When he heard Charles returning, Benjamin took a long, steadying breath, straightened his back and smoothed his expression, and put on his calm clinical composure.
I need to get out of here as soon as possible, Benjamin thought, his mind racing through an escape plan. I'll quickly administer this shot, then excuse myself to the bathroom and find a secluded place to wait for the others.
He reached out and snatched the small vial from the table. He rotated the bottle between his fingers, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the medical label.
Charles returned and reclaimed his seat. "Anything troubling you, Doctor?" he asked, a faint, challenging smirk dancing on his lips.
I've got him now, Charles thought. If he messes up, he's in a world of trouble.
Benjamin stood up and bowed his head in a show of formal respect. "Please pardon me for my insolence, but may I speak truthfully, Your Highness?"
"Sure," Charles replied dismissively.
"Based on the chemical compounds in this serum," Benjamin began, "I can see that this is used to ease and suppress an Alpha's pheromones. It's a formula specifically designed for use during a rut."
Charles nodded. "Yes, you're right. So?"
"Well, this serum is exceptionally potent," Benjamin continued, his voice taking on the steady, authoritative cadence of a doctor. "It targets the specific glands responsible for your pheromones. It releases chemicals that bind to the receptors signaling the release and then immobilizes them. It also constricts the ducts that release pheromones from the glands."
Benjamin's brows furrowed with genuine concern. "I've mostly seen this serum used for extreme emergencies. Long-term use can cause significant damage to your internal organs due to the buildup of toxins from unreleased pheromones. Eventually, it will end up damaging your pheromone glands and reproductive organs. If the glands are compromised, you will eventually lose the ability to control your pheromones."
He met Charles's purple eyes with a gaze stern. "Of course, this only happens with chronic use. So, I must ask, are you using this regularly, or is this an emergency, Your Highness? Because unless this is an emergency, I will not administer this."
From the looks of it, I know he's using it regularly, Benjamin thought. Right now, he doesn't show any of the physical symptoms of an impending rut. He isn't in urgent need of any pheromone inhibitors.
He peeked at the table, subtly counting the vials. There were four.
Charles was surprised. So he is a doctor. And it seems a competent one at that. How interesting.
The Prince's own doctors had offered vague warnings about the serum being strong, but they had never cared to explain in detail why.
Yet, the man who showed up as an attendant had given him an explanation with startling clarity.
Charles noticed the shift in Benjamin's demeanor. The timid, blushing man who had been hiding his face just minutes ago had vanished. In his place stood a man with who spoke with the weight of authority, his voice steady and his eyes sharp with confidence.
Charles remained quiet for a moment.
I should have kept my mouth shut, Benjamin thought. But first and foremost, I am a doctor. It is my responsibility to put my patient's well-being above all else. Well, if the Prince decides to kill me for this, it wouldn't be the worst way to go.
Standing there in the heavy silence, Benjamin was reminded of something important.
Wait, I can't die yet. I can't believe I almost forgot — I still have it. If it weren't for that, I could die now peacefully. Benjamin bit his lip. Now is the time that I should say I need to use the bathroom and excuse myself.
"Excuse —" Benjamin started, before he was interrupted.
Charles leaned back, his eyes fixed on Benjamin with a heavy, unreadable intensity. "If you won't administer this shot, what alternatives do I have?" he asked. "Also, please sit down."
Benjamin was relieved. He raised his head, but the moment his gaze met the Prince's striking eyes, he felt a jolt of self-consciousness and quickly looked away as he sat down.
"I believe you get your treatment from doctors at the Royal Medical Institute," Benjamin said, trying to steady his voice. "They're the best in the kingdom. You don't need advice from me. I'm sure your doctors already told you about the long-term effects of this medicine. As you're their patient, they are far more familiar with your needs. I believe you should speak to them, Your Highness."
"They did tell me about the medicine," Charles countered. "But I want to know what alternatives you suggest, Doctor."
Benjamin paused, realizing the Prince wasn't planning on letting this go. "I'm honored, Your Highness. Since you've been using this medication to treat your ruts, may I ask if your cycle is regular, Your Highness?"
The question was a standard medical inquiry, but in the quiet of the room, it felt intimate. Benjamin was now digging into the Prince's medical history, information that was closely guarded.
"It is," Charles replied. "In my youth, they were irregular and took a huge toll on my body. Medication eventually brought them under control. But over the years, my body has grown resistant to standard hormonal medication. That's why I've turned to this new serum."
"I understand," Benjamin nodded. "You've built a drug tolerance."
"May I ask how long you've been using this serum, and at what dosage?" Benjamin continued with his medical questioning.
"I've been using it for four months," Charles replied. "I take one injection just before the onset of my rut. If the symptoms are severe, I take a second."
