You, My Devil - Chapter 4

“Did I startle you, Brother Fessis? I merely acted on instinct, lest the fruit from Constance soil your pristine attire.”

Yuri’s chilling smirk spread as he spoke, his dagger buried precisely in the apple he had aimed for.

Fessis’s hands trembled as he stared at Yuri. The ministers, sweating and swallowing nervously, wiped their foreheads with trembling hands.

Yuri, who had inherited Nike’s penchant for bloodshed, was showing his true colors once again. The ministers, reminded of his ruthless nature, felt a collective shiver run down their spines.

Even though Yuri had drawn his blade in front of the Emperor, no one among the ministers dared to rebuke him. Most were preoccupied with the thought that, should they earn his ire, they might one day find a blade lodged in their own necks.

“Have you lost your mind, Yuri, drawing a weapon in Nike’s presence?” Fessis snapped, his pale face twisting with anger. He turned abruptly to look at Nike, seated at the head of the table.

“Nike, grant me the authority to sever Yuri’s wrist and discipline this insolent younger brother!”

Fear rippled through the ministers. They all knew the Emperor wasn’t the kind of man who would hesitate to issue such an order. If it came to that, this very room might turn into a blood-soaked battlefield.

As always, Nike’s expression was unreadable, his long beard resting in his hand as he appeared deep in thought.

“Yuri, when is your coming-of-age ceremony?” the Emperor asked, breaking the silence with a neutral tone.

“In five days,” Yuri replied, his fiery red hair lowered in deference. The Emperor’s command came down cold and sharp.

“Kill.”

The words reverberated through the chamber. Nike did not specify the target, but there wasn’t a single person in the room who didn’t know what he meant.

Yuri dropped to his knees immediately.

“I will not fail your expectations, Nike.”

“The consequences of your actions today—drawing a blade before me—will be settled afterward,” Nike said, his voice as cold as ever.

Yuri lowered his forehead to the ground in formal submission.

As soon as the Emperor dismissed them, Fessis rose first and left the room. The ministers quickly followed, filing out in tense silence. Only after the last of them had gone did Yuri finally stand.

“All is as Nike and the gods who protect him will it to be,” came the Emperor’s low but powerful voice. He looked at Yuri, his expression impenetrable.

Yuri bowed his head deeply in response.

“All is as Nike and the gods who protect him will it to be.”

Maintaining proper decorum, Yuri left the Emperor’s chamber and stepped into the quiet corridor, his thoughts swirling.

The expression he’d glimpsed on Nike’s face—what had it been? He had never seen anything like it before. As a child, he had followed his father to countless battlefields, yet this expression was foreign to him. And yet, it felt oddly familiar.

It was the same look Yuri had seen in the eyes of countless enemies staring back at him as they faced death.

“No, that can’t be.”

He shook off the unsettling thought and quickened his pace.

Nike was the same cruel father who, before Yuri had even turned ten, had abandoned him in the desert for ten days with nothing but his bare hands. That Nike showing fear? Impossible.

The coming-of-age ceremony, where he would be tasked with killing Heina, was mere days away. There was much to prepare.

This time, Yuri vowed, he would show the Emperor his true capabilities. Gritting his teeth, he strode down the corridor with determined steps.

***

“The Glass Prince’s coming-of-age ceremony is tomorrow. What does that have to do with me?”

Heina, who had been staring blankly out the window, turned to the maid urging her to prepare and asked with a perplexed expression.

“There are no reasons behind His Highness’s commands. Even if there were, it’s not my place to ask,” the maid replied.

“So, you don’t know either. Why do I have to go through the trouble of ritual purification in this water-scarce land just to attend his coming-of-age ceremony?”

When Heina retorted in a cold, dry tone, the maid frowned and scolded her.

“Please watch your words. They could bring disaster upon you.”

Heina raised her head, letting out a faint, mocking laugh, and murmured,
“What more could happen than death?”

