The wind blew lazily against the silks that donned Oriel's porcelain skin, the cloth only the finest material from all the gifts being offered at his feet by countless people that seem to worship him.

Oriel drapes himself against his chaise lounge, bored beyond compare. The scenery of his private garden within the temple can only entertain him for so long.

The temple, a golden prison that Oriel calls home. It is the only place he knows since being taken after he first showed signs of being an omega. The only one in their village, in fact; and as he realized later, the only one in their land.

Being pampered and cared for is certainly a privilege not many can taste, and Oriel is grateful he can want for nothing in the gilded walls of the temple, but being constantly paraded around as a divine figure is more than annoying despite the constant shower of gifts, especially when they start expecting things from him.

Attention becomes poison in excessive doses.

Then there are those occasional nightly visits from the temple's most powerful, and wealthy sponsors. Ones that made him feel like he's nothing more than another decorated courtesan.

"You are fortunate." Oriel suddenly spoke up, much to your surprise, his beta attendant. "You aren't cursed with your designation." He chuckles bitterly, almost solemnly, as he looks over the only person he seems to trust. You and all your naïve kindness.

"How I wish to be in your shoes. I think being a beta in this country would be a blessing than my current state. They intend to sell me away, you know, to some foreign king or other powerful aristocrat."

This is unheard of, causing quite an appalled shock from you that he can't help but laugh.

"I wish you could take me far away from here. I'm sure you'd be far better for a mate than any rich noble."