The Sweet Alpha Crown Prince Loves Me So Much

To rebuild a nation, you need people and money. The temple took charge of gathering people.

In just two days, a considerable number of people volunteered. This was largely because Lindbergh and Heineken shared the same goddess, and many of the devout harbored goodwill towards Lindbergh.

The Imperial Palace became the hub for selecting capable individuals from the pool of volunteers. Leaving aside politics and national defense, which were being discussed primarily among the Imperial family and the nobility, talented individuals were chosen for each sector: construction, education, and culture. They reached a compromise to recruit additional personnel from Lindbergh’s citizenry and provide them with wages as needed.

The Emperor, in consultation with the nobility, decided to allocate one percent of the reserve budget to the Lindbergh Principality. The Balvenie Merchant Guild also pledged a significant investment, promising to receive returns through future manpower provision and toll exemptions, a gesture that surprised Leia Lindbergh.

Amidst the swift progress of the Lindbergh Principality Reconstruction Project, Carl Lindbergh, tasked with ‘Magical Formula Research,’ was enjoying the winter garden of the Imperial Palace with Elizabeth, taking a break from his overworked mind.

“Don’t wander too far.”

“

!”

Perhaps delighted to have some time alone with Carl, Elizabeth bounded around him playfully before darting off. Carl chuckled, unable to hide his amusement at her cheerful tail wags.

Ever since entering the world of the novel, he hadn’t experienced a moment of true peace, and it was unlikely to change. Yet, his current exhilaration felt different.

Things were going surprisingly well. These were feats he couldn’t have accomplished even half as effectively on his own.

Last night, a thought struck him before he drifted off to sleep. Perhaps it wasn’t fear of death but his own arrogance that made him shirk responsibility for crucial events in the protagonists’ lives, dreaming instead of becoming a baker.

The moment Carl Lindbergh shed his villainous role and connected with Adrian, a link between Belfry and Adrian vanished.

If Adrian hadn’t sought him out, Carl might have faced unforeseen troubles in an unexpected place, and Adrian might have lived his life as a solitary alpha.

Perhaps even Kitchener’s hiding and the subsequent war with Parman were ripples from that butterfly effect. 

Following Elizabeth, his shoes crunching on the scattered soil, Carl Lindbergh rubbed his arms, a shiver running down his spine.

From the start, his arrogance had been astounding. He barely knew the novel’s plot, yet, as an outsider, he’d naively assumed things would work out somehow.

Perspectives shape narratives. He hadn’t realized how irresponsible it was to focus solely on the protagonists’ romance, believing minor issues would resolve themselves.

Adrian, the chef, Marco – they all praised his efforts, but Carl Lindbergh often felt ashamed enough to hide under the covers.

“Life is a series of trial and error.”

Just as Emperor Glenn had said, twenty-one-year-old Carl Lindbergh and twenty-eight-year-old Jeon Woo-young were equally naive. There was still so much to learn.

This rang true, especially for his relationship with Adrian.

Adrian and Carl were lovers, fiancés, and soon to be husbands. However, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of something lacking in his own heart. He yearned to reciprocate Adrian’s affection tenfold, but he didn’t know how.

Was simply responding to his touch and passively receiving his love enough? It felt insufficient.

Whenever Adrian looked at him with eyes that screamed ‘I want to devour you,’ Carl feigned composure to mask his flustered heart. 

One thing was certain: Carl Lindbergh harbored feelings for Adrian Heineken that went beyond mere affection. A future without him was unimaginable.

But compared to Adrian’s unwavering devotion and love, his own heart seemed paltry.

Lost in thought, Carl Lindbergh didn’t even realize he’d crossed the garden and entered the small forest within the Imperial Palace grounds. He touched his cheeks, feeling them flush.

He wished someone could tell him,

What advice would Jeon Jae-young give him? Even though the kid was younger, she devoured novels about male love, marriage, even pregnancy – she had to be more knowledgeable in this area.

Would she say something like that? Jeon Jae-young had a certain coolness about her.

Carl missed everything, from her signature grumpy face to her sharp tone.

Carl Lindbergh rubbed his cold palms together, blowing hot air onto them.

“I miss you.”

“What are you doing here?”

A youthful voice pierced through Carl’s thoughts.

Looking up at the curt voice, he saw a girl with tawny skin and striking amber eyes gazing at him from a distance.

“Oh? The Prophet.”

Only then did Carl take in his surroundings. Amidst dense trees blocking even the midday sun, a small, neat house stood unexpectedly.

The