She believed that her survival was nothing more than Yuri’s whim, unaware that it was Fessis, not Yuri, who had conducted the rain ritual.
She had never forgotten that her life was hanging by a thread. It was only the constant tension that consumed her every day.

“Do you not even dream of leaving this room before you die?”

“…….”

The maid’s words seemed to strike a nerve. A wrinkle appeared between Heina’s delicate brows, and her small lips trembled. Seizing the opportunity, the maid decided to provoke her further.

“Tomorrow night, to celebrate Yuri’s coming of age, not only all the citizens of Granada but also the former Emperor and Empress of Constance will attend the ceremony.”

Heina turned her head sharply toward the maid, swallowing dryly and blinking.
“Is that… true?”

Mother, Father… I could see them? I could… meet my family?

It had already been a year since Heina, a prisoner of war, was brought to Granada after her homeland’s defeat. During that time, she hadn’t been given a single opportunity to meet her parents. Yuri, like the devil himself, frequently threatened her that if she ever took her own life, her parents would suffer the most brutal deaths imaginable.

Though she had doubted whether her parents were even alive, she clung to a fragile sliver of hope, unable to give up entirely. That faint hope had kept her alive despite everything.
And now…

“My… mother and father… will be there…?”

Heina’s trembling voice carried a faint quiver of tears as she repeated her question, her eyes quickly filling with a deep longing. Elise, the maid, quietly nodded toward Heina, who was unable to hide her emotions.

Over the past year, Elise had watched Heina closely. Initially, Heina’s aloof and prickly demeanor had irked her. But gradually, Elise found herself feeling pity for the young woman, who was about the age of her own daughter. The turning point had come after a particular incident—when Heina caused a commotion by cutting her hair with the shards of a broken teacup.

Yuri’s fury in response had been terrifying. If Heina had inflicted any real harm on herself, Elise knew the young maid serving Heina at the time would have paid with her life at Yuri’s hands.

From the day Elise noticed the worry in Heina’s gaze as she discreetly inquired about the maid who had been banished from the palace, her feelings toward Heina began to soften.

“…It is certain that they will attend,” Elise confirmed.

A faint sense of guilt stirred in a corner of her heart. According to rumors whispered among the palace maids, tomorrow night would be Heina’s final night—her funeral in all but name.

Oblivious to her grim fate, Heina could barely contain her emotions at the thought of meeting her parents. Her palms damp with sweat, she repeatedly clenched and unclenched her clothes, staring intently at Elise with her large, silent green eyes. Her gaze seemed to plead desperately:

Can I really meet my family?

“Please go now, before the bathwater cools.”

Unable to endure Heina’s piercing gaze any longer, Elise lowered her head. Heina immediately stood, not hesitating for a moment. Without protest, she followed Elise, her demeanor unusually subdued. Watching Heina, Elise felt a bitter taste in her mouth.

Heina’s legs trembled as she walked after the maid. It was the first time since being brought to Nike that she had left her room, but she was too overwhelmed with excitement to pay it much mind.

I’ll be able to see my mother and father.

Her knees felt weak as she carefully took each step. The Granada Palace, which she had barely taken in during her initial, disoriented arrival, was now a shadowy labyrinth. Despite the late hour, the darkness was so suffocating it seemed impossible to see even a step ahead.

Elise moved silently, her footsteps soundless as her robe faintly rustled with each movement. The soft swish of fabric was the only sound in the still air. Heina clung tightly to Elise’s robe, fearful of losing her way.

They passed countless rooms along a lengthy corridor before arriving at the door to a dimly lit chamber. The wooden door looked as if it led to a room where light barely reached.

“Please go inside and wait. I will assist you with your bath shortly,” Elise said.

“…I’d like to bathe alone,” Heina murmured hesitantly.

Elise studied her for a moment but didn’t insist.

“As you wish.”

Elise opened the door, allowing Heina to enter the dark room before silently closing it behind her. The chamber was illuminated only by the faint glow of a few scented candles, their light flickering weakly in the dim interior.

