I Became the Cure for the Cursed Prince - Chapter 65

“…Ah!”

Leon let out a small gasp, his cheeks flushing red.
Embarrassed to show Ermon how easily his face crumbled, he hurried back to his seat.

Hearing that Lucas was coming cleared the fog that had clouded his mind.
His nose tingled, and his eyes turned red.

How had he even survived without a promise that Lucas would return?
His heart raced wildly, just like when he was a young cub.

Lucas…

Outside, the snow was falling.
And now, through that snow, he would finally come.
Leon clenched his fists tightly, vowing to himself:

I will never let you go again.
I’m not that weak, helpless boy anymore.

Leon closed his eyes, recalling the five long years he had endured without Lucas, all for the sake of becoming stronger.
Quietly, Ermon left the room, closing the door behind him.

Today — the day he had finally secured Lucas’s promise — felt as long as a thousand years.

Leon didn’t even remember how he got here, but when he came to his senses, he had already arrived at the Theian Imperial Palace.
The palace attendants, clearly informed in advance, greeted the Northern delegation warmly.

“The coming-of-age ceremony is overseen by the Crown Prince’s Palace.
During the ceremony period, you will be our honored guests here.”

Following the attendants, the delegation unloaded their luggage from the carriages and were shown to their rooms.
Throughout it all, Lucas stood silently, tightly clutching Leon’s letter in his hand.

As the delegation leader, Lucas kept a serious expression, but the letter was already soaked with sweat — that’s how anxious he was.

He wanted to grab someone — anyone — and ask how Leon was.
But he didn’t need to.

The tense, worried faces of the palace staff made it obvious.
Their expressions were filled with concern and unease.
Of course they were — the star of the ceremony was sick.

But Lucas couldn’t just stand around and worry.
He had responsibilities as the delegation leader, and he fulfilled them meticulously, checking every detail.

Just as everything was wrapping up, a man approached him and bowed politely.

Sion, wary because of the curse, instinctively tensed, but Lucas gave a slight nod, allowing the man to speak.

The man had a gentle, composed air about him.

“You must be Lord Lucas Rion, the former Grand Duke.
His Highness has spoken of you often.”

Lucas returned the bow with a polite nod.

“My name is Ermon Stean.
I serve as His Highness’s secretary.”

After introducing himself, Ermon lifted his head.
There was something curious in the way he looked at Lucas — a quiet, searching gaze.
After a brief pause, Ermon spoke again, carefully:

“His Highness is waiting for you.
A room has been prepared. Please, come with me.”

Lucas hesitated for a moment.
Was this an official meeting?
If it was, of course he had to go.
But if it was an unofficial one… he wasn’t sure if he should.

Yet…

Leon was sick.
Lucas needed to see him with his own eyes — how sick he was, what exactly was wrong.
Was it like his own condition, worsening because of the absence of a stabilizer?

Lucas had already learned from his informants planted in the Theian Empire:
Leon hadn’t made any public appearances for days.

So whether the meeting was official or not — he had to go.

Without a word, Lucas followed Ermon with a heavy heart.

Everything was ready.

Leon had already turned eighteen a month ago, and this reception room had been carefully prepared, filled with everything Lucas loved.

The wallpaper and tiles were chosen in soft, warm colors — the kind Lucas favored — and small plants crowded the sunny windowsill, soaking up the light.

Leon had already received word that Lucas had arrived.
Now, all that remained was for the door to open.

“Hmm, hmm.”

Leon cleared his throat and quietly rehearsed the words he wanted to say when they met.
The closer the moment came, the more his throat tightened.
The tea in his cup had long since run dry.

As he refilled it, a familiar scent slipped through the crack of the door.
A sweet, rich vanilla fragrance.

So sweet it made his head spin — a scent that blurred all consciousness.

The door creaked open slowly.

Black hair, black eyes, pale skin, crimson lips — That upright, unwavering gaze looking directly at him.

It was as if a dream had come to life.
The same beautiful figure from his memories, standing there — looking only at him.

Leon’s heart ached.

He couldn’t say a word.
He just watched as Lucas silently walked toward him and stopped right before him.

Lucas extended his hand slowly and spoke:

“I am Lucas Rion, delegation leader of the Rion Duchy, here to greet His Highness the Crown Prince.”

Even his voice was just as Leon remembered — low, soft, and stirring every memory at once.
The memory of Lucas holding his injured self carefully, the way he used to hug him close as they slept, the way he smiled warmly in the greenhouse while holding his hand — and even the cold, heartless back that had once turned away from him.