Benjamin's brow furrowed. "Indeed, that's far too much." He paused before asking the next question. "Do you regularly release your pheromones? Do you have a partner to assist you during these cycles?"
To Benjamin's utter shock, a crimson heat climbed up the Prince's neck, settling into a deep blush across his cheeks.
Charles' own physicians had asked him about sexual partners and intimate habits a hundred times, and Charles had always answered with the cold, detached logic of a soldier. But for some reason, with Benjamin sitting across from him, the question felt different. It felt personal.
Benjamin stared, momentarily captivated. The intimidating aura of the high-ranking Alpha had flickered, revealing a vulnerability that seemed entirely at odds with the man who commanded thousands.
"I'm sorry if I was prying, Your Highness. I didn't mean to," Benjamin said softly, misinterpreting the Prince's silence as offense. "I only asked to better understand which alternatives would suit you. As a doctor who has been practicing for years, believe me, I've heard everything. There's no need for embarrassment. If you don't wish to answer, we can move on. Regardless—"
"No," Charles interrupted, the word coming out quicker and louder than he intended. "I've never had a partner."
The admission hung in the air, and Charles felt mortified. He wondered why he had just told the doctor that he'd never had a partner.
As the Commander of the First Guards, Charles was a man well-known for his restraint and a level of diplomacy that never wavered. He felt a wave of disbelief at his own lack of discretion.
Charles' lack of experience wasn't due to a lack of interest, but a lack of time. Between his official duties as a commander and an ambassador, and the necessity he felt to serve as a flawless role model for the people of Isadora, there was no room for the complications of an intimate life.
I am not completely inexperienced, Charles thought, a sharp prick of defensive pride stabbing at him.
The memory from years ago flashed through his mind. At a formal gala, a noble's daughter had indulged in far too many glasses of wine. In his attempt to be a gentleman, he escorted her to her carriage, only to be shocked when she grabbed his hands and shoved them onto her breasts, demanding that he feel them. He had maintained his composure and pulled away instantly before bidding her a curt goodnight and retreating.
"I'm not inexperienced," Charles said, his voice dropping into a stern, matter-of-fact tone. "I've touched a woman's breasts."
Benjamin looked at the Prince and then looked away quickly. To keep himself from laughing, he pinched his own thigh. The sharp sting of the pain helped him keep his composure.
The silver-tongued diplomat now seemed more like an innocent boy.
"Do you release your pheromones regularly, Your Highness?" Benjamin continued with his medical questioning and steered the conversation away from a topic that had clearly made the Prince uncomfortable.
"Just during my ruts." Charles responded.
Despite thinking that he had successfully cleared up any misunderstandings the doctor might have had, Charles still couldn't bring himself to look Benjamin in the eyes. He felt a gnawing sense of self-consciousness, a sensation that was foreign to him.
"That doesn't seem healthy," Benjamin said. "You must realize that an excess of unreleased pheromones in your body can become toxic as they break down into your bloodstream."
Benjamin brought one hand to his chin, his gaze drifting away toward a far corner of the room.
After a moment of silence, Benjamin turned back, his expression serious. "In cases like this, I recommend that you undergo a blood test. That is the only way your doctors can accurately determine the pheromone toxicity levels currently in your system."
"If your pheromone levels are low, you can switch to herbal medicines that facilitate the removal of toxins from your bloodstream naturally. Herbal medicines are generally easier on your body. However," he paused, glancing at the vial, "if your levels are already high and you are approaching a rut, you may have no choice but to inject this serum. But, I recommend you take it in conjunction with herbal medicines to flush the resulting toxins."
Benjamin leaned slightly forward, his voice softening. "With more time, a more suitable, long-term solution can be found. For now, this serum should do as a temporary measure."
He caught himself and quickly added, "But, as I said before, the doctors at the Institute would know best, Your Highness."
Distracted by his own thoughts, Charles didn't hear half of what Benjamin said. The medical jargon about toxicity and bloodstreams became a distant hum.
As Benjamin spoke, Charles found himself captivated. He watched the way Benjamin's lips moved as he spoke, the serious furrow of his brow, and the way his hands moved with such clinical grace.
The more he speaks, the more I want to know if the skin on his face is as soft as it looks, if his lips are as tender as they appear, Charles thought.
Charles, hit with the sudden realization of his thoughts, wanted to slap himself for even entertaining something so scandalous.
In all his years, Charles had never experienced this kind of attraction. He had stood in rooms filled with the most beautiful women and handsome men from all across the empire, and he had remained entirely unmoved. He had always been the observer, the diplomat, the untouchable commander.
"I'd like you to be my doctor," Charles spoke authoritatively and calmly despite cursing at himself internally, knowing that he was acting on a whim, which was something he had never done in his life.