Lilith sat in the lounge, waiting for Egor.
He had promised to come for her.
At least, that's what people here called this place—a lounge.
Nearby, Lissa sat cross-legged on the floor, a pile of coins spread out in front of her as she counted the day's earnings.
Over the past few days, more and more "townspeople" had started coming to the improvised rest house. Since the captain often ate in the main hall, Lissa—as their unofficial leader—had pushed for a separate entrance.
"For guests."
"So," Lissa said at last, not looking up, "why do you look like someone died?"
Lilith sighed.
"I'm completely useless."
Lissa paused.
Looked up.
"That bad?"
"It was supposed to be my gift," Lilith said miserably. "But in the end, Kik got everything. If I'd just tried harder, I wouldn't have needed him."
Lissa snorted.
"Lilith, your master wouldn't have cared if your massage was terrible. You ruined it yourself. You knew exactly how Kik looks at him."
"I know, but I didn't think my lord would… that he would…" She flushed and trailed off.
Lissa shook her head.
"My dear, he's a man. Men want sex as long as their bodies still work." She clicked her tongue. "The fact that he refused you? That means he respects you. You matter."
Lilith lowered her gaze.
"He doesn't look at me the way he looks at him," she murmured.
Then, quieter—
"At least he kissed me."
A small, dreamy smile touched her lips.
"Who kissed you?"
Egor stood in the doorway.
"So you finally found yourself a husband and stopped clinging to Klaus?" he added with a short, sharp laugh.
Lilith frowned.
"You're rude, Egor. And yet you go quiet the moment you're in front of my lord." She lifted her chin. "If you want to know—it was him. My lord kissed me."
Egor went pale.
"…What?"
"How did he kiss you?"
His voice sounded wrong.
Tight.
Like something was breaking.
Lilith smiled—pleased.
Too pleased.
"Like you kiss someone you love," she said softly. "Slowly. Gently."
She watched his face.
"And he said he'd share a bed with me later."
The lie came easily.
"What the hell— Lilith, did you drink something? Are you hearing yourself?"
"She's not lying," Lissa cut in calmly. "And stop looking like you're about to drop dead. She just begged him for a kiss for her birthday."
"Lissa!" Lilith snapped. "You don't have to say everything!"
Egor didn't speak.
August wasn't enough—
now Lilith too?
Klaus.
Cold.
Distant.
Untouchable.
And still—
ready to touch anyone.
Anyone—
except him.
Heat surged through his body.
His hands curled into fists.
"Are you coming?" he said abruptly, not looking at her. "I have things to do."
He turned—
and slammed straight into someone.
A bare chest.
"Watch where you're going," the fair-haired youth said irritably—then softened instantly when he saw Lilith. "Little sister… they kicked me out too."
Lissa burst out laughing.
"So you got rejected as well?"
"I got further than she did," he said with a grin, jerking his head toward Lilith. "But then the captain showed up. Did you know he's just as obsessed with his brother?"
"That's not news," Lissa said. "When he's drunk, he goes on about his one true love."
Egor stood there.
Silent.
His body felt wrong.
Weak.
Unsteady.
Like his legs might give out at any second.
Why was he even trying?
Why was he pushing himself for something he couldn't have?
If it didn't matter to Klaus—
who stood beside him—
if anyone—
anyone who wanted him—
could take that place—
Egor turned and walked out.
Lilith called after him—
"Wait! Where are you going?"
He didn't stop.
He ran.
—
Through the corridors.
Faster.
Breath tearing in his throat.
Straight to the training ground.
—
Goral was already there, arranging weapons with careful precision.
He never let anyone else touch them.
Said it calmed him.
Said no one else knew how to handle them right.
"Egor?" he said, surprised.
Egor didn't answer at first.
"Goral… you said my strikes fail because I don't put emotion into them."
"I did," Goral nodded. "But I also said it takes time. You're not used to—"
"Let me try again."
Goral frowned.
"You're exhausted."
"I'm not," Egor snapped. "I feel… stronger than usual."
A pause.
"And angry."
That made Goral look at him properly.
"…Fine," he said at last, handing him a wooden sword. "If you're sure."
Egor took it.
Stepped forward.
The dummy stood where it always did.
Crude.
Limbs wired on.
Head barely holding.
The goal—
hit hard enough—
to tear something off.
He had never managed it.
Not once.
—
Now—
he remembered everything.
The laughter.
The words.
The way Klaus looked at someone else.
