“…You have no idea how I felt as I was dying.”

His unexpected words made my eyes widen in shock. Dying? What was he talking about? I hadn’t killed him—I had merely cast him out of the palace. True, I had tortured him, but always to the extent that he wouldn’t die. Whenever I thought he had lost too much blood, I would have the guards tend to him.

I was fully aware that I had done something unforgivable to him—something that could never be forgiven. Even if I didn’t feel guilt, I at least knew it was something no human should have done. But…

“I didn’t kill you.”

I was certain of that. I hadn’t killed him. When I realized his affection for me had faded and when he said he would kill me, that was it. I cast him out. There was no need to go as far as killing him.

Forgotten memories began to emerge, one by one. A small child lying on a cold floor. Fingernails and toenails pulled out. His back whipped until the skin peeled off. Branded. Lying there, covered in blood. I remembered him muttering that he was going to kill me before I turned my back on him and walked out of the cell. I remembered climbing the long stairs and giving the guard my instructions clearly.

“That child is no longer needed. Make sure he’s sent out of the palace before the end of the day.”

I remember the guard’s eyes, looking at me with a mixture of fear and disgust, as if he were looking at a monster in human form. Despite the look in his eyes, his attitude remained respectful.

“Understood, Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”

“Before that…”

I recall looking down at the dark stairwell. What had I been thinking then? I couldn’t remember anymore. But I know that I said:

“…Before that, send a priest to the child. Have him treated before sending him out.”

Yes, I definitely gave that order. Of course, since he was considered a criminal, the treatment would have only been enough to keep him from dying. But that should have been enough to keep him alive.

I didn’t kill him. Though I did something monstrous, I hadn’t taken his life.

I had given the order for a priest to treat him, and after that… After that, I didn’t know. I assumed the guard handled everything. I didn’t think there was any need to check on the child I had cast out. I thought it was okay to forget, so I chose not to think about it. And so, I forgot. It was clear that I didn’t truly care for him, and I had proven that… But then why had I ordered him to be treated before being cast out?

“I know. I know that you didn’t kill me, Your Highness,” Zetak said, breaking my train of thought just as I felt like I was on the verge of understanding something.

“You sent a priest for me. I heard you gave the order to have me treated before being sent away.”

“…”

“You have no idea how humiliated I was. If I had just died of my wounds, I wouldn’t hate you so much.”

“Zetak…”

“You killed me, Your Highness. You call it treatment? No. It wasn’t treatment – it was killing me. Just because someone is breathing doesn’t mean they are alive. Even if someone else killed my body, it was you who killed my spirit.”

His eyes, looking down at me, were dark, filled with twisted emotions. What was he thinking now? He said I had killed his spirit. Was that just a metaphor? Or did it mean that I had literally destroyed something within him? He remained silent, and his silence made it impossible for me to know what was going on inside him.

But that was enough. Whatever the case, the fact remained—he had indeed died. If he truly died five years ago, it explained why he hadn’t changed since then.

I reached out and traced his face with my hand—his forehead, cheeks, lips, jaw, and neck. Gradually, I moved downward until my hand rested on his chest. There was no heartbeat. I couldn’t feel the pulse that should have been there. He wasn’t yet a complete demon; there should have still been something human left in him. No matter how much a demon had a separate core, without something like a functioning heart…

‘…Fusion with a corpse.’

The thought slipped out before I could stop it. I saw Zetak’s eyes narrow slightly. I must have been right. After all, he had said it himself – he had died. When the demon began to merge with him, it must have been after he had already drawn his last breath. Zetak, his brain still intact, must have clung to the demon’s body and regained consciousness. But it was only his consciousness that had returned.

People called me a corpse, but it was Zetak who had truly become one. If my hypothesis was correct, he had died, and only afterward did the fusion with the demon begin. The body of a human who had already died couldn’t be revived. In the end, the current Zetak was made of a dead human body and the living body of a demon—a half-corpse. Now I understood why he hadn’t grown or changed—half of his body was a corpse.

