You, My Devil - Chapter 26

Nadine, who had subtly encouraged Fessis to have Yuri killed, was now concerned that the blame might somehow fall on him. On the other hand, Fessis, convinced that the emperor himself had sent the soldiers, was thrown into confusion, unable to discern Nike’s intentions in bringing up the subject himself.

“Who was it? Who ordered Yuri to be killed?”

Fessis slowly raised his head to meet Nike’s gaze. His father’s piercing dark eyes, tinged with a faint blue hue, seemed to gleam as they bore into him.

Fessis had always been the most intelligent and resourceful of the emperor’s four sons, and Nike knew that if anyone were fit to succeed him as the next emperor, it was Fessis. However, Nike couldn’t help but worry whether his son’s cleverness would eventually lead to his own downfall.

“Well, Your Majesty, I’m curious about that myself,” Fessis replied coolly, his tone laced with subtle mockery. “Whoever it was that ordered our youngest, reckless brother to be killed must be quite bold. Nadine, brother, surely it wasn’t you?”

Without so much as glancing at Nadine, Fessis cast a cold sideways look in his direction.

Nadine, who had been standing beside him, let out a light, boisterous laugh.
“Haha, Fessis…”

His soft, downturned eyes crinkled as he chuckled, but after a long moment, the humor vanished from his face. Fixing Fessis with a serious stare, Nadine responded, his voice stripped of all levity.

“Of course, wasn’t it you?”

It was no secret that Fessis, the second prince, had always been Yuri’s most prominent adversary. If anyone in the palace were asked who resented Yuri the most, all would undoubtedly point to Fessis.

After the incidents surrounding the drought sacrifice and Yuri’s coming-of-age ceremony, Fessis’s disdain for his younger brother had only grown more apparent. It wasn’t just palace gossip—everyone in Nike, from courtiers to commoners, knew of Fessis’s animosity toward Yuri.

“Of course not,” Fessis replied with icy calm. “Seeing Yuri’s reckless antics is nothing new to me. Why would I bother?”

Even if I wanted to kill him, I was too late to the game, wasn’t I, dear brother Nadine? Fessis thought to himself, maintaining an air of composure.

His cold expression didn’t falter. He was confident that his foolish brother, always ensnared by women and oblivious to the larger picture, had no understanding of the true dynamics at play.

“If it wasn’t you, and it wasn’t me,” Nadine said, tilting his head slightly, “then who, pray tell, could it have been, Fessis?”

At Nadine’s question, Fessis let a faint smile curl his lips. As he ran a hand through his sleek black hair, the shimmering strands slipped through his slender fingers like silk.

His deep, unfathomable black eyes narrowed slightly, a subtle but deliberate movement. Then, in a voice low yet chilling, Fessis spoke:

“Was it not… you, Father?”

* * *

Out of breath from running, Yuri arrived in front of Heina’s chambers and immediately questioned the guards stationed there.

“The slave—where is she?”

“Yes, my lord. The maids stayed until they confirmed she was asleep before leaving. It seems she was so exhausted from the journey that she fell asleep as soon as she drank the medicine. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice the commotion outside.”

“Good.”

Yuri finally wiped the sweat dripping from his pale forehead.

“From tomorrow onward, double the guards inside and outside the palace. Especially around the slave—monitor her every move and thoroughly investigate everyone who makes contact with her. Understand?”

“As you command.”

The guard bowed deeply.

“Where’s Linus now?”

As soon as Yuri asked, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. Linus, an unmistakably large man, came rushing up the stairs from the first floor, his breathing labored.

He had been moments away from falling asleep after the banquet when the incident occurred, leaving him bewildered and unsettled. Such an intrusion had not happened once in the year Yuri had been absent.

The idea that a mere slave from a vassal state would dare to infiltrate the heart of Nike’s military command—and on the very day of Yuri’s arrival—was unthinkable.

