* * *
He stood for a moment where Herel had been, then turned and left the bedroom.
If he didn’t push himself, he wouldn’t be able to send both of them to the Principality.
And if he failed, he wouldn’t reach death either.
“I’m going to die anyway. What’s a little more strain?”
He walked down the corridor, gripping the documents in one hand.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, stinging his eyes.
Pausing briefly, he then moved naturally into the shade.
The hallway felt unusually long as he walked to the conference room.
The moment he stepped inside, Sharp gazes bore into him.
Some were purely hostile, unwilling to miss even the smallest reaction.
Others, malicious, waited for him to falter.
Instead of sitting at the head of the table, he remained standing near the door—just as he had the first time he entered this place.
Those ignorant of the truth clung to Lejun, convinced he posed no harm.
Meanwhile, Lejun, who knew the truth, couldn’t even meet his gaze, staring stiffly at the table.
The absurdity of it all made him let out a quiet laugh.
“Shall we get to the agenda? Surely, we’re not going to sit here like this all day? I’d rather not.”
The murmuring grew louder at his shameless remark.
Cutting through the noise, Haen’s voice reached his ears.
“Today’s agenda consists of two items: the succession of Lejun Teian to the dukedom… and the punishment of interim Duke Vivisian Teian.”
At Haen’s firm words, the room erupted.
Some demanded he be thrown back into prison.
Others called for exile, house arrest—or, finally, execution.
At last, the moment he had long awaited had arrived.
Unable to suppress his laughter, he lowered his head.
An all-too-familiar gaze fell upon him.
Slowly, he lifted his head and met Haen’s eyes—Haen, who stood beside the restless Lejun.
The man scrutinized him, as if trying to read his every thought.
He held his gaze, his expression as calm as ever.
Then, Haen, his voice heavy, pronounced his fate.
“Vivisian Teian is stripped of his family name and exiled beyond the borders of his domain. From this moment forth, he shall never again bear the noble name of Teian, nor shall he set foot on his homeland until the day he dies. His name shall forever be marked with the word ‘criminal,’ and those who support him will face consequences as well.”
His ruin was declared in a voice that rang like an angel’s trumpet.
This time, perhaps, the gods would take pity on him and allow him to die.
He had drained his powers to the very last drop, defying the will of the divine to satisfy his own desires.
Surely, even a merciful god would not spare such a blasphemous apostle.
A breath of exhilaration slipped out.
Then, he bowed gracefully.
“A flawless judgment, Count De Winter.”
Blades of hatred cut down upon him from all sides, as if they would sever his neck if they could.
Feeling the suffocating weight of their contempt, he looked down at the marble floor.
The pristine surface blurred in his vision.
Fixing the image in his mind, he slowly closed his eyes.
This time, he could truly die.
✽ ✽ ✽
Now that everyone except Haen and Vivisian had left the conference room, Haen sat in his chair, slowly blinking.
Across the room, leaning against the door, stood a man who, despite having everything taken from him except his body, remained unnervingly calm.
With Lejun now officially the Duke, Vivisian was to be erased from the family registry and exiled from the duchy—his very existence wiped clean.
It was hard to believe that someone in his position could look so composed.
Not only was Vivisian banned from ever returning to the duchy, but he was also forbidden from speaking his own surname anywhere.
In the future, even in history books, he wouldn’t be remembered as a disgraced noble.
There would be no mention of anyone named “Vivisian” at all.
Being erased from the family registry and cast out of one’s birthright meant precisely that.
Vivisian wasn’t a fool.
Haen knew there was no way he didn’t understand what this all meant, and yet he still couldn’t comprehend him.
Vivisian had the black hair and cobalt-blue eyes that only direct descendants of House Teian possessed.
His appearance alone made it impossible not to recognize him.
Everyone in the Empire would know he was a criminal stripped of his name.
As long as he remained in the Empire, that fact would forever Siackle him.
