IATVWAMOLS 113

113. The Abandoned Villain, and the Secret of Birth (3)

“So, what are you going to do from now on?”

At my question, Cayenne answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“I need to finish my personal revenge.”

“Revenge…”

“They probably wanted me to just die quietly, but after a lifetime of suffering like a dog, isn’t it too unfair to just keel over in silence?”

“…”

For the first time, I thought I could vaguely understand why Cayenne in the original story chose rebellion.

[Why do I hate the royal family so much?]

[Because after living my whole life being treated like filth as a slave, I learned to despise the ones above me.]

[How great could their bloodline possibly be, that they treat people as less than insects? Don’t you agree?]

At first, I thought his hostility was simply because of status issues.

But while glimpsing into Cayenne’s inner self, memories that formed the very root of his being swirled inside me.

The rage toward the empress who had driven him to death, the contempt for the father who lost his reason to her poisonous whispers.

The hatred toward those who sided with the empress in her schemes, and even the faint resentment toward the birth mother who failed to protect him—everything.

Even though I had only peeked briefly, the unresolved resentment cut straight to the bone.

Yet Cayenne spoke with a detached calm, as if narrating someone else’s story.

That composure made it impossible to offer him any clumsy words of comfort.

So instead of poor consolation, I spoke honestly.

“Still, it’s a miracle you survived. You were just an infant back then.”

“Someone must have taken me away midway. Who exactly, and what happened in between, even I don’t know.”

“…”

“Well, thanks to that nameless savior, I had to live a life worse than death.”

Cayenne let out a laugh that was somewhere between a scoff and bitter amusement.

Maybe it was the irresistible drowsiness, or maybe the affection boost from the mission reward—

He told me more stories than ever before.

But after a long time confessing his heart, he suddenly stopped.

“Did I say too much?”

“No, shouldn’t you have told me earlier? How long were you planning on hiding it?”

“Men with secrets are always more attractive, you know.”

“…At least you’ve got the energy left to talk nonsense.”

Even so, a small laugh slipped out.

“Still, thanks. For telling me.”

I patted his shoulder gently.

“Are you pitying me?”

“I’m comforting you.”

“Then do it properly.”

“Huh?”

He naturally lowered his head toward me. Startled, I raised my hand, and his golden hair tangled between my fingers.

His once-glinting crimson eyes grew hazy. The lips that usually curved in a bewitching smile drooped languidly.

“…I’m getting sleepy. Can I use that?”

Cayenne jerked his chin toward the empty bed. His eyelids were already half-closed.

‘Come to think of it, it’s already…’

Beyond the window, a pale dawn light was spilling over the ridgeline.

I nodded quickly. He staggered over and climbed into my bed.

“Thanks.”

His drowsy voice whispered faintly.

His innocent face curved in a soft smile.

That defenseless look—it made my stomach flutter for no reason.

Feeling almost guilty, I tried to hurry out of the room, but he grabbed my hand.

“Stay.”

“…!”

Before I could react, he tossed out a frivolous joke.

“I’ll just sleep holding your hand.”

“Ugh.”

When I grimaced openly, he burst into a soundless laugh.

“Will you watch over me until I fall asleep? I feel like I can entrust my back to you, Master.”

“…Fine.”

I couldn’t bring myself to shake off his hand. Reluctantly, I sat down by the bed.

Blink, blink—

The eyes that had been gazing at me slowly closed. The faint smile lingering at his lips vanished like a mirage.

His breathing grew steady and rhythmic.

“….”

Before I knew it, dawn had fully broken.

The blazing sun swept away the heavy darkness.

The light spilling in through the window washed over his hair.

The brilliant golden strands dulled to ashen gray, then deepened into a shade like the night sky without a trace of moonlight.

I watched that small miracle for a long time.

Surely, he himself had never once greeted such a radiant morning.

Helplessly entranced by the sight of the beautiful man bathed in dawn, I carefully released his hand.

“….”

I was about to quietly leave the room, but then I changed my mind.

“Inventory.”