Linus was more enraged and humiliated by the timing than by the breach itself. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he bowed his head low.

“Lord Yuri, I deeply apologize. I have no excuse.”

“It’s not your fault. The intruder knew the layout of the palace better than anyone. No matter who was guarding, they would have broken through.”

“Even so, I am ashamed.”

“There’s no need for apologies. Instead, scour all of Lucina. Find a man about six and a half feet tall, with golden hair and a wound on his shoulder.”

“Lord Yuri, your face… you’re injured.”

“It’s nothing. In fact, I don’t dislike this feeling—it’s been a while since my blood truly boiled.”

Yuri wiped the blood from his wounded lips with the back of his hand, a chilling smile spreading across his face. The crimson stain stood out starkly against his pale skin.

It had been a long time since Yuri had seen his own blood. It stirred something primal within him—a violent instinct he had been born with. His heart pounded as if it might burst, adrenaline pumping fury through his veins.

A twisted grin formed on Yuri’s blood-red lips.

“Whoever orchestrated such a grand welcoming ceremony for me deserves a fitting reward, wouldn’t you agree? Find him. I’ll tear him apart limb by limb.”

“As you command.”

Leaving Linus kneeling behind him, Yuri turned abruptly. Linus bit his lip as he noticed the blood dripping from Yuri’s injured knee.

As always, Yuri would likely stitch the torn wound himself. Linus couldn’t help but think of Yuri’s past—how he had always lived suspicious of even the palace doctors, unsure if they were bribed to kill him.

Linus remained silent, turning away without saying a word.

“Open the door,” Yuri ordered.

The guards carefully opened the door to Heina’s chambers. Stepping inside, Yuri cast one last command over his shoulder.

“Until I call for you in the morning, no one is to disturb me.”

The heavy wooden door closed without a sound. The room fell into complete silence, the commotion outside feeling almost surreal in contrast. A single candle flickered in the dark, casting a dim glow across the room.

Yuri crossed the room without a sound, his steps noiseless on the polished floor. He slumped into the chair beside the bed, his gaze fixed on Heina, who was deeply asleep, her quiet breathing filling the stillness.

The sleeping woman didn’t stir. Beneath the soft blanket, her freshly bandaged feet peeked out.

“You look comfortable,” Yuri muttered as he stared at her.

Heina was lying on her side, facing him. Her small shoulders rose and fell with each gentle breath. The faint scent of lavender wafted through the room from a burning herbal candle meant to aid sleep.

Even without the candle, her face looked more serene than Yuri had ever seen. It seemed the first night back in her homeland had brought her a rare sense of peace.

“They want you,” Yuri whispered, his voice low as the flickering candlelight cast shifting shadows across his pale face. “To the point that they dared show themselves in front of me. Like moths diving into flames, knowing they’ll die—utterly foolish.”

He glanced at her small figure curled beneath the blanket. Her golden hair spilled over her face, framing it as she shifted slightly in her sleep.

Yuri rose from the chair, seemingly forgetting about the wound on his leg. Blood dripped from the gash left by the shattered glass, staining the floor with dark red streaks as he moved closer to her bed.

With a crooked smile, he reached for the blanket and gently pulled it aside, revealing her delicate form. Heina’s body moved slightly, perhaps sensing the disturbance. Yuri licked his dry lower lip as he looked down at her.

“Sorry, but I have no intention of just sitting back and watching,” he murmured.

Sliding onto the bed, Yuri lay down facing her, matching her position. The sedative she’d been given ensured she remained in a deep sleep, completely unaware of his presence. Yuri wrapped his arms tightly around her small body, pulling her close.

“Mmh…”

Heina shifted uncomfortably, as if his embrace was suffocating, but Yuri’s arms held her firmly in place. He brought his lips close to her ear and whispered,

“Remember this: I never give back anything I’ve taken.”

