Chapter 49: Omen

Asking for the bathroom’s location was one thing, but being charged at with a knife? Seriously?

Pushing aside the absurdity of it all, survival came first. I twisted my body to dodge.

He must have been putting his all into that charge because he lost his balance and stumbled forward. The blade grazed my forearm in the process, but I didn’t care.

This was nothing compared to what I’d been through so far.

‘So, what do I do no—?’

Time stopped.

Or rather, it seemed to stop for a moment.

Slowly, I rolled my eyes to focus on the guy frozen in mid-air.

His face was beet-red. Lowering my gaze slightly, I saw a hand gripping his neck.

He hadn’t stopped on his own; someone had suddenly reached out and grabbed him as he fell.

My eyes slowly followed the arm up to the hand’s owner—

“…Brother?”

“……”

I met his unwavering green eyes.

What the hell? Why are you here?

As if my question hadn’t reached him, Cruel quietly scanned me before looking down at the man in his grip.

His hand tightened, as if he intended to kill him right there.

Veins bulged on his wrist and forearm, and the face of the man being choked turned crimson, his eyes bloodshot.

“Kuh, uhh—”

Wow, brutal.

He was frantically trying to pry Cruel’s arm off with both hands, a pathetic sight that made me turn away with a look of disbelief. Just then, something clattered to the servant’s feet.

“…Paperwork?”

Seriously? Was he really a spy?

My hand instinctively reached for it, but another hand snatched the papers first.

It couldn’t be Cruel; he was still choking the guy.

Then the owner of this hand must be…

“This seems to be important Imperial paperwork.”

“…Duke?!”

“Long time no see, Count.”

Purple eyes crinkled with a smile. I quickly scrambled to my feet.

What’s he doing here? Someone who’s not even on good terms with the Emperor?

“I was on my way back from a brief audience with His Majesty, rewarding a well-behaved dog. I never expected to run into you here.”

His gaze flickered over my injured shoulder.

…Isn’t it odd for a Duke, not even part of the Imperial Family, to be keeping dogs in the Imperial Palace?

No, more than that, my question must have been written all over my face.

I awkwardly rubbed my face at his reply, which was laced with amusement. But the Duke wasn’t done speaking.

“I heard you were here to see His Majesty as well, Count. May I ask what brings you here?”

“Ah, I wanted to inquire about the territory I recently received…”

“Is it insufficient? Too small, or perhaps the land is barren?”

“No, I simply wish to return the territory.”

“That’s intriguing.”

Watching the Duke’s eyes curve gently with interest, I inwardly showed my distress.

What if he asks more? I don’t want to discuss the reasons here.

Especially not in front of Cruel.

Whether he noticed my apprehension about being questioned, thankfully, the Duke didn’t press further.

But I wasn’t grateful. The topic he shifted to was quite awkward for me.

His gaze dropped to the servant sprawled on the floor.

Cruel, who had been choking the man just moments ago, now stood behind the Duke, his expression as calm as ever.

You’d never guess he’d been strangling someone just moments ago.

“To apprehend a spy while waiting, you truly are remarkable.”

“No, this…”

“There’s no need for modesty, nor to be wary. I have no intention of taking credit. Even if Sir Cruel hadn’t been here, the Count would have easily subdued this man.”

“No, that’s not…”

“Count!”

Ugh, what now!

Filled with annoyance, I turned toward the voice, only to immediately relax my tensed expression.

Approaching from afar were none other than the Crown Prince and the Princess.

“We were worried when you didn’t return after so much time…”

Golden eyes quickly scanned the scene.

As expected of the Crown Prince, he grasped the situation in an instant and plastered on a smile.

“So, you even managed to catch a spy.”

“Well, that’s…”

“You’re truly amazing!”

“Cough, Your Highness the Princess…”

Could you both just keep quiet?

Are they doing this on purpose? Trying to mess with me? There’s no other way they could be putting pressure on me so subtly while pretending otherwise.

But something about the atmosphere felt off. The air had shifted somehow.

Thinking something was wrong, I cautiously raised my head, only to meet the wide eyes of everyone present.

“Count, are you alright?”

“…Yes?”

“Oh, oh no, blood!”

“…?”

“Summon the court physician! Now!!”

The Princess’s outburst and the Crown Prince’s shout for the court physician echoed through the palace corridor.

Only then did I feel the warm liquid dripping down my chin.

Ah, I thought it was just a coughing fit, but it seems this frail body can get injured even by small shocks. No wonder my stomach felt a little off.

It couldn’t have been just a coughing fit; the shock of the ambush must have contributed to this outcome.

“I’m fine…”

“Don’t lie. Tell me what happened. You must have some idea, don’t you?”

“No, really…”

“Now that I look, you have a wound on your arm. It looks recent.”

The Crown Prince’s gaze landed on the graze from the knife.

This is just a scratch. I’m really okay.

Seriously, even if I’m weak, there’s no way I’d cough up blood from something like this.

I was trying to figure out how to explain this to the stubborn royals in front of me when Cruel, who had been silently observing, spoke up.

“It appears to have happened while subduing the spy.”

“In that case… we need to consider the possibility of poison on the weapon. Has the court physician arrived yet?”

