Chapter 88

A low voice whispered in my ear.

A chill ran from my cheek down my neck, and the fine hairs on my skin stood on end.

I spoke in a daze.

“…I just thought of a new clause to add to our contract.”

“What is it?”

“No flirting when we’re alone.”

“Did I get to you?”

“…Stop talking nonsense and get out of here.”

“That’s harsh for my birthday.”

“I told you, it’s not my birthday today… Wait, hold on, are you talking about yourself? Is it your birthday today?”

I asked in surprise, and Dante just shrugged nonchalantly.

“Yes.”

“Then why are you here? Aren’t you having a party or something?”

“I loathe noisy gatherings.”

I felt like I’d heard him say that before—that Igrid was so loud he wanted to kill him.

“Even without a party, there are other fun ways to spend it. Not delivering a cake to your contract lover.”

“Is a birthday a day for having fun?”

That, I wasn’t so sure about.

Having been abandoned on my birthday in my past life, I always celebrated Shinwoo’s, but never my own.

“I suppose so? People usually have fun with friends or family, eat delicious food, exchange gifts… things like that.”

“That’s completely different from the birthdays I know.”

“…What kind of birthdays do you know, Your Highness?”

“A cold day.”

A cold day? What could possibly be cold at this time of year, when summer was just around the corner?

For some reason, it seemed Dante didn’t like his birthday.

*Just like Astell, whose birthday was the anniversary of her mother’s death…*

Leaving me with that cryptic answer, Dante walked over to the window. He promptly threw it open and sat on the sill.

“I’m leaving.”

I don’t know why I did it. The words just slipped out.

“Your Highness!”

Dante looked at me. Backlit by the moonlight, his expression was hard to see.

“Um… would you like some cake?”

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Just go.”

After a long silence, Dante broke into a bright smile.

“Alright.”

He must like sweets. I took out the cake and placed it on the box.

We used teaspoons as our utensils.

It would be a disaster if I got caught trying to go down to the kitchen for forks.

In the darkness, guided only by the full moon, we began scooping bites out of the whole, uncut cake.

“Man, this combination of whipped cream and fruit is incredible.”

“It’s sweet.”

“Hasn’t it been at least half a day since this was made? How is the fruit still so fresh?”

“Too sweet.”

“Look at how moist the sponge is. Jean is a madman. A genius! I really want to recruit him for our guild.”

“It’s sickeningly sweet.”

Dante, who had been repeating how sweet it was, pressed his fingers to his temples.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s so sweet my head hurts.”

“You don’t like sweets?”

“No.”

“Then why did you say you wanted some? You could have just left.”

“Because I wanted to be with you.”

“…I told you not to flirt.”

Despite my grim warning, Dante didn’t even bat an eye.

Then, he suddenly started gently scraping the surface of the cake with his teaspoon, drawing something.

“This is the first time I’ve eaten something like this since I was ten.”

“You shouldn’t play with your food. But the Imperial Palace must be overflowing with things like this. Why haven’t you had any?”

“Jean quit back then.”

“Was the next pastry chef not very good?”

“I’m sure he was fine. You don’t become the imperial pastry chef with ordinary skills.”

“Then why didn’t you eat any?”

“It was a hassle picking out the poisoned ones.”

“…”

“So I didn’t eat them. After a while, I found I couldn’t stomach sweets anymore.”

Was he saying assassination attempts were that frequent?

*This goes way beyond a dysfunctional family.*

There were only two people who would want Dante dead: the Emperor, or the First Prince, Igrid Orton Taikan.

But Dante was the Second Prince, with not a shred of political influence. Nor did he have the support of the nobility.

*So why would they try to poison him?*

I hesitated, at a loss for words.

Just then, Dante’s thumb gently swept across my lips.

“You’ve made a mess again.”

Then, he licked the cream from his thumb.

“Still sweet.”

“…What are you doing right now?”

“What?”

