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CHAPTER 30
“Is that… the ‘love’ you were talking about?”
Kaath awkwardly pronounced the word love.
At that moment, when Linaria met his transparent golden eyes—eyes that looked like they knew nothing—her heart softened.
Whispering lies to him felt like a grave sin. Because it wasn’t just any lie—she was deceiving him about her feelings.
“…Yes. Because I love you, I want to do anything for you.”
But more than guilt, what she felt was hatred.
Linaria hated Maximilian so much, she wanted to rip him apart with her own hands.
“Kaath. Don’t you want to do to them what they did to you?”
“……”
“I think your life has been terribly unfair.”
Hatred forged bonds more easily and firmly than love ever could.
So Linaria spoke of his hatred, not her own feelings.
Because revenge becomes most desperate when it’s not for you, but for me.
“……”
In that moment, Kaath looked more unfamiliar than when he had heard the word “love.” As if he were hearing a foreign language from a faraway land.
Given all he’d been through, all his emotions worn thin by suffering, expecting an immediate answer seemed unreasonable.
“Do you like pancakes?”
But that was okay.
“Let’s eat breakfast first.”
Because now, he was no longer Maximilian’s.
He was hers.
Kaath looked at himself in the mirror.
He looked unnaturally clean.
So did the room they were staying in for the night—immaculately tidy, to the point where he hesitated to even touch anything.
Just yesterday, he couldn’t have imagined being in such a place.
“This ruby necklace… looks real, doesn’t it? We could probably sell this separately.”
He hadn’t expected a heaven-like life just because he’d escaped hell.
But he had at least hoped to be free from pain that felt like being torn apart.
“W-What the hell? Why is he so strong?!”
“I just barely managed to get the choker on…”
“This bastard won’t open his mouth!”
He escaped hell.
But his mind remained hazy, and pain still struck him like punishment from time to time.
Life felt barely any different from the hell he’d fled.
Ah… he was trapped in a shackle he’d never escape.
And yet, he kept resisting—because he was still alive.
“I’ll take it back.”
He struggled, and struggled, and struggled again.
At the end of endless pain, warmth touched his lips and quenched his thirst.
In a daze, Kaath looked up at her once again.
A woman dressed in pure white.
She was strange.
She didn’t despise him. She didn’t hate him.
The emotions he’d become so used to seeing in people’s eyes—he saw none of that in hers.
In fact, he had been more confused by the way she dozed off inside the carriage.
Then they were briefly separated, and a maid came to guide him elsewhere.
“Here are some clothes to change into. I’ll prepare a bath—just wash and get some sleep.”
The maid spoke curtly.
Her tone carried no emotion at all. Kaath was quietly amazed that even she didn’t show him contempt.
The bath water was warm. The clothes were soft. Even the bed that had been prepared felt cozy.
That comfort felt so foreign to him that he sat on the floor instead.
The rug on the floor was soft enough that it didn’t feel uncomfortable.
This is where I belong.
He wanted to roll up the rug and toss it out, but even touching it felt like a luxury, so he left it alone.
Thanks to that, he thought, he’d finally had a deep sleep for the first time in a while.
Even if he dreamed, it wasn’t a problem—he always had the same dreams anyway.
“You’re like a parasite who only eats and does nothing! Is this all you can do?!”
He killed people. Over and over. Bowed to his half-brother. Watched that brother ascend to the throne.
In the dream, he looked like someone who had forgotten who he was. So he repeated it to himself, again and again.
My name is Kaath. Kaath. Kaath.
Even now, it was the same.
He mouthed his name silently, as if that were the only way to hold on to it.
Clack.
The door opened, and she walked in.
In the middle of their conversation, she had suddenly suggested breakfast.
It was so random that Kaath thought it might be a code word.
But it wasn’t.
“My lady, please stop giving him all your food. You won’t have anything left for yourself.”
“There’s plenty of food. I can share. You’re hungry, right? You didn’t eat yesterday either. Have this too.”
The maid looked like she was glaring at him.
Kaath, awkwardly gripping the cutlery, ate. He smelled fresh-baked bread and rich butter.
