Hilda’s mouth watered.

But she was penniless.

She followed the crowd to a commercial street where a grand recruitment fair was underway. Every shop had a long queue.

Hilda gathered her courage and stood in one of the lines.

—— Prince Club ——

"Today is the day the Duke visits," Cecil was training his staff. He cracked a thin whip against the backside of a young man, making him yelp. "Look at you all, so listless!"

"I don't want to end up in the Duke's bed," the men whispered. "Last time, Eric was nearly disfigured."

"And Morpheus... I heard he’s still incontinent."

Just then, the doors of the club were pushed open. Every man looked over nervously, expecting the terrifying Duke.

Instead, a short, golden-haired youth walked in. He was filthy, wearing loose-fitting striped hospital scrubs. They suspected he had escaped from a psychiatric ward.

"...Excuse me, are you having a meeting?" Hilda stammered, pulling at the corner of her shirt. She kept her voice as low as possible, trying to sound like a boy. "I saw the recruitment notice at the door."

She was incredibly nervous. She had already been kicked out of three shops. They wouldn't even let her wash dishes; they looked at her as if she were a plague bearer. She suspected it was the clothes.

She had walked into this luxurious establishment with her last shred of hope, mostly because there was no queue here.

"Are you sure you're here to apply?" Cecil looked him up and down suspiciously. From his years of experience, this little blond couldn't be an adult; if he was, he had a genetic defect that made him look like a beanpole.

Were the guards at the gate blind? How could they let someone like this in? Weren't they afraid of infectious diseases?

But there were only five minutes left until the Duke's reservation. He didn't have the energy to hold a bizarre interview to find out if this kid was of age or insane.

"Yes, sir." Hilda nodded vigorously. Cecil reminded her of the kind old director of her orphanage. Her voice cracked as she rubbed her hands together in a plea. "Please, sir... I'll work hard... please..."

——— To be continued ———

0004 She Put on a Suit

Cecil checked his watch and then looked at the grimy Hilda. If the Duke saw such a mess in his club, he might lose interest entirely, and the business could fail.

"Take this little blond to get a bath. Put some decent clothes on him. Don't let him look like a mental patient," Cecil whispered harshly.

"Follow me," a staff member signaled to Hilda.

Overjoyed, she followed him barefoot.

——— The Duke’s Carriage ———

"My Lord, it seems your body is developing a resistance to the medication," William said, holding an empty syringe. "You really must mark an Omega as soon as possible."

Talon rubbed his temples in frustration.

It wasn't that he didn't want to; he simply couldn't find an Omega who sparked any interest or excitement in him.

They all felt... inadequate.

William sighed. "You should be more gentle. That’s the only way to find comfort. You can't treat this solely as a release for your rage."

"That’s enough, William," Talon snapped. "Don't speak for those playthings."

The coachman pulled the reins and shouted, "My Lord, we have arrived!"

Talon pulled back the curtain to disembark.

William caught his arm, reminding him one last time, "If you find a suitable Omega, you must mark them immediately. You cannot delay any longer, My Lord."

"I understand." Talon brushed William's hand away, his purple eyes flashing with displeasure. "William, you know I hate people who nag."

"...My apologies, My Lord."

William watched Talon’s retreating back with deep concern. If this continued and the Duke's pheromones weren't properly released, his condition would become even more volatile.

His heat cycles were becoming more frequent. Temporary release provided some physical relief, but it didn't solve the underlying problem.

Eventually, it could become life-threatening.

——— Staff Lounge ———

Hilda had just finished a hot bath. She felt brand new; for the first time, she realized what a luxury a bath truly was.

"Do you know how to wear a suit?" the staff member asked from outside the frosted glass door, remembering her ragged appearance.

"I do. I don't need help." Hilda peeked out from the door. "Please, just hand me the clothes."

The man gave her a strange look and passed the suit through the gap. "Hurry up and get to the lobby. An important guest is arriving."

With that, he hurried away.

An important guest? It must be a high-ranking official coming for dinner, Hilda thought. Having never been to a place like this, she naturally assumed these men in suits were just waiters.

Hilda put on the white suit jacket, which was printed with colorful patterns. She wondered why waiters wore such eccentric outfits, but she was more concerned with looking presentable.

She was only 5'4", but the suit was a size for someone nearly 5'9". Luckily, there was a belt, otherwise she would have looked like those middle-aged men with sagging bellies.

She saw a pair of leather shoes by the door. They were huge, likely a size 9 or 10. Hilda slid her small feet into them and waddled out of the dressing room.

She noticed a small table with some welcome cookies, a piece of candy, and a water dispenser.

Forgive me, Lord, but I am just so hungry.

—— Welcome Lobby ——

All the men were standing in two straight lines by the door, like Nutcracker soldiers ready for inspection.

"Sir... I'm ready." Hilda clutched her loose trousers, taking awkward steps toward Cecil.

Cecil's face froze. He could see the cookie crumbs at the corners of her mouth. He cursed his decision from minutes ago. Why hadn't he just thrown this kid out?

"Wipe your mouth and get in the corner behind the door, now!"

——— To be continued ———

0005 Duke Talon’s Rut

"O... okay, sir." Hilda stammered, awkwardly wiping her mouth. She hurriedly hitched up her loose trousers and, clattering in her oversized leather shoes, scrambled toward the corner.

The other host boys let out stifled, mocking snickers.

At that exact moment, the club's grand doors swung open. The blinding reflection from a brooch worn by the person entering made Hilda’s eyes sting. Distracted, her ill-fitting shoe caught on a slight bump in the long red carpet.

She tripped.

Instinctively, her hands flew out to grab the nearest thing for support.

A deathly silence fell over the lobby, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of a clock.

Hilda’s hands were clamped onto the white trouser leg of the man at the door. His shoes were also white, polished to such a brilliant sheen that she could see her own frozen, terrified face reflected in the leather.

Trembling, Hilda slowly lifted her head.

The man before her had short, silver hair and skin as pale as frost. He was exceptionally tall and broad—well over 190cm. He wore a black-and-gold fur coat over a patterned white suit that fit so perfectly it accentuated the powerful lines of his chest. The suit was intricately adorned with gold leaf, and a magnificent ruby brooch was pinned to his lapel.

He was looking down at her with deep, abyssal purple eyes. His gaze was icy, a blade of cold air that made it hard for her to breathe.

Unable to hold his gaze, she stammered out, "So... sorry..."

She saw his long, gloved fingers twitch. He wore several gemstone rings, each as large as a pigeon’s egg.

Hilda tucked her bare feet back, the oversized blazer sliding off one shoulder. She looked a mess, but more pressingly, she felt her belt slipping. She was terrified that if she stood up now, her pants would drop straight to the floor.

Dozens of men were watching her.

Cecil sucked in a sharp breath, clasping his hands and praying to God for the Duke to show some mercy. He didn't want the first corpse in his club to appear tonight.

Duke Talon was currently in his rut, making him far more volatile and sensitive than usual. He needed comfort, but because he had never marked an Omega of his own, he was forced to visit a club like this to endure the cycle.

Hilda tried to tighten her belt, but before she could touch it, the man in front of her moved.

He raised a long leg.

"Ugh!" Hilda let out a pained cry as she was kicked hard, sent flying into the corner. Her back hit the wall with a dull thud. Her messy golden hair fell over her face, appearing lifeless. Dizzy with pain, she struggled to prop herself up on her elbows, her body shaking uncontrollably as she curled into the smallest ball possible.

"You're in my way." A towering shadow fell over her. He stood against the light, his purple eyes fixed on the top of her head. His low voice sounded like it came from the depths of the underworld.