As soon as the three of them entered their shared room, Klaus kicked off his boots and dropped onto the bed.
"Comfortable enough," he muttered, then frowned. "But too small. You can take it. I'll have them bring two more by tonight."
"I can sleep on the floor," Egor said, pointing at the thick rolled mattresses. "Look at those. Three beds wouldn't even fit in here. Even if we moved the table, the mattresses alone would take up everything."
Klaus exhaled.
"Yes. You're right. Then I'll go for a walk while you rest. Lilith—that includes you."
"But, my lord—"
"No."
Sharp. Final.
"I want to be alone. I need to think."
The girl lowered her head.
She didn't move until he left.
Then—quietly, carefully—she slipped out after him like a shadow.
Egor rolled his eyes and lay back.
He had only meant to rest for a moment.
Just to think.
But sleep took him almost immediately.
—
Klaus wandered the corridors.
The moment he stepped away from the main passage—
he got lost.
The place was a labyrinth.
Turn after turn.
Corridor after corridor.
Dead ends.
Again.
And again.
And again.
And he refused—stubbornly, almost spitefully—to ask anyone for directions.
The looks didn't help.
Fear.
Reverence.
Too much of both.
Soldiers. Commoners. Even children.
They didn't know how to behave around him.
They obeyed the order not to kneel—
but he could see it.
The tension in their shoulders.
The hesitation.
The instinct to drop.
To submit.
Klaus didn't stop.
Didn't speak.
He only gave short nods and kept walking—
into another dead end.
And another.
He knew Lilith was following him.
Of course she was.
He could feel it—
the careful steps,
the held breath,
the desperate effort not to be seen.
He said nothing.
Pretended not to notice.
But something had to change.
He couldn't be the center of her world.
Not like this.
Not to this extent.
Not when her entire existence was beginning to orbit him like a fixed point.
That wasn't loyalty.
That was dependence.
And dependence turned into chains faster than most people realized.
He needed to teach her how to live—
without him.
Because one day—
he wouldn't be there.
What he wanted—right now—
was freedom.
Just a fragment of it.
August's plans pressed in on him.
Heavy.
Relentless.
And the role waiting for him—
worse.
Status had always been chains.
But this—
this felt like iron driven into bone.
Something already decided.
Something already closing around him.
Yes, he had wanted to change this world.
He still did.
He had always been ready to sacrifice for it.
But now—
there was Egor.
That changed everything.
Klaus didn't want his choices—
his mistakes—
to drag Egor down with him.
Didn't want him caught in it.
Didn't want him broken by it.
So he needed distance.
Cold.
Deliberate.
He needed Egor to let go.
To stop believing in whatever it was he thought he felt.
Because what Klaus was about to do—
left no room for attachment.
—
Hours passed before Klaus finally recognized a corridor.
From there, he managed—barely—to find his way back.
The room was empty.
A note lay on the table.
Egor's handwriting.
Not this world's language.
Klaus didn't need to think to understand it.
With the healer. Back soon.
He tossed his shoes aside and dropped onto the bed, hands behind his head.
The door creaked open.
"Come in," he said without looking. "Tired of following me?"
A pause.
Soft steps.
Lilith entered and lowered her head.
"Forgive me, my lord. I thought I was hiding well."
"You were," Klaus said, a faint smirk touching his lips. "I'm just good at noticing when I'm being followed."
He sat up.
"If you want to stay with me, then listen carefully."
A pause.
"The most important rule—"
His voice hardened.
"I need space."
"If I tell you not to follow me, I expect you to obey. Do you understand?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
And he knew immediately—
she hadn't understood at all.
Not even close.
To her, obedience didn't mean distance.
It meant devotion.
Klaus exhaled slowly.
"Listen," he said, softer now. "You're safe."
He stood, walked to the table, opened a drawer—
nothing useful.
For a moment, he hesitated.
Then—
he tore the top button from his shirt.
Placed it between his palms.
Closed his eyes.
White light flared—
sharp,
controlled—
then vanished.
Klaus opened his hands.
Picked up the button.
Held it out to her.
"Take it."
She hesitated—
then stepped forward.
"I've infused it with my power," he said. "If you're ever in danger—crush it. I'll know where you are. I'll come."
A pause.
