Episode 98

The month had changed.

Everyone in the palace was now aware that the relationship between the Empress and the Empire’s fiercest dog had shifted. Consequently, Aiden’s face, which once reflected his stoic demeanor, now frequently flushed the same shade as his crimson eyes.

Meanwhile, deep in the underground prison, where no one knew of the winds stirring in the palace above, Lian was enduring another monotonous day.

His once decrepit cell was now modestly furnished, complete with a heater to fend off the growing chill of the season. This was thanks to the orders of the Captain of the Guard, who insisted the Empress should feel no discomfort during her regular visits.

Today was November 1st—the day Sione was scheduled to visit.

Her presence was always heralded by the echo of her determined footsteps.

The sound was a reminder of a hunting dog, teeth bared and ready to strike, never having completed its chase of the serpent.

When softer, lighter steps followed hers, Lian would prepare by lighting a lantern to welcome her into the gloom of his cell.

But today, the sounds were different.

The one to enter, after Aiden Tilender as always, was not Sione.

Lian, seated in a chair he had placed in front of the bars to await her, stood abruptly.

The visitor who entered the cell and immediately burst into tears at the sight of him was none other than Melbrid.

“Brother…”

Melbrid’s voice trembled. He had tried to maintain composure, to show a confident front, but it was impossible.

It had been a month since he last saw his brother. Lian’s face was as strikingly beautiful as ever, but now his cheeks and eyes were sunken with exhaustion.

“Why are you here?” Lian asked, his tone sharp.

“The Empress said that if you allowed it, I could visit you on the first of each month,” Melbrid replied, barely managing to keep his sobs under control.

Clicking his tongue, Lian looked down at his younger brother’s bowed head.

He had never expected to see Melbrid again, especially not in this place.

But he did not turn him away. Instead, Lian sat back in his chair, and Melbrid, still sobbing, took a seat on the sofa placed just outside the bars.

“Why are you crying?”

“I don’t know,” Melbrid replied.

“That’s not like you. What a foolish answer.”

“And you, Brother—why did you do something so foolish?”

For the first time, Melbrid’s tear-streaked face hardened, his question laced with accusation. Lian had no answer.

He thought of all the reasons: to see Sione’s tears, to act before she could strike, because he believed he could do it without being caught.

Yet the words that left his mouth were the same as his brother’s.

“I don’t know.”

“Is there something you don’t know, Brother?”

Despite his tears, Melbrid blinked in genuine surprise.

“I’ve come to realize there’s a lot I don’t know,” Lian said with a self-deprecating smile.

Though it was a pained, lonely expression, Melbrid recognized it as real—unlike the fabricated smiles his brother usually wore.

Lian’s smile faded as he asked, “I didn’t know you would cry like this. Are you angry at me?”

“No,” Melbrid replied.

“Then why are you crying? You’re better suited to smiling, Mel.”

“Is it true that you only have four years left to live, Brother?”

“You’re crying because I’m going to die?”

“Are you really going to die?”

Covering his face with his sleeve, Melbrid broke down into loud, unrestrained sobs.

He had wanted to believe that Lian would find a way out of this, that his brother would survive.

But the shadow of death hung so clearly over Lian now, casting a pall over his once vibrant features.

Lian clicked his tongue again as he watched his brother cry.

“Don’t cry.”

“How can I not cry when you’re going to die? You’re a fool, Brother. A complete idiot,” Melbrid choked out through his sobs.

Even while crying, Melbrid still managed to deliver his sharp words, echoing Sione’s own assessment of Lian.

At that, Lian let out a bitter laugh.

Seeing his brother’s tear-streaked face, he realized it was far worse than he had imagined.

The knowledge that Melbrid was crying for him made his stomach churn.

It felt unbearable.

If Melbrid’s tears were for the loss of his status or wealth, Lian could think of ways to restore them.

If it was because he couldn’t bear to see his brother in prison, Lian could plot an escape.

But knowing that Melbrid cried because Lian was dying—that was something Lian could not change.

Lian had been taking painkillers every four hours lately. It was faster than the records left by his predecessors suggested.

Either his body had already developed resistance to the medication, or his remaining time was far shorter than he had calculated.

Would he even last two more years?

