* * *
“You’re safe now. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“Huuh…”
He wanted to return home with him right away—but they still had to capture Karl Rooster.
“I’ll escort the young master.”
As Zeroth hesitated, Martius stepped forward.
He had been waiting nearby with the duke’s knights, and his jaw was clenched.
The marquis would arrive soon.
Zeroth couldn’t stay here.
Yuri, standing behind him, looked just as furious.
“What about the independence army?”
“They’ll arrive before the marquis does.”
Thanks to uncovering how to contact them, Yuri and Martius had moved fast.
All night, they had sent messages to key rebel officers, leaking the secret meeting time with the marquis.
They added a sweet promise: the marquis would fund them generously, and they could rise against the Empire from the shadows.
“Looks like quite a few will show.”
The rebels had responded, asking if it was true.
The pair exchanged glances and added: they’d support with a thousand gold if at least twenty showed up.
“They’ll come—for the money if nothing else.”
“Head straight to the duchy.”
“Don’t worry.”
Sylvian still hadn’t opened his eyes by the time the duke transferred him into Martius’s arms.
Martius gently turned his horse.
Yuri and a few knights followed.
The remaining knights cleaned up the blood and signs of battle.
They then led the carriage to the estate where the marquis would arrive.
The estate Karl had chosen was backed by a mountain—perfect for his men to flee easily.
Owned by an obscure merchant guild, the mansion had eerie dungeons beneath and beautiful rooms above.
“Where’s the room prepared for Sylvian?”
“This way!”
A knight disguised as a servant raised his hand.
It was the largest room.
Zeroth inspected it thoroughly.
“There are too many places to escape from.”
“It might be better to say the hostage resisted and was moved to a smaller room.”
“Without Sylvian here, there’s no way Karl would believe a servant’s word.”
Zeroth shook his head at Julian’s suggestion.
“I’ll be disguised anyway. The room size doesn’t matter.”
He frowned at the earring still hanging on the commander’s ear.
“Once this is over, lock yourself up in the territory for a few years.”
“You’re so heartless, Your Grace. Ignoring a knight’s loyalty—offering even his body for his lord.”
Julian fake-sobbed, and Zeroth flinched and moved further away.
Meanwhile, Karl had returned to the mansion and smirked at the report that Sylvian had been successfully kidnapped.
He regretted wasting time searching for the runaway consort.
Before he could escape again, he would make Sylvian completely his tonight.
Once that small body was in his arms, he would forget Zeroth entirely.
“I’ll visit tonight.”
— Yes, sir.
…Huh?
Something about the response sounded calmer than usual.
Before the marquis could speak further, the aide ended the call, saying preparations were complete.
The voice was stiff—suspiciously so—but then again, when the aide screwed up, he often—
…Damn it.
Karl suddenly thought the troublemaker might’ve touched Sylvian already.
Clicking his tongue, he sighed and called for his butler.
“Butler, I’ll be stepping out for a bit.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“I’ll return by morning.”
He had planned to wait until Sylvian’s fear peaked—but he rose from his seat just hours after returning.
“Have a safe trip.”
As the butler saw him off, Karl exited through a secret passage and climbed into a shabby carriage, the kind a servant might ride.
But watching him from afar… were unseen eyes.
“The Marquis has left the estate.”
The hastily scribbled note vanished.
“What are you doing?”
“My arm hurt, so I was just taking a break.”
She smiled at the fellow servant who nudged her with a question, grumbling that she wished she could stop wiping windows already, all while pretending not to see the carriage disappearing into the distance.
“The Marquis is on the move.”
“He’s acting faster than expected.”
Zeroth, seated in the largest room, stood up at his subordinate’s report.
He moved to the adjoining room.
“What about the independence fighters?”
“We’ve received word that they’ll arrive in time for dinner.”
“It’s going to be a fantastic reunion.”
He couldn’t help but wonder what Karl Rooster, who had so vehemently denied any association with the independence movement, would say when he saw them seated in the dining room.
“And the Imperial Knights?”
“They’re surrounding the estate, waiting on standby.”
“Good.”
At the duke’s nod, the knights exited the room, each heading to their designated positions.
“This long-standing grudge ends today.”
Left alone, Zeroth spoke bitterly.
“Are you satisfied now?”
It had already been twenty years.
Zeroth recalled Hailey, the person he had once believed was the brightest part of his life.
“If this was your plan all along… then congratulations. It’s a success.”
But Hailey could no longer answer.
Zeroth had severed his neck with his own hands.
He could still remember the horrifying sensation.
His first love.
A love so reckless, he had been willing to stake his life—and maybe even betray his country.
A foolish, youthful love.
If only Hailey hadn’t cried in front of him at the end, saying he was sorry and that he too had truly loved him in the end…
Then maybe Zeroth would never have understood those emotions.
‘Foolish Karl Rooster.’
Hailey Norman—no, properly, Hailey Naruman—was the illegitimate child of King Naruman.
And not just any child, but an extraordinary omega who had become embroiled in the royal succession dispute.
Zeroth had remained silent out of annoyance—or perhaps because it irritated him that Karl had loved the same person he had.
What a fool.
Zeroth knew that Karl had always looked at him with piercing eyes.
He probably thought Zeroth was trash who had heartlessly killed the person he loved.
Karl had no idea that from the start, Hailey had approached the two young alphas—destined to shape the empire’s future—with a plan.
‘Before I even realized it, I was caught up in it too.’
It couldn’t have all been a lie.
The way Hailey had looked at him while wrapped in his arms—those eyes, those expressions—those weren’t fake.
“Damn it.”
All Zeroth could do was curse.
He clenched his jaw.
If the Marquis’s daughter, Charlian, hadn’t come to him a few days ago, Karl would already be dead.
The cost of touching what was his was steep.
‘Please spare him. He didn’t do anything deserving of death.’
He groaned, remembering Charlian on her knees, bowing her head to the floor.
Even the emperor had begged—not to spare him punishment, but to at least reconsider killing him.
The damn fool’s problem was that he was too competent for his own good.
“They’re coming.”
As the carriage approached the estate, Zeroth stepped behind the curtain. At last, the time to end everything had arrived.
A request was just a request. The corner of Zeroth’s lips twisted at the thought of finally cutting Karl’s throat.
Karl’s carriage stopped in front of the estate.
Welcomed by a servant at the prepared entrance, Karl ascended the stairs without hesitation.
“And the duke?”
“He went out, said he was bored.”
At the subordinate’s report, Karl’s brow furrowed. Clearly, he’d made a mistake and run away.
“And the guest?”
“In the largest room.”
* * *
