The Married Alpha Who Refuses to Be a Heartthrob (A/B/O · Alpha POV) - Chapter 7

“About that conversation we had in the carriage…” Kaes began, his voice low but curious. “You never told me why you can’t have children.”

In this world, the A/B/O ratio was fairly balanced—roughly 3:4:3, with Betas being the most common. Omegas were known for their fertility. In noble circles, a healthy Omega was often seen as a prized match—or worse, a wealthy man’s plaything.

Keith’s infertility wasn’t exactly a secret among the aristocracy—but Kaes hadn’t known him well enough before to ask.

Keith finally spoke, his voice slow and even.

“When I first differentiated into an Omega, my family arranged a marriage. My fiancé was a male Alpha, a close-combat type. We barely met.”

He paused, eyes distant with memory.

“Six years ago, I joined my aunt’s military expedition to a place called Rama Bay,” Keith recalled. “We were there to suppress a group of warlocks. I was scouting alone in a valley, searching for any stragglers.”

“After a long search, I found one. He resisted fiercely. I had no choice but to attack. His chant was faster than mine by a few seconds—he cast a binding spell and restrained me.”

“Then… something strange happened. It felt like I was hit by two spells. My gland—right here at the back of my neck—and my whole body started to ache faintly. But he only used a binding spell. I couldn’t understand it.”

“That’s when Aither arrived. He was standing not far behind me—and killed the Rama wizard instantly.”

Kaes’s brow lifted slightly and snorted. All that chanting, and still got interrupted. Gunner classes really are efficient.

Keith continued softly.

“When I got back, they found a foreign curse imprinted on my gland. The Pope examined it and said I’d been hexed—unable to bear children. The sigil was like nothing anyone had ever seen. No one could decipher it.”

“The only one who might’ve known—the Rama wizard—was already dead. The one Aether killed… he was the last of their kind.”

Kaes frowned. So that means it’s hopeless. If that wizard were still alive, maybe they could have lifted it.

“If I’d been Aither,” Kaes said quietly, “I would’ve killed him too.”

A straight-talking logic: combat classes don’t understand glyphs or sigils—if they saw an enemy, they shoot.

Keith sighed.

“I’ve never blamed Aither. People say if he had arrived a few seconds earlier, I wouldn’t be like this. But I don’t see the point. My fiancé ended the engagement after that—he said he didn’t want a mate who couldn’t bear children. It didn’t matter. We were never close.”

Kaes couldn’t help but wonder what the curse looked like—something that even the Pope couldn’t undo.

Many nobles pitied Keith for it; otherwise, the line of suitors would have been endless.

Kaes replayed the details in his mind. Everyone assumed the wizard had cast two spells—one for binding, one for infertility. But that combination didn’t make sense.

The logic felt off.

His instincts—those of a former detective in another life—pricked sharply. He reached out absentmindedly, brushing against Keith’s open book.

“That wizard,” Kaes asked, “you’re sure he only chanted one spell?”

Keith blinked in surprise. “Yes… why?” He caught Kaes’s wrist, eyes full of concern. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

Kaes met his gaze steadily. “I think there was a fourth person there. You were ambushed.”

Keith froze. “Ah… why do you think so?” It was the first time anyone had questioned that version of events. “Aither was there. Who else could it have been?”

Kaes spoke with quiet certainty.

“You said the wizard used one incantation, but your body reacted as if struck by two. You might’ve thought you imagined it—but it makes no sense for a dying enemy to care about your fertility. He would’ve killed you outright. That means someone else cast the second spell.”

“You didn’t see a fourth person—but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t one. All we know is: whoever it was, they could use sorcery.”

Keith’s breath hitched. He’d never considered that.

It was strange—why would an enemy waste time cursing his reproductive ability in the middle of a war? Kaes’s theory made chilling sense.

Keith released his wrist slowly, his voice distant. “It’s been years. Maybe it’s just fate.”

The battle had been in a distant colony long ago; even if they wanted to investigate, there’d be nothing left to find.

Kaes heard the quiet defeat in his tone but didn’t know how to comfort him.

They talked for a while longer, until half an hour passed.

Then Vansen came in. “Time’s up—you can take it off now.”

Keith leaned over and carefully lifted the white cloth from Kaes’s eye.

Kaes blinked against the candlelight. His left eye stung faintly, but—astonishingly—his vision had expanded. He covered his right eye and tested it. The left could see again, though a little blurry.

“How is it?” Keith asked, eyes full of anticipation. “The color looks normal again.”

“It might’ve worked,” Vansen said, holding his glowing grimoire up so the light fell across Kaes’s face.

The once-gray eye was now blue—clear, bright, and focused.

“I can see. It’s still a bit fuzzy, but… I can see, Bishop Vansen.” Kaes stood, took a few steps, a bit dizzy from sudden sight.

The Pope’s apprentice really is impressive, he thought.

But their joy didn’t last. Barely five minutes later, Kaes’s left eye clouded over again—returning to its dull gray.

