Episode 135

“Hilde… do you remember that wolf?”

“Oh, the one I gave you?”

“Yes.”

“It’s gone now.”

“…Ah.”

Yvonne forced a smile, trying to hide her unease. She smiled as if casually, but what she was really doing was checking—trying to see if his smile was real. The Emperor smiled often, but rarely with sincerity. Still, she could usually tell whether he was in a good mood or not.

But this time, she couldn’t.

Is Evony really Yurian’s person?

Or is she, without realizing it, still under Hildebrandt’s hypnosis and reporting everything back to him?

That thought made her chest tighten again with dread.

“Yvonne?”

“Oh… I just remembered it all of a sudden, being next to you like this.”

As Yvonne unconsciously clutched at the fabric over her chest, Hildebrandt gazed at her gently. But even that look was frightening—she couldn’t read him. What if he suddenly changed his mind and decided to kill her?

“I see.”

Meanwhile, Hildebrandt felt reassured. Yvonne was acting submissive again, like someone who had finally chosen to stay with him.

“Hilde.”

“Mm.”

He slid his chair closer, leaning toward her across the table. Though the table wasn’t small, his presence made it feel cramped. And for some reason, just looking at his shoulders made Yvonne feel more on edge than she ever had leaning against Yurian.

“Why is Sir Francis’s vision covered?”

“Why are you asking? You want him now?”

“No. I don’t want anyone but you, Hilde.”

“Then why ask?”

Yvonne flinched at his sharp tone. She had just been trying to shift the atmosphere. But now she was tired—tired of always having to figure out the “right answer” with him.

And that answer always changed. And in truth, he hated her.

Yvonne wasn’t foolish. She knew Hildebrandt only kept her close because she was useful. Even this sudden kindness was only because she served a purpose.

“He’s your knight. I figured it’s best I know about him.”

“Ah, I see.”

He leaned back in his chair, displeased.

“Though, thinking about it… there’s no one I really need to know but you, Hilde.”

“Right.”

But his mood didn’t improve. Yvonne, not knowing what else to say, just smiled weakly at him.

“What do you want to eat?”

“The same as you, Hilde.”

“That’s boring.”

“Ah, then… salmon steak sounds nice.”

“Okay.”

At his gesture, the servants began bustling about. Within ten minutes, the appetizers were served.

“Do you still want the wolf?”

“No. I liked it because it reminded me of you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He smiled again, seemingly pleased. This time, it wasn’t a fake smile—just a small, quiet curl of the lips.

“Fish, huh. Looks like your tastes changed after your little trip.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you pregnant?”

“…What?”

“They say your appetite changes when you’re expecting.”

“Ah…”

Yvonne quickly realized—he wasn’t accusing her about Marquess Rohan. He was testing her.

“How could I be?”

“Then what’s that mark on your neck?”

“It’s… a skin condition. It’s gotten worse.”

She hadn’t been careful after reuniting with Yurian. She’d been so overwhelmed, neither of them had paid attention. They’d been too busy devouring each other.

“I’m choosing to believe you, Yvonne.”

“…Yes.”

“Understand? I’m choosing to trust you.”

His words felt like a threat—and the subtle pressure of his power followed. Yvonne prayed this meal would end quickly. She could barely breathe.

“Ah.”

Hildebrandt suddenly beamed as though something amusing had come to mind, locking eyes with her.

“Do you know where Marquess Rohan is right now?”

“No. I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose you won’t mind hearing that bastard brought a courtesan into his estate.”

Courtesan: historically referring to high-class companions or mistresses to nobles or royalty.

“…No, I don’t mind.”

Yvonne felt like she would choke on even the appetizer. Seeing her reaction, Hildebrandt smiled with satisfaction as the main course arrived.

But the salmon steak she had requested was placed in front of him—not her.

She blinked, confused, glancing at her empty table space.

Hildebrandt picked up a fork and knife and began cutting the salmon steak placed before him. Then he offered a piece to her.

“Thank you.”

“No need.”

Soon after, a veal dish was placed in front of the Emperor.

“Shall I cut yours for you, Hilde?”

“No. I’d rather watch you eat.”

“Ah… okay.”

Yvonne, reading his mood, lifted the fork and ate the piece of salmon he’d cut for her. It had to be the finest quality fish—but it tasted like sand in her mouth.

