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'Please accept this.'

Silas' hand trembled. He really didn't want to do this. Truly, he wondered why he was doing this and how he could find the courage to do it. Whatever it was, he was confused himself, so he refused to raise his head, not daring to meet the gaze of the man standing before him.

He didn't know what had come over him to the point where he wrote this letter, spending an entire night thinking of the right words to express his feelings. He even desperately learned how to bake just to present it to this man. He didn't make a big cake, only a small size, knowing that this man must have received many gifts, and surely his family had already prepared a celebratory cake for his birthday. So Silas decided to bake a carrot cake—one that wasn't too sweet and would taste great with a warm glass of milk.

There was only silence. The man didn't speak—but Silas could hear the rustling of clothes as the man moved.

Then, a few seconds later, he asked, 'Why?' His voice was cold. 'Why should I accept it?'

Upon hearing that question, Silas slowly lifted his head. The man's face was expressionless, and his gaze was cold, an icy look that seemed permanent. The color of his eyes always made Silas shiver—crystallyne blue, almost as if they were transparent—it was a beautiful color yet unsettling.

'You're an omega, aren't you?' he continued. 'Tell me, why should I accept food from an omega? Are you sure you haven't put something strange in it?'

Silas remained silent.

He knew the man's nature, so he shouldn't have been surprised. But hearing the question with such a cold tone, and the suspicion that laced it, made him slightly offended. He understood the skepticism about food—after all, the man was the child of a Grand Duke, and he had to be cautious about what he consumed. Silas tried to stay calm and said,

'I'm the son of Baron Conrad von Steinmar, so if you were to get sick from eating my cake, it would be obvious who the culprit is. And that wouldn't be good for my father's reputation if his son harmed a grand duke's son. I'm not about to commit suicide in such a manner.'

Somehow, Silas thought he saw the corner of the man's lips curl upward for a fraction of a second, but he didn't see it again, and Silas wondered if he had hallucinated it.

As the man extended his hand to take the box containing the cake, Silas experienced a moment of nervousness that made him quickly turn his body. He slipped the letter, which was hidden under the box, into his pocket before facing the man again to present the cake. The man raised an eyebrow in mild surprise at Silas' actions, but fortunately, he didn't ask any questions.

'Thank you.'

He said, still with that expressionless gaze. Silas was glad to hear it, his heart pounding fast—honestly, this was the first time he had ever been this close to the man, and there was no one else in the garden. He could feel his forehead starting to sweat, so Silas quickly wiped it away. It was strange; his chest felt hot, and suddenly his vision blurred.

Poof—

No way.

Silas felt a dampness in his lower body—this couldn't be happening now, not in this situation—he was indeed a male omega with purple eyes, a very rare type of omega, whose existence had once been considered a myth. The majority of the world's population consisted of beta.

At his current age, Silas had thought it was too late for him to manifest, and he had never believed himself to be an omega. He didn't emit pheromones, had never experienced a heat cycle—but it seemed that everything changed now, as he was clearly experiencing the signs of an omega going into heat while releasing a strong pheromone.

The scent of his pheromones intensified, and Silas, for the first time, found himself completely bewildered, unsure of how to control it. His legs weakened, and he sank down, clutching his stomach. For the first time, Silas smelled the bitter pheromones of an alpha—clearly signaling his dislike.

Silas raised his head, and through his blurred vision, he saw the man drop the cake he had been handed. He covered part of his face, and though Silas couldn't fully see his expression, the furrow in his brow was unmistakable—he was disgusted by Silas, who sat there, weak and vulnerable.

'Disgusting omega.'

The man spoke, his voice dripping with harshness.

'This is exactly why I despise omegas. Did you really think this cunning trick would make me fall for you?'

'No, I'm... this... I don't know why this is happening all of a sudden....'

A small bottle of suppressant was tossed near his knees. The man muttered again, 'Take that, suppressant. Did you think that just because I'm an alpha, you could trick me with something so low? Don't you have any shame? Is your self-worth really so cheap that you'd throw yourself at an alpha like this?'

Silas quickly shook his head. He wanted to explain that he had no intention of doing such a thing, but the man didn't even give him a chance to speak.

The harsh, venomous words kept coming from the man's mouth, and Silas, overwhelmed, lowered his head while gripping the bottle of suppressant.

'Ah, you're the child of Baron Conrad von Steinmar. No wonder you act this way, that greedy, corrupt old man must have told you to approach me. Give up, I hate omegas. Tell your father that. I despise someone whose bloodline is that of a whore.'

Without mercy, the degrading words flowed easily from his red lips. The man left him alone, leaving Silas to stare vacantly at the destroyed cake on the ground.

'..... I failed to bake it over and over again, and I kept trying again and again until the cake was perfect... haa...'

Opening the bottle, Silas swallowed a few suppressant pills, wincing at the bitter taste that lingered on his tongue. He continued to stare at the cake—the cake he had poured his heart into.

What had he expected? Wasn't his cold and distant nature, so hard to approach, not a secret? Everyone knew that, and even at this school, he only kept company with nobles and elite families whose wealth nearly matched his own.

Silas wiped his eyes, feeling sad, but he was glad there were no tears there. While trying to clean up the scattered cake, random apples, out of nowhere, fell right on his head, there was no tree near him so why— Silas let out a cry of pain—

"!!!!!!!!!"

Silas straightened up, his hands gripping something soft, and he realized he had just woken up from his sleep.

Combing his hair back, Silas laughed quietly, "Why am I dreaming about that incident again... ha, is it because I'm too nervous today...—wait a minute, today?!"

He immediately jumped out of bed to check the calendar, where he had marked the date with black ink. Today, Friday, was the night he would have dinner at the Wittenheim mansion to officially seal his relationship with Alric.

That must have been what triggered the memory of that event years ago, back when he was still in middle school. The memory of being utterly rejected before he even had the chance to confess his feelings.