In the center of the small room was a circular stone tub, its edges worn smooth over time. Steam rose from the warm water, swirling lazily in the air.

Though it couldn’t compare to the grand baths of Constance, where bathing culture had flourished, the mere sight of the tub nearly brought tears to Heina’s eyes. After being confined to her room for so long, forced to make do with scant amounts of water, this felt like a luxury beyond measure.

A faint herbal scent, reminiscent of burning medicinal plants, filled the room. It made her feel slightly lightheaded, but she paid it no mind. Slowly, Heina moved her hands.

She untied the sash at her waist, letting her white toga slip to the floor. The sheer garments of Nike had done little to protect her modesty, and now they pooled at her feet. Carefully, she dipped her toes into the tub before easing her entire body into the warm water.

Splash.

The soothing warmth enveloped her, and she felt her tense muscles relax for the first time in ages. The sharp scent of the candles lingered, but it was tolerable—she was used to similar scents from her daily tea. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head lightly against the stone edge of the tub.

Click.

The sound of the door latch turning broke the silence.

The door creaked open, and a faint shaft of light spilled into the dimly lit bathhouse from outside. It seemed the maid couldn’t leave Heina unattended and had decided to assist her after all.

With a sigh, Heina raised her head slightly from where it rested against the edge of the tub.
“I don’t nee—”

Before she could finish, her words caught in her throat. The first thing she saw was a head of hair—a fiery red so familiar it sent a chill down her spine. Her eyes widened in shock. She hadn’t seen many Nikeans during her captivity, but as far as she knew, only one person among them had such red hair.

Her breath hitched, and without thinking, Heina plunged her entire body under the bathwater, submerging herself completely. Instinct took over. The world around her became silent, save for the deafening sound of her heartbeat thundering in her chest.

One, two, three, four, soon five, and then six. Hide well before I count to ten. Seven, eight…

She didn’t know how long she had been holding her breath. The first song was almost over, and the second was beginning in her mind. With her eyes tightly shut, Heina could almost imagine hearing Arzen’s distant voice in her ears.

“Heina, haha, I can see you behind the tree.”

“This isn’t fair! No matter where I hide, you always find me. But when you hide, I can never find you!”

She remembered him laughing, his voice warm and light, as he placed a garland of flowers on her head. His smile had been so breathtaking it left her unable to breathe.

“Well, that’s why I’m always the seeker, Princess Heina. No matter where you hide, I’ll always find you.”

From the moment she first met him at twelve years old, when he was eighteen, she had fallen for him. In all her life at Constance Castle, she had never met anyone who smiled as kindly as Arzen.

“Wow! Then if I ever get lost in the castle, you’ll come find me, right?”

She had believed they would be together forever. She was certain their future was set in stone—that they would live happily ever after in Constance, blessed by everyone.

“Of course, Heina. I’ll always be by your side—though you’ll probably never get lost in the first place.”

His voice was fading, slipping away like a forgotten dream.

As Heina’s lungs began to burn, her surroundings shifted. The water around her surged violently, sloshing against the edges of the tub. It was unmistakable—Yuri had entered the bath.

Panicking, Heina wrapped her arms tightly around herself, curling into a smaller ball beneath the surface. She desperately sank deeper, hoping the suffocating darkness of the Granada Palace would conceal her.

Her trembling body pressed against the cool bottom of the tub as she clung to her last shred of courage, praying she wouldn’t be discovered.

‘Arzen… please, help me….’

Her breath was reaching its absolute limit, but she couldn’t bring herself to lift her head above the water. Time stretched painfully, and even after several moments passed, the other person didn’t move.

‘…Did he not see me?’

Heina cautiously opened her eyes underwater. Her vision was blurry, but as soon as she did, her pupils dilated in terror.

Right in front of her, Yuri’s face hovered, a devilish smile plastered across it.

She had never been good at hiding, not even as a child.

“……!”