Help! I'm in Another World and the Dragon Man Want Me To Get Pregnant!
Chapter 130: Side Story: Kaelion And Hassan’s Love Story (Part 4)

Chapter 130: Side Story: Kaelion And Hassan’s Love Story (Part 4)

The Crown Prince’s residence had become both bustling and strangely quiet.

Ever since he was officially named Crown Prince, the invitations for dinners, parties, and even matchmaking meetings had surged—honestly, it was very exhausting.

Everyone looked at him like he was some kind of prize.

And yet, within the estate, there was an almost eerie silence.

He remembered running down these very hallways and getting scolded for chasing little Vaelrik.

He remembered sitting in the visible courtyard, eating sandwiches with his siblings.

He’d once tried to help tend the garden—though really, he’d only gotten in the way.

The echoes of those memories still lingered in this place.

But now, Kaelion was the only one left.

Vaelrik came home from time to time, but he mostly spent half his time with Gavrius.

Seraphina never returned.

Morin lived in an entirely different country.

Even Nyx, whom he thought might remain, had moved to live in the royal castle.

He was alone here.

It wasn’t as though he’d been cut off from his family—his parents and siblings were only a few hours away if he wanted to visit.

Still, something about it made him feel lonely.

Well, he supposed he’d forget about it soon enough.

Once he got used to his current life, it would all fade away.

That’s what he told himself, yet something continued to gnaw at him.

For almost a month now, that uncomfortable feeling hadn’t left.

Being proactive wasn’t inherently a bad thing.

But when it went too far, it just looked desperate—greedy.

Today he’d been invited to a party.

It was a birthday celebration for the daughter of a merchant family he had close ties with.

These sorts of events were necessary if one wanted to maintain social and political connections.

So he went.

But honestly, it was just an excuse.

The girl clung to his side, constantly talking about herself, subtly pressing her body against his.

Internally, Kaelion was exasperated.

This behavior was little different from a courtesan.

Was his royal backing really that desirable?

The thought came unbidden: If I weren’t the Crown Prince, would any of these people even bother with him?

The answer, he was sure, was no.

That strange sense of emptiness followed him all the way home.

Hassan, who rode with him in the same carriage, seemed to notice.

He didn’t say anything, but the atmosphere shifted with unspoken tension.

"Hassan."

"Yes?"

"If I weren’t the Crown Prince... what would you do?"

"...What?"

Kaelion laughed at his own question, realizing how foolish it sounded.

If he hadn’t been Crown Prince, he never would have met Hassan.

He wouldn’t be acting as his personal guard, either.

But Hassan was serious—too serious, as always.

He gave it real thought.

"Forget it. It’s a pointless question."

"...Even if you weren’t the Crown Prince, I believe I would still hold deep affection for you."

It was that quietly spoken answer, slipping in so naturally, that surprised Kaelion the most.

Hassan’s face that was usually composed and sharp-featured, turned a faint shade of red.

As the words left his mouth, his blush deepened, and he turned his eyes away.

Kaelion realized it clearly in that moment—he wanted this man.

His heart wasn’t just whispering it—it was declaring it.

From then on, whenever he attended a dinner or party disguised as a matchmaking meeting, he didn’t bother hiding his displeasure.

He simply greeted people and ended the interaction.

The parents trying to promote their children must have panicked at his attitude—he received letters of apology days later, which he found utterly bothersome.

But he felt free.

Yes, he was the Crown Prince—but if he were to marry, he wanted it to be as Kaelion, not as the next king.

He wanted someone who loved him because who he is, not because his title.

That was enough for him.

On one of those nights, after several days of such encounters, Kaelion summoned Hassan to his room.

Of everyone, it was this man who had been most bewildered by Kaelion’s recent cold demeanor.

Hassan entered the room quietly, but tilted his head upon noticing the room was dimly lit.

"Your Highness?"

"Hassan. Come here."

Hassan approached Kaelion obediently as he sat on the edge of the bed, yet still tried to keep a respectful distance.

Kaelion beckoned him closer.

A few more steps, another beckon.

Once Hassan was within arm’s reach, Kaelion suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled hard.

Caught off guard, Hassan stumbled forward.

Kaelion supported him from below—and kissed him.

Those crimson eyes widened in surprise.

His body tensed, instinctively trying to pull away.

Kaelion allowed none of it.

He held him tighter, drawing him in, pressing deeper as he traced Hassan’s lips with his tongue, coaxing him to respond.

"Ah—!"

He felt it—the faint hitch in Hassan’s breath, the subtle shiver in his body.

Kaelion continued to tease his lips with slow, deliberate motions.

When he nudged slightly, Hassan opened his mouth just a little.

That was all he needed.

He slipped in, exploring every corner of his mouth, savoring the taste as soft breaths escaped from Hassan’s lips.

The man froze like a statue.

Didn’t he even know how to kiss?

The thought amused Kaelion just a little.

"Your Highness...?" Hassan whispered.

"Open your mouth."

"Mn—! Hnn..."

At that, Kaelion closed the distance again.

This time, he invaded from the start—no hesitation, no restraint.

As their tongues tangled, Hassan stiffened once more.

And yet... there was something sweet in the sound of his voice, something yielding in his response.

"Does it feel good?" Kaelion asked.

"...Yes," Hassan replied softly.

"Don’t you want me?"

"W-What?!"

Hassan with his face flushed, stared into his eyes with those burning red irises.

Kaelion stared back as he slowly began unbuttoning his own shirt.

"Your Highness!"

"I want you, Hassan. What about you?"

"I... I don’t know what to say..."

Kaelion could feel the heat radiating off Hassan’s skin, even through his confusion.

He took Hassan’s hand and placed it against his own chest.