tyrant chapter 14

“Fiogen.”

“Yes?”

“Do you think people can only die at the hands of another?”

His mother had taken her own life. Not even the Emperor, who possessed everything in the world, could possess her. He, too…

“No. I think you can just die randomly walking down the street.” Fiogen answered casually, her throat tightening. It was a mortifying death, even in retrospect. Being transported into this novel was absurd…

“But, I’m a surprisingly responsible person. I intend to fulfill my role properly.” Fiogen was sincere. However, Karta, listening to her, frowned.

“Role?”

“Yes. That’s why I’ll only die by your hand.”

“That’s a relief.” Karta murmured softly. Fiogen, observing him, narrowed her eyes and raised her voice.

“What’s a relief? You haven’t killed me yet!”

“At least I won’t have to see you suddenly dead. That’s a relief.”

At Karta’s words, Fiogen gave a hollow laugh. Considering his life spent walking over corpses, it was a remarkably incongruous statement.

“If you’re going to kill me anyway, just get it over with. I have no regrets.”

“What if you develop regrets?”

“Do you think that’s possible?”

Karta gazed into Fiogen’s eyes, shimmering in the dawn moonlight. He, who had always been most comfortable alone, now found the greatest comfort by Fiogen’s side.

“You said you wanted to experience romance.”

“Ah.” Fiogen stared at him, then chuckled softly. He couldn’t tell if her laughter was genuine or not. He only felt a sudden urgency.

“Have you found a suitable partner?”

“Yes.”

At Karta’s answer, Fiogen perked up. A man deemed suitable by the notoriously critical tyrant? Her heart couldn’t help but flutter.

“Who is it?”

“Me.” Karta pointed at himself and smiled. It was a beautiful smile, revealing straight, white teeth, but it didn’t satisfy Fiogen.

“Karta.”

“Yes?”

“That won’t do.” Fiogen’s gaze was firm, her refusal clear. He felt a sharp pang in his chest, a sudden ache that made him frown.

“Why?”

“Because you have to kill me. I don’t want to create any circumstances that might sway your resolve.”

At Fiogen’s words, he laughed.

“Fiogen.” He called her name, but she didn’t respond. He stopped laughing and looked at her. “Even if the world ends, I will never kill you.”

***

Even in the empire, Duke Delcart’s estate was magnificent. Perhaps not as grand as the imperial palace, but certainly impressive compared to other noble families. Unlike other noble houses, Duke Delcart’s estate was surrounded by beautiful, overflowing flowers, all reflecting the Duke’s personal taste. The previous Duke hadn’t been fond of flowers or plants; he merely maintained them for appearances. Delcart, however, was different. On his days off, he tended the garden himself, paying particular attention to it during the winter months.

“This is what simple happiness is all about.” Duke Delcart inhaled the beautiful floral fragrance as he pruned the dead leaves. The act of removing dead leaves was akin to cutting down enemies on the battlefield. Taking a life, even a plant’s, was regrettable, but decisiveness was necessary for the greater good.

He believed that the sacrifice of the few for the many was essential. In that sense, Prince Karta appealed to him more than the Crown Prince. When most nobles pledged their allegiance to the Crown Prince’s faction, Delcart had wavered slightly. It was only when Prince Karta told him to do as he pleased that he felt he had finally found a true liege. Delcart believed a true leader was someone willing to sacrifice for the empire, someone who would readily offer their own head.

Perhaps that was why he felt uneasy when he saw Prince Karta return with Princess Fiogen alive. He seemed different from the Prince Karta he knew, and it was unsettling. Duke Delcart intended to make Prince Karta the Emperor. No matter who tried to interfere, he would not be deterred. He had already made up his mind.

“Your Grace! Your Grace!”

After being drenched in crimson blood on the battlefield, he longed for the garden of his estate. That was why he never planted red flowers. He cherished the garden, cloaked in green. His holidays spent in the garden were always peaceful.

But such commotion on this beautiful holiday? The servant’s frantic voice grated on his nerves.

“Why all the fuss?”

The servant’s pale face looked as though he had seen Prince Karta himself. Delcart frowned at the thought of the Prince’s cold visage.

Prince Karta was completely out of place in his garden. He was the kind of man who ate well even after being covered in blood. The sight had made others vomit. Delcart, of course, hadn’t vomited. He had simply thought he didn’t want to show the Prince his garden.

“P-P-Prince Karta, Your Highness!”

At the servant’s words, Duke Delcart flinched. Speak of the devil.

“Are you saying Prince Karta himself has come to my estate?” Delcart’s simple happiness had long since vanished. Prince Karta seeking him out meant surrendering his holiday. Moreover, the Prince rarely ventured outside the palace recently. He wouldn’t even participate in the war because of Fiogen, who remained confined to his chambers. If the Prince had left the palace, it must be because of her.

“Your Highness.” Duke Delcart straightened up from the garden and bowed. Karta sighed, looking at him. The Duke didn’t quite catch the sigh. He was fixated on the Prince’s ruthless boots trampling his pristine garden.

“Delcart, what kind of relationship do we have?”

Delcart thought it an odd question, especially on his holiday, in his pristine garden. He lowered his gaze and replied, “I am your loyal subject, Your Highness.”

“That’s why I’m asking. I need you to romance Fiogen.”

Delcart’s face paled as he looked up at the Prince. On his only holiday, in his beautiful garden, the Prince’s request was to romance Princess Fiogen…