After whispering those chilling words, he buried his face against her chest. The soft warmth of her body surrounded him, though it was different from the comforting embrace he’d once felt as a child in Laura’s arms.

Breathing deeply, he took in her scent.

For some reason, seeing her made his heart race—just like the first time he’d gone hunting on horseback. It was the same excitement he’d felt upon seeing the pitiful gaze of the deer that stared back at him, its body pierced by his arrow.

That overwhelming desire to conquer was what had kept Yuri from killing her.

Every time she looked at him, her eyes filled with both the desperation to survive and unbridled hatred, his blood boiled. It made him feel alive.

He wanted to capture her, to trap her in his arms forever. He never tired of the way her tear-filled eyes glared at him with burning resentment. He could spend his entire life watching that gaze.

“Anyone who dares touch what’s mine—I’ll cut their throat,” Yuri muttered darkly.

But Heina didn’t stir, lost in the depths of sleep, a faint smile gracing her lips. Whatever dream she was having must have been pleasant. Perhaps tomorrow morning, when she awoke to find herself in his arms, she would once again wear that look of utter despair—like the world had ended.

Yuri tightened his grip on her small frame.

‘Arzen…’

Heina, dreaming of Arzen holding her close, smiled blissfully in her sleep. Meanwhile, Yuri, his arms wrapped possessively around her, closed his eyes.

It had been a long, exhausting day.

Thus, the first night in Constance passed quietly, each of them lost in their own thoughts and dreams.

* * *

The imperial palace of Nike’s capital, Granada.

“Fessis, are you out of your mind?”

Nadine could not hide his astonishment as he scolded Fessis for his audacious words. Fessis had just directly insulted the emperor. After spending so much time holed up in the dimly lit underground alchemy room without a single ray of sunlight, it seemed natural that his thoughts might become muddled—or perhaps he had finally gone mad and lost all sense of fear.

“How dare you speak to His Majesty, the Emperor, in such a manner, Fessis? What is this nonsense? Do you think that just because Yuri, the unruly foal, has left the nation, you can take his place now?”

“Enough,” a voice commanded.

“But, Nike…”

“I won’t repeat myself, Nadine,” the emperor warned.

Nadine’s face twisted into an expression of mock regret as he fell silent.

Fessis had always been like a tongue inside Nike’s mouth—obedient, careful, and loyal. And yet here he was, openly provoking the absolute authority of Emperor Nike himself.

It was clear Fessis truly believed that it was Nike who had ordered the soldiers to attack Yuri.

This is getting interesting, Nadine thought, suppressing the laughter that threatened to escape him. He bit down on his lip to maintain a serious expression.

The truth was, it had been Nadine who orchestrated the ambush against Yuri on his way to Constance. By provoking Fessis with mentions of his mother, the empress, Nadine had provided him with a motive to attack Yuri and then preemptively moved his own soldiers to carry out the plan.

But the plan had failed spectacularly. Not only had Yuri escaped with his life, but Nadine had also failed to reclaim Heina, the Constance slave that Yuri had taken—and later discarded—into his possession.

Nadine’s initial plan had been to kill Yuri and pin the crime on Fessis. But that, too, had crumbled. In the aftermath, Nadine had spent days wallowing in frustration, smashing a wine goblet against the wall to vent his rage.

Now, witnessing Fessis unexpectedly provoke the emperor was an intriguing development, to say the least.

“Fessis, you’ve grown bold,” Nike remarked, slowly stroking his beard as he gazed at his second son.

For reasons unknown, Fessis was behaving as though he were determined to earn his father’s wrath.

Nike found it surprising. Fessis, who had long been meticulously preparing for the throne by carefully managing the court officials and loyally supporting the emperor, had now suddenly shifted his behavior.

“Nike, Your Majesty, I still have not received an answer to my question,” Fessis said, lifting his head to meet the emperor’s gaze directly.

Two pairs of sharp eyes, strikingly similar in their piercing intensity, studied each other.