There it was again – that strange feeling of my stomach turning. What was this feeling? It was as if I knew the answer, but I didn’t have time to think about it.

The red eyes that looked down at me held a strange light. Resentment. Hatred. And underneath it all, a hint of affection. But that affection was so small, so faint, that even if we spent the next ten years together, it would never outweigh the hatred he had for me. It was still too insignificant.

Perhaps I had taken all of this too lightly. Yes, after everything I had done, forgiveness was never going to come easily. I had assumed I could win him over by awakening his desires and seducing him—it was a naive thought.

I reached up and brushed his hair back. He frowned but didn’t pull away. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated his face, twisted and marked by the scales of a snake.

If I wanted him to forgive me, I had to stand on equal footing. Only then, in moments when old memories stirred, might he truly be able to forgive me.

“Tomorrow, let’s leave the academy for a while.”

“Where are we going?”

“Anywhere. Somewhere where we can be alone.”

“…”

“A place where we won’t be disturbed. For a start, you can burn my face and body as much as you like.”

I thought I saw his expression harden for a moment, though it was hard to be sure in the darkness. I traced my fingertips over his forehead, scarred and marred by burns. The cold, uneven surface sent another strange, unknown pain through my stomach, as if something were twisting inside me.

“Then, like I did to you, you can pull out all of my fingernails and toenails. After that, take up the whip as much as you want, until you feel satisfied. It seems the starting points for you and I are far too different. As for the slave brand… leaving evidence could be problematic if it’s investigated later. Let’s replace it with a heated iron instead.”

If I wanted him to let go of his hatred, I had to become just like him. Every time he looked at my broken body, his hatred would gradually fade. And eventually, all that would remain between us would be old memories. If it came to that, the future I had foreseen wouldn’t come to pass. I thought Zetak might appreciate this proposal—it would give him a chance to exact part of his revenge without having to wait long.

“…I,” he began.

The light from the window disappeared, perhaps covered by a cloud, and his face was completely obscured. But even in the darkness, his demon eyes glowed red. For some reason, I felt as if his hand, resting on my neck, had tightened slightly.

“I told you not to use your body as a bargaining chip,” he said, his voice strained.

His voice was much lower, as if he was holding back a great deal of anger. I raised my right hand and showed it to him. With my fingers trembling slightly, I touched his cheek.

“Do you see this hand?”

“…”

“Every time you see this hand, you feel guilt and, at the same time, a sense of satisfaction. Am I wrong?”

“…”

“When I offered you my left arm, you were angry, but deep down there must have been a part of you that felt satisfied. Isn’t that right?”

“…”

“Do as I say. If you do, then surely…”

One day you will be able to forgive me.

“This is an order. Tomorrow you’ll leave the Academy with me. I’ll choose the place…”

I didn’t get to finish. Zetak grabbed my hand—the one touching his cheek. For a moment, I thought he meant to break it, given the sudden surge of pain. But instead, he simply moved my hand away from his face.

“Shut up.”

“Just sleep,” he added, his voice mixed with the growl of a demon. He seemed unusually agitated. What had upset him this time? Not wanting to provoke him any further, I kept my mouth shut.

In response, Zetak pulled the blanket up and covered my face with it. I couldn’t tell if he was silently urging me to sleep or just trying to make it hard for me to breathe out of annoyance. Given how thick the blanket was, I soon found myself struggling to breathe. I grasped it with my fingers and tugged it down slightly to leave space for my nose. Since he didn’t say anything, it seemed he simply wanted me to sleep.

He turned away from me, lying on his side, as if he had no intention of continuing the conversation. With his back to me, I had no way of knowing what expression he wore.

“Do you dislike my proposal?”

“Are you deaf? I told you to shut up.”

“Now you’re openly telling me to shut up. Are you going to claim this is just my imagination too?”

“It’s not a claim; it is indeed your imagination. Do you really think I would say such a thing to Your Highness?”

“…”