The Sweet Alpha Crown Prince Loves Me So Much

The Heineken Imperial Palace was just as chaotic. As reports from Lindbergh poured in, the Empire’s leadership was busy formulating a counter-strategy.

Duke Hendrick, the Chancellor, maintained a calm and collected demeanor, like a swan gliding across a placid lake. However, the mountains of paperwork that accumulated on his desk each day betrayed his frantic efforts.

Everyone knew Parman’s ultimate target wasn’t Lindbergh, but Heineken.

Count Bourbon’s office, the hub of Heineken’s defense, had already seen a constant stream of visitors.

Emperor Glenn was currently in a private meeting with the High Priest.

It seemed absurd that the High Priest would be leisurely enjoying tea with the Emperor at a time like this, but for Glenn, it was a necessary respite.

“So, while we were busy with other matters, he was digging himself an ant nest.”

His tone, laced with irritation, revealed his frustration at having to deal with Parman on top of worrying about the Empress.

High Priest Daniel, setting down his teacup, offered Glenn a placating smile.

“Are you concerned, Your Majesty?”

As the Empire was sustained by the goddess’ blessings, the Emperor held the High Priest in high regard, consulting him on all matters, great and small.

The High Priest wasn’t subordinate to the Emperor. He held considerable power in his own right, but he respected the Emperor’s authority, acknowledging their shared responsibility in upholding the vast Empire.

The Temple and the Imperial family were intricately connected, their close cooperation essential for the nation’s stability.

“Not particularly.”

Glenn, irritated by Daniel’s serene, almost condescending smile, which always seemed to calm his nerves, clicked his tongue and turned away.

That infuriatingly handsome face.

The same face that had, however briefly, captivated the Empress. He’d been so jealous in his youth that he’d forbidden Daniel from entering the palace.

Of course, Daniel’s position granted him certain immunities, so he’d simply ignored the decree, kicking down the doors if necessary.

Even now, Glenn wanted to banish him from the palace.

The Empress’s ideal type remained ‘a beautiful man.’

“Then why so grumpy, Your Majesty?”

Only the High Priest had the audacity to call the Emperor ‘grumpy,’ especially to his face.

Glenn glared at him, hating his knowing smirk, his deliberately provocative tone.

“Because it’s tiresome. Frankly, I’d rather shove magic stones down that ant nest and blow it sky high.”

“Then do it.”

Glenn clenched his fists, then slowly unclenched them.

“That’s more unsettling than you telling me I shouldn’t.”

The High Priest chuckled at his petulant response.

He was truly unchanging. No wonder the goddess continued to favor him.

The Emperor believed in his own strength, in its purpose – to protect others.

The rise and fall of the Lindwyer Empire served as a stark reminder that selfish ambition and the unequal distribution of power led only to ruin.

It was a simple truth.

“It’s terrifying to think Nikita is closer to a goddess of destruction. Her teachings constantly restrain me. Why can’t she be straightforward? Why is she always a double-edged sword?”

Seeing his frustrated expression, a mirror of his younger self, Daniel offered the same response he’d given him years ago, when Glenn was just a young man. “Everything in nature has two sides, Your Majesty. You can’t blame the goddess.”

“I’m not blaming her. I’m simply… reaching my limit.”

The High Priest, looking into Emperor Glenn’s fiery gaze, understood his unspoken request.

Glenn Heineken’s inaction against Parman was partly his own decision, and partly due to the Temple’s influence.

After all, it was the High Priest who had taught him that violence without just cause dulled compassion and bred cruelty.

Differentiators were chosen individuals, blessed by the goddess.

Often described as the closest beings to gods, but that wasn’t always a positive trait.

The love between Nikita and a human, often romanticized, was far from the fairytale people imagined. This was a truth the Temple kept hidden.

Nikita, the goddess of honesty, had become suspicious and distrustful when she discovered her human lover wasn’t as truthful as she was.

One day, she’d shower him with love and divine power, the next, she’d imprison him, heaping accusations upon him.

That was when humans gained the ability to wield magic.

While commonly believed to be a blessing bestowed upon the descendants of gods and humans, it was closer to a fragment of the divine power Nikita had poured into her beloved.

The proof lay in the priests, the true descendants of the goddess, who wielded divine power, distinct from magic.

Their differences, the chasm between their beings, had made understanding impossible. Nikita had become twisted, broken.

Her love had suffocated her human lover, leading to his premature death.

As Nikita, consumed by guilt, was about to fade away, Randy had saved her.

〈It’s ridiculous to say Randy saved Nikita just because she resembled a former lover. Does that mean she’d fall in love with anyone who shared that face?〉

Glenn, a young emperor in his twenties, had scoffed while studying the scriptures.

〈It wasn’t the resemblance. It was because Randy was as mad as Nikita herself. Only she could save her.〉

Daniel, younger then, had gaped at the Crown Prince’s bluntness, then presented him with a different scripture, one kept strictly confidential within the Temple.

