“Why is the back of your hand like this?”
Sasha looked down at the large hand covering his.
Three years ago, it had felt a little rougher than this. Maybe it was the upkeep, but while it was still coarse, it didn’t look like a hand that had suffered the way it used to.
Still— compared to Sasha’s hands, which were nothing but smooth, it was undeniably a blunt, sturdy hand. Depending on who you asked, they’d say a thicker frame and raised veins like this looked better than Sasha’s.
“Who did this?”
“…The Young Duke Grenville.”
“Rio did?”
The hand that had been carefully covering his lifted into the air.
Sasha raised his eyes and stared hard at Edward— expressionless, but somehow faintly flustered.
Sasha had been split into multiple branching paths, pacing back and forth with no idea which direction to go. Now, as if this was the correct answer, the road widened— and he sprinted down it.
‘Did he step in first so I wouldn’t suspect his people for no reason?’
Something happened, so he’s drawing a line early: not us.
‘Or it really was them, and he’s pretending it isn’t.’
He tells Sasha— who knew nothing— that someone’s trying to kill him, scares him, and then gets ahead of it: but I’m on your side.
Why is he so twisted? How can he think something this vile?
Because Sasha used to do it all the time.
‘Ahem.’
Sasha hurriedly smoothed his face as he almost shot Edward a condemning glare.
He’d used that face of his to the fullest— whispering I’m on your side while prying out information, pulling strings from behind— more times than he could count. It was too embarrassing.
And yet the suspicion that all of this was a scheme by Edward’s people only grew stronger.
‘Am I thinking too badly of them?’
He couldn’t hammer in the nail and declare this was definitely Edward’s side, because it wasn’t only them who hated Sasha.
How many times had members of the Grand Duke’s faction and the Emperor’s faction been burned by Sasha? The reason they’d lost to Edward so quickly had a lot to do with Sasha’s work behind the scenes.
And on top of that, people who didn’t know the details would’ve gone feral when they saw Sasha— who they’d assumed had fallen with them— suddenly summoned to the Imperial Palace as Edward’s “guest,” and even walking in and out of the emperor’s study.
But no matter how much they hated Sasha and wanted him dead, the odds of them actually being able to touch him were low.
‘Why?’
Hadn’t Rio just told him today?
A huge number of the nobles under them had been beheaded all over again by Edward.
In that situation, planting someone inside the Imperial Palace Edward controlled? If they could do that, they wouldn’t be trying to kill Sasha— they’d be trying to kill Edward.
‘Which means the most suspicious one is Edward.’
Sasha stared at Edward, who kept flicking his gaze between Sasha’s hand and Sasha’s face.
Fine. Let’s say both factions scraped together every shred of strength they had left and tried to kill Sasha.
Even then, for them to carry it out, there would have to be subtle help from Edward’s people— whether those involved knew it or not.
How does he know?
Because Sasha had done it before! Grand Duke, deposed former Emperor, Edward— all three powers had, knowingly or not, benefited from Sasha’s help at one point or another.
‘Damn it.’
He’d done so many bad things that his own past made him understand villains far too well.
“…How did it happen?”
Sasha watched Edward’s hand retreat under the table, unable to touch the back of his hand anymore. He couldn’t exactly say, I played with Rio’s hand and got put in my place. Especially not after confirming again how much Edward cherished Rio.
“Our hands collided.”
As Sasha studied the wrinkle forming between Edward’s brows, another possibility struck him.
‘What if there was never an assassination attempt at all?’
Sasha had only heard from Edward that something happened— he hadn’t actually seen proof with his own eyes.
How does he know?
Why does he keep asking? Because Sasha had done that before, too.
Nothing riles people up faster than fake news.
The more sensational, filthy, and dangerous it was, the faster rumors spread.
Sasha had profited from it plenty. When the fight over the throne had been at its fiercest, the three remaining factions— shaking with rage after being burned by Sasha over and over— had waged information wars just as dirty.
But Sasha, who was already far ahead of everyone thanks to the original, never lost those wars. Unless he needed to lose.
“So it wasn’t intentional.”
“That’s correct.”
“Treatment?”
Sasha looked down at the back of his hand. The chaotic weave of red and blue looked like his future.
“Do you think something like this warrants treatment?”
