"So you're Lord Honest's son? Well now, what a small world. Lord Honest and I had quite the pleasant chat not long ago~"
Lancer's sudden shift in tone stunned everyone present.
Especially Leone, curled up in a corner trying to make herself invisible—she stared at him in disbelief.
When he had first bought her, she'd been terrified. But after living together for some time, her image of him had slowly changed. He was quiet, spent most of his days training with his lance, yet treated her—his so‑called slave—with unexpected gentleness. He never forced her to do anything excessive. Though she had never said it aloud, she'd grown fond of him.
And now, it felt like that fragile illusion had shattered.
After his initial surprise, Syura's face twisted into a delighted grin.
"Haha! So you're one of Father's friends? That's wonderful~"
Seeing the expression on the blonde girl's face filled him with a sick thrill. Before, he'd only wanted to "try something new." Now, he wanted to break her—completely. Only then would his humiliation be washed away. And if he could crush that other woman too, even better.
"Since you're Father's friend, this is easy~ How about lending me that slave for a little fun? I'll make sure to put in a good word for you before Father~"
And once you're no longer useful, I'll have you killed.
Though he appeared casual and familiar on the surface, Syura had already sentenced Lancer to death in his heart. Dragging him across the ground earlier was a capital offense.
His earlier panic had been driven by lust and Esdeath's killing intent. Now that he'd regained his composure, he carried himself far more in line with his status. In the Empire, requesting a slave from an acquaintance was hardly unusual.
"Young Master Syura…"
The smile never left Lancer's face, but his voice dropped.
The warmth vanished from his eyes.
"You should be heading home. I'm sure Lord Honest would be concerned about your safety, wouldn't he?"
He was smiling—but there wasn't a trace of humor in his gaze. The killing intent in his eyes rivaled—no, far surpassed—even Esdeath's.
Syura froze.
Like a mouse caught under a cat's stare, he couldn't move.
...
In the end, Syura left under Shuten's support.
He'd understood perfectly well. The only reason this man was being polite was because of his father—and nothing more. The naked contempt and murderous intent in those eyes hadn't been concealed at all. Fearing he might push too far and lose his life, Syura swallowed his fury, cursed inwardly, and retreated.
He might be a rabid hound—but even a rabid hound knows the value of its own life.
Lancer said nothing further. Instead, he bent down and lifted Leone to her feet.
She kept her head lowered, silent.
"Are you hurt?"
"…"
She didn't answer. She only shook her head.
Then suddenly, the trembling girl threw herself against his armor. At first her body merely quivered—but when Lancer gently placed a hand on her head, whatever thread of control she had snapped.
"I was so scared! I was so scared you'd give me to that man!"
Leone clung to him, sobbing openly.
For a moment, Lancer didn't know what to say.
He wanted to tell her he would never do such a thing. He despised the very concept of slavery. Even her status meant nothing to him—he regarded her more as a hired maid than anything else.
But he had underestimated her fear.
Or perhaps her sense of inferiority.
In her mind, she was just a slum-born thief—an insignificant existence. The other party, meanwhile, was clearly the son of someone at the very top of the Empire. By all logic, her fate should have been obvious.
The terror, the despair—and then the abrupt reversal—had been too much. Even she didn't know whether the tears now soaking his armor were remnants of fear or relief.
She only knew she had no other way to let it out.
Lancer, who once prided himself on "understanding women" (limited strictly to dating sims), found himself completely at a loss.
He glanced toward Esdeath, seeking help—then immediately looked away. She would have no idea how to handle this. Understanding Leone's thoughts or offering comfort simply wasn't in her nature.
But what Lancer didn't realize was that although Esdeath's expression appeared indifferent—
"Crying solves nothing. Instead of crying here, you should think about what you're going to do next."
After saying that, Esdeath turned and walked away.
"Wait."
"What is it?"
"Thank you."
"…No need. I didn't save her. That scum's words irritated me. That's all."
She didn't slow down again.
Watching her retreating figure, Lancer said nothing more. He carried Leone back into the villa. As for the damaged alleyway, the Imperial Police would handle it.
Since he didn't know how to comfort her, Lancer summoned Aru instead.
The moment Aru appeared, it looked around warily. Once it confirmed those troublesome children weren't nearby, it visibly relaxed. But seeing the bedroom, it tilted its head in confusion—clearly wondering why it had been summoned.
Lancer jerked his chin toward Leone.
Smart as ever, Aru glanced at the sniffling girl, then padded over and gently rubbed its cheek against her.
"Wah—!"
The tears surged anew.
Seized suddenly, Aru found itself crushed against Leone's chest. It shot Lancer a helpless look and stretched out both front paws.
The meaning was obvious.
Ten dried fish.
Though he knew Aru was taking advantage of the situation, Lancer had no mood to bargain. Seeing Leone's shoulders still shaking, he simply nodded.
Satisfied, Aru began meowing softly, coaxing her the way it used to comfort crying children back in the village. It was well practiced. Once Leone's breathing gradually steadied, Lancer quietly withdrew to the living room.
Sitting on the sofa with his arms crossed, he began considering something else—
How should he deal with that piece of trash?
Kill him outright? It'd be difficult...
Wait.
Perhaps this was an opportunity...
---
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