The way he didn't look at him.
—
He struck.
Once—
Shoulder joint.
The shock ran through his arms.
Pain burst in his palms.
Again—
Other arm.
Still holding.
He sucked in air—
and let it all out.
The anger.
The humiliation.
The twisting pain in his chest.
A raw shout tore out of him as he struck the neck.
Once.
Twice.
The wire strained.
The head tilted.
He lifted the sword again—
Pain exploded in his wrist—
The strike weakened—
But it was enough.
The head tore free.
Fell.
Rolled slowly across the straw.
—
Egor dropped to his knees.
The sword slipped from his hands.
And then—
he broke.
A sob ripped out of him.
His shoulders shook violently.
Tears blurred everything.
He couldn't stop.
Didn't try to.
Until—
a heavy hand settled on his shoulder.
"Boy," Goral said quietly, "what the hell happened to you?"
Egor turned.
Face streaked with dirt and tears.
"Goral…"
His voice cracked.
"What kind of man is your captain?"
Goral blinked.
"…The captain?"
He sat down beside him.
"He's not simple."
"Why are you loyal to him?"
"He saved my life," Goral said. "Mine and my family's."
Egor waited.
Silent.
Goral exhaled.
"I'll tell you everything later—when you calm down."
"I don't like him," Egor muttered.
Goral smirked.
"He the reason for this?" he nodded toward the fallen head. "Then I should thank him."
"Partly him. Partly Klaus," Egor said. "Since we got here, I feel like I don't belong. Like I'm extra."
Goral let out a low chuckle.
"They've got history. Blood. The same goal. You're not competing with that."
A pause.
"And what's wrong with being extra? More wheels—steadier cart."
Egor let out a weak breath.
Almost a laugh.
"Then tell me this," he said quietly. "What does he want from Klaus?"
"For him to become king."
"And for that he'd do anything?"
Goral thought for a moment.
"If the captain wants something, he doesn't let it go," he said. "But he doesn't do stupid things without reason. Your lord isn't in danger."
A pause.
"He worships him, in his own way. He'd throw everything away before hurting him."
"That's exactly what scares me," Egor said.
Goral shook his head.
"I don't get you."
He nudged him lightly.
"But whatever you're feeling—hold onto it. Use it."
A glance at the dummy.
"Next time, we use real weapons."
Egor nodded slowly.
"…Tell me your story."
Maybe it would help.
Maybe it would explain—
what he lacked.
Why he couldn't stand where August did.
He wasn't ready to give up.
Even if every breath felt like something tearing inside his chest.
—
"I was a mercenary," Goral began. "From a young age."
"I was good. My family never went hungry. I trained myself before joining the army. Learned different weapons."
A faint smirk.
"That's what kept me from becoming a slave."
"But once I stood out…"
His expression darkened.
"The highborn noticed."
"Digger saw me as a threat."
"Who's Digger?"
"One of the king's six. Controls the military."
Goral continued:
"He couldn't kill me openly. So he went after my family."
"Sent mercenaries to my village. Made sure I'd hear about it."
"I ran back. Of course I did."
A bitter huff.
"That made me a deserter. A criminal."
"And then he sent an army."
"Hundreds."
"They reached the gates…"
A pause.
"And then August showed up."
"With ten men."
"We fought together that day."
"For the first time."
"And he offered protection."
"I knew the highborn wouldn't stop. Not until my whole family was dead."
"So I accepted."
Egor frowned.
"And you trust him just because he showed up?"
"You think I didn't question it?" Goral said calmly. "I did. But I didn't have a choice."
A pause.
"After that, he burned the village."
Egor froze.
"What?"
"He mutilated a corpse. Put my clothes on it. Hung it above the ashes."
Silence.
"No witnesses," Goral said. "No proof I lived."
Another pause.
"I've been with him two years."
"He's saved me more than once."
"He treats me as an equal."
"He gave my family freedom."
Goral's gaze hardened.
"Yeah, he can be reckless. Indulgent."
"But when it matters—he turns into something else."
"A monster, if he has to."
A beat.
"My loyalty isn't to his blood."
"It's to what he's done."
—
Egor sat there.
Empty.
Drained.
He understood now.
August wasn't the villain he wanted him to be.
And that made it worse.
Because the hatred—
was still there.
He wanted him gone.
Completely.
The thought that Klaus might cast him aside—
terrified him.
More than anything.
He didn't know if he could ever reach what those two had.
And that—
hurt the most.