I Became the Cure for the Cursed Prince - Chapter 45

Lucas took a sip of his drink before turning his gaze toward Leon.

Since earlier, Leon’s eyes had been slightly narrowed, and his lips were pursed in a pout, clearly sulking about something. But Lucas couldn’t quite figure out why.

Is it because everyone else is drinking, and he’s the only one with water?

Thinking this might be the reason, Lucas called for a servant to bring grape juice. Not long after, the servant returned with juice made from green grapes cultivated in the southern regions.

“Leon, have some juice.”

As soon as Lucas lifted the bottle, Leon instantly brightened, as if he had never been pouting in the first place, and eagerly held out his cup. Lucas poured himself more wine and clinked glasses with Leon’s.

Leon downed the juice in one go and glanced around. Many of the knights had already gotten drunk, treating alcohol like water. Even more concerningly, some of them were openly sneaking glances in their direction.

It felt as if all eyes were on Lucas.

Even though his curse prevented others from getting too close, whenever someone stumbled too near Lucas, Leon found himself tensing instinctively.

I can’t just wrap Lucas up in a cloak and hide him, and I can’t drag him away from the party either.

There was only one solution.

I’ll get Lucas drunk and take him out of here early.

Leon smiled innocently and reached for a bottle of liquor.

Lucas, worried that Leon might try to drink, furrowed his brows in disapproval. But before he could say anything, Leon spoke in the most mature tone he could muster.

“I was able to succeed in today’s hunt all thanks to you, Lucas. I’m grateful for your guidance in raising me so well. I’d like to offer you a drink as thanks.”

Leon poured the drink into Lucas’s glass, his movements steady and composed.

The way he spoke with such poise, the way etiquette had become second nature to him, and the way he showed not a hint of hesitation even in the face of terrifying monsters—Leon had grown into a truly admirable person.

I’m glad he didn’t get swallowed by my darkness.

Lucas silently mused as he accepted the drink and downed it in one go.

The bitterness of the alcohol felt oddly sweet tonight.

Seeing how much Leon had matured, knowing that in a short time, he would return to the imperial palace as a dignified prince—it made Lucas both happy and strangely melancholic.

It was a feeling much like the taste of the wine: bittersweet.

Each time Lucas emptied his glass, Leon silently refilled it.

Before long, Lucas had far exceeded his usual drinking limit.

Not that it mattered—Leon was the only one who could come close to him, and the knights were too preoccupied sharing tales of their patrol experiences.

The space around them felt almost separate from the rest of the banquet.

As the alcohol took effect, Lucas unconsciously reached out and ruffled Leon’s hair.

“Leon.”

“Yes, Lucas?”

Leon blinked, sensing that Lucas had something important to say. He perked his ears, waiting for the next words—

But none came.

Lucas simply stroked his hair with an affectionate gaze.

He would laugh, call Leon’s name again, drink, and then call his name once more. Each time Leon answered, Lucas would just smile.

Is he drunk?

Leon sniffed subtly, realizing that Lucas’s scent was somehow different from usual.

The familiar vanilla fragrance had taken on a strange twist—it was no longer purely sweet but carried an undertone of alcohol, making it feel oddly bitter.

Or perhaps the sweetness had become so overwhelming that it felt bitter instead.

Leon inhaled deeply, his entire body tensing.

If he was reacting this strongly, then what about the others?

This was definitely strange.

Lucas wasn’t an Omega.

And yet—

Lucas, completely unaware of Leon’s rising tension, continued to exchange glances with the knights, offering them soft, almost playful smiles.

His eyes curved in amusement, though the sharp tilt of his gaze remained.

To others, it might not be obvious, but Leon saw it clearly.

The knights who met Lucas’s gaze froze, their hands tightening around their glasses or even letting them slip entirely.

Leon turned his glare toward each one of them, locking eyes in turn.

His gaze burned so intensely that the knights flinched, quickly averting their eyes.

Then, as if trying to act casual, they began murmuring among themselves.

“Lord Leon’s acting like this because of the Grand Duke, isn’t he?”

“Who doesn’t know? It’s not the first time.”

Even though no one openly spoke of it, most of them had already noticed.

Leon’s feelings for Lucas were far beyond what was expected between an Alpha and his guardian.

It was unusual, sure.

But the northern knights, hardened by countless experiences, had seen all sorts of things. They simply accepted that some people had peculiar preferences and left it at that.

Meanwhile, Lucas, now more heavily intoxicated, muttered with a hazy expression,

“My Leon grew up so well… My precious Leon…”

His voice was huskier than usual, sending a jolt through Leon’s body.

If I’m reacting like this, then other Alphas must be too.

