“Can I punish them?”
Rant asked cautiously, eyes downcast. I lifted his chin, meeting his still-unsteady dark brown gaze.
“You’re the heir of this house. There’s nothing you can’t do here.”
I locked eyes with him, his trembling gaze steadying.
“So stand tall and hold your head high. Even if the emperor himself stood before you, you’d never need to cower. Understand?”
“Yes.”
I smiled warmly, brushing a strand of hair from his cheek. Rant grabbed my hand, rubbing his face against it.
“I hate people who speak ill of you.”
“So do I.”
“Can I chase them all out?”
His whiny question made me laugh. His sulky tone was adorably indignant.
I wanted to grant his wish, but not now. Dismissing those maids would ruin the effort of letting spies roam the mansion unchecked.
“Rant.”
“Yes?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Can you wait a little longer?”
His face crumpled, his furrowed brow a mirror of Father’s. I gently smoothed the wrinkles with my fingers.
“Trust me and wait just a bit, Rant.”
He nodded reluctantly.
At the training grounds, Sir Tilt awaited Rant with a fierce scowl for being late. I started to make excuses, but Rant stopped me with a shake of his head.
Despite his slumped shoulders, he accepted Sir Tilt’s punishment without a word, clenching his teeth as if whipping himself. I watched him sweat and circle the grounds before returning to my room.
I wanted to keep this from Rant, but it hadn’t worked out. He was the Eliant heir and couldn’t stay innocent forever. In the brutal noble society, he’d sometimes have to dirty his hands. I couldn’t shield him from that, but I wanted to delay it as long as possible.
I dismissed the maids following me and ordered no one to enter for a while. I needed time to think.
The rumors were spreading faster than expected, confusing people with their varied tales. Most gossiped out of curiosity, while some spread stories with purpose—including my own people.
This plan had two goals: to prevent public opinion from coalescing in one direction and to make it seem Evan and I were at odds, luring them to approach him.
No word from Evan yet suggested the enemy was cautious—or too busy to contact him.
Sitting on the sofa, I rubbed my throbbing temples and closed my eyes. The chronic headache, resistant to medicine, persisted.
“Busy, aren’t you?”
A voice that shouldn’t be here rang out. My eyes snapped open to see him standing before the curtained window. I leapt from the sofa.
“Sys!”
I rushed to him. He stood motionless until I neared.
“Why are you here?”
“Sounds like I’ve come somewhere I shouldn’t.”
“Of course! Do you realize the position you’re in?”
“And you!”
As I approached, his golden eyes, previously shadowed, blazed. They glared at me as if they’d swallowed fire.
“What have you done?!”
He grabbed my wrist, shouting. His touch burned, matching the heat in his eyes.
“If you’re here because of the rumors—”
“I don’t care about those damned rumors.”
He leaned in close, growling.
“I’d be thrilled if the rumor that the bastard you called your man was dead were true.”
His venomous words sparked my anger. Acting without consulting him was wrong, but this wasn’t deserving of such scorn.
“Why are you so angry?”
“You really don’t know?”
“No, I don’t. That’s why I’m asking.”
I raised my chin, glaring back at his blazing golden eyes without flinching.
“It’s my business. Why are you so mad that I’m handling it my way?”
“Your business?”
“Yes, my business.”
He fell silent. The sun was setting, red light streaming through the uncurtained window.
“You’re always like this—acting like you’re ready to run, indifferent to everything.”
He tightened his grip, pulling me closer.
“As if you need no one.”
“I’ve never been like that.”
“Then it’s just with me.”
He ground his teeth, red veins visible around his golden eyes.
“Was it my delusion that your heart had turned even slightly toward me?”
“Sys.”
“Rather!”
He roared, almost a scream.
“Why did you even call my name?”
His face twisted in agony. Even in the cave, wracked with pain, he hadn’t looked this broken.
“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be this tormented.”
His growl sounded like a wounded beast’s cry.
“Is breaking our engagement worth all this?”
The word “engagement” snapped me back. His outburst was about Father’s request to dissolve it.
“I’ll never let you go.”
Displeased that my gaze wandered, he grabbed my chin, forcing me to face him.
“No matter what, I won’t let you go, so don’t think of escaping, my Bii.”
His possessiveness stirred rebellion, but clearing the misunderstanding came first. I met his golden eyes and spoke.
“Break our engagement?”
“Isn’t that why you did this?”
“Am I mad? To break our engagement with this?”
The heat in his eyes faded instantly. He narrowed them, gauging my sincerity. I twisted my wrist in his grip.
“Let go first. It hurts.”
“Oh!”
He released me. My pale wrist bore red finger marks from his rough hold.
“This… I’m sorry.”
He fidgeted, looking at my wrist, then bowed his head in apology.
“I got too worked up. The marquis mentioned breaking… Ha, it looks bad. Shall I call a physician?”
He started to make excuses but gave up, shoulders slumping. I knew what he left unsaid—he’d rushed here, blinded by Father’s talk of breaking the engagement.
If it were known that the crown prince, supposedly bedridden, was walking around, his efforts would be for nothing. He’d risked that to come here.
“This isn’t the palace.”
He fell silent at my cold reply.
“I’m sorry.”
His face darkened. Seeing him after so long, he was painfully thin. His sharp jawline was sharper, his once-smooth skin rough. He’d clearly suffered.
His haggard state doused my anger. I couldn’t stay harsh with him, whimpering like an abandoned puppy, unable to look away from my wrist.
He stepped closer, misreading my silence. When I instinctively stepped back, his face crumpled again, as if wounded.
“You may not believe me, but I’d never hurt you.”
I knew that. He’d never harm me. His pained expression, worse than mine as he stared at my wrist, made that clear.
“Ha, these hands weren’t trained to hurt you…”
He muttered, staring at his calloused hands, visibly shaken. I took a step toward him.
He looked up, his face like that of a child abandoned by his mother.
“Bii, don’t leave me.”
He reached out, his eyes trembling pitifully.
“If you leave, I don’t know what I’d become.”
“Is that a threat?”