‘How can he be this composed?’
Haen had never understood his friend—not since the moment he began committing those countless sins.
But today, he felt more lost than ever.
With his brows faintly furrowed, Haen lowered his gaze, watching his old friend walk in silence.
There was a time when he had wanted to stand beside him.
To walk the same path.
To understand everything about him.
But those days were long gone.
Haen opened his mouth quietly.
“Vivisian, when I got you out of prison, I made you a promise. That on the day everything ended, I’d grant you one wish. You played your part well. Now, tell me what you want.”
His voice was soft, almost affectionate.
Vivisian lifted his head and met Haen’s gaze.
In front of Shana Herel, he had shown a variety of emotions.
But with Haen, it was as if there was no point in showing any at all.
His expression remained unreadable—until slowly, ever so slowly, a smile began to form.
It was like the dark night sky gradually brightening with the rising sun.
Haen froze for a moment, realizing that ever since Vivisian had left prison, he had never once genuinely smiled at him.
Whether Vivisian noticed or not, he quickly erased the fleeting smile and whispered,
“I’m sending Sia to his family. Make sure it happens.”
“…Sia’s family?”
Haen knew that Vivisian cared about Sia, but he hadn’t expected that name to come up even now.
His brows furrowed slightly, confusion clear on his face.
But Vivisian didn’t bother explaining.
Instead, he pulled out a stack of documents and placed them in front of Haen.
Haen glanced at the papers, tilting his head.
“What’s this?”
“Information on Sia’s family.”
Haen took the documents and flipped through them.
His eyes widened by the time he reached the last page.
He scanned through them once more before rubbing his chin in mild disbelief.
“You were locked away in the ducal estate. There’s no way you could have gotten this information on your own… Someone helped you, didn’t they? These reports are too precise, too well-organized. Everything in here is credible.”
Frustration prickled at him.
He hated that things were slipping out of his control, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but admire the quality of the intel.
With a slightly unreadable expression, he looked back at Vivisian.
“Who helped you?”
“And if I told you?”
“I’d have to make them pay for aiding a criminal, of course. But instead of wasting their efforts on something unproductive like helping a criminal, I’d make sure they worked on something bigger.”
His tone was light, almost joking.
But he meant every word.
Vivisian chuckled softly before replying firmly,
“They’re not the type to be threatened.”
“Figures. If they were, they wouldn’t have helped a criminal like you in the first place.”
Haen smirked slightly, then tossed the documents onto the desk.
“This kid… The information looks legitimate, but you do realize that the Eris Empire and the Merien Principality aren’t exactly on friendly terms, right? If it gets out that the only heir of a runaway princess lived as a slave, things could get messy.”
“So what are you trying to say, Haen?”
“I’ll handle it after you leave the duchy. I just need to double-check the information first.”
“If I leave the duchy, the boy won’t be protected. He’ll be in danger. Send him now.”
Vivisian let out a small sigh, not in frustration but as if he had expected this resistance.
He only made one or two more attempts to persuade Haen before ultimately giving up.
There was no point in continuing the conversation—nothing would change.
He clenched his jaw briefly before exhaling.
“You promised to grant my wish. Was that a lie?”
“I will send him. What, don’t you trust me?”
Leaning against the window, Haen asked in a voice as gentle as if he were coaxing a child.
At that, Vivisian’s beautiful face twisted slightly in irritation.
It was a striking, almost ethereal kind of displeasure—like sunlight casting Sharp Shadows over a perfectly sculpted statue.
“And what about you? Do you trust me?”
The answer was obvious.
Vivisian turned and left without another word.
Haen watched him go, drumming his fingers lightly against the desk.
“What kind of plan do you have that you’re walking away this easily?”
Whatever it was, he’d find out soon enough.
The soft sound of his neatly trimmed nails tapping against the polished wooden desk echoed in the quiet room.
* * *
He is so disgusting, he is a hypocrite.