Rowan froze, blinking at the unexpected intimacy.
W-what the hell is going on? Why is he blushing?
The Grand Duke's cheeks were tinged with pink while his piercing blue eyes softening as he squeezed Rowan's hand slightly. "Let's go to the Pavilion," he said, voice low and surprisingly gentle. "I asked them to prepare some tea to your liking, my prince."
"Oh, alright… sir—your grace, I mean."
Ugh, seriously? This stupid mouth of mine can't even get it right! Mari groaned inside while panic bubbling up her chest.
Rowan's mind then whirled, still fighting with the sudden physical contact and the stranger's closeness. And when they finally reach the pavilion, the man spoke again and his tone was carrying a weight that made Rowan's confusion deepen.
"I was really shocked when you asked me during the banquet, my prince," the Grand Duke confessed while his gaze holding Rowan's with an intensity that made his heart pound.
"But if it will truly make you happy… then I, Magnus Duskbane, will help you with all that I have."
Bathump… Bathump… Whatttt?
What the hell, why am I hearing my heart now?
Before Rowan could even respond, Magnus leaned slightly closer, pressing a soft, deliberate kiss to the back of his hand and the warmth of the gesture, coupled with the way Magnus's eyes lingered on him, looking almost intimately, sent Rowan's thoughts spinning.
What… is happening? How does he even know I want to leave? Did Rowan seriously tell him? And why does this feel so… weird?
Wait—are Rowan and this guy, Magnus, a thing? Are we… in a relationship? Is he even an alpha?
Oh my god—am I actually in a relationship now, after six years of being single?
The mix of fluster, fear and unexpected curiosity coiled tight in Rowan's chest leaving him more bewildered than ever. His mind struggled to process the words, the touch and the silent promise behind Magnus's eyes- help, protection and perhaps something more.
"Y-your Grace… did I really ask you to help me escape?" Rowan's voice trembled while his hands nervously twisting at the edge of his robe. His heart hammered in his chest and each beat echoing like a drum against his ribs.
"Yes," Magnus replied softly, his blue eyes locking onto Rowan's with unwavering intensity.
"Here, in this kingdom, omegas such as yourself, my prince, are not allowed to wield a sword. You deserve more than chains and limits so I will help you."
Rowan's mind spun.
Why is he calling me "my prince"? Why's he being so formal with me?
Wait… are we actually lovers? But… I don't remember Rowan having a lover in the manhwa yet…
The sudden intimacy of Magnus' words made his cheeks burn, like a flustered heat spreading to his ears.
Rowan's breath caught when Magnus leaned in and pressed his lips against his. The kiss was soft at first but quickly grew hotter, mixed with a faint release of pheromones that made Rowan's body tremble.
W-what? Why is he kissing me? Should I pull away?
The thought barely stayed in his mind before it was swallowed up by the rush of sensation. The world felt like it was spinning and the noises from the courtyard and the servants disappeared, leaving only the sound of their racing heartbeat.
His chest tightened as warmth spread through his body—different and overwhelming like something he had never experienced before, not even back when he was a woman. In that heat, Magnus's lips became more demanding, pulling him in with insistence and a feeling that carried possession, longing as well as raw need.
Then Rowan's resistance weakened.
His lips parted before he even realized it and heat built low in his stomach as his own pheromones slipped out, heavy with confusion and desire.
And Magnus caught the scent right away, his reaction was strong and then the kiss deepened as his tongue slid past Rowan's lips with hungry urgency, stealing Rowan's breath and pulling a helpless sound from his throat.
"Hngh… Y-your Grace…" Rowan gasped, almost pulling away as the words slipped from his lips. But Magnus gave no reply, he only drew him back in and refusing to let go.
Their bodies leaned into each other as warmth pressing together, both of them caught in the moment with eyes closed and breaths tangled. Neither pulled away now and both are savoring the fire that only grew stronger the longer their lips stayed connected.
Shit, this is too much for my heart!
After several minutes, Magnus pulled away and cupped both of Rowan's cheeks in his hands, thumb brushing lightly over the flushed skin while tears glimmered in his eyes.
"I like you, my prince. I really… really like you. If it were just my feelings, I wouldn't want you to leave but if this is your choice, if it will truly make you happy… then I will set aside my own desires for you."
Rowan's breath hitched while his own cheeks flamed with heat and his chest throbbed not just from fear or confusion but from something far deeper, far more intimate. The trembling of Magnus's hands, the sincerity in his eyes and the quiver of his lips
—it all mirrored the whirlwind of emotions raging inside him.
What am I even supposed to say? I'm not the Rowan you like, you idiot!
For the first time, Mari felt the sharp, confusing thrill of being cared for—something that cut through the layers of guilt, shame and disbelief she had carried. Her heartbeat pounded so fast it hurt, each pulse syncing with the warmth in Magnus's gaze and the gentle pressure of his hands cradling her face.
I'm not even Rowan! I'm not the guy Magnus likes! Mari screamed inside his head, shaken by the sincerity shining from this Grand Duke.
Rowan thought, breathless, as Magnus's forehead gently rested against his.
Seriously, am I really inside the manhwa right now, or did I just die and end up in heaven? Because nothing makes sense! Are these things actually real or just some crazy illusion my brain cooked up? Or worse, am I dreaming all of this and about to wake up in my boring old life again? Ugh, what the hell is going on?!
The silence that followed was thick and intimate, broken only when Magnus leaned in once more, his lips brushing Rowan's as their pheromones mingled in the air.
What convinced Rowan even more that there might truly be something between them was the simple fact that Magnus's scent didn't make him recoil—it didn't rot in his lungs the way his brother's pheromones did. Instead, it wrapped around him, warm and strangely comforting.
"Hmm… should I just take him with me, then?"