Just like that, his brief miracle vanished.

“It seems it won’t hold,” Vansen murmured.

Kaes let out a long breath. “…Even a few minutes was good enough. Thank you both.”

Thousands of gold coins, for a glimpse of light—he couldn’t complain. Even modern medicine couldn’t have done better.

He said his goodbyes. Vansen was living with Keith for now, so the two of them walked him to the door.

At the threshold, Keith stopped him.

“Here—take this.” He handed over a small vial. “A bottle of simulated pheromone. Don’t lose hope. We’ll think of another way. Today was already great progress.”

Vansen waved from the doorway, the magic book hovering beside him like a lantern.

“Yes, Governor! Go rest for now—we’ll keep studying the formula.”

Kaes climbed into the carriage. The coachman informed him it was already eleven at night.

No wonder—the evening had passed in a blur.

When he returned to the Governor’s mansion, a servant greeted him at the door.

“Your Excellency, a delivery came from the royal palace this afternoon—several portraits and letters from Her Majesty. They’re in your office.”

Kaes sighed. He hadn’t replied to the Queen’s last letter; no doubt she was getting impatient.

In his office, the sight that met him made him pause.

An entire row of portraits lined the wall—handsome young men and elegant ladies, all in fine frames.

“What on earth is this?” he muttered.

The servant handed him a stack of papers. “These are from the Queen, sire. She says these are noble Omegas who admire you. If you find one pleasing, inform her.”

Kaes nearly laughed aloud. “This is… absurd. Like a matchmaking catalog.”

Normally, forced matchmaking would’ve irritated him—but tonight, perhaps because of the lingering warmth from Keith’s concern, he didn’t feel angry. Some portraits were stacked atop others, making it impossible to view them all at once.

He found himself wondering—is Keith among them?

If he was, Kaes thought, he might just go along with it.

“Let me see.” He took the pile from the servant.

Each page introduced a different noble Omega—mostly S-rank and above.

Below the profiles were their personal notes.

“Governor, I’ve admired you for so long. Let me be your consort. I’ll bear many children for you.”

“Governor, I often dream of strolling with you beneath moonlit blossoms… our pheromones must be a perfect match!”

“Governor, my heat cycles are unbearable each month—only you can save me! I’ve left my kiss mark on this letter as proof of devotion!”

“I don’t know if you like milk-scented Omegas, my lord, but my pheromone is sweet as cream… and my skin just as fair. Please have mercy on me.”

Kaes’s scalp tingled. They’re not even subtle about it. He skimmed quickly, reading only names before flipping to the next.

Dozens of letters, some with the Queen’s recommendations—no personal notes, but all expressing willingness to marry him.

So many Omegas lining up to wed him. By all rights, he should have felt flattered.

Instead, he felt strangely… hollow.

Because Keith wasn’t among them.

The servant stood by, nervous under the Governor’s expressionless gaze. He seemed uninterested, flipping through the pile too quickly. “If you don’t reply soon, sire…”

“Reply?” Kaes asked absently.

“Yes, my lord,” the servant said, dabbing at his forehead. “It’s late—perhaps you could respond tomorrow. But if you delay again, Her Majesty might come personally.”

Kaes sat at his desk, staring at the Queen’s latest letter—still the same tone, pressing him to choose a spouse.

He thought of her trying to pair Keith with Aither—and smiled faintly.

Then he picked up his pen.

To Her Majesty the Queen:
Thank you for your kind concern. I have already found an ideal partner.
He is currently in Lanqi.
His name is Keith—he is a mage of Bain-Perella.

When he finished, he hesitated for a moment. Should I really send this?

Then his resolve hardened.

Why not?

He’d faced battlefields fiercer than this. What was there to fear from a little royal outrage?

The truth was, he didn’t love Keith—not yet—but being with him simply felt right. Peaceful. Comfortable.

And Keith’s status and profession fit the image of a Governor’s spouse perfectly.

Just then, Long Shi entered, noticing the office light still on.

“Kaes, what are you writing?”

He came closer—and saw the letter. The ink was still wet, glimmering under the candlelight.

“What? Keith? The mage? You’re going to marry him?!” Long Shi’s brows shot up in shock.

He snatched the letter, eyes blazing. “How can you marry someone you don’t even love?!”

“How do you know I don’t?” Kaes replied calmly, leaning back in his chair.

“You like him? Impossible!” Long Shi glared, his voice rising. “You were obsessed with me once!”

“Love or not—it doesn’t matter,” Kaes said coldly, standing and pinching the letter lightly between two fingers. “I’ll marry him regardless. And I suggest you don’t tear up my letter to the Queen.”

Long Shi froze, hand trembling. Finally, he released the parchment.

He stormed out, his temper like a powder keg ready to ignite.

Kaes sighed.

He sealed the letter in an envelope. The servant melted red wax, poured it across the flap, and Kaes pressed his Lanqi eagle seal firmly into it.

“Send it tomorrow morning,” he said.