I Became the Cure for the Cursed Prince - Chapter 112
“Leon, I don’t want to lie to you anymore,” Lucas said quietly.
“……”
“So please, don’t ever ask me to give up on this child.
If you give in to me just this once, I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life repaying you.”
“Ha…” Leon lowered his head.
If he stayed any longer, he knew he would end up crying in front of Lucas.
“You’re cruel,” Leon whispered, his voice breaking.
“How can you keep asking me to bear this kind of fear?”
“I’m sorry,” Lucas said softly.
“But the future hasn’t happened yet. And just like always, I’ll survive. I couldn’t do it alone—but now, I have you.”
“…You’re really awful,” Leon said, his voice wet with tears.
At last, Lucas smiled faintly and tugged Leon’s hand toward him.
Leon’s sharp jaw and lips trembled painfully.
Lucas gently ran his fingers over Leon’s lips.
“I know it’s selfish,” Lucas murmured.
“But I’d rather give everything I have to this moment than live my whole life in regret.
And after we get through this, our bond will be even stronger.”
Slowly, Lucas lowered his head, burying his face in Leon’s hair.
He breathed deeply, letting Leon’s scent sink into him.
He wished their baby could grow up surrounded by this same gentle scent—
that he would know from the beginning what a good man his father was.
Lucas cupped Leon’s face between both hands and kissed him fiercely.
Tears and saliva mixed on Leon’s lips, leaving a faint salty taste.
Their tongues intertwined slowly, tenderly.
A breeze slipped through the open window, making Leon’s golden hair flutter and tickle Lucas’ cheek.
When their lips finally parted, Lucas smiled at him.
After returning to the Theian Imperial Palace, Leon had to swear again and again—before both Asili and Lucas—that he would never harm the child.
Only then was he allowed to stay in the same room as Lucas.
As Leon helped Lucas lie down on the bed, he grumbled under his breath,
“It’s way too hard just to be near my mate.”
“…Lying down again? Isn’t it bad to stay in bed all the time?”
“What are you talking about? You have to be careful until things stabilize.
Until you pass three months, you’re not stepping a foot out of this bed—be prepared.”
Lucas wanted to protest that it seemed a bit excessive, but he held his tongue.
He understood Leon’s fear, and for now, he would let him do things his way.
As Lucas stretched out on the bed, exhaustion finally caught up with him.
The soft sound of sheets rustling surrounded him.
“Have sweet dreams,” Leon whispered.
“You and our baby.”
With Leon’s sweet voice as his lullaby, Lucas drifted into sleep. But it didn’t last long.
“……Excuse me, I have something to report.”
“Say it here,” Leon said, keeping his voice low.
“I’m not leaving Lucas’ side.”
It was Ermon speaking with Leon.
“Congratulations, Your Highness. Gifts from nobles are arriving steadily.
However…” Ermon hesitated.
“However?”
Ermon glanced uneasily toward the bed, then leaned in to whisper in Leon’s ear.
“……Due to concerns about the Crown Princess’ health, there’s been talk among the nobles about preparing a concubine early to secure the imperial succession.”
They said it delicately— “health concerns”—but they really meant Lucas’ status as a recessive omega.
Lying on his side, Lucas’ eyes flew open.
He had heard every word crystal clear, as if it had been whispered directly into his ear.
Was it just because the words were so shocking?
No—something felt different.
A strange sensation was spreading through his body.
His senses were sharper.
He could see the distant scenery outside the window with perfect clarity.
Even Leon’s scent felt stronger than before.
What is happening?
Meanwhile, Ermon continued, bowing his head.
“I know you would never agree to such a thing, Your Highness, but I had to report it.”
Leon exhaled sharply, his voice cold.
“Fools. After everything we’ve been through, they’re already trying to repeat the mistakes of the past.”
Ermon nervously rubbed his neck, stealing glances at Leon.
He had expected Leon to explode in fury immediately, but instead, Leon smiled— a chilling, twisted smile.
“You’re lucky your head’s still attached to your neck,” Leon said coldly.
