Chapter 68

Isaac blinked, his vision swimming. Even after pulling himself into a sitting position, he remained too dazed to fully grasp that he was truly conscious. He scanned the barren, unfamiliar room, which contained almost no furniture, and only slowly managed to wonder, Where am I…? He studied the windowless walls as a fresh, disorienting thought surfaced. What time is it…?

Finally, his gaze landed on three spacious birdcages hanging in a row. Each contained a profoundly disgruntled cat, and he mused, Whoever did that, well done.

His head remained shrouded in a thick, sluggish fog until the rhythmic clink of metal against floorboards cut through the silence. He froze, his eyes locking onto the heavy iron shackle secured around his ankle.

“…What the hell is this?”

Isaac shook his foot, sending the chain clattering sharply against the wood. From the shadows beside him came an irritated click of a tongue.

“What do you think it is? Shackles,” a voice muttered. “We put them on you in case you tried to run.”

Isaac turned with a vacant, “Huh?” A few paces away, Brick stood guard beside a solid wooden door, watching him with a deep, worried crease between his brows.

“What in the world did you do?” Brick asked, his tone tight. “If you run, my head rolls right alongside yours.”

Brick clicked his tongue again, but before Isaac could press him for details, reason and memory began to bleed back into his mind. The last thing he recalled was the hideous, rasping sensation of something grinding against his heart, like sandpaper scraping over raw flesh.

He could not recall Prince Kaiyan’s exact words, but their meaning had been clear enough. If you survive this, just wait.

And then… “Blue Shadow Palace…”

Isaac’s heart plummeted. He turned sharply toward Brick, his face tightening instantly. Brick said nothing at first, but as Isaac watched the man’s heavy features stiffen, his own mouth twitched.

“The joint funeral was yesterday,” Brick said quietly.

Isaac stared at him, then lowered his gaze. “I see.” He murmured only those two words, spending a long while staring down at his own hands before finally asking, “How many survived?”

Brick shook his head. “Other than the people who were off duty that day? No one. Only Lord Kaiyan and you.”

Isaac continued to stare at his hands, finally releasing a ragged, silent breath. When he looked up, Brick was watching him intently. The man surely had countless questions for the sole guard who had survived the carnage, yet he asked none of them. He simply stood there, providing the answers a newly awakened man would naturally crave.

Isaac had been unconscious for three full days, and naturally, the palace had erupted into absolute chaos. Every person working at the prince’s residence on the night of the full moon had been slaughtered. Those on duty that night accounted for nearly a quarter of the Blue Shadow Palace’s total staff. The immediate cause had been identified that very night: magic fueled by a power far beyond any human capacity.

It was the work of a witch. Opinions differed over which witch had committed the massacre and why, but the prevailing suspicion linked it to the recent death of the Guildmaster. The sheer number of dead was horrifying, but the fact that such a catastrophe had occurred within the royal palace, in the very heart of the capital, made the shock even more profound.

Some argued that the palace had suffered far too many strange incidents of late and demanded a grand rite of purification. Others insisted that a witch daring to inflict such carnage upon the royal palace proved that hidden witches had to be rooted out and executed with renewed, ruthless vigor.

From the court magicians to the ordinary administrative clerks, not a single department within the palace had escaped the uproar. Amidst that tempest of confusion, only one person had remained perfectly still.

“Is Lord Kaiyan all right?” Isaac asked.

Brick looked at him as though the question itself were absurd. “Does he look like someone who wouldn’t be all right? Can you even imagine him not being all right?”

Isaac closed his mouth. It was true; even as he asked, he had assumed as much. I can’t even begin to imagine what a compromised or unwell Prince Kaiyan might look like.

Brick frowned and clicked his tongue. “People are even more afraid of him now. Everyone who worked in his palace died like that, yet at the funeral he didn’t shed a single tear. His expression didn’t change once.”

“We all knew what sort of man he was, but still… he doesn’t feel human.” Brick’s voice dropped, laden with unease. “He seems like something entirely different from the rest of us. Honestly, I’m terrified of him. Truly.”

