Chapter 15.
He’s the Villain, but Also a Bunny (10)
Ilena suddenly felt a chill run down her spine, as if snow had fallen in midsummer.
She had been talking to Regulus, but the strange, eerie energy that enveloped her made her whip her head around in alarm.
‘…A black panther?’
For a moment, she had the illusion of a black panther slinking toward her through a dense jungle.
The man walking toward her, his black silk robes embroidered with gold trailing behind him, had such an overwhelming presence.
The beautiful dark eyes of the Black King gleamed coldly, like those of a predator eyeing its prey.
Gulp.
Until now, the only person who had ever made her feel this kind of pressure was her grandfather.
And yet this man’s charisma overwhelmed even her.
‘What on earth is he planning to do to me that he’s already wearing that expression?’
As Ilena stared at him, tense and wary, the Black King slowly opened his mouth.
“What kind of insane situation is this?”
He looked even colder than usual.
Even in that moment, Ilena found herself having an odd, irrelevant thought.
Maybe Andre had a point when he said dressing up for a play was a tradition.
Because the Black King himself was dressed more extravagantly than usual.
Wearing a silk robe embroidered in gold, he looked more like the infamous “Black Panther of the Desert” than ever before.
“We greet Your Highness.”
Andre and Regulus, who stood behind Ilena, quickly bowed.
‘Ah, so that’s what I’m supposed to do.’
Ilena picked up on the cue and gave a slight bow as well.
“We greet Your Highness.”
“Ah, yes. …But didn’t I just ask a question?”
The king tilted his head lazily as he spoke.
“What kind of situation is this?”
What kind of situation? Ilena tilted her head in confusion.
The smile she had been wearing for socializing faded back into a neutral expression.
Somehow, the Black King’s expression grew even more intimidating as he looked down at her.
“We were about to enter the theater… since you invited us.”
“Not that.”
‘But that’s literally all that was happening. What else was I doing?’
She’d been greeting Regulus. Was that what he meant?
Still confused, Ilena replied, “…We were just socializing before entering the theater?”
“Yes, that.”
‘Ah, is he worried I might conspire with other nobles? So it’ll be a hassle for him later if he has to torture me or something?’
Ilena waited for what he would say next.
But the Black King only furrowed his brow deeper, looking increasingly displeased without saying a word.
Unable to take it anymore, she asked, “What about it?”
“What about it?” he growled, radiating terrifying pressure. “That—”
‘That… yeah, what about it?’
For a moment, a flicker of confusion crossed his face.
It was as if someone had doused the fire in his chest with cold water, snapping him back to his senses.
In other words, he hadn’t been in his right mind just a moment ago.
It was like those moments during battle when reason flew out the window.
‘She was just saying hello. So why the hell did I get so mad?’
“…Your Highness?”
Andre cautiously spoke up, clearly reading the atmosphere.
Some of the nobles in the theater had begun to glance their way.
Damn. He couldn’t show weakness here. Too many eyes were watching—noble eyes, at that.
The Black King snapped his gaze back with a cold voice.
“The play is about to begin. I was asking why you’re still out here instead of going in.”
‘That’s what this is about?’
Ilena looked at him, partly exasperated.
‘He really is the villain of this story. That temper of his… I’d better stay on guard.’
Even if he had his soft moments, letting your guard down in front of a wild animal was asking for trouble.
One moment he seemed calm, the next—he could sink his teeth into your neck.
“I was just about to go in. Since you did invite us to the play, remember?”
Her tone clearly said, What’s your angle this time?
It was unmistakably provocative.
“…You’ll see soon enough.”
The Black King replied coldly and led her into the theater.
The structure of the theater was just as she remembered.
There was a high stage and an orchestra pit below.
Strong lights lit the stage, but the audience seating was dimly lit.
As Ilena stumbled slightly—her night vision wasn’t the best—a thick arm immediately wrapped around her waist.
His reaction speed was astonishing.
‘Has he been watching me?’
“…Your seat is beside mine. It’s the best seat to enjoy the performance.”
He said it with unexpectedly gentle eyes and voice.
‘What the hell’s with this guy now?’
A moment ago, he looked like he wanted to kill someone, and now this?
Ilena clicked her tongue and sat in the VIP box where he guided her.
The play was quite sophisticated.
It told the founding myth of the Kingdom of Rihue.
The first king of Rihue received a revelation from the god Aufus, crossed the sea, defeated terrible monsters that lived on an island, and established the kingdom.