Leon tightened his grip around Lucas’s arm and spoke in a low voice.

“Lucas, you’re drunk.”

“No, I’m still fine. Haha.”

Too many smiles.

The sudden rise in body heat.

The overwhelming mix of vanilla and alcohol in his scent.

The subtle trembling of his fingers whenever he lifted his glass.

By all accounts, he was thoroughly intoxicated.

Leon turned slightly, and his gaze landed on Sion, who was watching them with a concerned expression.

It seemed Sion had reached the same conclusion.

“The bottle is already empty. I should go get more.”

Leon had been distracted, scanning the surroundings, and in that brief moment of inattention, Lucas had risen from his seat.

The rush of intoxication hit him all at once, a wave of lightheadedness sweeping through his body. He steadied himself against the table, taking a deep breath before attempting to step forward again.

But his balance wavered.

“Lucas—Lucas!”

Leon quickly grabbed his arm, his voice laced with alarm.

“I’m fine. I just got a little dizzy from sitting too long. Anyway, I still need another drink—”

“You’ve had more than enough. I’ll have a servant bring some to your room instead.”

Without waiting for an argument, Leon looped Lucas’s arm around his shoulder and guided him toward the exit.

His body, weakened from the alcohol, offered little resistance and allowed itself to be led away.

“Leaving already, Your Grace?”

“Indeed, the night is still young! Just a little longer—”

One of the knights, oblivious to the situation, casually added to the protest.

Then, he made the mistake of meeting Leon’s gaze.

The sharp glare that greeted him was enough to shut him up instantly. The air around Leon crackled with silent warning, his expression alone making it clear that any further words would not be tolerated.

Without another word, Leon tightened his grip and quickened his pace, leading Lucas out of the banquet hall.

Even after the two had disappeared, the celebration continued.

If anything, Leon’s behavior that night only fueled the knights’ drinking.

An Alpha, consumed by obsession, warding off other Alphas—such a spectacle was more than enough to keep the late-night conversations alive.

“Lucas, lie down here.”

Leon guided Lucas onto the bed, adjusting the pillow to properly support his head.

Lucas groaned softly, shifting restlessly as waves of heat coursed through his body.

Leon had taken him away just in time—if Lucas had stayed in the banquet hall any longer, he might have ended up making a fool of himself in front of the knights.

His whole body burned, feverish and uncomfortable. He took slow, measured breaths, trying to regain control, but the heat refused to subside.

“Lucas, are you okay?”

“A bit… warm. Open the window, would you…?”

His throat felt unbearably dry, his words hoarse and strained. Even speaking required effort.

Lucas squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push past the unfamiliar sensation.

He hadn’t drunk that much. Not enough to make him feel this way. His stomach churned, a strange discomfort welling up inside him, and yet—his senses had never felt sharper.

Then, something cool pressed against his cheek.

Lucas’s eyelids fluttered open.

Leon was holding a cup of cold water against his skin.

“You must be thirsty. Drink this first.”

Lucas stared at him for a moment before slowly sitting up and accepting the cup.

The cold liquid slid down his throat, clearing his blurred vision slightly.

But the deeper thirst remained, stubborn and unrelenting.

It wasn’t enough.

The tightness in his chest refused to ease, and the strange heat licking at his skin wouldn’t fade.

Still, he reasoned with himself.

It’s just the alcohol. I probably drank too much. I just need to sleep it off.

Silently, he handed the empty cup back to Leon and lay back down, closing his eyes.

“Leon… thank you.”

“Hm?”

“For growing up so well. I’m truly grateful… You are a blessing to me.”

Lucas’s voice was a soft murmur, but the weight behind his words made Leon freeze.

The warmth in his tone, the sincerity—it made Leon’s chest tighten painfully.

Lucas’s scent drifted toward him, now tinged with a faint woodsy note.

It was still vanilla, still intoxicatingly sweet—but deeper, heavier. Overwhelming.

Lucas had already fallen asleep.

Leon let out a slow breath, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

For a brief moment earlier, when their eyes met as Lucas handed back the cup, Leon had caught something—an unguarded flicker of heat in Lucas’s gaze.

Had it been his imagination?

No.

But still, he reminded himself not to hope.

He told himself over and over again not to expect anything.

And yet—whenever he caught the scent of Lucas, whenever he saw him lying there, so completely unaware, those thoughts crept back in.

Thoughts he shouldn’t have.

This is dangerous…

Leon exhaled sharply, running a hand over his flushed neck.

He turned his head away, trying to clear his mind—

And then, as if to mock him, Lucas’s scent hit him again, curling around him, sinking into his skin.

A mix of vanilla and something bitter.

Richer, stronger, deeper.

It was maddening.

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