The next day, when Sasha opened his eyes, he checked his condition—and aside from the bitter, astringent taste in his mouth, he felt no different than usual.
Not only was he not in pain, with no aftereffects at all, but he’d slept so deeply that his fatigue was completely gone, and on top of that, he felt refreshingly hollowed out, like his insides had been cleared clean.
His body felt too fine, to the point he wondered if it hadn’t been poison at all, and he’d simply been drunk.
“It was poison.”
At Edward’s confirmation, Sasha’s worry vanished.
Not that it’s something to celebrate.
If his condition was this good despite drinking poison, it was probably because he’d chugged down the equivalent of an entire castle.
I really did drink all that expensive stuff.
As soon as he got up, he brushed his teeth four times. He ate too—thin soup, but still a meal. He even drank strongly scented tea, yet the dry, puckering feeling still seemed to cling to his mouth, making Sasha crease his brow.
Pressing the inside of his cheek hard with his tongue, Sasha stared at Edward, who was silent.
He must think he went too far.
Or maybe he only now regrets the money.
Sasha, irritated by Edward doing nothing but watching his mouth without explaining anything, pushed him.
“So what kind of poison was it?”
“Do you not remember?”
Remember what. Sasha lifted a brow, and only then did Edward answer.
“It’s a type of truth serum. They said they wanted everyone to learn your true nature.”
It was the worst.
Wasn’t that exactly what Sasha needed to be most wary of?
Sasha snapped back on reflex.
“I don’t know. I’ve never hidden who I am.”
“…Have you not?”
With no change in expression, Sasha lied smoothly.
“That’s right.”
Acting was basically his daily life now—Edward probably didn’t notice Sasha’s lie.
Sasha lifted his chin with confidence, then, under Edward’s unwavering stare, remembered the coercive grip that had forced his cheeks together before he passed out, and that trash taste sliding down his throat. It had been so awful he couldn’t remember anything after that.
Maybe I fainted because it tasted so bad.
Sasha started, genuinely dripping with sarcasm.
“Looks like the idea that Your Majesty’s bedchamber is the safest place was wrong.”
Even if it hadn’t endangered his life, poison was poison.
So why not use this?
Half a dozen ways to be nasty—by poking at Edward’s guilt and sense of responsibility—lined up neatly in his mind.
“Viscount.”
Sasha picked the second-worst method.
But before Sasha could even open his mouth, Edward spoke first.
“I won’t claim this wasn’t my responsibility.”
And then he offered something else.
“That said… would you like to meet the culprit?”
He would let him meet them?
“I’ll hand over the right to punish them to you.”
Who—this time’s culprit?
Was that allowed?
Sasha’s brain started spinning at full speed again.
If Edward was letting him meet them, did that mean it wasn’t someone on Edward’s side?
Or was it someone on Edward’s side, and Edward was simply cutting off the tail?
Or was it someone on Edward’s side, but Edward opposed it, and this was him making an example—putting punishment in Sasha’s hands?
The same category of assumptions flooded his mind.
He hated repeating the same questions. He needed to confirm this properly, now, while he had the chance.
If he could meet the culprit directly—and he even had the right to punish them—pulling information out of them wouldn’t be difficult.
“Are you saying I can do whatever I want?”
Sasha asked casually, hiding the way his chest was pounding with anticipation. Edward nodded without hesitation.
At the answer he wanted, Sasha sprang up with eager energy.
“Where do we go?”
*****
Underground prisons were all the same.
Cold, dark, damp—silent in a way that maximized fear.
Sasha looked down at the culprit, who had been dragged out beyond the bars and strapped into a chair, bound at the arms and legs and even the neck, trembling violently.
They looked completely ordinary. Brown hair, brown eyes—someone so unremarkable you’d forget them the moment they passed.
Then again, when had a bad person ever walked around with I’m bad written on their face? Sasha himself, at least when it came to his face, was infamous for looking like an angel.
This should be enough, right?
The culprit tried to act bold, their jaw clenched hard enough to pop, but their shaking pupils gave them away. Sasha, watching that, finally broke the long silence he’d maintained.
“Name. Affiliation.”
The culprit glared at Sasha with murderous eyes, as if this was all Sasha’s fault, brazenly flipping the blame.
Sasha didn’t react to that gaze at all. He simply repeated himself.
“Name. Affiliation.”
Sasha had received countless looks of adoration, countless looks of fear.
And just as many looks like this.
A look that resented him and wanted him dead.