All of it — everything he had ever wanted — was finally standing before him.
Leon couldn’t let go of the man who had stepped into his territory at last.

Leon rose slowly from his seat.
The mature, dignified image of a Crown Prince was gone.
All that remained was raw, burning possessiveness.

“You didn’t reply to a single one of my letters, Luca.”

Lucas kept his lips tightly sealed, his face unreadable.
But Leon saw it — the faint trembling of Lucas’s eyelashes above those deeply shadowed black eyes.

A silent battle played out between them:
One trying to hide his heart, and the other trying to draw it out.
The tension pulled tight over their bodies like a taut wire.

Leon moved closer, step by step.
Lucas flinched slightly — the subtle sign of tension made Leon almost blurt out, please, don’t pull away.
He bit back the words, forcing himself to stay calm.

Finally, when he was close enough to touch the hand Lucas had extended, the sweet, dizzying scent wrapped around him.

The closer he got, the deeper the thirst became.
Heat boiled up from deep within his gut.
And it wasn’t just from Lucas’s scent.

After five long years of longing, resentment, and aching desire, the man he craved was right there, within reach.
How could anyone remain sane in such a moment?

Leon knew how dangerous his own scent must have become.
He was an extreme alpha — the scent of a fully matured alpha could be devastating.

But Lucas simply stayed calm, holding out his hand as if all he wanted was a polite handshake.

“Your Highness,” Lucas said softly.

That was it — just that.

As if a simple handshake was all that existed between them.

Overwhelmed, Leon reached out, seized Lucas’s hand, and yanked him forward, pressing their bodies together.

Lucas, caught off guard, instinctively took a step back.
But Leon advanced, unstoppable.

Finally, when Lucas’s back hit the wall, Leon caged him in with both arms and whispered:

“That’s right, Luca. I’m your Highness.”

“……”

Leon’s eyes traced every inch of Lucas’s face.
It was as if time had frozen.
Five years had passed, and yet Lucas looked exactly as he did in Leon’s dreams —
his face so breathtakingly beautiful,
even his lips, which Leon longed to devour.

“Haa…”

The sound of Lucas’s long, shuddering breath sent a tremor through Leon’s body.
Lucas slowly lifted his head and met his gaze.
The black depths of his eyes threatened to pierce straight through Leon’s soul.

Leon steeled himself, refusing to blink or look away.

“Luca,” Leon said quietly, “I’m asking you — why didn’t you ever reply to my letters?”

Lucas didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he paused, his expression unreadable.

Growing impatient, Leon gripped Lucas’s shoulders tightly, locking their gazes together.
He felt the tremor in Lucas’s body — saw the slight wavering of his eyes.

This wasn’t what he had planned to do.

He hadn’t wanted to corner him like this, to force the words out.
But they spilled out anyway.

And even when pressed, Lucas answered calmly, coolly —
as if none of it truly touched him.

“Now that I’ve confirmed Your Highness’s health, that’s enough for me.
I came only to offer congratulations on your coming-of-age.
I will take my leave now.”

His voice was cold and formal, and Leon’s chest caved in with pain.

He couldn’t even stop Lucas when he pulled his hand away and turned his back to leave.
His lips trembled but no words came out.

“…It seems you have been well.
I pray for Your Highness’s continued good health.”

Lucas spoke the words calmly as he walked toward the door.

At that moment, something inside Leon snapped.

Heat surged to the top of his head.
Lucas spoke so indifferently, so coldly —
as if Leon had meant nothing to him all these years.

“‘You’ve been well,’ you say?”

Leon closed the distance in an instant, wrapping his arms tightly around Lucas’s waist from behind.

He whispered against Lucas’s back:

“How could I possibly have been well without you?”

Leon wanted Lucas to hurt, too.
He wanted him to waver, to be shaken.
He wanted those blank eyes to be filled with him — only him.

Looking down, he saw Lucas’s pale, slender nape.

Almost unconsciously, Leon lifted his hand and brushed his fingers lightly along it.

The touch was enough to reawaken the sleeping hunger inside him.

He wanted to kiss that pure white skin.
He wanted to leave a mark there — his mark.

“Wait… just a moment, Your Highness…”

Lucas struggled faintly in his arms.

Leon immediately sensed the shift — Lucas’s body and mind, both wavering.

Tightening his embrace, Leon smiled as their eyes met.

Yes, that was it.
This was the expression he had longed to see.
The one he had dreamed of when he thought of meeting Lucas again.

I’m happy to see you.
I missed you so much.

All of it ,  written plainly on Lucas’s trembling face.

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