Dante tilted his head, seemingly unaware of what he had just done.

Should I point it out or not? As I debated, he stood up.

“I should go.”

“…Already?”

“I have to be back before midnight.”

“Do you have something to do this late at night?”

Feeling a little disappointed for some reason, I asked. Dante’s eyes narrowed sensuously.

“Should I stay the night?”

“You’re still here? Hurry up and go. And don’t forget to come to the guild tomorrow.”

“It’s a promise with you. How could I forget? See you tomorrow, darling.”

Dante climbed out the window.

*Thud.* The sound of the window closing softly echoed, and silence returned.

In the dark bedroom, I tilted my head.

*It wasn’t a trick of the moonlight. His face was flushed.*

Come to think of it, his body, usually on the cool side, had been burning hot.

“Is he sick?”

He looked fine on the outside… Was I imagining it?

“Right. There’s no way he’d drag his feverish body all the way here.”

I started eating the rest of the cake.

“…What’s wrong with me?”

The cake, which had tasted fantastic just moments ago, suddenly seemed bland.

***

Dante slipped back into the Imperial Palace unnoticed.

As he scaled the wall and set foot on his bedroom balcony, a sigh escaped him.

“Hah…”

His breath was hot. His entire body was simmering with a fever from the whipping the Emperor had given him a couple of days ago.

Dante wiped the sweat trickling down his jaw.

He should have been resting on a day like this, but he had overexerted himself delivering the cake to Astell, and his body was in poor condition.

Of course, it wasn’t unbearable. He was used to pain.

He had been whipped by the Emperor since he was very young, and each time, he would suffer from a fever until the wounds subsided.

By now, he was so accustomed to it that enduring the pain was nothing.

If he made an effort to hide it, no one would ever notice he was sick.

“Who hit you?”

But how had she known?

“I can’t tell if she’s sharp or just clueless.”

Dante pictured Astell’s face as he removed his robe.

His thin shirt, soaked with cold sweat, clung to his broad back.

When he stripped off the damp shirt, the multitude of whip marks covering his back was fully revealed.

He had just tossed the shirt aside and was wiping himself with a towel.

The bedroom door burst open, and the First Prince, Igrid, strode in.

He was a handsome man, as befitting the Emperor’s bloodline.

His soft, gentle-looking dark brown hair and eyes were a mirror image of the Emperor’s.

Thanks to this, he was popular with the opposite sex and was known for his many affairs with noble ladies.

Igrid was proud of that fact.

Though his looks might be slightly inferior to Dante’s, he took pride in the fact that women ultimately preferred him.

Barging into the bedroom without warning, Igrid sat on the sofa.

“Where have you been? Don’t you know today is the purification ritual? You couldn’t have forgotten something we’ve done on your birthday every year…”

He stared at Dante’s back but showed no surprise. As if the wounds were invisible, he continued to prattle on.

“Can’t you hear me? I’m asking where you’ve been at this hour!”

Dante silently wiped the sweat from his body.

As his glistening, muscular physique was revealed under the light, Igrid scowled.

“Are you that desperate to show off that body? You shameless, vulgar brute.”

“I’m going to bathe and then head to the Blue Room, so get out.”

There were two secret spaces in the Imperial Palace.

They were intended as shelters in case of rebellion or war, but the Emperor used them for different purposes.

One was made into the Red Room, where he would punish Dante for his transgressions. The other was the Blue Room.

There, every year on his birthday since he was ten, Dante had to undergo a purification ritual, submerging himself in ice water all night long.

“I hear you’re dating the Mad Princess.”

Dante’s hands, which had been silently changing his clothes, froze.

He turned to Igrid with a blank expression. In response, Igrid’s lips curled into a smirk.

“Judging by your face, it must be true. Do you like her that much?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I was just wondering if you really gave up the guild for that woman. She’s not much to look at.”

Dante’s eyes narrowed. It was a clear look of displeasure.