* * *
Nael had no idea how he managed to return to Kilian’s chambers.
He pushed open the firmly shut door and let out a long breath.
“Where have you been?”
A deep shadow stretched across the dimly lit room.
Kilian emerged from the darkness, stepping forward.
“…I just needed some air.”
“……”
“……”
“Nael, you’re a terrible liar.”
Kilian was now right in front of him, towering over him.
His crimson eyes burned like fire, but Nael only felt cold.
A large hand wrapped around his slender neck.
It’ll break.
Nael couldn’t look away.
He was paralyzed with fear, barely managing to breathe.
Kilian lowered his head, his tongue flicking against Nael’s ear.
“Haa—!”
Nael gasped sharply.
His entire body bristled.
Should he confess now?
But then Kilian might punish them.
What if he asked why Nael hadn’t told him sooner?
What if he decided to throw them into the sea?
Nael had no power to stop him.
His mind spiraled with the worst possibilities.
Crunch!
“Ah!”
A sharp pain shot through his ear.
His scalp tingled. It hurt—a lot.
Something warm trickled down his ear.
Kilian pulled away, his tongue stained red.
He… bit me.
Nael reached up to touch his ear.
Thankfully, the lobe was still intact.
“Hhic…!”
Tears streamed down his face.
He had held them back in front of Edward, but now they flowed freely.
Trapped in a position where he had no choice but to submit, crying was the only thing allowed.
The grip on his neck loosened.
As the pressure lifted, Nael collapsed to the floor.
He hadn’t realized that stepping out of the room, even for a moment, would provoke Kilian’s wrath this much.
“S-so cold…”
A cold metal clasped around his neck.
The chilling sensation, sharp enough to drain the warmth from his body in an instant, sent a shiver down his spine.
Clank.
The leash was secured.
As Killian stretched out his long legs and strode forward, the leash grew taut.
Nael felt like an animal—nothing more than a mute beast, waiting obediently for its master.
Pressing his palms and knees against the floor, he followed after him.
His gaze remained fixed on Killian as he fastened the leash to the bed frame.
His mind was blank, incapable of forming a single thought—except for the resignation that he was being locked away once more.
The leash was not long.
Even if he moved beyond the bed, he would only manage two, perhaps three steps at most.
That was all.
“Ren!”
Killian’s voice resounded through the ship.
Ren rushed in hastily, bowing at the waist as he awaited orders.
Killian was never one for long-winded commands.
“Undress him.”
“Master, allow me to do it myself.”
Killian did not respond, as if Nael’s opinion held no value whatsoever.
Ren, without hesitation, carried out the order.
The buttons, fastened securely, popped open with a light flick.
He briefly faltered at the sight of the bruises and bite marks blooming across the pale skin.
He had already seen them earlier while assisting with Nael’s bath, but the marks Killian had left behind were nothing short of obsessive.
Ren continued mechanically, void of emotion, executing the command given to him.
Nael swallowed hard.
Even if he were stripped naked and thrown into the center of a public square, he doubted he would feel more humiliated than he did now.
Not a scrap of undergarment was permitted—he was utterly bare.
“Speak, Nael.”
“…What?”
“None who have dared lie to me have ever survived.”
Thud—his insides felt as though they had plummeted to the floor.
“What did I say would happen if you disobeyed?”
“I-I’d be punished. Hic.”
“You should know by now that crying won’t change anything.”
“Master…”
Like a doll stripped of its clothes, Nael instinctively pressed his thighs together, trying to hide his exposed self.
He folded his hands neatly in front of him, as if that might shield him somehow.
Even though he had yet to be struck, his rear stung, and his entrance twitched in anticipation—his body remembered both pain and pleasure, forcing them upon him in equal measure.
Had he been found out?
Was this punishment for keeping quiet about Edward and John?
Did Killian already know?
He hung his head low, trying to mask the turmoil raging inside him.
His hair fell over his face, casting a shadow of concealment.
His clasped hands trembled, and his legs, bent beneath him, prickled uncomfortably from poor circulation.
“Nael,” Killian spoke with measured menace, “did you really think I wouldn’t know what happens within my own domain? Within my own ship? Were you plotting an escape with them? Whispering that if you rowed hard enough, you might just make it back?”
“Hic… Master, I… I didn’t mean to… I d-don’t know anything about lifeboats… Master, I can’t even read…”
“…”
“I was just… scared you’d kill them. P-please, Master… spare them.”
Edward stood before Killian, looking little more than a beggar.
Though John was not in great shape either, he still appeared more human in comparison.
Edward, his face flushed red from having drowned himself in Killian’s liquor, could barely stand, swaying unsteadily as John held him upright.
“I never expected rats to stow away on my ship.”
Killian idly swirled his glass, the amber liquid sloshing within.
“This is a drink of deep, rich flavor. Do you have any idea how many years it takes to fill a single glass?”
The drunken fool merely bobbed his head, while John bowed repeatedly, pleading for their lives.
“Do you truly think I intend to kill you?”
Come to think of it, Nael had said the same thing. A hollow laugh escaped him.
Just what kind of man did they take him for, that they all groveled for their lives at the first opportunity?
This was no battlefield, nor did he treat human lives like insects to be crushed underfoot.
However, sneaking aboard his ship and feeding lies to what was his—such crimes would not go unpunished.
Judging from the connection to the Baron, there was a high chance Edward was just as loathsome as his father.
“Edward, was it?”
“Y-yes?”
“Aiden, douse him in cold water and bring him back to his senses. The Baron raised his son no differently than the livestock he keeps.”
It was still a mystery to Killian how someone like Nael could have been born from such filth.
Edward, too, had blond hair and green eyes—but unlike Nael’s, his were neither clear nor bright.
They were dull.
With a dismissive flick of his fingers, Killian brushed the thought away like dust.
“Aiden, when we reach the North, spread word that Edward is here. Make sure Nael’s family remains unharmed.”
Though the Baron was a fool, he would not lash out at Nael’s sister merely out of anger—still, precautions were necessary.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Aiden supported the staggering Edward and led him away.
Drunkenness had utterly consumed the man.
What a pathetic creature—he could not even muster a reaction to insults hurled at his father.
Silence fell, thick and oppressive.
* * *