…Huh? Poison?

While I sat there dumbfounded by the way the situation was escalating, a piece of cloth was tied around the upper part of the graze.

The Crown Prince tied it tightly near my shoulder, likely to prevent the poison from spreading… He tied it too tight.

‘My blood circulation is being cut off completely.’

No, more than that, my arm feels like it’s going to fall off. And because it’s so tight, the wound is bleeding even more.

What started as normal red blood was now seeping out in dark, almost black droplets.

“It is poison after all.”

It’s because the blood isn’t circulating! If you tie it this tight, of course the blood will turn dark.

But where did this cloth come from? Who carries something like this around…? Ah.

My eyes met Cruel’s. And next to him, the Duke was smiling with narrowed eyes, offering praise with a meaningful tone, as if saying ‘well done’…

‘That bastard gave it to him.’

My mood plummeted. I wanted to rip off this useless thing right now, but I couldn’t exactly undo what the Crown Prince had personally tied.

Too exhausted to argue, I simply resigned myself and closed my eyes.

It was my way of trying to ignore this whole cursed situation, but…

“Count! You can’t close your eyes! Just hang in there a little longer!”

“…Haa…”

***

The court physician was examining the patient with a stiff expression. His hands trembled almost imperceptibly, noticeable only to a keen observer.

If this situation felt familiar, it was no coincidence.

The court physician was the very same one who had examined the Honorary Count Deon Hart after he’d vomited blood at the banquet hall last time.

Ah, it wasn’t blood; it was pudding. Just thinking about it was absurd.

So, even as he rushed here this time, a sliver of doubt lingered in the back of his mind.

‘But this time it’s real.’

The metallic smell was undeniable. This meant it was a truly dangerous situation…

He swallowed the surge of tears welling up.

The patient’s condition was different from last time, but the surrounding individuals remained the same.

Crown Prince and Princess, Duke, and even the hero Cruel. He tried to find solace in the absence of His Majesty the Emperor and General Nemesius, but—

“What’s going on here?”

As if the heavens hated him, even General Nemesius had arrived.

He seemed to have business with Honorary Count Deon Hart, bowing respectfully to the Crown Prince and Princess before settling in to observe. Cold sweat trickled down the physician’s back.

One mistake, and he was surely dead. Even if he couldn’t treat the patient, he’d be dead. The court physician’s hands moved frantically, fueled by a sense of mortal danger.

He checked the mouth, the pulse, and the wound.

The more the examination progressed, the paler the court physician’s face became.

His expression was so grim that even the onlookers grew anxious. Finally, the Crown Prince, unable to bear it any longer, spoke with concern.

“Is it that serious?”

“That is…”

“It’s alright, tell us.”

“…There are no particular abnormalities.”

“…What?”

His completely unexpected answer was met with a moment of silence.

The Crown Prince’s eyes twitched in disbelief, and the Princess covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide. Cruel stared intently at the court physician, his lips pressed into a thin line.

While the others were trying to make sense of it, Nemesius, who had arrived later and observed the situation, was the first to offer an explanation.

“Then it must be the Demon King’s curse.”

“Ah…”

Understanding dawned on the faces of the others.

So, that’s why he said he was fine. Because there was no way to treat it anyway.

He probably didn’t want to cause unnecessary worry and effort.

Expressions of resignation appeared and disappeared on their faces. The Crown Prince, in particular, looked at Deon Hart with pity.

‘He’s so deep-thinking.’

It was a shame the others didn’t see this side of him.

Recalling Deon Hart’s public image, the Crown Prince forced his expression to remain neutral and changed the subject.

‘He doesn’t want anyone focusing on his curse.’

Pity would only make him uncomfortable.

He finally turned his gaze away from him to a robust man who had arrived belatedly.

“General Nemesius, what brings you here in person?”

***

The Crown Prince’s attention shifted elsewhere. I quietly sighed in relief, my heart having been pounding about what else might be said about the ‘curse’.

For some reason, whenever that nonexistent curse was mentioned, some ridiculous extra detail would always get tacked on.

But that was short-lived.

“His Majesty the Emperor seeks Honorary Count Deon Hart.”

“Cou, cough!”

I barely managed to suppress the cough that threatened to burst out.

No, I have to hold it in. Who knows what kind of crazy situation will unfold if I cough again.

The General’s gaze locked onto me. I pressed my hand tightly over my mouth, lowered my eyes, and tried to calm my racing heart.

…I’ve calmed down, but I still don’t understand.

General, why are you here in person? What’s the point of having perfectly good servants if not for errands like this?

He even looks displeased. There’s annoyance in the way his gaze sweeps over me.

The General’s busy eyes scanned the people present before stopping on the flustered servant.

“Before that, it seems we have an uninvited guest. May I handle this?”

“I was about to ask you to. Keep in mind that Count Hart caught the spy, so there’s no mistake about that.”

“…Understood.”

The fact that my name was specifically mentioned in that conversation makes me uneasy, but the conversation is over anyway.

So, now they just need to drag that guy to the dungeon… Why are you looking at me like that?

And why does your gaze look so ominous?

“Since you need to see His Majesty anyway, and he’s your captive, you’ll come with me.”

“Excuse me?”