Chapter 56

Strictly speaking, the prince bore at least some responsibility for the circumstances that led to Isaac needing the bandages, but he clicked his tongue and left it at that. He had worn them since escaping the burning warehouse on the night before the new moon.

There were no wounds beneath them. For all their irritating chatter and general uselessness, the cats’ one genuinely valuable ability was the power to mend flesh. Still, Isaac could hardly appear the morning after being burned and cut to pieces in a state of perfect health. He therefore continued wearing the coverings.

“That is true. If Lord Kaiyan dislikes someone, he simply severs their head. He does not merely injure them.” Brick trailed off, his brow furrowing. “But when you appeared looking like that, the talk began…”

There was something deeply suspicious about the way he stopped. Since relocating to Blue Shadow Palace, Isaac had fallen woefully behind on the latest palace gossip. He pressed Brick for an answer.

“Saying what?”

“They are saying that Lord Kaiyan is secretly fond of you.”

Brick’s narrowed eyes looked deeply skeptical. Isaac opened his mouth, blinked, and felt a cold prickle run down his spine.

The rumor was so unexpected and absurd that it bordered on lunacy.

“What kind of insane story is that?”

“Why? They say when you disappear, he asks where you are.”

“… Once. That happened exactly once. I dozed off beneath a tree during my break and ended up sleeping there like a complete lunatic.”

Had the palace gossip mill already spun that far when the incident had only occurred yesterday? Isaac’s face crumpled in dismay. He had long known that rumors traveled with lightning speed through the court, but this was ridiculous. Even though his condition improved near the new moon, roaming about throughout the entire period had left him somewhat lethargic.

Once the tension finally eased and he finished his lunch, post-meal drowsiness had overcome him. He had decided to sleep only until the end of his break, lying beneath a tree in the rear garden, but he never could have dreamed that the first thing he would see upon waking was the yellow light of the late-afternoon sun.

Isaac had stared in horror, unable to believe his eyes. For several moments, he wondered if he were dreaming with his eyes open, or if he had never managed to open them at all.

It was pleasant to have slept deeply enough to feel perfectly refreshed, but unfortunately—as Isaac sprinted toward the prince’s office, he became convinced he was about to meet his end. Kaiyan showed no interest in the people around him and cared nothing for the personal affairs of his subordinates. He was not, however, a man who forgave the neglect of duty.

Why did no one wake me? What punishment will I receive?

Isaac entered the office with his face drained of color, meeting the prince’s gaze immediately. Kaiyan had been turning through a thick bundle of papers.

“I apologize. I meant to close my eyes only briefly, but…”

Isaac stood perfectly straight, every muscle in his body rigid. The Prince looked at him in silence. After only a heartbeat, however, Kaiyan returned his full attention to his documents.

That was all. He said nothing and continued working as if nothing had occurred. Isaac remained standing, muscles locked, waiting for the thunderous reprimand to fall. Would it come after Kaiyan finished that bundle?

The next one? He waited, and the sun fully set. Kaiyan finished five thick volumes of documents. An attendant finally arrived to announce that dinner was ready.

Still, nothing happened.

Even now, Isaac continued to trail the prince, cautiously gauging the shifting currents of his mood. The incident had occurred yesterday, and he increasingly suspected that no further retribution would follow. Kaiyan was neither a man to postpone necessary tasks nor one to harbor grudges for later release.

Isaac had learned the truth for himself when they reached the dining room that evening.

The chief chamberlain had kept glancing at him with a peculiar, knowing expression. Frustrated and miserable, Isaac had demanded to know why no one had bothered to wake him, though his resentment was directed at the wrong target. The chief chamberlain had immediately raised both hands in a gesture of frantic defense. He had tried, he insisted.

After reading in the study, the prince had closed his book, scanned the room, and suddenly inquired, “Where is the bodyguard?”

The chief chamberlain, distracted by a discussion regarding palace maintenance, only then realized that Isaac was absent. Startled, he had blurted out, “He appeared to be taking a brief nap earlier. I will send someone to retrieve him immediately.”

The prince had merely looked through the window toward the shade beneath the trees. “Never mind. Leave him be.” That had been the end of it.

