THE TUTOR
THIRTEEN YEARS earlier…
“P-please stop! Please stop, please stop, please stop… Aaaaah!”
Sobs and laughter filled the room. A young boy cackled with delight as he brought a whip down. Another child cried out in pain, his screams echoing off the dungeon walls.
“Ha ha ha! What an idiot! You really think I’m gonna stop?! C’mon, now! If you really hate it…”
Snap! Crack! The slap of the whip rang out. The thing tied up in chains, somewhat resembling a human, screamed and begged for mercy with each lash. The boy kicked him in his empty stomach, howling with laughter when his victim vomited. As the boy’s tutor, I stood by in silence.
“Tell me! Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me! If you can’t do it, then get on the floor and beg! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
The boy’s high-pitched cackling penetrated every corner of the dungeon. This was his daily routine. He enjoyed our “lessons,” whipping and kicking his slaves until they ran out of tears. It cemented his position in everyone’s minds.
“Did I say you could lift your head? Answer me! I’ll kill you if you defy me!”
I quietly exited the cell while my charge indulged in his task. The boy’s father would set aside his work to observe his son’s lessons and note his progress soon.
I don’t think he has any real talents.
I kept that thought to myself. Failing to notice I’d left the cell, the boy continued to amuse himself, completely lost in the act of torturing his victim. He’d already killed a number of slaves before managing to break them, but anyone could kill a person in chains. There was no point to the torture if he couldn’t crack their minds.
The boy was the emperor’s firstborn son out of thirteen children, but no one expected great things from the crown prince. Many of the emperor’s children had been born around the same time; he just happened to be first. Everyone in the imperial family possessed sadistic and savage personalities, so that alone wasn’t enough to warrant the throne. The slightly younger princes were much more well rounded too. I sighed, but the death throes of the victim in the cell instantly drowned out the sound.
I flinched as the final screams spiked, then glanced back into the cell—not making an effort to intervene. Had the boy done it again? My shoulders slumped. I addressed him with exasperation.
“Prince Adam…if you overdo it, this one will die before you can break him.”
ADAM
“OH, LOOK AT THAT. They’re finally starting to leave. God, they’re all so slow.”
I chuckled at the window as I watched the carriages pull away from the castle. I stretched, pleased that I could blend in with them and return to Rajah soon.
“Why do they care so much about some stupid princess? It’s not like they don’t have a spare one sitting around. What a bunch of idiots.”
I opened one last bottle of wine. I wanted to enjoy another glass before the room got all crowded, when the servants came to pack up on my orders.
“I can’t wait to come back. I’ll make it three months…no, half a year from now. Or will she already be dead by then?”
I addressed the question to the person who had attended the party with me. He didn’t respond, yet my smile grew. I sipped my wine, gazing at the helpless knights and guards standing around and watching the carriages leave.
Knock, knock.
I cocked my head at the sound. I hadn’t called my servants inside yet. Was someone from Freesia here to shoo me out of the castle? Or had the knights and guards in the hallway overheard me talking to myself?
Whatever the case, I scrunched up my face in irritation and called out to the person at the door. When they responded, they didn’t sound like one of my subordinates—but the voice was strangely familiar.
“Forgive the disturbance, Prince Adam. This is Gilbert Butler, the prime minister of Freesia.”
Gilbert. I remembered that name. He was the meddlesome prime minister I’d met one year earlier.
“Do you have a moment to speak?” he asked.
Sweeping a glance around the room, I calmly told him I did. But first, I ordered the person who’d attended the party with me to cover up or brush away anything that would shock our visitor. Then I sat back against the sofa and told the guards to open the door, revealing the man with the light blue hair and long, narrow eyes.
And he’d brought someone with him.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Highness. I am Stale Royal Ivy, firstborn prince of Freesia.”
Words died on my tongue. I smiled faintly, but my eyes narrowed. What was the firstborn prince doing here? While he and the prime minister were smiling, their polite behavior only put me on higher alert. I offered a formal greeting, my own smile threatening to falter. The prime minister and prince always made me uneasy in a way that the Freesian queen never did, though I couldn’t pinpoint why.
“Considering you’re the representative of a nation that has established peace with ours, we’ve come to you with a request,” Prince Stale said with a gracious bow.
When next he spoke, it sounded like anything but a request.
“May we ask that you remain in the castle?” he asked, voice so sharp and low that it pierced me like a dagger. “We’d like to discuss the events of last night with you.”
For a brief moment, the intensity of Stale’s aura overwhelmed me, leaving me both exhilarated and trembling with rage. I smiled politely yet unpleasantly, careful to avoid further suspicion.
“Why don’t we move somewhere else?” I suggested, regretting that I hadn’t ordered my servants to pack up and get us home much sooner.
How the hell did they trace it back to me?
With that question buzzing in my mind, I fought back the urge to kill every last person in this room.