Before permission was even granted, Libehi Winterd stepped inside.

Passing Chardi, who was fidgeting anxiously near the door, he immediately crossed the room to where Larinne stood.

“I didn’t realize you had a guest.”

“Duke Winterd.”

Larinne noticed the dark crimson eyes fixed on her.

More precisely, they were locked onto the wrist being held by William.

“It seems the men of the Eastern Empire have rather poor manners when it comes to their hands.”

His tone was flat, yet an unmistakable anger lingered beneath it.

Closing the distance in an instant, Libehi seized William’s wrist and twisted it roughly.

Crack—

The sound of bone grinding echoed through the room, followed by a scream.

“Argh!”

He showed no mercy when controlling his strength.

Unable to endure the pain, William dropped Larinne’s wrist.

Gripping his twisted arm, he collapsed to the floor.

Libehi looked down at him coldly.

There was no misunderstanding.

Libehi Winterd was clearly angry.

Larinne gently rubbed her throbbing wrist as she studied the expression on the foreign man’s face.

“Are you alright?”

As if all his attention had been directed at Larinne from the very beginning, his gaze was unexpectedly gentle.

Once again, she felt a strange illusion.

“Yes, I’m alright, but…”

Larinne trailed off and glanced toward William.

His already hunched back looked even more bent today.

Yet Libehi Winterd acted as though William’s condition was of no interest to him at all.

“Your wound on the forehead had just begun to fade.”

He touched her wrist. He had gripped it so roughly that angry red marks appeared.

Her skin was so thin and pale that it seemed likely that bruises would form at any moment.

“You keep testing my patience. What should I do about that, hmm?”

Was the low murmur meant for himself, or was it a question?

Watching the man look at her with genuine concern created another strange illusion in her mind: The foolish illusion that the man she loved had somehow returned alive.

***

Libehi had almost revealed his true nature.

Having prepared carefully, he had arrived early that morning simply to thank her for the gift she had sent the previous night.

Yet to find a pest like this buzzing around her…

Just as when he had once caught the scent of s*men lingering in Larinne’s bedroom, a violent impulse surged from the depths of his being.

If it had been up to him, he would have killed the man there and then.

Whether he was the Emperor of the Eastern Empire or an old comrade —

— anything that caused Larinne pain,

— he wanted to wipe it from existence.

But he could not do that.

‘If I did, Larinne herself would be put in danger.’

All minority tribes within the Eastern Empire were bound by slave contracts. Leaving the Empire without the Emperor’s permission was punishable by death.

These contracts could only be lifted in two ways.

Either the original slave document had to be destroyed,

— or the person had to die.

Libehi did not want Larinne to suffer the unbearable agony he had once endured. That was why he endured everything.

Even pretending to be a wretched envoy.

He bowed and flattered the Emperor and the nobles of the Eastern Empire.

‘Because I don’t want even a single strand of her hair to be harmed.’

His pride being trampled meant nothing.

If it meant he could rescue her safely, he could crawl at the feet of filthy men like them as many times as necessary.

“You b*stard—who the h*ll are you?”

William, finally regaining his senses, struggled to his feet while clutching his broken arm.

‘Just the same as before.’

As he turned slowly, Libehi chewed over the disgusting memories buried deep in the dust of the past. At last, the two men’s gazes collided in midair.

“!”

The dull, shadowed pupils slowly widened.

“W-w-what… what is this? Y-you… h-how…?!”

With sunken, calm eyes, Libehi stared at William’s pale face.

He clearly remembered the night he had been pushed off the cliff.

He had never forgotten the glint in William’s eyes in the moonlight. And how could he ever forget the sight of William running away, pretending not to see the hand he had reached out to him?

‘Because of that, what suffering I endured in Duat… and who I lost.’

He could never forgive it.

“T-this makes no sense. You died. H-h-how are you alive?”

“I think it’s rather rude to tell a man standing perfectly alive before you that he’s dead.”

The calmer Libehi remained, the more out of control William became.

Libehi simply watched, remaining silent. He knew that guilt was the greatest punishment a human being could endure.

How heavy would the guilt of betraying a friend and companion who had fought alongside him on the battlefield be?

It would gnaw away at his conscience bit by bit until it ultimately led him to ruin.

“William. What’s wrong with you?”

Unable to ignore William’s worsening panic, Larinne stepped forward.

William’s expression brightened as if he had found a lifeline.

The madness in his face looked grotesque.

“No, Larinne. You know too, right? D*mn it! Libehi—he slipped during the monster hunt and fell off the cliff and died! You know that too!”

