Rolling in Bed with the Male Lead

"You'll give it to me today, won't you?"

"Mmm, of course."

Richard forced up the corners of his mouth, unable to conceal the discomfort in his eyes.

The phrasing sounded strange, but provoking Zahir now would be dangerous.

"Really?"

Zahir's eyes curved gently. His smile appeared kind, yet something chilling seeped through it.

"Then let's go."

"Now...?"

Richard asked before he could stop himself.

"Yes, now."

Zahir smiled without hesitation and held out his hand. His pale fingertips gleamed in the sunlight.

"......."

Richard swallowed. He was already reeling from one incident after another.

But there was no way he could refuse.

"Mmm, all right...."

Richard sighed and took the offered hand.

Rustle.

The quiet sound of leaves brushing together came from one side of the garden.

Richard did not notice.

The way underground reeked of dampness.

Dim lamps hung along the walls, but their light was quickly swallowed by the darkness, making the narrow staircase appear endless.

"This way."

Zahir quickened his pace with practiced ease, and Richard followed heavily behind him.

Before long, they arrived at the secret shop concealed deep underground. Red velvet curtains covered the walls, and suspicious wine bottles stood on display everywhere. An eerie chill lingered in the air.

Zahir drew back a curtain and led Richard farther inside.

"Sit."

His voice was gentle, but the word carried the firmness of an order.

Richard hesitated briefly before settling back into the chair.

Zahir smiled in satisfaction and took hold of his arm. His fingers slid slowly over Richard's pale skin.

"I have always thought so, Richard... Your blood is special."

His eyes gradually darkened, as though steeped in color.

Richard looked away and held out his arm.

"This is the only time I'm giving you blood without payment."

Ordinarily, he would have demanded something in exchange, but since he had broken their promise first, it seemed best to yield this once.

"Of course."

Zahir laughed softly, gently stroking Richard's wrist with his fingertips.

He drew a small dagger. Its sharpened blade flashed beneath the dim lamplight.

"It will sting a little."

Slice.

The cold blade passed over Richard's wrist, and a red line swiftly bloomed in its wake. Warm blood trickled down over the back of his hand and dripped from his fingers.

Zahir brought over a wine bottle he had prepared in advance.

Drip. Drip.

The droplets ran down the glass, slowly filling the bottle.

"......."

Richard clenched his jaw and looked away. His fingertips tingled and trembled, but he kept his expression under control until the end.

Zahir, meanwhile, watched the blood collect with rapture.

"Beautiful. I feel as though the scent alone could intoxicate me."

Once the wine bottle was half full, Zahir stoppered it with a satisfied expression.

"Thank you, Richard. You've put me in a much better mood."

A peculiar smile lingered on his lips.

Richard wrapped a bandage around his wrist and muttered,

"...Then I'll see you next time."

Zahir tried to stop him, regret evident in his eyes, but Richard turned away, making it clear that he had no intention of staying any longer.

He climbed the long, dark staircase and pushed through the curtain, only for a familiar shadow to abruptly fall across his path.

"......?"

Richard stopped short.

A woman in an extravagant dress stood before him.

Ruby-red lips and a faintly upturned smile—though it was certainly not a friendly one.

It was the villainess, Princess Cesica.

Richard steadied his breathing and glanced aside.

Ah.

Running into her here was not particularly surprising.

Richard had learned about this place during his fifth regression.

He had discovered it after seeing the villainess frequent the shop to carry out schemes involving love potions.

"......."

Princess Cesica approached at a leisurely pace, the hem of her red dress whispering as she stopped before him.

"To think that Young Lord Friedrich would venture all the way to a place like this... How unexpected."

Her gaze slowly descended to Richard's wrist. The crimson stain seeping through the fresh bandage was unmistakable.

"And to emerge with an injury, no less."

"......."

Richard drew a short breath. His face remained impassive, but inwardly he clicked his tongue and suppressed his displeasure.

"What a coincidence... meeting you in a place like this, Princess."

"A coincidence?"

The corners of Princess Cesica's mouth slowly curved upward.

"There cannot be many people who know of this place."

As she approached, Richard instinctively stepped back. He soon composed himself, however, and calmly met her gaze.

...I can't afford to generate even more gossip right now.

The cold agitation in his mind subsided. He already had more than enough crises converging on him from every direction.

"Young Lord Friedrich."

Princess Cesica's eyes gleamed sharply.

Reflected in the dim underground lamplight, her violet eyes were as cold as ice.

"Shall I make you a proposal?"

She toyed with her ruby necklace, slowly raising the corners of her mouth.

"I believe it would be in both our interests to keep each other's secrets."

"......."

"Let us pretend we saw nothing."

At that moment, Richard's watery-blue eyes turned cold.

Ah.

The realization came immediately.

It seems she isn't in a good position either.

Like him, she did not want to invite needless gossip.

That was understandable.

She was probably already being viewed with suspicion because of the allegations that Vilmar Cesica had attempted to assassinate the Emperor.

There was nothing to gain from exposing another potential weakness.

"Very well."

Richard shrugged as he answered.

There was no need to get entangled in a pointless matter and invite trouble. Since they were in the same position, the wisest course was to look the other way.

With that, Richard walked past her. Amid the acrid underground air, the scents of roses and iron mingled into a strange lingering trace.

Richard climbed the silent staircase, then stopped after some time. Slowly turning his head toward Princess Cesica, who remained standing in the darkness, he spoke.

"......However."

His watery-blue eyes gleamed coldly.

"Do you truly know nothing of the Duke's whereabouts, Princess?"

The foot of the staircase fell silent.

"......."

Princess Cesica said nothing for quite some time. A smile still graced her face, but its meaning was not easily read.

At last, she answered.

"No, regrettably."

A cold smile emerged from the darkness.

After that, neither of them spoke again.

Richard continued up the stairs, while Princess Cesica dragged the hem of her red dress behind her and slowly vanished into the shadows in the opposite direction.

Only the underground silence returned to fill the space.

In one corner of the garden, a cold gaze was fixed upon a single point.

"I'm hurt."

"......."

"Don't you think you've stayed away too long? Especially after making me a promise."

A black-haired man had appeared before Richard Friedrich.

Leaning crookedly against a tree trunk, the man smiled brightly while Richard responded as though they were intimate.

"Sorry. I've been busy lately."

"Mmm?"

The man's smile widened.

"Don't tell me you forgot about me because you were busy."

"......."

"I need you."

With an easy smile on his face, he continued spouting incomprehensible remarks.

"We agreed that you would offer me your body from time to time in exchange for payment."

What was that supposed to mean?

Was Richard selling his body to him? Or was it something else?

......There was no way to know for certain.

"......."

Richard seemed to hesitate before reluctantly nodding and speaking.

"Yes, Zahir... I'm truly sorry I forgot about you for so long."

"Hmm. Well, all right."

The man murmured languidly,

"People forget things when they're busy. I understand."

"......Yes. Thank you for understand—"

"But."

The smiling man stepped closer, casting a long shadow over Richard.

"You'll give it to me today, won't you?"

It was enough to make one's breath catch.

And there was someone else watching the scene from afar.

A pair of crimson eyes narrowed coldly.

Cailus.

He stared at the two of them in silence, his gaze rigid and cold.

His eyes were glacial enough to sting.

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