For the first time in a life that had never brought him joy, he felt an urgent sense of dread.

“Mel, should I bind the Crown Princess to love you for the rest of her life?”

“Brother!”

Melbrid, despairing at the absurdity of his brother’s words even now, shouted in exasperation.

Lian might be a fool, but he could still read his brother’s intentions from his reaction.

If Melbrid chose to take the harder path instead of the easier one, there was little Lian could do about it.

Once he died, Melbrid would become the next Snake of the Empire, and the Luminal royal family would hardly assign menial tasks to a Snake of Belpator.

If Melbrid ascended as the Empire’s Snake, no one would dare mistreat the sibling left behind.

The problem was that Lothania had promised to break the Snake’s oath.

If Melbrid, burdened with the stain of being Lian Zernia’s brother, could no longer even claim the position of the Snake, there would be only one way for him to remain at the side of Lothania, the future emperor.

“How many noble families are there in Belpator?”

“Why are you asking this all of a sudden? Brother, please promise me you won’t use your power again.”

“I won’t, so answer me. How many noble families are there in Belpator?”

Under the weight of Lian’s unusually serious gaze, Melbrid reluctantly answered.

“Fifty-eight.”

“And how many are landed nobles?”

“Forty-three.”

“Of those, how many have retained both their land and family names since the founding of Belpator?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Twenty-four,” Lian replied. “As of last year, the total number of noble families, including those who received titles for merit, stands at sixty-four. There are twelve in the North, twenty-one in the West, seventeen in the East, and fourteen in the South. Mel, do you know why the North has the fewest noble families?”

Melbrid, sensing his brother was testing him, straightened his posture. This was the first time he had seen Lian so devoid of his usual mirth.

“Because the land is barren, and frequent invasions have forced many families to migrate southward,” Melbrid answered earnestly.

“Correct. That’s why the twelve families currently in the North have held their positions since the early days of the Empire. They’re also the ones least inclined to follow central authority. However, there’s one thing that ensures their compliance. Do you know what it is?”

“I don’t.”

“The Tilender duchy.”

“The Tilender duchy?”

Melbrid tilted his head, glancing at Aiden standing silently behind him.

Aiden, who had volunteered to oversee the visit to ensure Lian wouldn’t use his powers on Melbrid, remained composed, as if he hadn’t heard a word.

Melbrid turned his attention back to the iron bars, leaning forward as he asked, “Why is that?”

“Find the answer by the first of next month. That’s your homework,” Lian said with a playful smile.

Melbrid puffed out his cheeks in frustration but quickly brightened, his violet eyes sparkling as he began to ponder the puzzle his brother had given him.

Watching his brother immerse himself in thought, Lian allowed himself a faint chuckle.

An emperor’s position was always one of insatiable hunger for talent. It would be even more so for Lothania, who would ascend to the throne at such a young age.

With both the Snake and the Dog set to be freed, she would have an even greater need for capable individuals.

If Melbrid could grow into someone the emperor couldn’t afford to let go of, then Lothania would keep him close.

And the knowledge an emperor would covet most was all in Lian’s head.

From now on, he resolved to pass it all down to Melbrid.

It was the only thing Lian, imprisoned and awaiting death, could still do for his brother.

* * *

I looked up from my book.

The autumn sunlight, once high in the sky, had begun to slant, its warmth pleasantly gentle. A breeze stirred the leaves in the Empress’s garden, rustling softly as Aiden walked toward me.

He moved like a predator.

Even setting aside his long strides and the grace of his movements, Aiden’s very presence was inherently intimidating. He was always a figure of restrained power.

“Aiden.”

I put my book down and extended my hand toward him.

Reaching me in quick strides, Aiden dropped to one knee and gently pressed his lips to the back of my hand. His gaze, now lowered below mine as I sat on the garden bench, softened with a tender smile.

“I’ve returned.”

It always gave me a strange, inexplicable thrill to see the most dangerous beast in the Empire wear such a face, one he reserved only for me.

And this man—this fearsome, loyal protector—was my lover.

Part of me wanted to show off his innocent smile, as though saying to the world, Do you see how endearing he is? Another part of me wanted to keep it as my secret, a treasure only I could hold.

As I smiled back at him, his crimson eyes trembled slightly before he leaned closer to me.