foolish man will wrap her in his net."

Lucien sighed, rubbing his temple. "I'm not saying she shouldn't be brave, Sera. I'm saying she should also learn respect. Do you remember Prince Kael's second birthday? When she shouted at him for taking too long to cut the cake?"

The Empress's composure cracked. A laugh slipped out, soft and musical. "They're children. They'll learn eventually. But—" She suddenly turned toward Sera with a wicked smirk. "Speaking of men with nets… when are you getting married to Lord Callen?"

Sera choked on her tea so violently that half the garden attendants panicked. "M-M-Married?! He—he hasn't even proposed to me yet!"

Then sera gritted her teeth in anger. "That bastard...is he fooling me or what?"

Lucien chuckled weakly, leaning back with his hand still resting on his stomach. His smile was sweet, but his body tensed again as a strange ripple of sensation tightened low in his belly.

Huh? Was that—?

No...no way. He ignored it. It's too early… only eight months…

Elysia, meanwhile, was still tormenting poor Kael. "Listen, Princey," she said, hands on her hips. "If you even try to steal my little brother, I'll—" she paused dramatically, looked around, then whispered, "...I'll bite you."

Kael's jaw dropped. "B-bite me?!"

"Yes." Elysia nodded seriously. "Right on the nose."

The Empress buried her face in her hands. "Goddess above, this child is going to destroy the throne before she even grows up."

Sera wheezed into her teacup. "Don't worry… if she can terrify your son this much now, imagine what she'll be like as a teenager."

The Empress gave him a look equal parts dread and resignation. "Oh, don't remind me."

And still, beneath the laughter and gossip, Lucien's belly tightened again—harder this time. A strange wetness trickled between his thighs. He stiffened but kept his teacup raised, smile brittle.

Too early. It's only eight months. Maybe… maybe it's just bloating from too many pastries and tea.

But the sensation didn't fade. It grew sharper, deeper. He clenched the armrest of his chair, beads of sweat forming at his temples.

Am I… bloating that much? Goddess, this can't—

"Mama?"

Elysia's little voice sliced through the chatter. Lucien forced his lips into a weak smile, though it wavered with pain. "...Yes, my little star?"

She tilted her head, blinked innocently, then pointed a finger at his lap. "Why are you… peeing?"

. . .

. . .

The entire garden froze.

The Empress froze, teacup midair.Seraphina froze, mouth hanging open.Even poor Kael froze, blinking innocently.

Lucien blinked down, followed the line of his daughter's finger—

—and trembled. His pale cheeks flushed crimson as he saw the spreading wetness beneath him. He calmly looked at Sera and Empress.

"I… I think…" His voice cracked, breath shallow, "…my water just broke."

. . .

. . .

. . .

Sera and Empress brain buffered for a moment.

And then—

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!"

The Empress nearly toppled her chair. Sera's shriek sent birds scattering from the palace trees. Elysia and Kael got horrified.

"Don't just sit there, DO SOMETHING!" Sera screeched, already flapping her hands like a panicked hen. "SOMEONE CALL THE PHYSICIAN!! THE MIDWIVES!! THE IMPERIAL GUARDS!! CALL SILAS!!"

Lucien groaned, clutching his belly as another wave of pain tightened. His knuckles whitened against the chair. "Ahhh—Gods above… Why now… it's too soon—!"

The Empress leapt to her feet, skirts flying, voice booming like a battlefield commander. "Guards! Run! FASTER! If you return slower than a gallop, I will have your heads!"

Elysia hopped onto the chair, tugging at her mama's sleeve, eyes round and terrified. "MAMA!! What's the matter? Mama...Wahhhh...Don't worry—I'll protect you from baby brother! I'll tell him to stop bullying you!"

Lucien gave a weak, painful laugh, sweat dripping down his temple. "M-my sweet star… I don't think he'll listen this time… AGHHH—the pain is growing."

