~Chapter 8~
What happened afterward speaks for itself.
Aisha was captured—along with Leoric and the children, including Helen.
Where to?
The Winters Ducal Palace.
“……”
The sitting room was thick with silence.
Aisha was alone, in the presence of Killian.
“Wah—Miss Aisha!”
“Please don’t hurt Miss Aisha!”
Meanwhile, the sounds of the children crying echoed from beyond the door. Oh, my babies.
“Th-They’re okay, right? Aisha will be fine! And whenever something like this happens, the head of the group steps in to take responsibility. All you all have to do is stay quiet and wait.”
Leoric—the worthless brat! Any hope I had for him dissolved completely.
“……”
No matter what chaos unfolded outside, Killian’s dark eyes remained fixed on Aisha.
Seeing Killian up close like this—or meeting him at all—was a first for her, aside from that encounter in the street.
In person, Killian was even more beautiful than described in the novel. His black hair shone like silk, his flawless bronze skin and sculpted features looked like they were made by hand.
And his eyes, the same dark color as his hair… were terrifying.
“Right… what Leoric Ashton said is correct.”
“Yes… what?”
“When something like this happens, the leader bears all the responsibility.”
“……”
“That rule applies in war and between street thugs—no exception.”
Justice.
Teorn, standing beside Killian, glanced around awkwardly.
“Now I’m not expecting you to lie, to try to weasel your way out with ‘I didn’t do it,’ are you, Aisha Ashton?”
Honestly, Aisha considered the thought… briefly.
“If you’re going to lie, fine. But you’d better be aware… where do you think the people who lied to me are now?”
“I—I don’t know.”
Killian’s finger pointed to the ground.
“They’re buried.”
“……”
“Killed by my hand.”
She was so far in over her head it was absurd. She regretted doing the Killian feature… but the magazine had already been launched.
“Theorn.”
When Killian said the name, Teorn rummaged in his vest and placed something on the table.
Sunday Exposé.
The special issues featuring Killian Winters—and the flyers the children had distributed today.
He laid them out on the table, spaced deliberately—as though to show off.
Aisha’s gaze fixated first on Killian Winters Special Issue 2—the best-selling issue so far.
Demon of the Battlefield, Killian Winters — Special Feature!
Does he perform for attention from women?
Is the Winters Ducal Knight Order actually his fan club receiving hush money?
Are the rumors about romance between his knight, Teorn, and him true?
This issue covers it all!
“Damn it.”
Aisha went pale; Teorn stifled a laugh behind his hand.
“Why did you do all this?” Killian demanded.
“Th-That…”
“And this mask of your face? Lip paint too?”
Killian muttered in disbelief.
“I-I’m not sure, but that kind of thing actually has real demand… lip paint, I mean. Um… can I be honest?”
Snap.
A blue vein pulsed on Killian’s forehead.
“Where did you get the badge that the Winters knights actually wore? Their uniform?”
“……”
“Were you planning to infiltrate them? To gather information?”
“N-No! Infiltrate?”
Aisha blurted out in panic.
“I mean… it was about the vibe! Wearing the same uniform, feeling connected. The badge too! It’s… part collector’s impulse, part belonging!”
Frankly, her explanation made no sense—from start to finish, how could someone feel belonging from other people’s possessions?
Unfortunately, Killian was born with zero patience for that kind of “otaku” nonsense.
“……”
Killian stared at her silently. Overwhelmed, Aisha shut her mouth and began frantically thinking how to get out of this.
But she didn’t have time to think—
Because Killian suddenly stood up and drew his sword.
“Ah—!”
“I asked you your true purpose, Aisha Ashton.”
With glowing eyes, Killian said:
“You’d better speak clearly and honestly—unless you want your neck to be next.”
How could she even think of a solution now? Aisha’s tightly shut eyelids twitched with anxiety.
“M—Money. It was for money.”
“Money?”
“I cut ties with the Ashton family and left home. Then I ran out of funds… I had no choice…”
Ha.
Killian let out a hollow laugh.
“It’s the truth? From what I’ve seen, you’ve put nothing but true information—even if sensationalized!”
Which made it even more suspicious.
Killian had read all of her special issues about him.
At first, he thought it was some crazy magazine. He’d heard obscure rumors—his past, family matters—but almost no one had that info.
Yet everything in Sunday Exposé—even if exaggerated—was based on truth. It stunned him. How could some minor noble lady know so much?
“A-Alright, I’ll never write about you again! I swear!”
Aisha, clueless as to what Killian intended, stammered desperately.
“If you want to punish me… just punish me and me only. The children didn’t do anything—they were just following orders… I’m truly, truly sorry. I have nothing to say.”
Who was Killian Winters? In the original story, he killed Aisha Ashton. Beseeching was the only way.
Aisha forced tears—forced herself to cry.
“Duke Killian…”
Her voice soft and desperate, she pleaded with teary eyes:
“Could you please… forgive me just this once?”
“……”
“If you forgive me, I’ll do anything you ask. Submit corrections, write whatever you want… I’ll do it. Please.”
Even now, she never uttered the words “shut down Sunday Exposé.”
“……”
Killian’s hand tightened around his sword hilt. Teorn looked uneasy, and Aisha’s tears fell like dew.
Should I beg more?
Just as she was about to speak—
“Duke Killian! Duke Killian!”
Suddenly, an urgent voice called from behind the closed door.
In that instant, everyone’s eyes turned in one direction.
