tyrant chapter 3

“…You knew I would come here?”

The man’s voice was laced with tension. Steam escaped through the crack in the door he’d left ajar. Fiogen removed her pipe and smiled faintly. She had known, but the Fiogen of the original story wouldn’t have, so there was nothing to say. Rising from the bed, she slowly approached the man.

“Does this mean Princess Lorecia was expecting me?” the man asked. Again, silence. The dead, after all, don’t answer. Fiogen had no intention of revealing the truth of fate.

Only when she stood before Prince Karta Helseiro’s sword did Fiogen’s heart begin to race.

“I prayed you’d arrive as soon as possible.”

Prince Karta’s frowning face was a blur. His supposedly handsome features were indistinct. The fear of death made it impossible to focus.

“Prayed? Why would Princess Lorecia be waiting for me?”

Instead of answering, Fiogen reached out and lightly grazed the blade of Karta’s sword. Blood welled up instantly. Karta swiftly withdrew his weapon, a frown deepening on his face. He thought it a strange action for someone who’d appeared at dawn with the intent to kill.

“Karta. Look at me. Sword in hand.”

When Karta frowned, Fiogen’s expression hardened.

“Don’t avoid it.”

She’d resolved to accept her fate, but a chilling tension gripped her. Forcing a smile, she met Karta’s gaze.

“Now, kill me with that beautiful sword. Right now.”

Fiogen waited in silence for death, but nothing happened. She cautiously opened her eyes. Princess Lorecia’s gaze met Karta’s, which was now tilted in confusion.

“Why should I kill you?”

Taken aback by the unexpected response, Fiogen blinked slowly. Could it be that it’s still early in the story, and he’s not used to killing people yet?

Although Karta’s face remained unclear, the young men Fiogen had seen earlier, chosen for the Royal Guard, came to mind. Karta was likely no different. The thought that killing someone might be as terrifying as being killed stirred a flicker of sympathy within her.

“Then… leave the sword here. I’ll fall on it myself.”

She hadn’t intended to make it this easy, but if this was her fate, so be it.

“I don’t kill those who ask for death. It’s my rule.”

This was a deviation from the novel. Prince Karta Helseiro hadn’t hesitated when he’d killed Princess Lorecia in the story. Momentarily puzzled, Fiogen steeled her resolve.

“Then, spare me. I beg you.”

She clasped her bloodstained hands together, putting all her effort into making her plea sound genuine. But Karta just stood there, like a mannequin.

***

“Karta. Why have you brought Princess Lorecia here?”

The Emperor, seated on his throne, wore a grim expression. His younger days had been unimaginably cruel. His possessiveness knew no bounds. He’d taken everything he desired, relentlessly invading and tormenting neighboring kingdoms. His seemingly eternal power had begun to wane with age and illness.

This decline had made him acutely anxious. He doubted he could survive a retaliatory war if one broke out. He needed a younger, stronger hand to take his place. Unfortunately, that hand belonged not to Crown Prince Belzenta, but to Prince Karta.

He hadn’t dreamed that Karta would bring Lorecia, Princess of Baoloradrem, to the empire. The Emperor’s apprehension was palpable. Karta, too, had shared the Emperor’s initial sentiment, at least until he’d met Fiogen.

“…I want her.”

Karta’s slow words gave the Emperor pause. While it appeared that the Emperor easily manipulated Karta, this was merely a facade. Karta’s temperament mirrored his own. The weak Crown Prince struggled to maintain his own position, but Karta was different. He was the kind of man who could overthrow the Emperor at any moment.