2. A New Mission

Gio was confused. He remembered seeing the Grand Duke’s sleeping face last night, but couldn’t recall when he himself had fallen asleep… He’d never been one to sleep deeply, yet somehow, he’d drifted off. A dreamless, sweet sleep.

Outside the window, dawn still hadn’t broken—the sky was caught in that dim, early hour. It didn’t feel like he’d slept for long. Mornings in the North must come late.

The window frame was slightly misaligned, letting in a sliver of the North’s cold air—that must’ve been what woke him.

The space beside him was empty. The Grand Duke must have started his morning early. There wasn’t even a hint left behind from where his large body had laid.

In the northern regions of the Empire, the Hannes Mountain Range stretched like a long wall. The area beneath it, named after the range, was called the Hannes Territory—and it accounted for nearly a third of the entire Empire.

It was vast, but much of it was covered in ice, and the threat of monsters descending from the mountains kept the population low. Years ago, the border lord Krauss had brought in a young Grand Duke who had just lost his parents.

The Grand Duke grew up under his care, and around the time he reached adulthood, a high-purity mana stone vein was discovered in the North. From that point, the region began to thrive.

Now that magic had disappeared from the world, people were filled with fantasies of the magical age. Mana stones—remnants of that era—were in such high demand that they couldn’t be mined fast enough. Mining them wasn’t easy either, which made them an incredibly expensive luxury. Even so, they were deeply woven into noble life.

So it was only natural that the nobility would turn their attention toward the North.

The Emperor, already bitter about his own lacking traits, grew even more desperate to eliminate the Grand Duke and take the North for himself. Before, eliminating the Grand Duke would have been enough—but now, he wanted the entire territory in his grasp.

That’s when he decided to use marriage as a method of assassination. And that decision had led to Gio being sent here.

But the Grand Duke was impenetrable. Though he spoke with teasing ease, there wasn’t a single opening—even when completely naked. Gio had never seen anyone like him.

The assassination attempt ordered by the Emperor—one Gio was sent to carry out—had failed. When the Emperor received that news, his fury would surely erupt. Gio could already feel it—the murderous energy, like it was pouring directly onto him.

But this chilling air in the room wasn’t just from the cracked window. Something else was here—lurking in the shadows of the curtains near the window.

Not just one. At least two.

Gio feigned calm, pretending he hadn’t noticed anything, while his eyes subtly scanned the room. Was there anything that could be used as a weapon? Of course not. He was an assassin—no one would leave anything threatening in his bedchamber. Not even a flower vase. Not even a water bottle.

Then he spotted the vanity. More precisely, the gleaming, smooth mirror atop it.

Keeping up the act, Gio calmly sat up on the edge of the bed and placed his bare feet on the floor. The murderous intent in the room felt like needles pricking at his exposed skin.

They had to be from Cove. Sent after word of the failed assassination. There was no way they didn’t know. Either they’d come to extract information, or—if they suspected betrayal—to kill him.

Gio gauged the length of the chain attached to his ankle. Roughly twice the height of an adult. If he moved quickly, he might just reach it. The vanity was closer than the source of the killing intent.

After a quick mental calculation, Gio sprang into action. The chain rattled and clanked behind him as he lunged toward the vanity, stretching his free leg out.

— CRASH

The mirror shattered, glass shards raining down to the floor. Without hesitation, Gio snatched up a large, jagged piece and took a defensive stance.

In that instant, black figures began to emerge from the shadows behind the curtain—blending in so well they’d been invisible until they moved. Their faces were covered, only their eyes showing. Gio couldn’t see them fully, but he knew exactly what was in their hands: blades, blackened and silent.

Trained by Cove, those assassins were taught to pierce a target’s heart without being seen. Just like Gio. They had drilled it tens of thousands of times. Survived hundreds of real missions.

One of them threw a knife.

The moment Gio saw the familiar motion—the subtle shift in weight, the pull of the arm—he leapt backward.

— THUNK

The blade landed right in front of his toes.

Blades like these were even harder to see in dim light. You had to move the moment you saw the throw, or you were as good as dead. Even Gio, who had been bred and built for this, only narrowly avoided death. Any normal person would have already fallen without ever knowing what hit them.

