tyrant chapter 18

“I want to live a quiet life in the countryside. Where no one knows me.”

The Duke sighed. He led her to his bedroom; this conversation was not meant for the ears of wandering servants. They sat facing each other across a small table.

“You could use Prince Karta’s influence.”

Under normal circumstances, that would be unthinkable, but with Karta so enamored, he would likely grant her any request.

“Let me rephrase. I want to leave without Karta knowing.”

“Why…?”

Delcart’s confusion made Fiogen laugh.

“Karta is the only person in the Empire who knows me. I don’t want him to get involved and draw the Emperor’s attention.”

Delcart realized how clever she was. Hidden in Karta’s shadow, she was safe, but alone, she was vulnerable.

“How can I assist you?”

Fiogen smiled sweetly. Her request was brazenly straightforward: enough gold to purchase a small house in a remote village, and enough to live on for a month.

“Nothing else? No guards, for instance?”

Fiogen shook her head.

“I can’t completely trust you, not when you’re so close to Karta.”

“Do you anticipate the prince will search for you?”

Delcart’s voice was sharp. Fiogen laughed.

“I wouldn’t dare presume such a thing. I simply wish to avoid the Emperor’s notice.”

Delcart nodded. Their clandestine agreement was sealed.

Just as the sun fully crested the horizon, Karta’s black stallion arrived at the ducal estate. Watching from the window, Fiogen murmured,

“Did he really not trust me?”

Karta never missed his morning training. His arrival, having canceled all his engagements, confirmed his deep infatuation with Duke Delcart.

Why had she assumed this was just a story? From their first meeting, Karta had been strangely different from the character in the book. The Karta in the novel would have killed her without hesitation.

Looking back, she’d been foolish, focused on dying instead of living. Now, she was determined to survive.

***

Karta slept soundly for the first time in a long while. Fiogen’s constant antics had robbed him of peaceful slumber. Besides, in war, complacency was a weakness. Calm days were often precursors to disaster.

A sense of unease prompted him to reach out. It had become a habit, searching for Fiogen in his sleep. Only the feel of her warmth brought him comfort.

This time, there was no warmth, only the cold, empty sheets.

“Fiogen?”

He called her name, but there was no answer. He opened his eyes to a sunlit room. Had it been dark, the emptiness wouldn’t have felt so profound. But the bright sunlight only emphasized the absence of her presence.

His eyes narrowed as he took in the unfamiliar brightness. He threw off the silk sheets, unconcerned that his bare torso was exposed. He strode to the door, searching for her.

“Fiogen!”

He scanned the hallway, but it was deserted. Only his guards, trembling, bowed low.

“Your Highness.”

His gaze was chilling. They had been assigned to protect Fiogen. Their ignorance enraged him.

“Where is Fiogen?”

The guards hesitated. Karta frowned at their silent exchange. As they looked to each other for answers, he turned and returned to his bedroom.

Fiogen clearly underestimated him. Before she’d entered his life, he had been a formidable man. He wasn’t soft, forgiving of mistakes. The Imperial Palace was no place for such weakness. It was a constant struggle for survival, where misplaced trust only led to betrayal. That was why he maintained his sharp, unyielding demeanor.

“I haven’t seen blood spilled in my chambers for a while.”

“W-We beg your forgiveness, Your Highness!”

The guards prostrated themselves before him. Karta walked slowly among them. For a fleeting moment, a chilling glint flickered in his eyes.

“Do you remember the blood oath you swore when you were assigned to my chambers?”

“Y-Yes!”

Their voices were barely audible. Karta’s eyes narrowed. Unlike other royals, he demanded oaths, sworn in blood. One of his maids had even taken her own life after being assigned to him. Whether that was the true reason, he didn’t care to know. He wasn’t interested in the personal affairs of others.

Karta dressed and retrieved his sword. The guards trembled at the sight of him armed.

“Pray that Fiogen is alive and well. I will deal with you upon my return.”

The guards nodded frantically. Karta sheathed his sword and frowned. He had a suspicion where she might be, but the thought of confronting her there, with Delcart, made him fear he would lose control. He hesitated, looking at his waiting stallion. As Delcart had said, love wasn’t simply about shared meals and polite conversation. If he were to see them kissing…

“Should I kill them?”

Even if it was the Emperor, he wouldn’t hesitate. He wouldn’t let anyone take Fiogen from him.

“Neigh!”

“Let’s go, Death.”

He mounted his stallion, praying that Fiogen wouldn’t be where he suspected. Delcart, too, held a special place in his heart, though not as significant as Fiogen.

Karta rode furiously to the ducal estate. And there, unfortunately, the first person he saw was Fiogen, looking down at him from Delcart’s bedroom window.

“Fiogen.”

He bit his lip, a strange, unfamiliar feeling rising within him.

“Your Highness.”

Everyone at the estate bowed at his arrival, including Delcart, who had emerged from his bedroom, clearly alerted by the commotion. Everyone except Fiogen, who continued to gaze directly at him. Her unwavering stare set him ablaze.