#87. People Will Think We Sleep Together Every Night
“Do I look like I came here to negotiate?”
Franz lifted one corner of his lips.
It was a relaxed yet provocative smile.
He looked young enough for it to seem playful, but Douglas still exhaled in relief inwardly.
‘He truly takes after His Majesty… How foolish of me to doubt he might not be a real son.’
Nikolai and Franz were unmistakably of the same bloodline.
Their hair color differed, but their expressions and temperaments were strikingly similar.
And those green eyes — weren’t they the very symbol of the Yvrei Imperial Family?
“Then is this a threat instead of persuasion?”
Owen, sitting upright with perfect posture, asked back coldly.
Franz shook his head in deliberate gravity.
“There’s no need to be so prickly.”
“…”
“I too owe a debt to Elizabeth.”
“You mean the poisoning incident, Your Highness?”
“I received great help from her then. But the greatest debt I owe her is something else.”
“And what would that be?”
“She was the one who reminded me that I, Franz Lof Yvrei, am the Emperor’s one and only heir.”
Franz’s expression hardened with determination as he looked straight ahead.
“Until I met her, I was a crown prince in name only. No one believed I would ever become emperor — not even myself.”
“Your Highness…!”
Douglas let out a breath that was almost a sigh.
“I decided I would aid His Majesty and help create a nation where the people could live without fear. Tell me, is there a greater debt than that?”
“Why are you saying this to a mere painter like me?” Owen asked.
Franz replied calmly.
“Because I wish to make you one of my own.”
“I’m a traitor — a fugitive!” Owen shouted, his voice full of bitterness and old resentment.
“No,” Franz said softly, “you are Count Owen Black.”
He pulled a document from within his coat.
Owen’s eyes widened as if they might tear apart.
“T-That… that’s—?!”
The parchment fluttered in the prince’s hand.
Owen’s knees nearly buckled, like reeds swaying in a storm.
And with good reason — it was a document of royal pardon and restoration, bearing the imperial seal of the Hartmann Empire.
“All your crimes are nullified. From this moment, your title is restored. Your mansion and lands will be returned to you.”
Franz spoke with cool composure.
Owen blinked rapidly, swallowing hard.
“Will you grant me that document only if I serve you, Your Highness?”
“I’m disappointed you’d think me so petty.”
Franz clicked his tongue in mock reproach like an adult pretending maturity — then proudly lifted his chin.
“It’s a gift. I couldn’t possibly visit the atelier of the Empire’s greatest genius painter empty-handed.”
“Y-Your Highness!”
“Ah, I see Elizabeth didn’t tell you. I’ve admired you for a long time. I even considered inviting you to the Academy as a professor of art.”
Joy slowly washed over Owen’s face.
He pressed the back of his hand to his damp eyes and bowed deeply.
“If you’d tried to win me over with this document, I would have bitten my tongue before obeying.”
“I know. You’re the man who didn’t yield even to the former Empress’s threats, after all.”
“That happened before Your Highness was even born… How could you possibly know?”
Franz’s expression hardened again.
“I am searching for all those whose lives were stolen by that woman.”
“What is your reason, Your Highness?”
“Because I too lost someone precious to her.”
“…!”
“I will never forgive her. I’ll gather my strength and destroy the viper who became Warden’s Queen.”
The boy’s emerald eyes glittered with a fierce, savage light.
‘The former Empress was exiled right after His Majesty’s coronation. His Highness was only four years old then… To bear such deep vengeance at that age—!’
Even Douglas couldn’t hide his shock.
Who was it that Franz had lost?
The secret surrounding the banished empress and the young crown prince grew like a poisonous red mushroom, spreading quietly beneath the surface.
“Will you join me, Count Owen?” Franz asked — in the voice of an emperor.
Owen bowed low.
“Thank you for granting me the chance for vengeance, Your Highness!”
“Thank me later. I hear you’ve been painting replicas lately?”
“That was Miss Elizabeth’s idea. The public may see them as mere copies.”
Owen’s face clouded with complicated emotions.
“The whole Empire will be in an uproar. If you become my art professor, it’ll cause an even bigger stir. I’ll host a grand party in your honor.”
“I’m deeply honored, Your Highness.”
“In exchange, there’s something I’d like you to do.”
“Whatever you wish.”
“I intend to hold an Imperial Art Exhibition. I want you to serve as head judge.”
Owen blinked in surprise.
Douglas also couldn’t make sense of it.
‘An art exhibition? Did he discuss this with Elizabeth too?’
Franz merely smiled secretively and offered no further explanation.
“I should return and prepare for the party.”
“I’ll escort you, Your Highness,” Douglas said, stepping forward.
But just then, a man appeared from nowhere.
A young knight in black leather armor that gleamed with a reddish tint — a sword with a blue-edged blade in hand.
“Who are you?!”
Douglas quickly stepped in front of Franz, assuming he was an assassin.
Franz intervened.
“Shade is my bodyguard knight. He’s been protecting me all along.”
“I’ve never seen him before…”
“You’re not supposed to. He rarely shows himself.”
Franz pressed his lips together, his face stiffening.