At my whisper, the familiar item list unfolded before me. Without hesitation, I selected one item.

[Invitation into a Dream (Single-use)]
: Invites you into a dream.

When used, you may peek into the unconscious of the chosen male lead.

A perfect chance to discover the hidden sides of him you could never see in reality!

※You may only enter if the target is asleep.

[☞ Use Item ☜]

There were still things I wanted to hear from Cayenne.

About the true nature of his daytime personality.

And somehow, right now felt like the perfect moment when he would be completely honest.

“Use item.”

Flaaash—

【SYSTEM: Whose dream would you like to enter?】

[▶ Perwyn]
[Icart]
[Cayenne]
[Brecht]

“…Why is Brecht even listed? Is he not asleep?”

Only his name was crossed out.

As if to answer my doubt, the Administrator popped up.

【Unknown: Knights usually stand guard shifts even at night.】
【Unknown: ( •⌄• )✧】

“Working hard till late, huh.”

I accepted it casually and chose one person.

【SYSTEM: Entering Cayenne’s unconscious!】

[Due to item effect, a special event will occur!]

[Hidden Episode: ?? ??]

“A special event…?”

Before I could linger on the thought, my consciousness blurred.

—Shhhhhh—

The sound of waves crashing against rocks echoed. A salty, fishy smell pricked at my nose.

Even with my eyes closed, the blazing sun was dazzling.

The sea breeze tossed my hair around.

I blinked my eyes open.

Before me stretched a boundless emerald sea.

“So hot…”

Lying on the heated sand, sweat quickly seeped out of my skin.

As I carefully sat up, grains of sand clung to my bare arms.

The gritty texture made me grimace.

‘Ugh, sticky.’

Too real, too uncomfortable for a mere dream.

“You’re awake?”

Just then, a familiar voice came from above my head.

“Wha—Cayenne?”

Startled, I turned my head. Sure enough, it was the man I knew so well.

“Could you at least make a sound when you come near? My heart almost jumped out of my chest.”

“Sorry.”

“…Since when were you sitting there? And—”

I started to scold him, but then I noticed my own appearance.

Because of the heat, I hadn’t realized how little I was wearing. Just a thin slip, the kind one wore as sleepwear, clung loosely to me.

I was about to ask him for something to cover up, but the words died when I saw his state.

‘Not that he looks any better.’

His ribs were showing beneath rags that could hardly be called clothing.

At least I was decently dressed by comparison—his garb couldn’t even qualify as clothes.

‘With that black hair, this must be his daytime personality…’

His hair was overgrown, exactly like when I first met him.

I had trimmed it, fed him well, helped him regain his strength—

But here he was again, looking just as pitiful as before. It was frustrating.

Yet, oblivious to my thoughts, his face brightened with barely contained joy.

“Master, did you come to see me?”

“Uh? Y-Yeah.”

In truth, I had come to see the nighttime personality. But… did it really matter?

“…So you did. At last, you came to see me.”

His whole face lit up with a radiant smile.

Seeing him look so purely happy, guilt pricked at my chest.

‘So he knows how to smile like that.’

I thought he was always taciturn, never showing much emotion.

[A perfect chance to discover the hidden sides of him you could never see in reality!]

‘So it’s only because this is his dream…’

The item’s description wasn’t exaggerated after all.

“Come with me. I want to show you something.”

“Huh?”

Without warning, Cayenne grabbed my hand and tugged me along.

Startled, I followed. This was his dream anyway, and I had nowhere else to go.

He strode across the beach with practiced familiarity. Beyond the vast sands, the path led into a forest.

Finally, we arrived at a place I had never seen before.

“Where are we?”

“This is where I lived.”

“…You really lived in a place like this?”

He nodded sheepishly.

“It’s far too shabby to call it a house.”

Could a place without even a roof be called a home?

If he’d said livestock had been kept here, I would have believed it.

Rusty iron bars, discolored fences, ragged tarps flapping in the wind…

It was clearly the slave pen where he had once been imprisoned.