“You know, Yvonne. If Francis sees you with his own eyes, he’ll kill you.”

“…What?”

“That’s the hypnosis I placed on him.”

Hildebrandt said this casually, watching her eat as if it were entertainment.

As though—if someone was going to die tomorrow—it wouldn’t be her.

It would be him.
And he watched her with a calm, eerie smile.

* * *

“How am I supposed to trust you?”

Yurian’s voice was sharp and cold as he stared down Marquess Rohan, who had followed him. The Marquess was far from looking dignified—though he was dressed neatly, his face was a mess of bruises in varying shades of blue and purple, evidence that he’d been beaten at different times.

It was clear he’d endured more than enough suffering since his capture.

“I’ll help restore your memories.”

“And what would you gain from that?”

Yurian wanted nothing more than to snap the man’s neck. Even without his memories, his body remembered—remembered nearly killing Yvonne because of this man—and that alone filled him with hate.

“I know you’re preparing for your second awakening.”

“…”

“Let me assist you.”

“You think I’d trust you?”

“I’ll make a pact.”

Marquess Rohan seemed obedient now. He looked like someone who had lost everything—but the fire in his eyes was still there.

“Put your life on the line. I don’t care about your powers.”

“…Understood.”

Yurian narrowed his eyes at him. He couldn’t read his expression—couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.

“Prove you’re not under hypnosis.”

“I am already under hypnosis. But coming here was my choice. And I won’t report this to His Majesty.”

Marquess Rohan looked like he was about to cry. His green eyes rimmed with red made them appear even more striking.

“I only pretended to cooperate with His Majesty—for revenge.”

“Revenge?”

“Revenge for taking Yvonne away from me.”

That made Yurian trust him even less. After all, he also loved Yvonne.

He already knew Marquess Rohan had once wanted to become her state secretary—wanted to stay close to her. Even if his memories of their encounters had been erased, his obsession was obvious. He had always been openly fixated on her, even before Yurian had entered the picture.

Yurian understood it, in a way. The woman who had pulled him from the water, even though he couldn’t swim, was Yvonne. It was natural to fall for someone who saved your life.

“I’m going to become her state secretary.”

“You shouldn’t say that aloud. What if I tell His Majesty?”

“I don’t care. I’d kill you before you get the chance.”

Yurian wasn’t bluffing. He truly considered killing the Marquess now. Removing dangerous elements early was the smart move.

“The amulet His Majesty gave me was cursed.”

And then—suddenly—Marquess Rohan released the power he had over Yurian. It was like a veil lifting. Yurian’s head cleared, and suddenly, it was as if he could see the full picture that had been hidden behind a curtain.

“That curse dulled my reason.”

“…”

“And in the end, I hurt Yvonne. Because of that… I know exactly what it is you’re protecting.”

Marquess Rohan’s trembling voice and tear-filled eyes seemed foreign. The once-cold tactician now looked ruined.

“At first, I hated you. I thought if it weren’t for you, Yvonne would’ve been mine.”

“…”

“But then I realized… it was His Majesty who gave me the amulet. I’m the one who ruined everything, but the root of it all… was him.”

“…”

“I envy you, Lord Leonhardt.”

Yurian saw the tears fall each time the Marquess exhaled.

“I envy you… and I hate you to the point of madness. But even so…”

“….”

“Even so, I still love Yvonne. That’s why I can’t kill you.”

Despite sobbing, the Marquess kept talking.

“Because it’s you who makes her happy.”

He laughed bitterly through his tears at the irony of it all.

Yurian, slowly, began to let go of the idea of killing him.

“Then swear a pact. With your life.”

“Yes… I will.”

Yurian pulled out a ring he always carried—crafted by a deal-maker-type ability user. It was different from an ordinary ability-binding pact; it imposed penalties. He’d kept it for emergencies. The ring was plain, silver, and oddly suited the Marquess.

Without hesitation, Rohan took it and slid it onto his finger.

“I swear loyalty to you until your second awakening. If I break this vow, I accept the penalty tied to the ring.”

It was the same kind of ring Yurian had used for subordinates he couldn’t fully trust.

The kind of contract that, if broken, would stop your heart on the spot.