“The fact that Sir Shade has appeared means…” Douglas began, but didn’t finish —
CRASH!
An assassin smashed through the atelier window for real.
Even after dinner, I couldn’t shake the shock.
‘What if someone finds out Franz has the imperial seal? What if the wrong people come for him?!’
A creeping sense of dread coiled around me.
Franz, surrounded by assassins.
Franz, crying out for help.
Franz, collapsing in a pool of blood.
Why did only those images keep flashing before my eyes?
“How can you eat so calmly while your son might be in danger?”
Bang! I slammed the table.
Nikolai dabbed his mouth with a napkin.
The silver plate that once held some bizarre dish was now completely empty.
“Maintaining one’s health and nutrition is also an emperor’s duty.”
“Congratulations. You’re responsible and have an iron stomach too.”
“Your words are dripping with sarcasm.”
“Aren’t you worried about Franz?”
“I am — very much so.”
His dry, low voice resonated through the dining hall.
I crossed my arms like a sulking teenager.
“Wow. I never would’ve guessed. Impressive.”
“Would fidgeting anxiously here help Pinch in any way? If so, I’d gladly do it.”
He didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow as he replied.
“If you hadn’t given him the imperial seal, you wouldn’t need to worry.”
“There was something I needed to confirm.”
For a brief moment, guilt flickered through Nikolai’s teal eyes.
“You mean you were testing the Crown Prince’s abilities?”
“No. I was testing Kares.”
Kares? The Kares I knew?
My breath caught. A wave of discomfort — almost nausea — hit me.
Kares is the only retainer Nikolai trusts. Annoyingly competent, fiercely loyal — why would he…?
I swallowed a gasp.
What must Nikolai feel, to have to test even his closest aide?
In a softer tone, I asked,
“Did Kares… betray you?”
“I only sensed a subtle change.”
“It’s a misunderstanding. What could he possibly gain by betraying you?”
“That’s what I intend to find out.”
Nikolai’s lips pressed into a firm line.
Something hot welled up in my chest.
“So you put Franz in danger for that?”
“I trust Franz. And Shade as well.”
“That’s an awfully selfish kind of trust.”
“Perhaps I simply want to believe in Kares. That he’d never harm Pinch. That it’s all just my imagination…”
Nikolai’s unfocused eyes lingered on the flickering candlelight.
Silence fell.
Resentment and pity tangled inside me.
Nikolai wouldn’t suspect someone for no reason. When was the last time I used my charm on Kares?
I had been regularly using my demonic allure on him.
Even after its effect should’ve worn off, Kares remained friendly toward me.
But there’s a big difference between helping with small favors and betraying one’s lord.
What if I used my charm again — deeply — and ordered him to tell the truth? Would he?
I was still mulling that over when Nikolai rose from the table.
“I need some air.”
“Are you going to confront Kares?”
“Elizabeth. Even words sleep at night.”
Nikolai scolded me with an exasperated look.
Outside, the darkness had fallen thick as a curtain.
So… we’re spending the night together again?
A strange relief spread through my chest like faint watercolor in clear water — followed by a quiet flutter of excitement.
But I quickly shook my head, pulling myself back to my senses.
Poor Franz is all alone, and here I am thinking indecent thoughts. Get a hold of yourself, you perverted fool!
I hadn’t even imagined anything explicit — well, maybe just a little — but I still felt guilty.
“I should go rest too!” I blurted, flustered.
“That would be best.”
“I told Arkanso to prepare the best room for you.”
“Of course, the great Saint deserves nothing less.”
Nikolai smirked faintly. His nose wrinkled in subtle annoyance — as if telling me to stop.
“I asked for it for your sake. You can’t sleep unless the bed’s soft, remember?”
“Not necessary.”
“Don’t refuse out of pride. You didn’t sleep last night either.”
“There’s no need to refuse — I’ll just share your room.”
My heart plummeted.
The word “share a room” sounded far too much like “share a bed.”
Oh no. Maybe I really am possessed by a lustful spirit.
I tried to keep my tone cold and steady.
“Sharing a room with a young woman without her consent? You’re dreaming boldly tonight, Your Majesty.”
“Hasn’t it happened before? You should be used to it by now.”
Nikolai tilted his head slightly and smirked.
A metallic lilt slipped from between his lips.
“If someone heard us, they’d think we sleep together every night!”
“And if someone heard you, they’d think we’ve never slept together at all.”
Nikolai countered smoothly, his face utterly calm.
My cheeks burned red.
“S–Slept together?!”
“If we’re sharing a bed, what else would you call it?”
“That’s not what I meant—!”
“Or… were you thinking of something else, Elizabeth?”
His eyes narrowed dangerously.
The seductive gleam in his gaze pierced straight through me.
Each step he took closer made my heart thunder painfully.
I bit my dry lips and blinked rapidly.
How does he always know when I’m having indecent thoughts?!
My pulse raced.
He was making it clear — our game of temptation wasn’t over.
In fact, he was declaring war, confident of victory.
If this was all part of his game, then defeat was already near — because his scent, so intoxicating and close, made it hard even to breathe.
“Be proud, Elizabeth. You’re the only woman who has shared a bed with me more than once.”