‘Basically, this is their version of the Dangun myth.’
It was full of patriotic, nationalistic sentiments meant to inspire pride in the audience.
In short, it was a terribly boring propaganda play.
‘So they have nationalist plays here too. Well, it is a royal production, so I guess it’s expected.’
Ilena stifled a yawn.
She hadn’t even been able to take a nap today due to preparations, and the sleepiness was hitting hard.
Don’t fall asleep.
She forced her eyes open and glanced at the Black King beside her.
He was completely immersed in the performance.
“Oh, dear gods…! Please forgive my sins! Do not punish my people again with fire!”
“Because of your original sin, misfortune will surely befall this island. But I pity you. I will send a savior when the time comes…”
He stared at the stage, totally transfixed—like a child watching TV.
‘A child? Come on, get a grip.’
Ilena gave a quiet snort at her own ridiculous thought.
This man had the face of a Latin heartthrob and the body of a massive predator. And yet here she was, comparing him to a child.
What’s wrong with me…
As she spaced out, the play steadily marched toward its climax.
The protagonist, who defied the gods and ate the forbidden fruit of Mount Aufus, now begged for forgiveness through forty days of weeping and prayer.
‘We must be nearing the end.’
Ilena fought another yawn and muttered inwardly.
She just wanted it to be over.
She wanted to go wash up and lie down.
Maybe she’d ask Andre for warm milk—with honey.
Then it happened.
A sorrowful tune suddenly filled the stage.
‘Wait, what? They’re going to end it like this? At this point in the plot?’
Ilena narrowed her eyes with a sense of foreboding and looked back at the stage.
Of course.
“Mother! I… it’s all my fault! I was wrong!”
The orchestra launched into a tearjerking crescendo.
As if determined to wring tears from the audience.
‘Why is there melodrama now?’
Ilena stared at the stage, appalled.
A tearjerker right before the ending? This was classic K-movie structure.
“No, no, Jake. It’s all your poor mother’s fault.”
“Motherrrr!”
“So please… at least you live happily!”
‘So this is why he dragged me here to watch this play.’
Ilena muttered dryly to herself.
She had braced herself, thinking he had some emotional manipulation planned—but this was just kind of cute and lame.
She hadn’t even cried when her grandfather died. There was no way this overwrought drama would move her.
‘And this kind of emotional twist makes no sense in the plot.’
Even without her depression, Ilena was a logical and rational person who valued facts over feelings.
If someone read her a poetic line like, “I saw the moon and called you,” she’d be the type to say, “Please don’t call me over something like that.”
She could never understand the kind of people who cried at dramas.
When she looked to the side, the Black King had his arms crossed, frowning deeply.
‘Of course. He must be thinking the same. Who’d cry over this mess?’
“…Excuse me.”
Suddenly, with a scowl, he stood up and stormed out of the theater.
His expression looked like he was ready to kill someone.
‘Wait. Is he going to punish the play’s staff? For putting on this kind of performance?’
She remembered how mercilessly he had once slapped a soldier.
Just one blow from him would probably be enough to kill an ordinary person.
‘Maybe I should’ve at least pretended to be moved. All that effort, and I just sat here with a blank face.’
Ilena anxiously watched his broad back disappear down the aisle.
Meanwhile…
“Uwaaaaaahhhh.”
In a private lounge inside the theater, Iago was hiding and sobbing uncontrollably.
Hunched over, knees drawn to his chest on the couch—just like he did when he was scared or sad as a child.
“…Your Highness, it’s just a play. A fictional story,” Atter said gently, adjusting his monocle and patting Iago’s broad shoulder.
Though truth be told, even Atter still had traces of tears on his face.
“But still… still… Uwaaaaahhh! Jake was just too pitiful!”
Sniffling, Iago pulled out a bunny-patterned handkerchief and wiped his eyes.
Atter nodded solemnly in understanding.
A tearful farewell between mother and son—right after arriving on the island, no less.
Anyone who didn’t cry at that had to be an emotionless monster.
Atter said gravely, “But Jake lived happily in the end, didn’t he?”
“Sniff sniff… Yeah. That’s true…”
Soothing him with expert skill, Atter added, “You should head back now. If you’re gone too long, the priestess might get suspicious.”
“Y-Yeah.”
After crying his heart out, Iago felt a little better.
He quickly wiped his face with a wet towel.
No one must ever know he had cried.
After all, he was the cruel Black King of the desert!
Having thoroughly erased any trace of tears, Iago put on his icy expression again and reentered the theater.