If Edward was right, then Sasha’s life was under threat right now.
Sasha laughed coldly, and yet another fresh assumption rose up.
‘What if this is all one enormous board Edward set up?’
The mercy he’d shown back then— not killing Sasha, choosing confinement instead— could’ve been groundwork for this moment. Pretending kindness while hiding malice underneath was something Sasha was good at, too.
‘…I really did a lot of horrible things.’
He’d been suspecting Edward, but the longer he thought, the clearer only his own sins became.
I deserve punishment.
‘Self-pity later.’
Right now, getting out of this mattered more.
Sasha shoved down the weak thoughts and made a decision to survive.
“Still, it would be better to receive treatment.”
Whether there had truly been an attempt on his life was one question— but Sasha needed to stay wary of Edward Lacarte, who was standing right in front of him acting upright and rigid.
‘The novel is over.’
If he’d killed off that many nobles, Edward wasn’t just a kind protagonist anymore. He was a cold, calculating Emperor.
Sasha glared primly at Edward as he called for a servant and ordered them to bring ice for a cold compress and medicine.
‘The author I trusted threw a bomb at me— Edward’s image can change, too.’
Just like Sasha becoming a loyal subject in that damned side story, couldn’t Edward become the villain instead?
While Sasha was busily feeding his suspicion, Edward— pressing ice to Sasha’s hand— asked,
“Does it hurt?”
It was so cold it stung. Was frostbite the goal?
‘Okay. That’s too far.’
Sasha caught himself before his imagination sprinted past the line. And instead of answering a pointless question, he decided to settle the one that mattered.
“Why did you tell me?”
Edward’s gaze shifted from Sasha’s hand to Sasha’s face.
“You didn’t have to tell me.”
Even if— by some miracle— Edward had nothing to do with this, his behavior still didn’t make sense.
He’d said he couldn’t send Sasha back to the territory because he suspected him, so from Edward’s perspective, Sasha dying would actually be convenient. Edward wouldn’t even have to touch him— the thorn would pull itself out.
Edward stayed silent for a long time, tracing the line of Sasha’s mouth— a mouth with no hint of a smile.
Sasha forced himself not to rush him.
‘Either answer, or let go of my hand.’
Sasha shot Edward a sideways look as Edward kneaded Sasha’s hand like it belonged to him.
‘Is there some meaning to this?’
At first Edward rubbed the back of his hand gently, then started stroking Sasha’s nails and each joint, and at the end he flipped Sasha’s hand over and pressed firmly into his palm.
When Sasha’s hand curled in, Edward finally spoke.
“How would it be… if you lived here from now on?”
Here? Edward’s bedroom?
The words that came out of Edward’s mouth shattered every assumption Sasha had made.
What— if his goal was to crush Sasha before he started acting up, then this suggestion made no sense.
If everything really was something Edward had staged, like Sasha had been thinking, then Edward’s goal would be the ridiculous conclusion that he wanted to share a room with Sasha.
‘If I share a room with him, does something good happen?’
What good thing?
Edward had nothing to gain. If anything, sharing a room with a Sasha he didn’t trust would only be more dangerous.
‘So he really told me about the assassination attempt because he’s worried about me?’
Is a person really that kind?
Is that even possible?
If someone who tried to kill you is facing assassination threats, wouldn’t you usually think, serves you right?
Good. Now you get to taste it.
‘Am I thinking too much from a villain’s perspective?’
How long had it been since his mind had been purified clean in the Ambrose territory— only to get smeared black again the moment he returned to the capital? People said it was easier to get dirty than to get clean.
But—
Sasha forced words out fast.
“Absolutely not.”
He couldn’t let himself drift into Edward’s bedroom like this.
“The safest place in the Imperial Palace is here.”
So what?
But with those unwavering eyes, Edward didn’t look like he’d back down easily. Sasha didn’t know why Edward was that serious about Sasha’s safety, but there was only one way Sasha could refuse.
“Is it?”
Villain Sasha.
Sasha still hadn’t given up on staying a villain. No— he couldn’t.
Smack— Sasha slapped Edward’s hand away, then smiled as sweetly as a spring breeze.
“Because to me…”
Even as he smiled, the voice that came out was cold enough to slice flesh.
“…this seems like the most dangerous place of all.”