"Name?"
"My name is River. This is Paul and the young man here is Johann. We're commoners so we don't have a surname, sir. We previously work as mercenaries."
The gate guard narrowed his eyes, studying their faces a beat too long before finally tossing a small plaque into River's hand. "Alright, here," he muttered.
"Tsk. More mercenaries and commoners." His voice dripped disdain.
Rowan, now bound to the name Johann felt his stomach tighten with unease. The plaque in River's hand suddenly seemed too thin and fragile to protect them if anyone looked closer but still, beneath the nerves, something restless stirred inside him.
An excitement he dared not show as his fingers clenched the strap of his sack while the weight of his sword thudded lightly against his hip.
"Will you be joining the knights' enlistment for the northern expedition?"
The three exchanged quick glances then Paul answered calmly. "Yes, sir."
The guard's gaze swept over them, sharp and measuring. "Alright, alright. You boys are betas, then?"
Rowan nearly flinched.
The question was too pointed and the pause was too deliberate as if the guard already suspected. Their eyes lingered on him in particular, cold and prying.
"Yes, of course, sir," Paul said quickly. "We heard the king only accepts betas into his knights here in Evadene…"
"You've heard right," the guard sneered. "Can't have omegas going into heat in the middle of battle, can we?"
The other guards barked out laughter, harsh and mocking. Their voices bounced off the stone walls that each echo like a threat. With a final dismissive wave, they allowed River, Paul and Rowan through the gates, though the weight of their eyes seemed to follow long after.
When they finally passed through the gates, the world beyond opened up into a lively, bustling market district. The shouts of merchants rang out from wooden stalls stacked with goods, the scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread drifted through the air and children darted between the legs of travelers while laughing as they played.
To their left, rows of watchtowers loomed above while guards in polished armor keeping careful eyes on the crowd below.
River, Paul and Rowan blended into the moving crowd, their pace unhurried and their formation protective as Rowan kept safely in the center, flanked by the two men who had sworn to see him through.
"Looks like you're enjoying yourself, Your Highness…"
Paul leaned in and whispered words to Rowan's ear, cautious not to draw attention.
Rowan's eyes were wide as he turned to him as a boyish awe breaking through his usually guarded expression.
"Yeah… you probably don't know this but it's actually my first time being this close to people. The market, the smells and the noise—it's a lot but I'm really happy… and kind of excited."
Paul's lips curved faintly though his tone stayed stern.
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself but stay sharp, Johann. We've still got a long way to go and there are plenty of eyes on us."
Rowan let out a small breath, steadying himself. "Alright…"
Still, even as he promised caution, his gaze couldn't help but wander. Drawn to the laughter of the children, the glint of silverware displayed on a vendor's table and the colors of silks that fluttered like banners in the breeze. For the first time in his life, the world felt impossibly vast, alive and dangerously within reach.
"Guys, here!"
They heard River's voice cutting through the noise and when they scanned the crowd, they spotted him waving near the inn. With easy smiles, Rowan and Paul followed his lead yet Rowan's own smile faded the instant they stepped inside.
"What the fuck is this?" Mari, inside Rowan's head was screaming out of anger.
The air was thick with sweat, sour ale and something far more suffocating like the pheromones that clung to the skin like grease. In the center of the inn's common room, an omega was forced down on all fours while a stale hunk of bread was stuffed between his teeth to muffle his cries.
An aged man with a patch over one eye rutted into him with brutal rhythm, each thrust making the sword at his hip catch the dim lantern light like a silent threat.
"Ha! Incredible! I didn't know omegas could be this good!" the man roared as his voice cracking with grotesque pleasure. Around them, rough men crowded close as their cheers and laughter swelling with every violent motion, as if the degradation before them were nothing more than drunken sport.
"Hnngh—hng!" The muffled sounds of the omega broke through, raw and desperate.
Rowan froze as the horror tightening in his chest. Then, in a brief, terrible instant, the omega's eyes met his with pleas and desperation. But before Rowan could move, River stepped between them, blocking his view.
"Aren't you going to get a room?" the innkeeper drawled lazily from behind the counter as though the grotesque spectacle were no more than spilled ale. When he noticed the way Rowan, River and Paul stared, his mouth twisted into a smirk.
"What? Don't tell me you're shy. Do you want to join in?" His eyes gleamed with cruel amusement.
"That omega will be free tonight… for the right price."
When River and Paul heard the innkeeper's words, their eyes instinctively flicked to Rowan. His face had gone pale and his lips parted as if the breath had been stolen from him. In that instant, he realized what his future could become if anyone discovered his secret and what it truly meant to be an omega in this kingdom.
"Oh, my apologies, good sir," River said quickly, forcing a chuckle as though nothing were amiss. "It seems the one we're searching for is at another inn. We must've gotten the wrong place…" He made a show of glancing around the lobby.
"Hngh…please, I c-can't anymore…" The desperate, broken voice of the omega behind them echoed through the hall with the laughter of men around.
"Tch, I spilled inside him. Filthy little hole can take it, though."
"Careful, what if the whore passes out again? Well, not that it matters."
"Pull out already! I want to hear him moan for me next."
Rowan's stomach lurched so he was the first to step outside, nearly stumbling in his haste. Then Paul followed immediately, glancing back only once. As for River, he lingered for some more minutes, making idle chatter with the innkeeper to mask their sudden departure before slipping out after them.
"Johann, wait! Johann!" Paul called but Rowan barely heard him as his mind spun out of control.
Shit! Fuck! We just got here and that's what I see?! Oh god, no, I can't! Is that what's waiting for me if they find out?
"Johann!" River's voice cut through Rowan's panic as he hurried to his side, his hand closing firmly on his shoulder.
His tone dropped to a gentle, urgent whisper. "Breathe… please, calm yourself. I should've checked before bringing you there and I'm sorry for that. But hear me, we won't ever let something like that happen to you. Do you truly think His Grace Magnus would allow us to live if we failed to protect you?"
"He's right, Johann," Paul said, steady and reassuring as he laid a hand on Rowan's other shoulder.
"You're safe with us so take a breath. We'll find another inn somewhere better and safe."
Rowan's chest heaved as he forced himself to steady his breathing while his hands still trembled as he pressed them against his sides.
"O-okay… I'm sorry…"
"Oh, no. Please, don't say that," River murmured quickly, his voice soft with guilt.
"You have nothing to apologize for."
For a moment, the three stood in the shadow of the bustling street while the laughter and noise of the market was still echoing around them. Yet Rowan felt as though the world had narrowed, pressing against him with a truth he could no longer ignore: in this kingdom, omegas were prey.
Meanwhile, high above in his chamber, Zalyric sat by the window while carefully running a soft cloth along the gleaming edge of his sword.
His gaze, however, was fixed outside while watching the knights train in the courtyard below.
"Hmm… they sure are full of energy early this morning."
"We had two hundred recruits but only fifty endured," Evan, his aide, reported from the corner. "Most couldn't withstand the methods of our training."
Zalyric's lips curved faintly but not quite a smile. "Well, I can't have knights slacking off, can I?"
"Of course, Your Majesty."
"Are they all commoners?"
"Thirty are commoners and twenty came from mercenary. As per your rule, sire, they are all betas."
Zalyric slid the cloth from the blade one last time before sheathing it with a soft click. Then he turned to Evan, expression carved into boredom, though a sharper gleam hid behind his eyes.
"Good. Commoners break easier but mercenaries know how to kill. If any prove themselves useless, just kicked them out, understood?"
Evan bowed his head in silence.