“A traitor, and yet still walking? Tch.”
One of the masked assassins muttered as he scanned Gio’s body.

As Gio backed up again, not even fully resetting his stance, he felt another sharp sense at his head—and dodged again. A second dagger sliced across his chest and embedded into the floor.

A thin red line appeared on his chest. It wasn’t deep, but blood welled up in droplets. If he’d been a moment slower, it would’ve split his skull. Another blade came at him—he tried to dodge, but his leg caught.

The chain snapped taut around his ankle and yanked him down.

— THUD

“Ugh…!”

Pain jolted through his shoulder where he hit the floor, and something warm slid down his cheek. He didn’t even have time to wipe it before springing back up—

Just then, one of the masked figures stepped forward, raising a hand to halt the others. He spoke.

“That’s enough. Gio.”

The voice was familiar. So were the eyes—and the small mole at the corner of his mouth, visible under the mask.

It was Ivan. Gio’s only true companion.

Ivan glanced down at the chain around Gio’s ankle and spoke again, softly—mentioning someone important to both of them.

“Mei…”

A small girl came to mind.

After a pause, Ivan continued.
“Gio. If you betray Cove, they’re going to sell Mei.”

Ivan had always liked that girl. And that girl—Mei—had been taught by Gio. Gio had never had a little sister, but if he did, he thought she would’ve been just like Mei.

His hand was growing slick with blood, and he tightened his grip on the broken mirror shard so it wouldn’t slip.

He remembered her—Mei, with her short hair and cute freckles. Two years younger than him, she’d always grumbled through the harshest training with a pout, but she stuck it out every time. Everyone thought she’d be put into leader training when she manifested as an alpha… and yet now they were just using her for this?

But that was how Cove worked. Children plucked from the streets weren’t people—they were tools. Things. Worth less than the poisons Cove brewed. They’d use anything to complete a mission.

“Form a bond with the Grand Duke. Become his weakness.”

That was why Ivan had come. To deliver their leader’s command. But just as he said it, the bedroom door burst open and knights stormed in.

Moving fast, the knights drew their swords and charged the masked intruders. In the blink of an eye, one was slain outright. Another was stabbed in the gut mid-swing and collapsed. In an instant, two assassins were dead—and Ivan was already at the window.

As the knights lunged, Ivan met Gio’s eyes and mouthed something.

“Get pregnant. Pregnant.”

It wasn’t the same order as before. This—this was the real mission being handed to Gio now.

Then Ivan leapt backward out the window.

A knight followed immediately, diving after him, while another blew a sharp whistle.

— Fweeeeeeeeeeet

The shrill whistle echoed into the cold northern air. Outside, chaos erupted. Within, Gio stood frozen in the middle of it all—surrounded by knights’ bootsteps and steel.

In Cove, there was no such thing as friendship or loyalty. Everyone knew better. You never knew when someone would use your kindness to get you killed. So no one grew attached. No one dared.

But still—he couldn’t help it.
He remembered Mei, panting through those brutal drills, handing him half a tiny cookie with her grimy fingers. Back then, when starvation was routine, a cookie was worth more than gold. And she was the kind of girl who shared it anyway.

And Ivan, the only person from his unit who had survived with him to this point. Gio owed him. Just a little. But even a little was too much in a place like Cove.

So how could he not feel something?

It felt like someone had reached into his chest and clenched his heart in their fist.

He touched his chest, trying to ease the tightness. His shirt was torn and hanging, and his feet were bloodied from the shattered mirror shards.

The Grand Duke said he hated the smell of blood…

Just then, a voice rang out.

“Your Grace, please put that down.”

At the same time, a new pressure surrounded Gio—one unlike the killing intent from earlier. This one was refined, orderly. It was from the Grand Duke’s knights.

Naturally, Gio dropped into a ready stance. It was instinct—what he’d been trained to do his whole life.

The knights raised their swords toward him. The blades gleamed, cold and precise. Some of them glanced briefly at Gio… and he followed their gaze.

