[BL] Alpha, You've Got the Wrong Mate!-Chapter 114 — How it Work in Hianshu

For the past few days, the palace had been unusually quiet, preparing for the High Priests’ arrival. The emperor had put Soren in charge of overseeing the proceedings.

When word came that they had already arrived, he was in the main palace, finalizing the meals to be served to the guests.

"Your Imperial Highness, forgive me if I am overstepping, but... why are they coming?" The butler, who was to oversee the kitchen once Soren approved everything, asked hesitantly.

The Crown Prince inhaled. For a moment, he said nothing, simply marking checks and crosses on the paper as though he hadn’t heard the question at all.

The butler’s throat bobbed as he struggled to remain calm.

Would he be scolded for overstepping?

Despite his composed demeanor and angelic features, Soren carried the blood of the demon lord.

At last, Soren lifted the papers and glanced at the elderly man.

"Do you want to die?"

The butler flinched.

That is too direct... Is he asking me how I want to die?

"I—"

"I do not wish for my people to bleed more than they already have. His Imperial Majesty shares my opinion as well."

The butler blinked as he took the documents, trying to register. He was still alive.

"I shall greet them before they find another excuse to start a war," Soren sighed, turning on his heel and heading toward the audience hall, where he had ordered a servant to bring the priests upon their arrival.

"They shouldn’t think we have nothing better to do," he muttered. "Announcing their arrival on such short notice... Do they believe that just because we wield magic, we can bend time as well?" He scoffed.

Before long, he was already standing at the entrance of the hall. Once the guards announced him, the golden doors swung open.

Inside, a group of men and women dressed in white sat as though they had been sent by the Gods themselves.

Gods.

The taste in his mouth turned sour, though he forced a smile.

Among them, two familiar figures caught his eye—the man with long green hair and golden eyes, and the woman beside him with brown hair and amber eyes.

He almost laughed when old memories surfaced—the very ones he thought he had buried deep within his mind. They were the same people he had once faced on the battlefield, leading the army he had been ordered to fight.

Everyone rose to their feet as the Imperial Crown Prince entered, greeting him with practiced elegance.

Soren’s gaze fell on Zayden, who looked almost... clueless. Normally, his younger brother carried himself with unwavering composure—he did now as well, yet something about him felt off. Stray wisps of his pheromones lingered in the air, enough to make the priests shift uncomfortably.

Is he doing this on purpose to irritate them?

Soren wondered, though he could not ask aloud.

"Be seated, everyone," he said, forcing his lips into a broader smile.

The group complied—Zayden and Eiran included.

"You as well, Ren," the Crown Prince added pointedly, his eyes flicking to the man standing behind Zayden like a servant.

Even if he truly was one, as the person his nephew called father, Soren could not allow him to appear lesser within the Royal Palace. That would only fuel rumors surrounding his brother—rumors Soren would not permit to spread.

From the moment he met Eiran and Ren, he hadn’t doubted they were truly father and son. And that could just as easily be anyone else’s assumption.

Palace people didn’t think. They only needed to see, assume, gossip, and spread rumors. The worst cases often came when spies were involved. They couldn’t simply stop hiring new staff altogether, which forced them to act with greater caution.

Ren didn’t move, too hesitant, too afraid to sit before these people.

What if they recognized him? Like Loti earlier. Unlike that time, he no longer had his coat, covering him, hiding him. They were handed over to the servants once they entered the palace. Their boots had been changed to comfortable shoes that strangely fitted them.

"That is the least they should do to keep the place clean," Zayden told him. Maybe he noticed Ren’s hesitation to take off his boots.

Now, in case Ren was exposed, he could lie, of course—yet wasn’t truth something that couldn’t be sealed, no matter how hard you tried? He swallowed hard, darker thoughts spiraling through his mind.

"Ren?" Zayden’s voice pulled him back.

"Come sit here," Eiran said, shifting to the right and patting the space between himself and Zayden.

Feeling the gazes slowly drift his way, Ren hurriedly took the seat, his back slightly curved as he kept his eyes fixed on the floor.

Henry and Loti exchanged a glance. The man did resemble Raniel, but his behavior was nothing like his. Was it truly not him?

They needed to confirm. In private.

"Greetings, Your Imperial Highness. I am Henry Volair, High Priest XIX of the Temple of Hianshu," Henry began, bowing once more.

"Greetings, Your Imperial Highness. I am Loti Vassalius, High Priest XVII," she followed with her own bow.

The other priests continued presenting themselves, though Soren hardly paid attention. His gaze remained fixed on the first two.

"Why do you state numbers every time you present yourselves, Your Holiness?" Zayden asked, smiling.

Was it a code they used in Hianshu?

"Oh... that is because—" one of the priests began, blinking, clearly unprepared to explain.

"That is how it works in Hianshu," Henry cut him off, his golden eyes shifting toward the priest—sharp and threatening.

The priest who had nearly spoken the truth lowered his head, lips pressing into a thin line, although quivering. No one else said a word after Henry’s glare silenced the hall.

Soren leaned back slightly in his chair, fingers brushing the armrest.

So that’s how it is. He doesn’t like questions. Or maybe he didn’t like this one precisely.

Zayden’s smile didn’t falter, though the air around him grew heavier. His pheromones surged for a brief moment before he pulled them back under control.

Several of the younger priests shifted uneasily. Some twisted one hand against the other, trying to keep calm, while others answered Zayden back with their pheromones.

Eiran, oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Ren and whispered.