“…I suppose you would be.” Even though none of it was his fault, Isaac swallowed the rest of his words. The wall separating that man from everyone else had grown thicker, more impenetrable than ever. Kaiyan himself would likely never care.

“I’m glad you survived, at least. When you wouldn’t wake up, we started worrying that something might happen to you too.” Brick paused, his gaze shifting. “Thanks for living, you bastard.”

He tossed the words out with studied carelessness, but the sincerity beneath them reached Isaac without obstruction. A faint, tired laugh escaped him.

Moments like this were dangerous. Even while living at the periphery of human society, isolated from everyone around him, Isaac occasionally found scraps of warmth scattered in his path. He would pick them up one by one and feel, for a while, as though his heart had finally been fed. Yet at the same time, a dull ache settled heavily inside him. Even someone inhuman like me can receive something like this now and then, but he never can.

The thought of the prince came unbidden as Brick spoke again. “Still, how did you survive that without a single injury? You don’t have so much as a scratch. Yet you stayed unconscious for three whole days, so your comrades were worried sick.”

“Huh?” Now that he mentioned it… Isaac blinked and lowered his eyes. He tugged open the front of his clothes and found only clean, unbroken skin over his chest.

The sword had undeniably pierced his heart. Then the memory returned: just before he lost consciousness, he had felt that abrasive scraping inside him, as though someone were scouring his soul with sandpaper. It had hurt so intensely that even while fading into darkness, he had been acutely aware of the agony.

Isaac turned his head. The cages he had glimpsed when he first woke came into view again. Between the wooden door and the bed, three birdcages hung from the ceiling in a neat row, one cat seated inside each. All three stared at Isaac with faces steeped in misery. The instant their eyes met his, they began to wail.

Meow!

Their plaintive cries brimmed with outrage and wounded dignity. Upon closer inspection, the cages were forged of silver. Judging by how meekly those creatures remained trapped inside, the metal had almost certainly been consecrated.

“Why are those three hanging up there?” Isaac asked.

Brick shrugged. “Because Lord Kaiyan ordered it. Hey, don’t touch them. Don’t touch anything. He said if even one of those beasts escapes, he’ll take my head along with yours.”

Isaac, who had just started to rise and move toward the hanging cages, suddenly stopped. Even if he had been able to continue, the heavy chain attached to his ankle was too short to let him take more than a few steps from the bedside. He was just beginning to question why anyone would bother imprisoning such creatures when a forgotten truth struck him like lightning.

Right. That was right. Now that I think about it…

Isaac’s heart lurched. At that exact moment, the wooden door swung open. The person who entered was the very man Isaac had just recalled. It was the prince.

Kaiyan passed Brick without a shred of acknowledgment, but when he caught sight of Isaac sitting upright, his stride slowed for the barest instant. He continued to a nearby chair, sat, and regarded Isaac in a heavy, expectant silence.

Isaac looked back at him, or rather, he flicked his eyes toward the prince before snapping them back to the edge of his bed, stole another glance at the man, and dropped his gaze to the footboard again. He continued this furtive cycle for some time.

Kaiyan watched him closely before finally turning to Brick. “Wait outside.”

“Pardon? …Ah. Yes, Your Highness.” Brick looked briefly startled, but he bowed without a single word of protest and exited the room. Through the narrowing gap in the door, his expression clearly conveyed a desperate message: I don’t know what this is about, but survive somehow, my friend.

Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me alone with that man.

Isaac’s silent plea proved utterly useless. The door clicked shut, leaving only the prince, Isaac, and three cages containing three dangling, disgruntled cats.

Silence thickened in the room. Only after Isaac had spent an agonizing duration alternating nervous glances between the bedclothes and the prince did Kaiyan finally speak, his voice cutting through the weight of his own unwavering stare.

“Well?” Kaiyan asked, his tone razor-sharp. “How does it feel, witch-child?”