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
Leon let out a bitter laugh.
“When something’s this ridiculous, you don’t even feel angry.”
He glanced over at the bed.
Lucas was still deeply asleep, completely motionless.
It was the time of day when sleep came easily, so it should be safe to step away for a while.
“It’s better if I handle this myself.
Ermon, summon the noble council. Right now.”
“Yes, Your Highness!” Ermon said and hurried out.
Leon quickly changed his clothes.
“How dare they,” he muttered, clenching his fists tightly.
He had already prepared for this kind of situation, but that didn’t make the nobles’ insolence any easier to forgive.
Left alone, Lucas slowly sat up in bed.
His body felt strangely refreshed, almost too light, as if he could leap up and run without effort.
Because of that odd energy, the seriousness of Leon leaving to confront the nobles over “the concubine matter” hadn’t really sunk in yet.
Lucas tested his hands—clenching and unclenching them—and paced around the room.
His body hadn’t changed, but strength was overflowing from somewhere deep inside him.
“…Is this normal?
Is this what pregnancy feels like?”
He didn’t remember hearing anything like this before.
It was odd, but not impossible to understand.
He was carrying a child conceived with a dominant alpha tiger.
Maybe his body was doing everything it could to adapt.
If the gods had truly blessed this child, then perhaps they had granted him the strength to endure it too.
The blood of Theron giving power… and Haros giving endurance…
Wait.
Lucas’ eyes widened suddenly.
The child he was carrying had inherited Theron’s blood and was growing inside Haros’ descendant’s body—
the two forces merging into something even stronger.
In other words, the recessive omega trait no longer had any bearing on him, on Leon, or on their child.
He would be able to carry and give birth safely.
There was no need for a concubine.
The nobles’ arguments were meaningless.
Overwhelmed by the realization, Lucas rushed out of the room.
He had to tell Leon immediately.
The attendants gasped and tried to stop him as he practically sprinted down the corridor, but Lucas heard none of it.
He was desperate—he had to reach Leon before the meeting began.
He couldn’t bear the thought of giving up Leon to anyone else.
Even if his body had been at risk, Lucas would still have chosen Leon.
He loved him that much.
Breathless, he finally reached Leon’s room and knocked.
Ermon, not Leon, answered.
“…Lord Lucas?”
“Where’s His Highness?” Lucas asked urgently.
Flustered, Ermon struggled to respond but quickly gathered himself.
“He’s at the council chamber, but…
Forgive me, but shouldn’t you be resting? It’s dangerous to be moving around like this—”
“Ermon, not now.”
Cutting him off, Lucas turned and hurried toward the council room.
Ermon’s voice calling after him—telling him not to run, that he would escort him—faded behind him.
Seeing Lucas sprinting, Ermon panicked and ran after him, but Lucas was simply too fast to catch.
Lucas reached the council chamber first.
He paused just outside the door, trying to catch his breath.
He wanted to barge in immediately, but as the Crown Princess, he still had to maintain at least a semblance of decorum.
He would wait and ask Ermon to deliver a message when he caught up.
Yet even now, with the doors closed, the voices inside carried clearly to him.
“Thank you for celebrating the Crown Princess’ pregnancy,” Leon said leisurely, his tone dripping with false courtesy.
“But while I’m grateful, I also heard some… strange words.”
As Leon let his voice trail off, he swept his gaze around the room.
The nobles, stiff with fear, bowed their heads even lower.
No one dared meet Leon’s eyes.
It was as if locking gazes with him might mean instant death.
Leon hadn’t expected an answer.
He continued calmly after a pause.
“How long has it been since His Majesty secured the throne? And already, some of you are plotting treason?”
“T-Treason?” one of the nobles stammered, his voice trembling.
Leon smiled thinly, his voice sharp and cutting.
“What else would you call it? The Emperor lives. I, the Crown Prince, live. And the Crown Princess is carrying the heir to the next generation. And yet you dare to suggest selecting a concubine?
If that’s not scheming against the imperial line, then what is it?”