Slipped by himself?

The claim was laughable.

So for five years he had concealed the truth of his death with that lie.

Libehi lifted one corner of his mouth and stared at William.

‘After pushing me off the cliff with your own hands, you came up with quite a story.’

William’s hands trembled like aspen leaves.

Soon he began clutching at his hair.

“Please, calm down, William. I understand what you’re trying to say, but—”

“Do I look calm? Does His Majesty know about this? No—he must not know. If he finds out, I’m as good as dead!”

“Why are you suddenly talking about His Majesty?”

“D*mn it! I chose the best way to protect our Lemen people!”

“…What are you talking about?”

By then, William was no longer capable of holding a coherent conversation.

“Do you know how I handled that? To deal with him, I—I…!”

“William, you’re too agitated right now—”

“Get away! Don’t touch me!”

William finally drew the khopesh — the curved, sickle-like blade granted to Zhakan soldiers — and fell into a state of complete panic.

At that very moment, Libehi pulled Larinne into his arms.

The blade sliced through the air, passing mere millimetres from the tip of Larinne’s nose.

She had almost been cut.

“Are you alright?”

“….”

Startled, Larinne could only nod in response.

Anger surged within her.

The thought that she might have been hurt because of that foolish wretch made her blood boil.

Before he had time to think, he was already moving.

He pushed Larinne back to safety and strode towards William.

He moved without the slightest concern for the sharp khopesh aimed straight at him.

The blade’s tip touched near Libehi’s heart.

Like a viper facing its natural enemy, his voice was icier than ever and his eyes were filled with lethal intent.

“Do you intend to stab me?”

As Libehi took a step forward, William flinched and drew his arm back.

‘Go ahead and try.’

That was exactly what Libehi’s eyes seemed to say.

He stepped forward again.

The tip of the blade looked as though it might pierce his flesh at any moment.

“H-hiiik!”

Unable to bear the weight of his guilt, William convulsed and collapsed to the floor.

Libehi picked up the khopesh that had fallen and was now rolling pitifully across the ground.

How long had it been since he last held one?

The sensation brought back a memory of the first time he had volunteered to join the Zhakan.

To grant that child freedom, he had taken up a khopesh so heavy that it was difficult to wield with one hand alone and charged at the monsters.

He cut them down again and again.

Each time he was drenched in a monster’s blood, he knew that the curse upon his body grew stronger.

Yet he never stopped.

All he could think about was returning with great merit and setting Larinne free.

‘Back then… I was naïve. To believe the Emperor would keep his promise.’

His eyes flickered with murderous intent as he stared at the blade.

Should he cut him down?

It would not be difficult.

Even in his youth, his exceptional swordsmanship had been acknowledged during his time in the Zhakan.

Didn’t he once escape a dragon’s lair with only a sword?

Just as his grip on the weapon began to tighten—

“Duke Libehi Winterd.”

A voice he could not ignore stopped him in his tracks.

With a single swing of his sword, he could take the life of his long-despised enemy.

But he could not do that.

Not here.

Not in front of Larinne.

Libehi forced down his boiling anger and twisted his lips slightly.

Yes. He had carefully cultivated her sympathy all this time.

He could not ruin it now.

Erasing the murderous aura that had filled the room, he concealed his expression.

He looked almost innocent.

“It would be better to return this weapon later. It could be dangerous.”

For a venomous serpent whose humanity had long since disappeared, pretending to show concern was an abhorrent act.

It was a repugnant display. But he still wanted to win her favor, even if it meant playing such a role.

She possessed too many precious things. If he could win her heart completely, he would gladly rip out his own fangs and crawl like a dog for the rest of his life.

There was only one thing he feared in the world: the possibility of never being her first choice.

“I’ll call Chardi. He doesn’t look well, so we should probably send him to the physician.”

“Lady Larinne, I’ll take care of him! Please don’t worry!”

As if she had been listening from outside the door, Chardi burst into the room at the perfect moment.

With strength that seemed to come from nowhere, she dragged the dazed William out of the room.

Before long, only Libehi and Larinne remained.

“Once again, it’s just the two of us.”

He took Larinne’s hand and pulled her into his arms.

Looking down at her as she fell helplessly against him, he curved the corner of his eyes in a sly smile.

“Won’t you ask why I came to see you so early in the morning?”

Libehi deliberately tilted his head to the side.

A long golden earring dangling from his exposed neck caught the light and gleamed.

“…You’re wearing it.”

“Yes. And I prepared something in return.”

His unusually reddened pupils were fixed precisely on Larinne’s parted lips.