"It will protect you until I do."
Her eyes lit up.
Not just bright—
devoted.
She cupped it in both hands like something sacred.
Like something holy.
Like something that carried his presence.
"Thank you, my lord… thank you!" she said, dropping to her knees in a deep bow.
Klaus sighed.
"Let's skip the bowing."
She didn't stop.
Because to her—
this wasn't just a button.
It had touched him.
It had belonged to him.
It carried his power.
His presence.
And now—
it was hers.
Proof.
That she belonged to him.
—
The door opened again.
Egor stepped inside.
"Everything all right?" Klaus asked immediately.
"The healer says I'm completely free of the poison," Egor said with a smile. "How was your walk?"
Klaus let out a quiet breath.
"Like a never-ending quest," he said. "I have no idea how this place is organized."
—
Half an hour later, August came for him.
Far too cheerful.
"Come on," he said, nudging Klaus forward. "I'm starving."
They walked.
Turned once.
Twice.
Again.
Again.
Soon Klaus stopped even trying to remember the way.
"Well," August said, gesturing ahead, "here we are."
The entrance was hidden behind a light, opaque curtain.
Inside—
warmth.
Soft light.
Low table.
Cushions.
Incense.
Firelight.
An atmosphere designed to lower defenses.
To soften resistance.
"To relax," Klaus said, settling down.
"I'm glad you like it," August replied. "Ladies—set the table."
Klaus felt like some eastern noble from the other world—
surrounded by beauty.
Graceful movement.
Soft voices.
Wine.
Hands brushing too close.
Glances that lingered too long.
August welcomed it.
Smiled.
Touched.
Encouraged.
Klaus didn't.
He noticed beauty.
Of course he did.
But it stirred nothing in him.
No hunger.
No pull.
No need.
"There it is again," August said. "That distance. That cold look. You never lost it."
A grin.
"Don't you ever want to relax in someone's arms? One of them… or several?"
Soft laughter rippled through the room.
"You know I'm not driven by that," Klaus said.
"Or maybe you prefer men," August added lightly. "We have those too."
As if on cue, three young men entered.
Klaus didn't even blink.
"In general, sex doesn't interest me much," he said plainly. "Man or woman—it makes no difference."
August tilted his head.
"No attraction at all? Or does it just not work?"
A glance downward.
Blunt.
Deliberate.
Klaus grimaced.
"Is that really what you want to discuss?"
A pause.
"And no. There's nothing wrong with me."
His voice cooled.
"I can enjoy it. But I don't need it."
"It doesn't leave anything behind."
"Nothing I want more of."
August snorted.
"So you can fuck, then. That's all I needed to know."
Klaus shot him a flat look.
"Yes."
A beat.
"Now can we eat?"
—
They talked.
Lightly.
Casually.
Memories.
Old stories.
But Klaus didn't relax.
Not really.
Something felt off.
Measured.
Calculated.
As if August wasn't just talking—
but evaluating.
Testing.
Looking for weaknesses.
Leverage.
Points of control.
Maybe it was paranoia.
Maybe not.
He hid it well.
Years of pretending—
of performing—
served him now.
His coldness softened just enough.
Enough for the others to grow bolder.
Closer.
One of the girls leaned into him.
Then another.
A young man lingered too long at his side.
August accepted fruit from a smiling brunette.
Hands.
Touches.
Laughter.
Klaus watched.
Observed.
Allowed.
"You speak of freedom," Klaus said at one point, draping an arm loosely around the girl beside him. "And yet—what is this?"
A glance around.
"A brothel in your little kingdom."
"First," August said, "it's your kingdom."
A smile.
"And second—no one here is forced."
One of the girls leaned closer.
"My lord," she said softly, "I was sold to a pleasure house at thirteen. This is all I know."
She gestured around.
"Here—I choose."
"No one forces me."
Her fingers brushed his cheek.
Slid lower.
"What do you want?" Klaus asked.
"You," she said without hesitation.
"And after that?"
She pressed closer.
"I want my own house."
"A place where women like me can live… work… and leave when they wish."
Klaus held her gaze.
Freedom.
To her—this was freedom.
The same system.
The same structure.
Just with the illusion of choice.
To Lilith—belonging by choice was freedom.