He heard the two women’s voices, mildly bickering.
Her short laugh.
It was a peaceful morning.
No one hit him.
It felt as though he had finally become part of something normal. An extravagant luxury.
“A million runes, right?”
He impulsively brought up the price she had paid for him. She’d said it was proof of her love.
“I’ll repay it. I’m good at anything that involves my body.”
She had promised to help him get revenge on the people who ruined his life.
Did he still hate them enough for revenge?
Maybe when he was younger. Now, his emotions were so worn out by life, they had faded.
He hadn’t said this aloud because deep down, he wanted her to keep hating them on his behalf.
“Hmm, then maybe I should check if you’re really only good at physical stuff.”
“My lady!”
The maid, imagining something inappropriate, raised her voice, horrified.
But it was just a plain question that followed.
“Do you remember my name? I told you.”
It was a memory test.
“……”
Kaath stayed silent for a long time.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall it.
Eventually, she spoke for him.
“Linaria Obel.”
“……”
“You can call me Liri. That’s easier to remember, right?”
Liri.
Kaath repeated the name silently to himself, over and over.
“Oh, right. I’ll take off your choker.”
The slave choker was a magical artifact that delivered punishment the moment an order was disobeyed.
It was a perfect shackle, made to ensure absolute obedience.
“Lower your head a little.”
No sane person would remove the choker from a slave they’d paid a fortune for—unless they were obscenely rich.
But Linaria reached for it without hesitation.
Kaath felt her touch at the back of his neck. Just like the warmth he remembered from her lips the day before.
Overwhelmed by a ticklish feeling, Kaath placed his hand on hers.
And then—
Click.
The choker she had just removed—he fastened it again.
“Kaath?”
“I want to be yours.”
If he couldn’t have complete freedom, he wanted to belong to her.
Kaath, still looking into her red eyes, pressed a kiss to the soft palm of her hand.
It was a pledge—proof that he belonged to her.
“Don’t take it off.”
Even if she removed this collar, he would only put it back on again.
And if she disappeared, he would follow her—no matter if it meant going back into hell.
He didn’t know what a million runes of emotion felt like.
But he knew feelings could get heavier or lighter, anytime.
The moment that million turned into zero—he knew he’d return to hell.
“Do you even realize what you’ve just done?”
Kaath nodded.
Then, with his eyes downcast, he kissed her palm again, as if stamping a seal.
He wanted to be hers.
Because if he belonged to her, even if his emotions dried up, she wouldn’t discard him so easily.
“I like the way you say my name. Keep calling it.”
So I won’t forget who I am.
Had anyone ever called him by his name instead of vermin or trash?
As far as he could remember, no one had.
Even the mother who carried him for ten months had only named him—she never called him by it.
And in the end, she sold him for ten thousand runes. He’d never see her again.
He waited, hoping she would say his name again, when the warm white hand he held slipped away.
Then, she brought up something completely out of the blue.
“By the way, do you know how to use a sword? You said you were good with your body, so I assume you’re not completely clueless.”
“A little.”
“A little’s not good enough.”
“More than a little.”
Afraid she’d be disappointed, he corrected himself quickly.
Linaria looked pensive for a moment, then turned to Anna.
“Anna, after breakfast, can you sneak Kaath out without anyone seeing?”
“Yes, of course. I can—”
“You’re throwing me away?”
Kaath abruptly cut her off, the shock plain on his face.
Creak.
He stood up and dropped to his knees on the floor.
Before Linaria could even ask what he was doing, he began crawling toward her.
“If you want me to bark, I’ll bark. If you want me to crawl, I’ll crawl. You can hit me, stomp on me—do whatever you want. I won’t ask you to call my name anymore.”
It hurt when he was beaten. That’s why he’d run away. And yet here he was, begging to be hurt.
Because being trampled and broken was the only worth he knew in himself.
He didn’t know any other way to beg.
“I’ll do anything you say. So please…”
Kaath reached out with trembling fingers and grasped her smooth, pale hand—so unlike his own.
“Don’t throw me away.”
And like a young, wounded animal, he rubbed his cheek against her hand.