Sorry, but the time for being afraid of that had ended ages ago—especially when the other person was tied up so completely that all they could do was spit curses.
When Sasha didn’t flinch and stayed calmly in place, the culprit ground their teeth and answered in a voice forced down to a strained calm.
“Jeras Farmer. Imperial Palace kitchen staff.”
Sasha recalled what Edward had told him about this person before they came down.
A commoner born in the capital—talented enough that the Imperial Palace head chef had personally brought him in.
He’d been working in the Imperial Palace for two months, assigned to desserts.
This man—ordinary in every way except cooking skill—was the culprit?
Ridiculous.
He’d only carried out the act of adding poison. There was someone else behind him.
A palace servant, at most, dared to poison someone who was in the Emperor’s bedchamber?
Even if it wasn’t the kind that threatened a life, if anything went wrong, Edward could have eaten it.
You’d need an outrageous amount of nerve to carry something like that out.
Which is why I still can’t completely trust Edward.
How, exactly, did the poison end up only in the chocolate Sasha ate?
How could they know what chocolate Sasha would eat?
People in the capital even knew Sasha didn’t like sweets.
Though now that I think about it… there have been a lot of sweet things lately.
Wasn’t the last poison found in dessert too?
No. Put that aside for a moment.
“His Majesty left your punishment to me. Do you understand what that means?”
Sasha stepped closer to the culprit bound to the chair. At that, someone behind Sasha flinched.
Sasha took one more step forward, slipping out of reach of Edward—who looked like he was about to grab him.
Edward could not step in here. Not under any circumstances.
Everything that happened next needed to happen fully under Sasha’s control.
That was why, before coming down here, Sasha had extracted one promise from Edward, who insisted on accompanying him.
Don’t interfere. Not once.
No matter what happened, Edward was not to speak, not to move—only to stand behind him.
Even with Sasha’s insolent demand that if Edward couldn’t do that, he shouldn’t come at all, Edward had said he understood.
Sasha didn’t bother turning around to remind Edward of their agreement.
This time, you have to protect me, right?
Edward had already failed once to protect Sasha. Yes, the neutralizer Sasha had provided had helped—but that was only damage control after the fact.
If Edward made another mistake here, Edward—who had dealt with Sasha more than a few times by now—would know better than anyone what Sasha would do next.
The culprit’s gaze went to Sasha, then slid toward Edward behind him.
It was the movement of someone checking whether Sasha’s words were true.
What a novel experience.
Sasha—having his sincerity doubted.
In the past, Sasha’s word itself had been proof. Truth. Reality.
But now, they feared the backing behind him more than Sasha himself.
No. That won’t do.
To drag that gaze back from Edward, Sasha spoke again.
“It means there’s no one to stop me if I reveal my true nature exactly the way you wanted.”
The culprit looked at Sasha, drenched in fear.
Today, Sasha planned to actively use the villainous reputation the culprit already believed in.
Sasha Ambrose—the one said to have a face too dazzling to feel real, to commit cruelty no human could commit, and then smile sweetly without a trace of guilt.
The more the culprit believed that reputation, the more they’d imagine what might happen next—and the more terrified they’d become.
Looking down at the dark brown eyes sinking into a deep mire, Sasha let a smile curve softly at the corners of his eyes.
“How is it? Sounds fun, doesn’t it?”
Huh?
The Sasha smiling inside those brown eyes looked innocent and bright—like a child who’d found a toy they adored.
It was exactly what he intended, but even so… he looked like a lunatic.
“Then first… who told you to do this?”
Sasha curled his fingers in a small beckoning motion, smiling as if the answer didn’t matter, as if he was expecting it either way.
His voice was so warm it was almost tender.
Those brown eyes tracked the lazy movement of Sasha’s fingertips.
“If you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to.”
As if worried they might not understand the implication, Sasha even explained kindly—then reached out and gently brushed aside the damp brown hair stuck to the culprit’s forehead and face with sweat.
“You’re very tense.”
How pitiful.
At the same time as his cloying voice, the touch of his hand skimming the culprit’s forehead made the culprit’s body lock rigid.
Sasha felt it—yet he didn’t withdraw his hand.
After tucking the hair behind the culprit’s ear, Sasha lowered his head and met their eyes.
The distance was already close, and now it narrowed further.
It made it easy to see how frozen the other person was.
Pupils shaking wildly. Sweat running down their temples. Lips drained of color, trembling. Roughened breaths.
Unlike the culprit, who was shaken to the core, Sasha’s face was clean and smooth as he asked, kindly—
“Do you want me to help you?”