To this girl—selling herself on her own terms was freedom.
And to him—
what did freedom even mean?
And what kind of freedom could he offer anyone?
—
More than two hours passed.
Egor and Lilith had finished eating long ago.
Too long ago.
Egor stared at the nearly empty wine jug.
Then poured another glass anyway.
"What could he possibly be doing…" he muttered.
He knew the alcohol was speaking.
Knew it.
Didn't matter.
"Do you want some?" he asked again.
Lilith shook her head.
Her gaze was fixed on his wrist.
"Young master… is that mark from the elder master?"
Egor blinked.
"Young master? Just call me Egor."
"Am I allowed?"
"I'm not a prince."
She hesitated.
"And our master… he really is one?"
"I hear how people speak to him… I don't know how I should behave."
"To me, a master is simply someone you belong to."
Egor paused.
"…Have you ever been free?"
"No."
No hesitation.
"I only remember cellars."
Egor swallowed.
"I'm sorry."
"Why? You had nothing to do with it."
He rolled up his sleeve.
Showed the mark.
"This means I belong to Klaus too."
A bitter half-smile.
"If you think about it—I'm not that different from you."
"But he treats you as an equal," she said, confused.
"And he doesn't make you bow all day either."
Lilith leaned closer.
Studied the mark.
"I want one like this too," she said.
"Do you think he would give me such a gift?"
Egor froze.
"A… gift?"
"Yes."
Her voice was steady.
"Isn't it happiness—to belong to him?"
"You don't seem unhappy."
Egor exhaled slowly.
"It's not that simple."
She wouldn't understand.
How could she?
They were looking at the same thing—
and seeing completely different worlds.
And yet—
they both wanted the same thing.
To belong to Klaus.
Egor clenched his jaw.
"I'm going to find him."
"I'll come with you."
—
Later that night—
Klaus turned to August.
"I still don't understand how this place is structured. Explain it to me."
August smirked.
"You always take the easy path. I'll draw you a map."
"Spare me."
"On one condition."
A pause.
"You tell me everything about the world you visited."
"…Fine."
"Tomorrow," August said. "We've both had too much to drink."
Klaus didn't argue.
A young man poured him more wine.
Klaus met his eyes.
Drank.
The boy leaned against him.
Too close.
The girls shifted—
annoyed.
Then—
a voice.
From the doorway.
Sharp.
Drunk.
"Oh, forgive us for disturbing you, Your Majesty."
Klaus turned.
Egor stood there.
Rigid.
Unhappy.
Lilith behind him.
Wide-eyed.
Klaus cursed inwardly.
He stood immediately.
Too quickly.
Too abruptly.
Guilty.
It didn't escape August.
"Little brother," August laughed, "is it just me, or can your companions not last an hour without you?"
"It's been over two," Egor said.
Flat.
Tight.
"My lord," Lilith said, stepping forward, "I can do that too."
She pointed at the girls.
"Will you teach me?"
Silence.
Then laughter.
Loud.
Uncontrolled.
Klaus pressed a hand to his forehead.
"No, Lilith. You don't need to learn that."
"But Master looked pleased—"
"Too pleased," Egor muttered.
"I think I should go," Klaus said.
A beat.
"It was good to see you."
A glance around.
"And thank you for the… company."
—
They walked back in silence.
Wrong turn.
Another.
Another.
Klaus said nothing.
Behind him—
Egor's breathing.
Sharp.
Uneven.
Barely controlled.
Until the door closed.
Then—
"So this is how you relax?"
The words came out rough.
"And I wondered why you agreed to Clara so quickly."
A bitter laugh.
"Turns out you like this."
"Don't talk nonsense."
"Right. Nonsense."
Egor stopped.
Faltered.
"…Forget it."
A pause.
"I drank too much."
"Let's just sleep."
"Lilith—you take the bed," Klaus said firmly.
"No arguments."
He sat down on one of the mattresses.
Pulled off his shirt.
Dropped it aside.
Egor said nothing.
Unbuttoned his own.
Folded both—
carefully.
Lay down beside him.
Turned away.
Pulled the blanket over his head.
"I think it would've been safer if I slept with Lilith," he muttered.
Klaus glanced at him.
"Safer for whom?"
No answer came.