The chamberlain had considered waking Isaac regardless, but he had survived for years by following the prince’s orders to the letter. He had left Isaac alone, resulting in a blissful, dreamless sleep that lasted until late afternoon.

***

“Why did he simply let you walk away?” Brick tilted his head, his expression simmering with blatant suspicion.

“Exactly. Though, judging by that look on your face, you seem entirely dissatisfied with the outcome, don’t you?”

Had they not been standing in the middle of the Grand Council Chamber during a formal Council of State meeting, Isaac would have seized him by the throat. Instead, he shot Brick a venomous, sideways glare.

“I’m not dissatisfied. The whole thing is just profoundly strange. Lord Kaiyan isn’t the kind of man to let someone off that easily.”

“What do you mean, he isn’t?” Brick mused. “Though, I suppose I shared that sentiment at first. He can be surprisingly lenient toward his own subordinates when the mood strikes him.”

Even so, when Isaac reflected on how flagrantly he had neglected his duties, it seemed perfectly in character for Kaiyan to deliver a flat, indifferent, “You need not report for work tomorrow,” even if he ultimately chose not to kill him.

“And then you started pacing around the palace wrapped from head to toe in bandages,” Brick noted. “Naturally, the gossip mill decided Lord Kaiyan must be rather fond of you.”

“What on earth does being injured and covered in bandages have to do with him fancying me?” Isaac stared at Brick in sheer disbelief, utterly unable to process such bizarre logic.

Brick looked back with an equal amount of incredulity. “You used to be sharp and quick-witted, Isaac. Why on earth have you become so dense?” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Think it through. Lord Kaiyan either eliminates people or ignores them into nonexistence. Yet, he injured you and left you breathing. Doesn’t that strike a chord? Do you really not understand? ”

As Brick laid it out, the horrifying realization finally dawned upon Isaac. He grasped exactly what the bastard was implying, and his expression curdled into instant revulsion.

“You mean…”

“Who, besides his favored bedwarmers, has ever been harmed by him and yet lived to tell the tale?” Brick continued, his tone gratingly patient. “Furthermore, you were assigned to the Blue Shadow Palace as his bodyguard, a term everyone naturally translated to bedwarmer.” He leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Now, tell me. Just between us, what is the actual truth?”

“…You bastards placed another wager on this, didn’t you?” Isaac’s voice turned ominous.

Instead of offering a denial, Brick offered a blindingly bright smile and patted Isaac on the shoulder. They had. Isaac buried his heel into the top of Brick’s foot with lethal precision and fixed his gaze straight ahead. He didn’t so much as blink when a stifled, silent scream erupted from his companion.

He had always known the royal court was a cesspool of gossip and agitation. Rumors were mere cocktails of conjecture and absolute delusion, and no one could possibly account for the sheer volume of falsehoods circulating the palace walls. If the subject was prominent, a single sneeze on the street could blossom into a report of a terminal illness by sunset.

By now, people across the palace likely believed he was some kind of masochistic bedwarmer who satisfied Lord Kaiyan’s sadistic appetites so thoroughly that he forgave every one of his blunders. Isaac massaged his temples as a throbbing headache threatened to shatter his composure, then looked toward the front of the Grand Council Chamber.

The statuesque man drew more attention than anyone else present, despite sitting perfectly still. He sat with his chin propped against a hand, radiating a languid, dangerous air.

“When a man possesses that level of beauty, he truly transcends the bounds of sex,” Brick murmured, his eyes locked on the same figure. “I can state with absolute certainty that I have zero interest in men, yet whenever I look at Lord Kaiyan, I sometimes find myself thinking I could be persuaded to share a bed with someone like that.”

What kind of utter nonsense is he spewing now?

Even as the thought crossed his mind, Isaac found himself nodding in agreement. “Mm. I suppose that might be a possibility. ” Isaac often found his own gaze drifting toward the prince.

Being able to watch him openly and frequently was perhaps the only tangible benefit of serving as his bodyguard. He had never connected the observation to the act of intimacy, but… Sleeping with him… No.

That would be a catastrophe.

The anatomical implication of what lay between the prince’s legs was far too intimidating, and the agony it promised was far too vivid. Isaac briefly toyed with the mental image before shaking his head with sudden, violent intensity.

