“Valentine Wiche.”

A dark blue velvet box, similar to the color of his naval uniform.

A small box that fit completely in his palm. A box whose contents anyone could clearly guess.

The sleep that had been creeping in suddenly fled at the polite use of formal speech and his full name. Valentine’s eyes widened.

“Th-this is…?”

Reynard lightly kissed Valentine’s lips as he stammered in surprise.

Chuu.

The lips that touched briefly but lovingly stopped the omega’s words.

It was a serious gaze as if asking for a chance to speak. Valentine closed his mouth and looked straight at him tensely.

“From that brief moment when we first met, when you completely captivated my eyes, I knew. That you were my omega.”

His breath caught in his surprised chest.

It might be a classic and cliché line, but was it because it was him saying it? Though the polite tone was gentlemanly and formal, somehow it felt forceful.

“The only person who could accept me.”

Reynard slowly opened the velvet box and continued speaking while looking straight into Valentine’s eyes.

“I want to always be with you.”

“Ah…”

“Marry me.”

A blue diamond that could be called the treasure of the century was sparkling before his eyes. It was a ring with a gem the size of a plum pit. And the alpha’s strong gray eyes, which showed not a trace of anxiety about being rejected, also sparkled before Valentine.

Sparkle from above, sparkle from below…

‘It’s… it’s too much pressure!’

In his head, his words echoed repeatedly.

[Marry me.]

Good heavens. What on earth is this…?

Unlike earlier when he had naturally clung to Reynard, Valentine, who had fully regained his senses after finding stability from sufficient alpha pheromones, felt cold sweat run down his spine.

Moreover, he had never imagined receiving a proposal in the bedroom, looking like a sweaty patient.

It was clearly not an appropriate atmosphere for a proposal, and to receive one in such a confused and dizzy state. Valentine unknowingly hurriedly fixed his hair that was matted with sweat.

‘Is the lack of delicacy innate?’

Furthermore, the appearance of the one presenting the ring was perfect on its own.

Just like on the day of the ball when they first met, he gaped at his perfectly groomed attire. No wonder he thought he had come wearing an excessively formal tailcoat…

Valentine looked back and forth between himself and him. Was this the prince and the pauper? And that excessively handsome face smiling perfectly, showing off its smoothness…. He looked up and down again at the hair that was perfectly styled without a trace of dishevelment. Somehow, he felt very much in contrast with himself, who looked like an unwashed patient to anyone’s eyes.

‘Can this person actually see what I look like…?’

He had thought the cravat and vest looked particularly splendid today, but he didn’t realize it was an expression of the mindset to propose perfectly regardless of how shabby the other person looked.

“I quickly adjusted the size of an heirloom ring because there wasn’t time. This is the engagement ring, but we’ll have our wedding rings made to your liking separately.”

‘Ack! Stop pushing!’

While presenting a ring that seemed fit for the empire’s treasures, his words were like saying ‘It’s a pity this old thing won’t satisfy you’. But for Valentine, even this ring was already excessive and overwhelming. He trembled in fear looking at something that seemed like it should be placed in a glass case in the center of a museum.

“Try it on quickly. I matched it to the color of your beautiful eyes.”

A large hand approached as if to put the ring on. Reynard took out the ring boasting a brilliant blue light from inside the velvet-lined box.

Indeed, the ring was not a deep blue like other blue gems. It was emitting a beautiful color somewhere between a mysterious blue-green and sky blue. It really was the same color as Valentine’s eyes. Valentine had never seen such a gem even among his mother’s treasures.

Staring blankly at it, Valentine fell into a whirl of thoughts.

‘How on earth did my life come to this point…?’

He couldn’t believe the crossroads of life he was standing at now.

Wasn’t this person he met to escape the snare of ‘marriage to the 3rd Prince’…?

Of course, it was true that he had avoided the path of death through this person. But just when he thought he had finally found freedom, marriage again, which is comparable to the swamp of life, me…? It was like running away from a snake only to enter a tiger’s den.

It was true that this alpha was perfectly his ideal type in appearance. And he was very affectionate, so the time spent together wasn’t bad. But isn’t marriage a different matter…?

‘Isn’t being the Prince’s consort or the future Grand Duchess the same thing…?’

It was the exact opposite of the life Valentine wanted, with its weight being enormously heavy.

It was truly a case of one mountain after another. Just when he thought he had finally found a free life…

“Why aren’t you answering?”

Valentine looked alternately at the ring and Reynard’s face while hiding his small white hands behind his back. Seeing him only opening and closing his mouth without saying anything, he asked sharply. Somehow, veins even seemed visible on his forehead…

“Ah… um…”

Unable to meet those sharp eyes, he rolled his eyeballs around. Then, the arm holding Valentine’s waist tightened.

“Don’t you want to marry me?”

If he answered that he didn’t want to marry, it seemed like the arm wrapped around him would immediately tighten and fold his spine.

“Well…”

Valentine’s sense of reading the situation and atmosphere was alive enough not to immediately affirm.

‘What’s with this face that looks like he’ll kill me if I say no…?’

Now sweat was starting to seep into his scalp too.

“Is that really how you feel?”

His persistence was on the level of tracking down a con artist who had run off with money. Or perhaps a parent’s enemy…

Seeing the fierce gaze, Valentine hesitated before finally opening his mouth.

“I’ve never thought about marriage yet…”

“Then when were you planning to think about it?”

In reality he had never thought about it, but saying he had never thought about it at all would be a lie, so Valentine quickly racked his brain.

“Maybe around thirty…?”

Hearing those words, Reynard put on a picture-perfect gentle smile and asked softly. While brushing away Valentine’s hair that had fallen onto his forehead with his fingers.

“Valentine, do you happen to know when your mother, the Viscountess Wiche, got married?”

Is this a quiz? How did you know I like answering questions! Valentine eagerly answered like a quiz participant raising his right hand to give the correct answer.

“20 years old?”

I think I heard it was around that time.

“When do most omegas around you get married?”

“Early twenties?”

“That’s right. Usually omegas find a mate and get married as soon as they become adults. If not, it’s difficult to get through heat cycles and there are many dangerous or uncomfortable points.”

“That’s true.”

“And how old are you now?”

“20 years old?”

Correct! I’m 20 years old! Valentine answered with a bright smile.

And silence fell between the two facing each other. Valentine had dug his own hole again with his own words.

“Well then, now that we’ve put aside the talk of never having thought about marriage, you understand it’s time to think about it, right?”

“Yes…”

Like an idiot falling for the leading questions, he ended up throwing away ‘Excuse 1’. Valentine racked his brain again and came up with ‘Excuse 2’.

“I’m not suitable for the position of Grand Duke’s consort…”

“That’s for me to decide, so overruled.”

That shameless face saying you’re already the Grand Duchess in my heart.

“There are still many things I want to do…”

“You can do them after we’re married, so overruled. I’ll let you do everything you want.”

That face packaged like a god of mercy saying generously that he would allow everything.

“We haven’t known each other for long…”

“Is time important? Have you forgotten that you said you liked my pheromones?”

That bold face that dredges up words spoken by an omega weak to temptation, drunk on pheromones and alcohol, and brings them to the surface in broad daylight.

“We don’t know much about each other…”

“We can get to know each other going forward. I’ll accept you no matter what kind of person you are.”

Again, he’s become the savior of mercy and tolerance.

Like some Virgin Mary, or a messiah coming to save this land, Valentine ran out of excuses in the face of that grand and broad ambition to accept everything. No, I don’t even know properly yet how I might act like a total mess…! Valentine couldn’t help but stick out his tongue, thinking what truly amazing tolerance this was.