〈She didn’t save her, she dragged her back from the brink.〉

That was why Randy was revered as a ‘saint,’ not a goddess.

〈Nikita found stability in Randy, who was even more intense than herself. It’s like a rampaging madman being subdued by another, whip-wielding madman. Why do you think differentiation and imprinting exist? Randy grabbed the goddess by the throat and bit her! Claiming her, marking her as her own. A human, daring to claim a goddess.〉

Whenever Glenn recalled that story, he pictured Daniel, impassioned, as Randy’s avatar, charging towards the goddess on horseback, whip in hand.

Daniel had lectured him, pointing a finger accusingly.

〈That insane union is the origin of differentiation. That’s why you differentiators must always control yourselves, exercise restraint! The moment you lose control is the moment Randy, that madwoman, gets her way, and the world is destroyed!〉

They’d successfully elevated her to ‘saint,’ but they could never worship her as a goddess. Daniel, covering his eyes in anguish, had lamented Randy’s actions, and Emperor Glenn had silently agreed.

Emperor Glenn glanced at the High Priest.

Pale, almost translucent lashes fluttered against equally luminous eyes, then lifted, revealing his gaze.

The Daniel he knew, the one who’d grabbed countless dominant Alphas by the shoulders, shaking them and yelling, “You should be ashamed! That madwoman, Randy…!” was gone.

Before him stood a man who embodied the word ‘sacred,’ a true servant of the gods.

“Why are you staring, Your Majesty? If you’re about to insult my appearance again, I suggest you refrain.”

Daniel’s words reminded Glenn of his youthful jealousy, when he’d openly criticize Daniel’s dull eyes and erratic behavior. Daniel tightened his grip on his staff.

If Glenn uttered another insult, he’d spank the childish Emperor, regardless of his age.

“No, I’m simply… observing that you’ve become quite serene, considering your age. It’s remarkable.”

Though not quite a spanking, Daniel found his tone sufficiently irritating. He merely smiled enigmatically.

A sense of foreboding washed over Glenn. He straightened in his seat.

“How dare you speak to me with such disrespect! Are you wasting my time? You do recall the Imperial Law, the one that requires the Temple’s permission to wage war against a foreign nation?”

“Damn old man.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Daniel raised a questioning eyebrow as Glenn muttered under his breath. He rubbed his ear, feigning confusion.

“Nothing. Just expressing my gratitude to the goddess for granting me such a vibrant and… entertaining High Priest.”

Glenn chuckled, and Daniel mirrored his smile.

“So, I have your permission then, Teacher?”

“I told you, I haven’t been your teacher in years.”

“Nonsense. Once a teacher, always a teacher! My patience is wearing thin. Before I do something rash and bring shame upon the goddess, please grant me permission to invade Parman. Justly, and rightfully.”

This was Glenn’s sole purpose for this meeting.

Parman was stirring.

Wriggling beneath the surface, like the insects he’d envisioned.

He’d sent his children to Lindbergh as bait, dangling them before Parman’s hungry gaze.

Carl Lindbergh, un-imprinted, was still a tempting morsel for Kitchener, and with the added bonus of Heineken’s future ruler, there was no reason for Parman to hold back.

Which was easier? Infiltrating the well-defended Heineken and kidnapping Carl Lindbergh while assassinating Adrian? Or ambushing them both in the vulnerable Lindbergh Kingdom?

The latter, of course.

It was a strategy so ruthless that Carl Lindbergh, who admired Emperor Glenn’s noble character, would faint if he ever knew.

When the Empress and his advisors had expressed concern, Glenn had simply said, “Two birds, one stone. A double-edged sword.”

He genuinely hoped his children would learn and grow from this experience. But he also wanted to provoke Parman.

His position, where even crushing an insignificant insect carried heavy consequences, demanded such machinations.

The High Priest, with his strict adherence to principles, would never have sanctioned a Heineken-initiated war without provocation.

“What’s the justification?”

Daniel asked, and Glenn replied, “I have my suspicions. And I’m certain we’ll uncover irrefutable evidence once we begin our investigation. What’s the point of pruning branches when we can uproot the entire tree?”

He felt a thrill of anticipation, envisioning Kitchener’s capture, the eradication of everything that had been a thorn in his side.

“You wouldn’t… refuse me, would you?”

Glenn’s smug grin faltered as Daniel’s expression turned serious. Daniel chuckled, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

A small act of revenge.

“Just kidding. Go ahead. I believe the goddess approves. Let’s see what happens when blessings are twisted into curses. Sometimes, a good beating is the only cure for madness.”

Despite his aversion to senseless violence, Daniel was, after all, a child of the goddess.

Count Bourbon, summoned by Glenn, entered the room. Seeing the identical expressions of gleeful malice on the Emperor and High Priest’s faces, he knew the time had come.