In his hand, he still held the mirror shard—its edge stained with blood, dripping onto the floor.

Only then did he realize his palm was burning with pain.

And then—

“Our dear bride’s drawing blood again, I see?”

Standing casually at the door, draping a robe over his shoulders, was the Grand Duke. A cigar rested between his lips, smoke curling lazily into the tense air. He looked as if he were walking into a completely different world.

“I told you to catch the unidentified intruders. Not my bride.”

“But, Your Grace, there’s a chance he could be colluding with them—”

“If he was, he’d have run. You think he’d just stand here?”

“But the shackle—”

“Think Cove wouldn’t know how to unlock that little thing?”
“Stand down. And bring Raphael.”

The Grand Duke stepped fully into the room as the butler nodded silently and disappeared.

“But, Your Grace, we still—”

“I said clean up those bodies and stand down.”

At his firm command, the knights lifted the corpses of the masked assassins and retreated. As the Grand Duke approached, the sound of his boots crunching on glass echoed through the once-pristine bedroom—now littered with broken shards, blood smears, and grimy boot prints. A room that just hours ago had been tidy and warm was now cold and filled with the scent of blood, like the quarters Gio had once known in Cove—surrounded by death and ice.

The chill wind from the still-open window stirred Gio’s thin clothes, making them flutter weakly.

Then, the Grand Duke held out his hand. His strong fingers bore a plain silver ring—the same kind Gio wore. No designs, no jewels. Just the simple wedding bands they had exchanged at the ceremony. It struck Gio then, oddly, that this ring was the only thing he had that wasn’t tied to assassination—and that the Grand Duke had one too.

Gio opened his fingers. The blood-slick shard he was holding clattered to the floor and shattered further. Thankfully, the silver ring on his finger had no blood on it.

“Come here.”

As Gio looked up from the outstretched hand, he saw the mark he’d left on the Grand Duke’s neck—still vividly there. And that brought Ivan’s words back.

What Ivan had said about “bonding” had to be a false mission—a decoy, spoken aloud in case someone from the Grand Duke’s side was eavesdropping. The real mission, pregnancy, had been communicated silently, just for Gio.

Cove had spun their web around him again—this time using Mei. If he betrayed them, they’d sell her. If he failed to get pregnant, they’d sell her. Even if he died before completing the mission, they’d probably still go through with it.

But pregnancy? He was an ultra-recessive omega. Was that even possible? He’d always heard it was nearly impossible. Cross-type pregnancies usually required knotting—and knotting was something only alphas could do.

The Grand Duke might joke with a smirk, but his eyes were always cold as the northern snow. Would someone like him ever knot with an assassin omega?

And if Gio did get pregnant—what would happen to the child?

Lost in that overwhelming spiral of thought, Gio didn’t notice how still he’d become—until that cold voice called again:

“Come here.”

He finally stepped forward—but winced. Something sharp bit into his foot. He could still walk, but each step left behind a fresh, bloody footprint.

When he reached the Grand Duke, the man wrapped a robe over his shoulders and brushed Gio’s cheek with his thumb.

Gio blinked up at him, confused—until he saw the blood on the Duke’s hand. He must’ve cut his cheek without noticing. The Duke looked down at the blood, then brought the smeared finger to his mouth and sucked it clean.

“Hm… Blood’s not really to my taste.”

Why he tasted it at all was a mystery.

Then, he knelt and unlocked the shackle from Gio’s ankle. It wasn’t much—but after two days, Gio felt almost weightless.

“And walking around with your whole chest out… That’s for your husband’s eyes only, you know?”

With that, he pulled the robe tighter over Gio’s body—then suddenly picked him up.

“Ah—what are you—?!”

“Hm. So this is what it takes to get our dear bride to speak. Do you like being held like this?”

No matter how strong the Grand Duke was, Gio was still a man. Being carried like this for the first time in his life left him utterly flustered.

“N-no. Not at all.”

Flustered, Gio shook his head rapidly. The Grand Duke chuckled and started walking.

“Come on. Put your arms around my neck like a proper newlywed.”