Another contraction hit—sharp, stealing his breath. He doubled over, gripping his belly with both hands now. His teeth clenched, his back arched against the pain. "Nnnghh—ahhh—!!"

Sera grabbed his arm, panic written across her face. "Breathe, Luce! Just—just breathe! Oh gods, what do I do?! Why didn't I bring hot towels?! Or—wine! Should I bring wine?!"

The Empress smacked her shoulder. "Idiot, wine is not medicine!"

"IT HELPS ME!" Sera shrieked back, nearly in tears.

Meanwhile, poor Kael was frozen to the spot, eyes saucer-wide, whispering in horror, "…Is he… is he dying?"

That was all it took. Elysia's little body stiffened, her eyes went glassy, and then she burst into sobs so loud they seemed to rip the sky apart.

"WAAHHHHH! MAMA! MAMA PLEASE! Don't go—don't leave—Mamaaa!" She clutched at Lucien's skirts with her tiny fists, face blotchy with terror.

Lucien gasped, breath shattering as another wave of pain struck, and his trembling hands reached for his daughter, brushing her cheek weakly.

"Shhh… my little star… I—I'm not leaving you… I p-promise…" His voice cracked, eyes glistening with both pain and desperate love.

The Empress whipped around toward the palace doors, her face no longer soft, no longer maternal—she was a queen declaring war. Her voice boomed across the garden like thunder.

"FIND THE DUKE! NOW! BRING HIM THIS INSTANT! TELL HIM HIS OMEGA IS IN LABOR!"

Servants scattered like frightened birds, skirts flying, boots pounding across marble paths. Guards roared commands, the once-serene garden becoming a battlefield of panic.

"No! Too late—he's collapsing—!" cried Sera, fumbling with her trembling hands as Lucien sagged.

A knight pushed forward, eyes blazing with duty. He dropped to one knee beside Lucien, scooping him up with surprising gentleness despite the armor clinking against his chest.

"I… I shall carry him!" the knight declared, voice shaking yet firm. He rose to his feet, Lucien in his arms, blood and water dampening his sleeve.

The air erupted."Clear the path!""Make way for the Omega!""Send for the physician, NOW!"

Elysia shrieked, trying to run after her Mama as her tiny hands reached out desperately, only to be scooped up by a trembling maid.

"MAMAAAAAA! MAMAAA!" her wails echoed through the marble halls, a siren's cry cutting sharper than any trumpet.

And so, with the Empress shouting orders like a general, guards clattering in full armor, maids stumbling over their own skirts, and the Omega's soft cries of pain echoing through the palace corridors—the once gentle garden was transformed into a storm of chaos.

***

[Later—Imperial Palace]

"AGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! IT HURTS!!!!!!"

Feylen rushed in, cloak flying, voice breaking like a whip. "Where is Lord Lucien?!"

The Empress and Sera stood rigid outside the chamber, their faces pale. The Empress's hand gripped the doorframe as she answered breathlessly, "He's inside… he's already inside!"

Without waiting, Feylen shoved past, eyes burning with urgency. "Call the Grand Duke—NOW! An early birth can be deadly for a weak Omega like him. We need him urgently—"

And then—

THUD!

The sound rattled the corridor. Everyone froze.

Sera's face drained of color. She whispered hoarsely, "D-did he just say… deadly?"

The Empress turned slowly, her jaw clenched so tight it could cut glass. "Yes… he did." Her voice was low at first, then she snapped like a whip, eyes blazing.

"YOU!" She pointed at her imperial knights, who nearly toppled over in their haste to bow. "DRAG THE NEWLY APPOINTED PRIEST—THE BEST ONE, DO YOU HEAR ME? Not the lazy ones. The best! And if they don't arrive within the next five minutes…" She lifted her chin, her tone ringing like a death bell, "…tell them they will spend their entire priesthood rotting in the Imperial Dungeon. With rats."

The knights' eyes went wide. "Y-Yes, Your Majesty!" they chorused, stumbling over each other as they sprinted away, boots clattering like a stampede of horses.