Bermuda

'Why does it sound like he said it reluctantly?'

Leonardo lay flat on the leather sofa, his hands folded on his stomach, wiggling his toes. Despite his not-so-small stature, the ample space above and below suggested that the sofa was as large as its owner.

The bangs that had been poking his eyes were now swept back with the rest of his hair, sprawled messily on the mahogany leather seat. His rounded forehead revealed the curved eyebrows clearly beneath. They occasionally furrowed slightly as he recalled the recent situation.

Reflecting on Hugo's last words before he left a few minutes ago, Leonardo couldn't deny feeling somewhat bitter. The main reason was likely that he couldn't sense sincerity in the other's voice. It felt different from when he had sworn by his name before.

That oath, which had come like a ray of light through prison bars, had a strange power to make him want to believe it, despite their not-so-good relationship at the time. The conviction in those blue eyes had struck him so strongly that he had grasped the offered hand of his own accord.

In contrast, just now, he seemed to be trying to hide his precarious inner thoughts rather than showing confidence in his words.

"I'll even pluck the stars from the night sky for you... something like that, huh?"

Leonardo muttered with an expressionless face.

Staking everything to set him free, he said. It felt no different from the empty flattery that occasionally came from inadequate fellows trying to court him.

Of course, he knew that Agrizendro's concern and care for him was genuine. But the momentary hesitation he’d felt in his fingertips seemed like a white lie—promising something he knew he couldn't keep.

Although he thought the bond they had built was not insignificant, there was no way he could stake everything for him. In fact, he hadn't even expected that much. It would be comforting to believe it naively. However, the instincts he had honed while rolling in the mud cynically warned him not to be deceived.

'So in the end, I shouldn't think it's safe here either.'

Leonardo sat up at once and stared at the large windows lined up on the right.

The blood-red sunset invading the room came into view. The elongated sunlight flickered over his discarded shoes.

It wouldn't be strange if someone came through those wide-open windows and strangled him right now. Leonardo put on his shoes, approached the window, checked behind it, and began closing them one by one.

The scene he had witnessed in the plaza was still vivid in his mind. The feeling of his lungs constricting was getting worse.

'What on earth did that mean?'

The bizarre scene—like chess pieces deliberately lined up for display. Suddenly encountering a situation that seemed more fitting for wartime came as a great shock.

At first, he wanted to believe it was just the monarch's boundless generosity, controlling the roads for the safe return of his daughter and son who had succeeded in subjugating the peninsula.

But the 'him' he knew was definitely not that kind of person. Especially if the secret of the peninsula leaked by Alec Siles contained a truth that threatened the legitimacy of the imperial family's lineage.

If the imperial family had been 'neglecting' the peninsula all this time, and if the existence of 'Elder Millie' was about to bring the myth of the first emperor to the surface, the imperial family would not be very pleased with the return of the Council, which had finally dug into the truth of the peninsula.

Then who was that spectacle really for?

Leonardo stared blankly out the closed window, feeling a tightness around his neck.

Below, Council members and medical teams were bustling about. However, in the shadows reflected in his golden eyes, only Imperial Knights and guards swarmed.

"Haa..."

Even though he knew it was a hallucination, he felt like his legs might give out again, just like when he got out of the car. Leonardo drew the thick curtains and turned his back on the window.

He leaned against the window frame at an angle and, without realizing it, slid down. He slumped onto the deep blue carpet with a sigh.

Resting his arms on his knees with a dazed expression, he buried all ten fingers in his hair.

His mouth and mind muttered anxiously, like a chant, trying to calm the confusion inside him.

'He fears me. He won't come looking for me now. What would he gain from this? What on earth does he intend by provoking me?'

Sitting on the floor where the cold was rising, his body shivered. His pride chided him, saying it was because he'd come to a relatively cool place after being on the hot peninsula.

But the anxiety that had been lingering since earlier began to numb his hands and feet, as if eating away at his body and mind. Leonardo scratched the back of his hand as if clawing at it, his nails digging in even as sensation started to fade.

The sole absolute ruler of the current era, who reigned like a god in Aurasion, located at the center of Carseil Palace, hidden in the innermost part of the gold-covered imperial city, dominating the throne of Raina Logia.

He 'outwardly' doesn't seek what he has once discarded. He believes that keeping a tainted existence by his side would mar his sacred authority.

Moreover, to demonstrate his absolute power, he periodically eliminates the 'discarded ones'. He instills fear in foolish people, saying they too could be discarded, and rules the empire with loyalty bordering on faith.

So, following that logic, on that day three years ago, he should have died as soon as the trial ended. But his discarded life was still intact.

But what if, as an extension of that twisted logic, 'he' were to change his mind and officially seek him out?

