“I’ll give you as m-much money as you want! Stop, someone help!”

Help is never going to come.

The moment that thought escaped his mind, his hand moved in swift coordination. Within seconds, a brilliant red shower burst forth, splattering blood everywhere.

The man who had exhaled his final breath, and collapsed, was none other than royalty from Teges, the nation who had destroyed his homeland Serrat. However, his heart, which should have calmed down after his spree, was still restless. Even if he slaughtered and burned those who had wronged him, his beloved family, his beloved country would never return.

He knew that revenge was meaningless. But he was rendered helpless. His sole purpose: the reason why he could live was to destroy Teges and Armenia, just as they had done when Serrat had been baited, betrayed, and obliterated. Luciano looked down at his hands which were dyed in raw blood. Immediately, he felt his heart tug, transporting him back to two years ago. The image of a girl with platinum hair appeared vividly in his mind. Why did he not kill her? Until then, he had never hesitated to kill his targets.

“Your highness Luciano, that was magnificent. Glory to Serrat.”

Upon hearing the language of his homeland, Luciano immediately jolted out of his reverie. Former knights of Serrat were waiting at his command, shadows dressed starkly in black robes. At the beginning of the uprising, the number of knights had exceeded two hundred, but gradually that number had dwindled down to a mere fifty-two. The weak were eliminated, leaving only the elite. The two vanguards were named Frian and Leandro, both of whom were aides of Luciano since his childhood. The plump short man beside them was Conrad, a figure unsuitable for combat but whose value lay in his intelligence and assessment.

“Frian, throw this filthy corpse into the royal palace. Let them reel in this delight *.”

(This idiom やつらに泡を吹かせてやれliterally translates to ‘let them blow some bubbles’; the implication means to horrify the subject until they get goosebumps and froth at the mouth.)

When Frian, who had been bestowed the royal’s life, departed with a few knights in tow, Conrad stepped forward. “May I speak?”

When he saw Luciano permit him, Conrad rubbed his hands together. “Today is your birthday; you are twenty today! Congratulations!” Conrad grinned at the emotionless cloaked man before him. The smile on his face began to crack with each passing second. Luciano could make a minute feel like forever.

“I don’t care. Conrad, is that all you’re going to say?” Luciano, who glared at him as if he were worthless shit, received a hurried denial from Conrad.

“No, that’s not all. I received a letter from Miss Flavia. Should I read it out?” Conrad cleared his throat and prepared to recite its contents.

“Whatever’s written, it’s absurd,” Luciano replied coldly. “Burn it.”

“No, well, it seems that apparently everything is already in place. Flavia wishes to remarry an Armenian nobleman and hopes for you to come to Armenia. Then-”

Luciano held out his hand and interrupted Conrad’s report.

“Leandro, there are insects. You go round from the left. I’ll kill.”

Luciano drew his sword, and after flicking his jaw towards Leandro, stepped forward.

♔♔♔

What kind of life are you leading today? What kind of memories are you making I wonder?

What kind of life am I leading today? What kind of memories am I making?

Light fell from the lamp. The delicate streaks of light gradually increased in thickness as her golden eyelashes swayed. Then, juniper green eyes appeared. Alana, who felt the light hovering over her eyes, fluttered awake. That never changed. Every morning, the feeling was routine. Today was yet another day waiting to begin.

When she raised her body up from the large bed, the surrounding thin drapes swayed. It was the sign of a person. Perhaps someone was sneaking in. She only had one idea.

“Benito, are you there?”

Kuku. In the quiet room, a chuckle resounded.

“Miss, you’re sharp as always. If you uncover the secret, the story’s no longer fun!”

“I have been with you for two years. It would be strange not to notice.”

“Hehh, two years. Has it been so long since I’ve become Gustavo’s successor? Say, am I better than that dead man?”

Alana raised her nose, “both of you are of equal importance. You do not have to compare.”

“Important, huh…is that all right? I am but a lowly fellow unfit to be the noble queen’s dog.”

“I like your ‘eyes’ and ‘ears’.”

The thin drapes that surrounded Alana’s bedposts split into two. A man with maroon hair and a baby face appeared. On the contrary, his appearance did not match his low voice. The man toying with the cloth seemed to be in his mid-twenties, but his exact age was unknown.