Gio hesitated but then, worried he might fall, looped his arms around the Duke’s neck. That brought their bodies even closer—and the Grand Duke’s scent washed over him.

“Now this feels like a honeymoon.”

He carried Gio out of the Grand Duchess’s chambers and into the bedchamber across the hall—his own. The rooms were mirror images of each other, identical in layout but filled with very different air. The Grand Duke’s room was steeped in his scent, and stepping into it made Gio feel like he’d wandered into someone else’s nest.

The feeling was strange enough that he reflexively scratched at his chest.

The Grand Duke caught his wrist.

“What, trying to show me your chest again? All that soft pink skin… Looks just like mine.”

Gio had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but he quickly clutched the robe tighter and covered himself.

Just then, the door opened.

“Ugh… Why’d you call me again…”

“Your Grace, we’ve brought Lord Raphael.”

A man in glasses entered, half-dragging the High Priest into the room.

“So in the end, Cedric brought him.”

“Your Grace, seriously—what now? I was just about to have a nice time with Sei—”

Raphael tried to lean his cheek against Cedric’s face, but Cedric pushed him away, his expression plastered with exhaustion and exasperation.
“Your Grace, since I’ve brought Lord Raphael, I’ll be going now.”

As Cedric turned to leave with a sharp pivot, the high priest grabbed his wrist to stop him—and Cedric responded by kneeing him in the groin.

“Aaaagh—!”

“Well then, I’ll be off.”

With a few dismissive flicks of the hand from the Grand Duke, Cedric dipped his head and limped his way out of the room.

Raphael reached out with regret as if to stop him, but once Cedric was out of sight, he sprang upright with no trace of pain.

Was he faking it? What was that? Gio thought once again that alphas were impossible to understand. He hadn’t been an omega for long, so he was still adjusting to the way trait-bearers thought—but alphas were on another level entirely.

“I was really looking forward to Sei coming to my room for once… but nooo—Bayshark! Why’d you call me again?”

“Raphael, shut up and start the damn treatment.”

Raphael took one look at Gio’s condition and sighed.

“Why’s Your Grace drenched in blood again? You must be really used to bleeding, huh~?”

His voice drawled lazily, but his gaze was icy cold. It was a stark contrast to the warm, teasing tone he used with Cedric. With his golden hair and green eyes, he had seemed charming and soft—but the moment he dropped his expression, the shift was dramatic.

“Stop yapping and get to it already.”

“Aye aye, Your Grace~… How did I end up stuck in this frozen wasteland…”

“Now.”

“He treats me like some healing artifact he stashed away in a drawer…”

Grumbling under his breath, Raphael still reached out and gently placed a hand against Gio’s cheek. Despite his attitude, the golden divine power radiating from his palm was warm and tingled comfortingly as it soaked into the injury.

He examined the bottom of Gio’s foot and scowled.

“What the hell did you step on?”

“A mirror.”

“And why were you stomping on a mirror? What, training for a circus act?”

“……”

Raphael kept talking but never once looked Gio in the eyes. His manner was cold, intentionally dismissive—but Gio wasn’t affected. It was only natural. So he simply waited, still and quiet.

Then Raphael turned to the Grand Duke and shook his head.

“This won’t heal properly unless we remove the glass. Get Sandra. If I patch this up now, the shards might ride the bloodstream.”

It was a bit surprising to learn that not even a high priest could fully heal a wound like this. Still, for Gio, this was already luxury—more care than he’d ever known.

“All done, right?” Raphael stood to leave—but the Grand Duke pressed a firm hand to his shoulder. Raphael winced and looked up, just as the Grand Duke subtly nodded toward Gio’s chest.

Understanding the message, Gio obediently parted the front of his robe.

Raphael’s eyes went wide. “Spicy, aren’t we?”

For some reason, that made the Grand Duke frown. Oh—wasn’t he the one who said earlier that Gio should only show his chest to him?

As if to stake a claim, a thick wave of pheromones suddenly surrounded Gio, making him flinch. Raphael pinched his nose and backed away.

“Your Grace, how am I supposed to treat anyone like this? The smell is too much!”

“Shut up and treat him.”