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Silas didn't know how to respond to that. But it was somewhat amusing to hear someone like Alric asking to be his friend. He quickly chewed the last bit of bread in his mouth before speaking.

"…That would be a little awkward for us to be friends. Considering .... our current status."

"Haven't I already told you not to think about that?"

"You're right… Yeah, I guess it's not such a bad thing." Silas lowered his gaze. How was he supposed to tell the man staring at him now that he didn't have many friends? He didn't really know how to interact with other people.

If it was just about knowing people's names, then sure—Silas knew plenty. But when it came to having someone he could truly call a friend, someone he was close enough with to trust, he wasn't confident he could name anyone.

A friend was someone who would be there for you, listen to your complaints, comfort you—someone to share your stories with.

He blinked as a face surfaced in his memory. Someone he had nearly forgotten—a man who worked as Father Tobias's assistant, his prospective successor. Well, he did often confide in the priests at church, but that didn't necessarily mean they were friends.

It had been a while since he last visited. Maybe if Alric allowed him to go out, he could stop by the church to see that man.

"What are you thinking about, Silas?"

Alric's sudden question startled him a little, and he let out a quiet laugh.

"Nothing, really… Ah."

"Hm?"

"Karen told me that you were the one who brought over the packages my father sent to this house, right? I forgot to thank you. So… thank you, Alric."

"It was nothing."

Oh yeah… Tomorrow would be his last day of staying here so leisurely. He would be returning to his father's office to help him again. Alric surely already knew this—after all, even though Silas was now a consort, he was still his father's assistant in the company.

At least, there hadn't been any talk of someone replacing him yet.

"Alric, may I borrow your bicycle? I saw one in the storage, and I was thinking of using it tomorrow."

Alric paused, his fork mid-air, then raised an eyebrow at Silas. "A bicycle? Of course, you can, but don't go too far from the Wittenheim estate."

"Ugh, I mean—..."

Don't tell me he doesn't know? That would be impossible. There was no way Alric wasn't aware.

Silas wasn't the primary wife, the future duchess who would eventually hold control over Wittenheim's wealth. Even duchesses often continued their work after marriage, depending on the agreement between both parties.

His job was important to him. At the very least, he wanted to earn his own money. There was no contract stating that he had to leave his job behind and simply lounge around in Wittenheim.

Or… had he overlooked something in their agreement?

"What do you mean?" Alric asked.

"I'm still my father's assistant, so tomorrow I'll be going back to his office… My father, let's say he's good at business, but it's hard for him to maintain his business partners. He also tends to fall for fraudulent investments, so I'm a little worried… Didn't you know about that?"

"Oh, I know… Your father owns a lot of land and hotels, which is impressive for a man like him."

A man like him… At that comment from Alric, Silas couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Ha, yeah… So you're going to work tomorrow… Tsk."

The crease in Alric's forehead clearly showed how much he disliked this conversation.

"Or… am I not allowed to work and should focus on your pheromone recovery instead?" Silas hesitantly brought up that topic. Since the beginning, that's their main agreement.

"That's not what I meant."

Alric wasn't someone who showed a lot of expressions, but it was amazing how Silas could tell his mood had worsened. No—more precisely, it seemed Alric had accidentally let his emotions slip in front of him.

"I don't want you working with your father anymore… Yeah, I think I won't allow it." Alric continued. He no longer touched the food left on his plate.

"But that wasn't written in the agreement."

And even if Silas didn't work with his father, there were still several projects they had to finish together. If Alric wanted him to resign, then he had no choice but to obey. Just admitting that fact irritated him, making him fully aware of how powerless he was.

"Don't make that face, Silas."

"What face?"

"Your eyes… they look like you hate yourself. I don't like that."

"I'm not—I'm…" Silas pressed his lips together. "It's okay, I'll quit."

Alric clicked his tongue, and it startled Silas slightly because he caught a faint scent of bitter pheromones emanating from him. And as if realizing what he had just done, Alric abruptly stood up from his chair.

"Sorry. We'll talk about this later."

Then he left the dining table, his plate still filled with untouched food. The sound of his footsteps climbing the stairs echoed loudly.

Silas went to his room to check the agreement documents, and sure enough, there was no clause requiring him to quit his job. So what had made Alric so upset?

When he stepped out of his room, Silas walked down the hallway at a slow pace. There were many doors leading to empty rooms, but then he heard the sound of something falling like a glass shattering—coming from the very last room at the end of the hall, right next to the library. That room was always locked.

Concerned by the loud noise, Silas quickly made his way over and pushed the door open just a crack to check. The moment he did, the thick scent of a bitter Alpha pheromone filled the air, clenching around his throat like a vice. But that wasn't what made his face go pale—it was the sight before him that sent him rushing inside.

Alric sat slumped on the floor, a syringe still in his hand.

Blood smeared across his forearm—not enough to make Silas think he was losing too much, but enough to tell that Alric had injected himself repeatedly in the same spot. His back rose and fell with heavy, choked breaths. Silas stepped closer, his instinct urging him to calm the man down.

Was this what his father had meant when he said Alric had unstable pheromones?

Sweat beaded on Alric's forehead, and the sharp, overwhelming scent of his pheromones burned Silas's nose. Any clear-headed Omega would know better than to approach an Alpha in this condition—it was dangerous.

Alric's unfocused eyes barely lifted to meet Silas's as he let out a hoarse whisper, "Get out from here."

But Silas, despite understanding every word, pretended not to hear him. If Alric was in this bad of a state, then why had he refused pheromone therapy from him?

Silas moved closer, wrapping his arms around Alric's trembling body. The man stiffened in his embrace, but Silas ignored it as he released his own calming pheromones.

"No, Silas… don't, I told you… don't do this. What if… I lose control? It'll be dangerous."

Intensifying the soothing scent of his pheromones to drown out Alric's bitterness, Silas tightened his hold.

"Don't say that. Even if you lose control, I won't let you."

Ugh, me and my big mouth— Silas's heart pounded hard. To be honest, he was a little scared. If Alric really did lose control and decided to attack him, he wasn't confident he could fight back. On the topic of a man who had gone to war and won, time and time again—a man far larger than him, whose solid muscles Silas could feel even now beneath his arms as he held him.

Alric's body was still trembling, but it had relaxed slightly. He leaned in, resting his head against Silas's shoulder, inhaling deeply as he took in the scent of Silas's pheromones. His eyes shut, his posture slumped. Silas let him be—if anything, this was good. It was better for him to breathe in the calming pheromones.

They stayed like that for a long time, long enough that Silas's initial fear faded away completely.

Strangely, he felt something damp against his shoulder. If it was sweat, wasn't it too much? That would be concerning. But in the quiet room, with only the two of them inside, Silas finally picked up on the faint, uneven sobs—so quiet that if he hadn't been paying attention, he would've mistaken them for shaky exhales.

Alric's body trembled, his grip on Silas tightening. He never lifted his head—so all Silas could see was that near-white platinum hair.

Is it really that painful for him? Painful enough that Alric, the Grand Duke's son, was crying?

Silas couldn't be sure. But from the wetness on his shoulder, it felt far more like tears than sweat.

To help calm him down even more, Silas gently patted Alric's back. His sobs stopped, but the dampness on Silas's shoulder only spread further.

Ha, this was the first time Silas had ever seen an alpha like this.

"I'm sorry, Silas."

In the silence, Alric finally spoke, his voice hoarse and low.

"It's okay. We should've done this sooner. The therapy, I mean ..."

Alric hugged him—too tightly. Silas let out a small hiss, but the strength in Alric's grip only grew. His body was pushed downward, yet Alric didn't loosen his hold in the slightest.