"I haven’t put anything in it this time."
Richard picked up his own glass first and took a sip of the red wine.
"..."
Cailus’s suspicious gaze did not waver.
He slowly folded his arms and sat across from Richard, watching him in silence. His crimson eyes held both wariness and cold suspicion.
"How am I supposed to believe you haven’t tried something like last time?"
At the terse, firm question, Richard lowered his head slightly and smiled, his eyes curving prettily.
"Why would I?"
"I wasn’t pleased by what happened last time either."
"..."
Cailus said nothing.
His crimson eyes merely indicated the wineglass on the table.
"Then you should have no trouble proving it. Drink it yourself."
"...Well, that’s hardly difficult."
Richard shrugged without hesitation. He picked up Cailus’s wineglass and drained it in one gulp without the slightest pause.
"..."
Cailus silently watched him before finally giving a slight nod.
"Fine. So this isn’t another trick."
"I told you it wasn’t."
Richard grinned as he poured more wine into the empty glass. The red liquid rose inside the clear glass, glimmering faintly.
"Now, will you join me for a drink?"
"..."
Still without the slightest change in expression, Cailus raised the glass.
"If that’s what you want."
"...Excellent."
It worked.
Richard suppressed a cry of triumph.
When did people show their greatest weakness?
When they were drunk.
I’ll keep pouring until he’s completely wasted.
Then Richard would exploit the opening and somehow stop him from breaking the engagement.
And when it comes to drinking...
The corners of Richard’s mouth slowly rose.
I’m rather confident.
...That was what he thought. He truly did.
An hour later.
"So I’m telling you, Cai... fuck, Lady Beatus died because of you!"
Smack! An empty glass slammed roughly onto the table. Red droplets splashed across the white cloth, leaving stains behind.
"Huh? Don’t you get it, you baaastard?"
Richard laughed drunkenly as he swayed. His eyes were half-lidded and unfocused from all the alcohol.
Still giggling, he repeatedly jabbed Cailus in the forehead with one finger.
Richard was most certainly not a lightweight.
He could hold his liquor quite well.
But there was one thing he had miscalculated...
"...You’re completely drunk."
Cailus sighed without showing the slightest sign of intoxication.
He was several times more resistant to alcohol than Richard....
"I’m noooot drunk... I said I’m not drunk."
Richard mumbled with a thoroughly slurred tongue as he seized the bottle.
His fingers slipped and the bottle tilted, but Cailus silently reached out and took it from him.
"That’s enough."
His low voice was cold.
"Whyyyy? I’m still perfectly fine..."
Grinning, Richard leaned toward Cailus.
His face was flushed crimson, and his wine-scented breath brushed Cailus’s shoulder.
"I’m... not drunk. Really. I can see... completely straight right now..."
Richard weakly reached out and clutched Cailus’s collar. His unfocused eyes blinked hazily.
"But... you know."
His words came out clumsily, as though his throat were closing.
"Why... why did you save me? You hate me."
No answer came.
Cailus’s eyes quietly pierced through him, but his lips remained firmly sealed.
"...Honor? Don’t give me that crap about honor..."
Richard laughed foolishly. The end of his laughter trembled, and his voice soon grew hoarse.
"That look in your eyes... wasn’t about protecting your honor. I know..."
At last, he laid his arms on the table and buried his chin in them.
His eyelids gradually sank. The alcohol weighed down both his mind and body.
"...You said you hated me... so why were you... Why were you so angry...?"
Clatter.
The empty glass rolled from his fingertips.
Richard’s breathing soon became slow and even.
"..."
Cailus looked down at him without a word.
Thoroughly sodden with wine, Richard had fallen into a deep sleep.
Cailus’s crimson eyes wavered faintly.
A moment later, he quietly reached out, pulled Richard upright by the shoulders, and carried him to the bed.
Richard’s body sagged limply.
Cailus watched his face for a moment, then turned away indifferently.
He extinguished one of the candles.
The room was soon submerged in darkness.
All that remained was the steady breathing of Richard, who had passed out miserably from the alcohol.
"Gasp!"
Richard’s eyes flew open.
He drew a ragged breath. His head throbbed as dizziness washed over him.
When he sat up in bed, the hopelessly tangled blankets slid onto the floor.
...Damn it.
His head felt ready to split apart. His tongue was parched from the alcohol, and the bitter taste of wine lingered in his mouth.
And then—
Fragments of the earlier scene suddenly flashed through his mind.
...Fuck, Lady Beatus died because of you!
Himself staggering as he slammed his glass onto the table.
The sight of himself spouting drunken nonsense while repeatedly jabbing Cailus in the forehead.
Every absurd word and humiliating display came flooding back.
Richard covered his face with both hands.
...I’m screwed.
That had most certainly not been the plan.
He had intended to get Cailus thoroughly drunk, exploit the opening, and prevent him from breaking the engagement....
That had definitely been the plan!
And instead, he had gotten drunk and babbled like an idiot!
What fucking plan? All I did was make a fool of myself.
Richard squeezed his eyes shut. His heart pounded with mortification.
"..."
Slowly, he raised his head and looked around.
How much time has passed...?
The candle had melted halfway before going out, its wax now hardened, and the room had grown cold.
Only the wine stains from the previous night and empty glasses remained on the table.
Is it... dawn?
He looked up at the wall clock and realized that it was.
Only a few hours had passed since they had begun drinking.
At least that’s something...
Richard glanced around.
...Cailus.
Where had the bastard gone?
Had he watched Richard’s humiliating display until the end, or had he left midway through it?
Either way, Richard had to create an opportunity to stop him from breaking the engagement before the day was over. Otherwise, it was all over.
Richard sprang out of bed.
Forcing his unsteady legs to straighten, he snatched up the coat draped beside the bed and threw it on carelessly.
His head was still pounding, but there was something far more urgent than the pain now.
...I have to find out where he is.
Richard hurriedly opened the door and stepped outside.
The corridors of the Imperial Palace lay silent in the predawn darkness.
Long shadows cast by the lamps flickered across the stone pillars, and cold air bit into his skin.
...Where did he go?
His heart beat oppressively.
He checked Cailus’s office first. But the door was firmly shut, and there was no sign of anyone inside.
Next came the meeting room, the library, and the garden. The bastard was nowhere to be found.
The garden paths stretched out like the walls of a military tent. Only the cold wind brushed Richard’s cheek. The lingering scent of funeral incense drifted faintly through the air.
Where the hell did he disappear to?
"...Damn it."
Richard clenched his teeth.
His steps grew increasingly frantic. As he crossed the long corridors, goose bumps rose over his entire body. Somehow, every path felt unfamiliar. He knew the corridors of the Imperial Palace intimately, yet now they felt ominous, as though he were trapped in a maze.
"..."
Eventually, his feet stopped in a corner of the Imperial Palace permeated by dampness and the smell of mold.
His eyes slowly narrowed on the door at the end of the cramped passage.
The warehouse.
The last place he had yet to search.
...Surely not.
Richard stopped for a moment.
His heart thudded.
This was where those vile noblemen had tried to rape him.
It was unlikely that Cailus would be here for no apparent reason, but...
"..."
He drew a deep breath.
Suppressing the tremor in his fingertips, he grasped the old door handle. The cold metal dug into his palm.
Click—
The door slowly swung open.
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