...Even with an absurd pretext, just one gesture from him would make those who worship the sun move quickly to target his life. Could he dare to be certain that Agrizendro, the head of the imperial faction, wouldn't be among them?

"..."

Absolutely not. Leonardo suddenly realized where his unexpected distrust of Hugo was coming from. How his eyes had looked, how hesitation had been felt in his fingertips—none of that really mattered. It was just a convenient excuse.

He was just feeling a sense of disconnect. Unlike him, Hugo was a man with much to lose. If Agrizendro were to weigh Leonardo Blaine against his own political beliefs, it was obvious which way the scales would tip without even looking.

'Conversely, I also prioritize my own beliefs.'

In the end, his inability to be certain of Hugo's oath was because he had already drawn his own conclusion.

Realizing the reason left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was contradictory to expect the other to prioritize him while he himself had his own priorities set.

Leonardo faced his own disgusting true face—distrusting Hugo while hiding in a place filled with his scent, and simultaneously feeling uncomfortable about it. Of all things, what flashed through his memory at that moment was the night «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» of the brief victory celebration. The question Cordelia had asked.

'Blaine, do you trust His Excellency?'

He seemed to understand now why he couldn't answer immediately then.

Agrizendro is the Emperor's loyal servant. Although he knew their relationship wasn't that of an ordinary lord and vassal, his bond with Hugo was so fragile and precarious compared to that relationship that it could break at any time.

Even while realizing this reality, his mind wavered again and again—between feeling he shouldn't rely on him and wanting to believe in him.

'Still... he said he was worried I might get hurt. And earlier, he angrily said he wouldn't put handcuffs on me.'

Leonardo's gaze, which had been wandering restlessly through the air, sought out the handcuffs—the basis of his trust—as if looking for something to hold on to.

He remembered that Agrizendro had roughly put them down somewhere earlier. Then he saw one side of the heavy handcuffs precariously dangling from beneath the side table that had caught his eye.

Leonardo got up from the floor, supporting himself with trembling arms and legs. He dragged his staggering body and soon reached the side table.

As he unconsciously caught the handcuffs before they could fall, an unpleasant sensation of mana being sucked in spread across his palm. It wasn't a good feeling, but just the fact that he wasn't wearing them now calmed the swirling anxiety, and he could immediately tell who he should trust.

"Ha... Right, no unnecessary thoughts."

'First, I need to rely on that person and recover my body.'

The almost only person trying to give him freedom. Doubting him despite witnessing his struggles up close was no different from throwing himself into a lonely abyss. He persuaded himself that he had to believe—even in false oaths—not just the handcuffs, but the time they had spent together. Organizing his thoughts this way, his rough breathing began to steady.

It seemed he had been momentarily shaken because too many things had happened in a short time. As he put away the delusions that had been growing, the chilling cold sank back below the floor.

The trembling in his shoulders and hands that he hadn't even noticed also subsided considerably. Leonardo set the handcuffs on the side table and turned back toward the sofa.

Flynn would be coming here soon, and he was at a loss for how to explain the wounds that had just appeared on the back of his hand.

"Damn, it's going to sting when I wash my hands."

It was inexplicable why he always fell into pointless self-harm when overwhelmed by anxiety, unable to think straight. Even as he grumbled, carefully touching his scratched skin, Leonardo's steps suddenly halted.

'Wait a minute, but.'

He looked back at the side table and then down at the hand that had just touched the handcuffs.

"...Was this always how it felt?"

After clenching and unclenching his palm several times, he picked up the handcuffs again.

A strange sense of powerlessness immediately rose in his fingertips. However, unlike what he remembered, the degree of suction was very uniform. Leonardo furrowed his brows and concentrated.

It was natural that the sensations felt different for each mana control restraint due to the varying makeup of mana stones. In other words, it wasn't strange that the control power from these handcuffs felt much weaker and more stable than some of the restraints he had worn on his wrists since being brought to the Council.

But why, at this moment—like an extension of earlier—did Alec Siles' words come to mind?

As Leonardo stared at the red mana stone embedded in the surface of the handcuffs, he rummaged through the inner pocket of the combat uniform he was wearing. Eventually, he found the artifact he had organized before leaving Fidele and took out a small piece of paper he had stuffed into a corner, unfolding it with one hand.

Quickly scanning it with his eyes, skipping unnecessary greetings, he soon found the part he wanted. It was a hypothesis about his control instability.

The guy had thought that his collar was the problem behind his control instability, but if it wasn't, he guessed there must be some other cause. And among the new possibilities he suggested, there were clearly 'handcuffs'.

[If there was no such problem before wearing the handcuffs]

His golden eyes narrowed. Alec Siles had clearly told him this:

[The only conclusion is that the handcuffs you wore were strange.]