The Tyrant's Pet



"Take care, alright? Don't worry about anything in here and just make sure to take care of the things you have to protect…!" Conan continuously waved in Isaiah's direction until the door shut closed. The deep lines on the corner of his lips faded, dropping his hand to his side. 

Conan let out a deep exhale. "I don't know why His Majesty allowed him to go, but I guess Haimirich had been in the back of his mind."

Before coming to the Mainland, Tilly left Haimirich her blessing. Still, leaving it without anyone guarding it was dangerous. They could just desert it and start anew, but whether they admit it or not, the empire had been their home. Abel's reason for establishing an empire might have originated from cruelty, but after many years, it was impossible to not have the slightest attachment to it. 

"Ahh… what a bother!" Conan dragged his feet to the divan, throwing himself on it lazily. "Tomorrow night… for some reason, I feel so restless."

Another sigh slipped past Conan's lips, closing his eyes to rest. When he reopened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the high ceiling of his quarters. 

"Fourth…" came out a whisper, having all sorts of flashbacks from when the time he was still a prince of this land, and how he abandoned it.

It was no secret Conan deeply hated his royal blood. The reason for that was personal. Even so, the late Maximus IV was the complete opposite. His brother took their royal duty very seriously, taking everything into great consideration to avoid putting shame on the reputable royal family. 

Maximus's death still until now surprised Conan. Conan knew he shouldn't be because anyone who had taken Abel as their enemy was guaranteed death. Maximus wasn't so naive not to know that. Even if Maximus had devised a grand plan of owning Maleficent, it would take a long time to actually tame this power.

In other words, it didn't make sense to Conan. For him, it was as though Maximus taunted Abel and had done such a grand gesture all for the sake of dying in Abel's hand. 

Why?

Does this have something to do with Maximus's obsession with Abel? Did he think dying in Abel's hands would make the man remember him? 

Impossible. 

"Or was it simpler than that? Am I just over-analyzing what had already happened?" Conan frowned, ending up in a dead end full of questions and uncertainties. "Whatever. I'm better off not using my brain in this place."

*************

Meanwhile…

Miguel's heart had been racing faster than how his steed galloped aimlessly in the capital. He had left Dexter's office without finishing his tea, feeling a little lost after talking to the man.

He clenched his teeth as he pulled up the reins, making the horse skid.

Neigh!

The horse's front feet left the ground, neighing as if that would add more force to stop itself. When the horse came to a full halt, it was just a few steps from a cliff.

"Hah…" Miguel huffed, only realizing he nearly fell from a cliff. His chest moved in and out heavily, gazing at the distant capital from his vantage point. 

Miguel didn't know why or how he ended up in this place, but he wasn't surprised. After riding aimlessly, he could've gotten much farther with his speed. This small hill wasn't that far from the capital.

His gaze veered to the towering royal palace in the middle of the capital. Another deep exhale slipped past Miguel's nostrils while his shoulders relaxed.

[ First, the Grimsbanne and the power of Maleficent. Once these people succeed in ending those I mentioned, who's next? The Mainland will definitely open its forts, not for entry, but to let out the prisoners of this land to conquer every land they step on. You can deny or hide this all you want, but what's rotten will eventually smell. ]

Miguel shut his eyes, breath hitching as Dexter's words crossed his mind once again. He was aware of the main reason he couldn't determine his feelings right now. 

What Dexter spewed so insensitively was nothing but the truth. Facing the truth was always harder than one expected. 

"What are you so scared of, Miguel?" Miguel reopened his eyes, setting his gaze on the towering royal palace from the distance. 

That question was actually Dexter's parting words; what was Miguel so afraid of the truth? 

"If only I know…" whispered Miguel, clenching his teeth that made his jaw tighten. "... I wouldn't have such conflicting feelings."

Another sigh slipped past his lips, shaking his head in an attempt to clear the growing tension in his temple. This matter would be easier if he had someone to blame; it would be easier if the queen and her forces carried unreasonable intentions. But alas, this situation only shows how evil this land and its people were. 

"Just what will you do… if you are in my situation?" he murmured while staring at the royal palace. It was a question he wanted to ask the Queen if he succeeded in meeting her. Miguel wasn't expecting an answer, that was why he jolted when someone answered his question.

"I'd do what I thought was right." His eyes popped open and the tension in his shoulder returned. When he looked back, his eyes instantly landed on the woman two meters behind him.

Giselle slowly lowered the hood over her head to her shoulders. Her eyes were still shut closed, but the way she lifted her chin to face his direction didn't make her feel inferior with her lack of sight.

"What are you doing here?" Miguel's expression turned sour. "Did my father tell you to follow me?"

"Believe me or not, this is my spot. It is the place where I spend my siesta, my Lord." Giselle's tone was as calm and cool as the still lake in the north. "I didn't follow you. If anything, I assume you need my help. Therefore, you are here."

"Nonsense…" Miguel scorned. "I will never seek you even in my most desperate state."

"Then why are you here, my Lord? Do not tell me, you just coincidentally came here. You, the man, who always moves with a clear intention in your mind?" Giselle was unfazed, stressing each word with certainty as if she knew all along Miguel would one day seek her. "You are here because you knew I would be here, Lord Miguel. I had spent many years looking after you. Therefore, there is no need to deny it."

Her plain countenance slowly grew stern. "Now that you realize the Queen is unstoppable, are you here to beg me to retreat, my Lord?"