Thomas moved through the market as just another face in the crowd, his cloak plain, his gaze lowered. Around him, voices clashed, coins rang, and the city breathed without knowing who walked among it.
People circled around a performing jester. Thomas walked towards a bar. As he entered, he found John sitting in a corner, sipping wine. Alone.
He glanced around; the bar was nearly empty except for waiters and a few drunkards.
He took the empty seat at John's table and tossed a gold coin. "Today, the hero's drink is on me."
John's eyes struggled to focus, blinking too slowly, and a crooked, delayed smile pulled at his slackened face. "Thanks for… your generosity. But what for?"
Thomas took a single sip of wine and answered with a smile. "Nothing. I just heard tales of your bravery and wanted to see the hero from the stories."
John stared at him for a few seconds and nodded, his understanding delayed.
"Sir John, you were once the royal knight commander. Now you are—"
John slammed his rum on the table, cutting off his words. "Because of the big dog's small brain. Otherwise, I might be even higher."
"A general?"
John took his time to answer. "Yes… general."
'No, king.'
Thomas asked, "Hmm… King Thomas and Queen Emma aren't a perfect match. Don't you think, Sir John?"
John didn't respond. So, Thomas pushed a little more. "Her Highness is smart and gorgeous, like a goddess. And for such a goddess, a devil doesn't suit." He poured more beer into John's cup. "For a goddess, only a powerful hero is suitable—someone like you."
"Hehehe… who knows." John denied it, but he couldn't hide from Thomas's truth ability. 'Yes, I made her fall madly in love with me.'
Thomas gulped down the wine. It felt tasteless. His other hand tightened around one of the table's legs.
John asked, "Where are you from? I've never seen you around."
"Hah! My apologies. I am Stuart Bridge from Burnihilde. My country recently faced an intense famine. I fled here."
At the mention of Burnihilde, John's face grew dull, and he stared at his own reflection in the rum. 'My home.'
Thomas stared at him, his hand reaching toward his knife. So, he is from Burnihilde. And he infiltrated as a spy.
"What are you waiting for? Kill him," Dire whispered in his ear.
Thomas's hand gripped over the knife. He took a glance at his surroundings.
The bar was almost empty; he was in disguise. There was no chance of being caught.
He gulped. What if he isn't drunk? What if he really isn't a spy? What if one of the drunkards is his ally?
"Okay, my friend, I'll take my leave. If fate allows, we'll meet again." John stood up and walked toward the door with wobbling legs.
"What the fuck are you doing? He was right in front of you. You had your chance. But you did nothing?"
"I still have a chance."
He stood up and silently walked toward him.
Suddenly, the door opened and two soldiers entered. "Oh! That's wh—salute, Sir John!"
"Let us help you." They both supported him from either side.
Shit! Thomas hid the knife and silently exited the bar.
---
Thomas entered the castle and walked toward the library. But in the corridor, he spotted a smiling Emma chatting with a few maids.
As he appeared, the maids flustered and bowed. "Greetings, Your Majesty."
He nodded and turned to Emma. "What happened, Emma? You seem very happy. Did something good happen?"
"Nah! Just in a good mood." She answered with a smile. But her face couldn't lie. She was so happy that her face was blushed, with a tiny drop of tears at the corner. And the truth revealed the reason behind it. 'I am pregnant. And also, tonight, I will be free from your hands.'
Thomas maintained his smiling face, but his hands, behind his back, were clenching.
"Okay, I'll take my leave." Thomas quickly walked away, afraid that if he stayed any longer, he might do something.
He entered the library and sat on a chair. He went unnaturally still, as if movement itself would break him. He restrained himself so much that the veins in his arms bulged. The armrest loosened from its joint.
"AAAAAAA!!!"
He screamed loudly. His painful scream echoed within the four closed walls.
"Hurt. Isn't it? But you deserve this pain."
"This is what happens when you keep choosing not to act."
He ignored Dire's words, leaned back, and closed his eyes. He tried to calm himself, but it was no use; those memories kept returning like spears to his heart.
---
The night outside Thomas's bedroom was moonless, leaving the room steeped in shadow.
Suddenly, the door slowly opened. A silhouette in a black robe, camouflaged by the shadows, entered. The figure walked near the bed where Thomas appeared to be sleeping soundlessly.
The assassin took out a sharp knife and stabbed the bed again and again.
"What are you doing, Emma?"
A voice from behind stopped the assassin. She looked backward but saw nothing.
Click!
A matchstick was lit and ignited a lamp. The lamplight illuminated the corner of the room, revealing Thomas sitting in a chair, swirling red wine in his hand.
Emma glanced at the bed and saw a puppet lying there. Then she glared at him and charged with the knife.
Thomas splashed the wine over her eyes and, with a swift motion, kicked her hand. The knife dropped from her grip. Then Thomas drew his sword and placed the blade against her neck.
The cold sensation on her neck froze her struggles.
Emma removed her mask, wiped the wine from her face, and glared at him. Her eyes didn't waver. There was no hesitation or guilt—just pure bloodlust. "What are you waiting for? KILL ME."
"KILL ME!"
The blade was pulled back, his hand trembling. He collapsed into the chair. His eyes looked at his own shadow reflected in her eyes. "I can't."
"No matter how much I pretend… I still love you."
Emma's eyes widened. "LOVE ME? RIDICULOUS!" she shouted. "I DON'T LOVE YOU!"
"I DON'T LOVE THE PERSON WHO KILLED MY PARENTS! WHO KILLED MY SON! JUST FOR THE FUCKING KINGDOM!"
"They betrayed me."
"BETRAYED YOU? NO, YOU BETRAYED THEIR EXPECTATIONS! YOU BETRAYED THEIR BELIEFS!"
Thomas may have looked calm and composed, but inside he was hollow, drowning in despair, disbelief, sadness, and emptiness.
"PUT THEM ASIDE! I BETRAYED YOU! I LOVE JOHN! AND I AM PREGNANT WITH HIS CHILD! NOW, KILL ME!"
His hand tightened over the armrest. Then he shouted, "Guards!"
Several guards, silhouetted in black clothes, entered the room through the door and windows.
Emma looked around at them.
Thomas ordered, "You will leave this place with the first ray of sun. With your lover. I have set up some wealth and a scenario for your fake death. Start your new life, in a new place, with a new identity… a new partner."
"You knew all this… but you still kept up your act—" Guards quickly detained her and took her outside, leaving Thomas alone.
"Why did you let her go?" Dire suddenly appeared before him and asked.
"I didn't let her go. She and John will die in the fake death scenario."
"Hah… I freed her from pain. Even in a new life, she will still burn with hatred and grief. But the most breaking part for her will be the betrayal by her own lover."
"And you directed her hatred toward yourself. Aren't you too heartless toward yourself?"
His lips lifted slightly. "My heart died when my own kin tried to assassinate me." Then he glanced at Dire. "Even my soul is no longer mine."
"All that's left is this hollow body, bound by a promise."