“It would be significantly better if he were more gentle. If he were, plenty of people would likely volunteer to warm his bed. He has that face and that pedigree, and he is widely admired,” Isaac spoke with a strange, lingering regret.

Brick tilted his head, his skepticism evident. “I’m not so sure. Isn’t the real obstacle his sheer size? Admiration alone cannot overcome that physical reality.”

“Still, if he took it slowly and wasn’t so brutal, someone could probably manage somehow…”

Isaac suddenly felt Brick’s gaze intensifying and snapped himself upright. “Not me!”

Brick’s look of deep suspicion did not waver. “I’ve heard rumors that you’ve even been practicing with sausages.”

“…”

Isaac shut his eyes, feeling the psychological anguish of a man coughing up blood. He wondered exactly what absurd myths were propagating and from which dark corners of the court they originated. No, he decided. He didn’t want to know. He absolutely did not want to know.

Brick watched Isaac press a hand to his brow and patted his shoulder with mock-consoling grace. Then, he spoke with jarring, grave sincerity. “I have no personal interest in such endeavors. However, as your friend and a colleague who has worked beside you for years, I would be willing to lend you mine, just once, in place of a sausage, if it would serve to protect your well-being.”

“Lend me what, you lunatic? I’d rather face the sausage!”

Isaac grabbed Brick by the collar before his survival instincts could intervene. The Grand Council Chamber fell into a deathly, sudden silence. By the time Isaac thought, Oh, hell, it was already too late. Every pair of eyes in the room swiveled toward the back.

Isaac froze, his hands still white-knuckled around Brick’s collar. Even the prince’s frigid blue eyes settled upon him. What am I supposed to do now?

The collective stare of the assembly was agonizing enough, but the expressionless blue eyes fixed upon him felt far more lethal. His heart hammered against his ribs, driven by the sheer impropriety of the topic he and Brick had been debating. Cold sweat prickled against his skin.

“You two in the back. What is the meaning of this insolence?”

The Chief Minister, who had been presiding over the session, raised his white, bushy eyebrows and bellowed. There goes my freedom. Disciplinary confinement is a certainty. Isaac shoved Brick away and straightened his uniform, frantically attempting to stave off the darkness encroaching on his vision.

Even then, he could hear the faint, venomous whispers rippling through the rows of the chamber.

“Is that a royal guard? No, a bodyguard?”

“Whose bodyguard would that be?”

“Ah, that man. You know, Lord Kaiyan’s…”

“Oh. That one…”

Isaac found that unfinished phrase deeply, profoundly troubling. Judging by the way the surrounding expressions curdled into immediate, condescending pity, he knew exactly what followed that one without needing to hear the words aloud. That, however, was not his most immediate concern.

Isaac could have accepted imprisonment or any other conventional form of punishment with a stoic heart. However, for a royal guard to disrupt a formal meeting of the Council of State with idle, undisciplined chatter was an unforgivable breach of protocol. It was a flagrant act of disrespect that severely tarnished the dignity of his superior. When that superior happened to be a man as formidable as Kaiyan, Isaac knew it would be a stroke of mercy if his head remained attached to his shoulders by the end of the day.

“Which unit do you belong to?”

The Chief Minister’s demand rang out, his fury raw and unconcealed. Isaac felt the prince’s gaze shift toward him, as cold, unchanged, and unreadable as a frozen lake. Sweat began to trickle down his spine—a cold, slick rivulet against his skin—yet he dared not remain silent beneath such an imperious interrogation. Every muscle in his body turned to stone, and he finally forced his lips to move.

“Blue Shadow Palace, serving directly under Lord Kaiyan…”

Isaac squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the worst. At that very instant, the trajectory of the day shattered.

THUD

A strangled, wet, choking sound erupted from the front of the chamber, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife. Every head whipped forward in unison. A heavy body struck the polished floorboards with a sickening, dull crash. A man from the front row had collapsed.

It was Lord Ruorden.

He clutched desperately at his own throat, gasping as if the very air in the room had turned to lead. His complexion had bled away, replaced by an alarming, bruised shade of blue.

“Lord Ruorden!”