ITTRAETML 36

~Chapter 36~

He focused, trying to make out the face behind the curtain of hair.

“…Larvihan, is it.”

The first word spoken in years was that cursed name. Emperor Aktoberg’s stiff facial muscles twisted into a scowl.

“You look well.”

Larvihan sat casually on a protruding rock and pulled out a cigar. The fine smoke curled through the cave.

“Bad taste. No manners.”

It was, in fact, the brand Aktoberg used to like.

“I learned it from Your Majesty.”

For a man who created me like this, don’t talk to me about manners.

Larvihan’s smile was crooked.

“Did you come to resent me?”

“Why would I? Thanks to you, I was able to drag you down and chain you here. I only came with a question.”

“You expect me to answer?”

Larvihan dropped the cigar. It flared up, burned away to ash. He stepped forward, toward Aktoberg. His hand pressed against the chains sunk into the former emperor’s flesh. Aktoberg’s face twisted.

“I’m the one who bound you here. So I know exactly where to touch to make you scream.”

Clang.

A light push of the chain, and Aktoberg was writhing in unbearable agony.

“AAAAAHHH!!”

The cave rang with screams. Larvihan smirked and shook another chain. The clash of steel and stone sounded like music to him.

“S-stop, stoooop!”

“Do you feel like talking now, Your Majesty?”

Larvihan stepped back, calmly wiping his hand with a cloth.

“Damn it… I should have killed you back then.”

“Oh, but I think sparing you was a very good choice.”

“Just kill me.”

“And do you the favor?”

For years Aktoberg had lived in fear, waiting for Larvihan’s visits and torture. He had even tried to rip off his life-support devices, hoping to die. It hadn’t worked.

“You discovered the way to drain my power, didn’t you?”

“…!”

Life returned to Aktoberg’s eyes.

“So it worked! Arwen succeeded!”

If Arwen saw this, she would be thrilled. She had spent her life trying to win her father’s approval—even when she hired Larvihan to kill him.

“So who has it? Arwen? Those damned old mages? Or the crawling worms of the Papacy?”

“I ask the questions, not you, Your Majesty.”

The happier Aktoberg looked, the darker Larvihan’s mood became.

“If you know how to drain power, you must know how to return it.”

“So it’s true… Someone stole your power, didn’t they?”

Aktoberg, once an emperor, had sold his soul to demons. For the sake of absolute authority, he had devised a way to strip Larvihan of strength.

But instead of breaking him, the endless torment had only made Larvihan stronger. In the end, they had to take the power away.

And Arwen had done it. His daughter, whom he despised yet resembled—brilliant in her cruelty.

“She ate it, didn’t she? Arwen?”

It had to be. To secure the throne’s dominance, she must have devoured it.

“Enough chatter. Is there a way?”

“Ha ha ha ha ha!”

Aktoberg laughed like a madman.

“There is no way. None.”

Even if there were, he’d never tell. He laughed mockingly. Larvihan seized both chains and shook them hard.

“AAAHHHHH!”

His screams grew hoarse. In the end, with fading breath, Aktoberg muttered:

“Only by doing what no demon could ever do… could it be returned. But you can’t. Not you, Larvihan.”

Then he closed his eyes.

“Damn it!”

Larvihan tried forcing mana into his body. Aktoberg jolted like a fish pierced on a spear—but his eyes stayed rolled back. Foam bubbled at his lips. He wasn’t waking.

Should he kill him now? No. Better to let him live and watch everything he loved rot away. Killing him would be mercy, and Larvihan had none to give.

“Sweet dreams. Hopefully ones of the empire burning.”

He sneered and turned away.

Lovelace wore a pale dress.

“Since your hair is so beautiful, I chose a simple color. Instead—”

Judith spun her once before the mirror. The gown glittered with pearl powder, shining in shifting lights as it moved.

“This is a new design technique. I snatched this prototype just for you. And look—your size matches the model exactly!”

Lovelace opened her mouth to complain the chest was a little tight—but shut it again. In the mirror, Larvihan’s figure had appeared.

“You’re here already? I’m not done preparing.”

“I wanted to see you sooner.”

At that, Judith hurriedly shooed the other maids out of the room.

“All that’s left is the necklace, my lord.”

“I’ll do it.”

From the jewelry box, Larvihan lifted a teardrop diamond necklace, its facets dazzling.

He placed Lovelace in a chair before the mirror. His large hand brushed her bare skin as he draped the necklace. She flinched at the touch.

He leaned close, deliberately lowering himself to her level. His breath tickled the fine hairs of her neck as he fastened the clasp.

She gripped her dress tightly, unable to breathe properly. She didn’t need to see to know his eyes had wandered—from her neck, behind her ear, to her lips.

The memory of that searing kiss made her face burn.

“Do you have a fever? If you’re sick, we don’t have to go.”

His voice almost hoped for it.

“Of course we’re going.”

“You’re too beautiful, though.”

What kind of excuse was he trying to make?

Lovelace pushed him back and stood, but Larvihan caught her shoulders and turned her toward the mirror.

“Rey, your shoulders are so beautiful. I want them all to myself.”

Seeing the two of them together in the reflection was a strange experience. In the mirror, she could study every detail of him.

“D-don’t say things like that!”

“Am I wrong?”

“That… that intimacy, it didn’t work. You said you’d cancel the marriage, didn’t you?”

She tried to sound steady, hiding her unease.

“Cancel the marriage?”

He repeated it like the thought had never crossed his mind. Relief and confusion tangled inside her.

“You really thought one kiss would make me give up on you?”

His eyes darkened, his smile twisted.

Lovelace’s instincts screamed—she had stepped into danger.

His hand gripped her waist, pulling her close. He turned her face toward him with a firm hand under her chin.

“Rey, sometimes you speak as if you know everything about me. But you’re always wrong.”

He laughed smoothly, fingers trailing down her arm.

He spun her around, his touch feather-light at her wrist. Their eyes met in the air between them.

“Don’t you think we should try ten times? Two attempts aren’t enough to give up.”

His lips drew closer. Lovelace squeezed her eyes shut, frozen. He chuckled softly, then pressed a kiss only to her forehead.

“Relax. Like I said, I’m no beast that forces the unwilling. I’ll just have to try harder.”

“Try… harder at what?”

Thankfully, he stepped back. Thankfully, he hadn’t noticed the flicker of expectation in her heart. She pressed a hand to her chest to quiet its frantic beating.

“At winning your heart.”

Larvihan smiled mischievously, slipping lace gloves onto her hands.

“Come on. Let’s go to the banquet.”