* * *
While Zeroth made his way to the Imperial Palace, Karl was also nursing a headache.
“…Has the duchess awakened?”
“Yes.”
At the curt reply from his subordinate, Karl pinched his forehead.
Why, of all times, now?
He couldn’t even lash out. His jaw tightened with frustration.
He had said to wait for the right opportunity.
But his capable men had pounced at the first chance and kidnapped the duchess.
After finishing his business at the palace and returning home, he received a report through the comms that the abduction had been successful—and was left speechless.
It was his own order, so it was only natural.
But of all days, it had to be when Julian Einsphener, the commander of the duke’s knights, arrived in the capital.
They should’ve prepared more.
A long tail is bound to be caught eventually.
“Did you leave any trace?”
“None.”
Even the doctor, Philip, had used someone else to do the drugging.
And he’d already been killed, so there were no loose ends.
“She’s a noble lady. Don’t treat her roughly.”
“Of course.”
The subordinate insisted he had done nothing, just locked her in a room.
She was soft and tender, being an Omega, and he’d wanted to take a bite—but it was the master’s property, so he didn’t dare.
“Where is she being held?”
“In the new estate we acquired. When would you like to visit?”
“I can’t leave her unattended forever. I’ll go soon.”
Karl sighed. What was done couldn’t be undone.
“I’ll make sure everything is to your satisfaction.”
The subordinate’s cackling tone oddly calmed him.
A suspicion was still just that—a suspicion.
No one would be able to connect these men to him so easily.
Especially not in Count Carben’s estate. The risk of exposure was minimal.
“What’s the duke’s next move?”
“He’s headed to the Imperial Palace.”
‘Was it because of what I said before?’
It seemed he had caught on to Karl funding the independence forces.
What a bother.
“Tell the rebels to start a riot in the plaza.”
“But won’t that make them suspect you even more?”
“I’ll move as I always do. It doesn’t matter. Even if they suspect me, they’ll find nothing.”
There’s no way Zeroth would know that he was the cleaner of the backstreets—the man who handled the emperor’s dirtiest work under the name of Marquis Rooster.
Not even the members of the organization knew they were acting under the emperor’s orders.
“Now get lost.”
“Yessir! But seriously, can’t I just rough him up a little?”
“Try it—if you want your head to roll.”
Clicking his tongue at the marquis’ words, he backed off, promising not to mess around, and slipped out through the window.
Tsk.
Even Zeroth Graham probably didn’t expect he’d make his move this quickly.
But neither did he—this wasn’t something he had planned for.
Zeroth must be moving based on suspicion alone, with nothing solid to prove it.
He’s probably going to ask the emperor for the right to deal with the resistance directly.
And that worked just fine.
It would be the perfect opportunity to wipe out the useless resistance altogether.
He never cared for Naruman’s independence—unless it was Hailey’s idea, he couldn’t care less.
He had funded the resistance purely on the emperor’s orders.
Being able to use them to torment Zeroth had made it a rather satisfying special assignment.
“It’s a ruined country anyway. Better for it to be buried and forgotten.”
Hailey, isn’t it better for those beautiful memories to remain untouched?
The beautiful homeland that Hailey had fought so hard to protect no longer existed.
He was only following the emperor’s command to erase those who stained the name of the country Hailey had once loved.
He didn’t know what kind of misunderstanding the duke had, but his men were already planted deep within the resistance, just waiting for the right moment to strike.
He had no interest in doing anything that would truly harm the Empire.
If the resistance became his dog, he would let it bite when needed.
And in the end, he’d kill them all with his own hands.
“I’ll have to stop them from bringing down the House of Viscount Nertian.”
Whatever Zeroth wanted, he’d interfere. He should prepare an escape route, just in case they had to run.
“Duke, I hope you get to experience defeat. Maybe then you’ll understand just how fucking miserable it is.”
He hoped the duke would come to know the same bitter frustration—the low, base urge to kill someone and the helplessness of being unable to do anything about it.
Who the hell is that bastard?
Sylvian glared at the door, his face a mess of tears.
He’d been crying every day since waking up—figured staying quiet would only make him more suspicious.
Is this what they call being a HuXX?
Some of the younger staff had once told him about slang they used among themselves.
Forcing himself to cry for so long was harder than expected. His head throbbed from all the weeping.
It had been three days since he was taken.
He assumed it was the doctor who had abducted him, but he hadn’t seen a single face since.
Meals arrived on time.
The place had a bathroom.
Every day, clean pajamas and clothes appeared there, as if he were in some twisted hotel.
He didn’t know what kind of lunatic was behind it, but with meals, fresh clothes, and towels on hand, it felt almost… comfortable.
“Hhhup.”
Sitting absentmindedly, he let out another sob for no reason.
He couldn’t believe how quickly he’d forgotten what comfort felt like.
He had become too immersed in the grim, worn-out life of being Sylvian.
Burying his face in the pillow, tears slid down his cheeks again.
Hhuuh… Mm.
“Ah… Uh.”
It seemed he’d cried himself to sleep, but something felt off.
His body wouldn’t respond, and even when he opened his eyes, everything remained dark.
Clink!
Startled, he tried to move, but his limbs were bound.
He couldn’t move properly.
“Aah!”
“Mr. Sylvian?”
Clatter!
A sudden voice made him flinch in terror.
“H-hah!”
“Please, Mr. Sylvian! Don’t move carelessly.”
“Help me, please…! P-please!”
He seemed to be on a bed, but with every movement, the sound of chains rattling echoed around him.
He tried to curl up, but his limbs were pulled so tightly he couldn’t bend them.
He hadn’t been restrained like this before—now a blindfold covered his eyes, and his wrists and ankles were tied.
“N-no, please, no…”
A soft, pained sound escaped him.
Every time his back brushed the blanket, bare skin made contact.
That’s when he realized—he was completely naked.
“Hic.”
Tears soaked the inside of the blindfold.
“A-are you… alright?”
It was Karl Rooster.
He turned toward the voice.
Karl’s voice was rushed, worried.
“Karl…?”
He carefully removed the blindfold.
Sylvian, now staring into Karl’s clearly visible face, called out to him softly.
No matter how he twisted his wrists or ankles, the shackles were pulled tight, holding him in place.
“Please… Please untie me.”
“Just a moment. I… I don’t know what’s going on either…”
Karl’s face was full of confusion. Sylvian’s eyes scanned him, trying to read the truth behind his words.
“Mm… Mmm!”
Clink, clink.
As Karl fumbled to remove the restraints from his wrists and neck, Sylvian’s body began to heat up.
“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know why…”
“Hhhng… sob…”
Clack.
* * *
