was no point. Once his father made a decision, he never changed it.
“What senator?” Haydn said, forcing his voice to sound calm. “Have they already chosen?”
“Don’t worry, I have made it clear that you should have a say. You can’t choose someone specifically—unfortunately, the final choice will be the prime minister’s—but I insisted that you should at least choose your spouse’s sex and designation. You are the Crown Prince of Pelugia. My heir should have a say in the matter.”
Haydn had never felt more grateful for his father’s pride.
“Thank you, Father,” he said. “I don’t care about their sex, but as for their designation…” He hesitated. Since he was an alpha, most people would expect him to choose an omega. But.
Haydn had always felt strange around omegas. They were so small. Vulnerable. Needy. They expected him to take care of them. He didn’t like it. He didn’t find it attractive, no matter how good they smelled to his alpha senses when he was in rut. Having sex with omegas had always felt like something of a chore: vaguely unsatisfying and wrong. Something about it made his skin crawl. He couldn’t imagine being married to an omega.
“They must be a beta,” Haydn said.
The King raised his eyebrows. “A beta? Why not an omega? Omegas are easier to control, son. They’re very malleable as long as they get a hard knot in their holes.”
Haydn’s jaw tightened. He looked the King in the eyes. “I don’t want easy, Father. I like a challenge. I prefer betas, you must know that.”
Stefan hummed, looking skeptical, but nodded. “It’s probably for the best,” he said after a moment. “I don’t think there are any omegas in the Kadarian Senate. Even if there are, the fact that I can’t think of any proves that they’re not of any import. Omegas rarely are.”
Haydn kept his expression blank. His father’s disgusting prejudice against omegas was well documented, and he’d learned to ignore it, no matter how much he disagreed.
“Then it is settled,” Stefan said. “I will request a beta senator. You’re dismissed, Haydn.”
When Haydn got to his feet, his father’s gaze fell on his dirty uniform. “How was the inspection? I trust everything is in order?”
Haydn smiled, a cocky smile that hurt his cheeks a little. “Naturally, Father.”
Bowing to the King, he strode out of the room, exuding confidence he didn’t really feel.
He allowed himself to relax only once he was in the safety of his rooms.
“Dammit,” he murmured, running a hand over his face. Not that he had been hoping for a love match, but marrying a politician from the country they had been at war with forever hadn’t been his idea of a marriage.
At least they would be a beta.
That was something.
***
Senator Royce Cleghorn knocked on the door and entered without waiting for a response.
“Ah, you are just in time, my boy!” Prime Minister Taube said, smiling widely.
Royce suppressed a surge of irritation. He was thirty-six years old; hardly a boy.
“Your Excellency,” he said evenly.
“None of that, son! Call me Caius, as all my friends do. Take a seat.”
Royce sat down and looked at the prime minister expectantly, displaying patience he didn’t feel.
“You’re probably wondering why I’ve asked you to come,” Taube said.
Royce just nodded. The prime minister could talk all day if he was given the smallest encouragement. Sometimes Royce couldn’t help but think the man was a babbling fool, except a fool wouldn’t remain the head of the Kadarian government for two decades. Caius Taube had a sharp mind and equally sharp instincts, contrary to his friendly, harmless demeanor.
“How long have we known each other, my boy?”
“Over a decade, Your Excellency.”
Taube hummed thoughtfully. “Indeed. Time flies, doesn’t it? I suppose that’s life. It seems only yesterday you became the youngest senator in history.”
At times like this, Royce almost thought Taube suspected him and that was why he annoyed him on purpose, testing his patience and waiting for Royce to give himself away. Despite Taube’s seemingly warm attitude, there was no love lost between them. He knew Taube was wary of his growing influence and power in the Senate; he would have to be a fool not to be, especially considering the upcoming elections next year.
Royce breathed through his nose, carefully. The prime minister was an alpha, and his scent never failed to aggravate Royce a little, which was a normal enough reaction, but that day the man’s scent was stronger than usual. Taube was worried about something. Or excited. It was hard to tell. Royce’s