“If you get on your knees and beg me to remove my foot, I’ll consider it,” Ail said, his tone dripping with arrogance.

Ruth shot him a defiant glare and replied, “I’m already doing that.”

“Still so insolent,” Ail muttered before grabbing a handful of Ruth’s long hair and yanking it hard. The force made Ruth feel as though his hair might be ripped out entirely.

“Please… let go. It hurts,” Ruth pleaded, his eyes brimming with tears from the pain. But Ail’s gaze remained cold and emotionless, devoid of any hint of compassion.

Instinctively, Ruth shrank back. The Ail who wore his charming mask was manageable, even amusing at times. But the Ail now before him, stripped of pretense, was a source of terror.

“Just because I sleep with anyone I want doesn’t mean you can do the same. At least wait quietly until our relationship is officially concluded.”

“I’ll be more careful. So please… let me go.”

At last, Ail released Ruth’s hair and lifted his foot from his injured hand. Ruth glanced at the blood pooling on the floor and reached with his left hand to remove the glass shard embedded in his palm. But before he could, Ail grabbed his arm, yanked him upright, and pulled him onto his lap, wrapping an arm tightly around Ruth’s waist.

“If we’re playing at lovers fighting and reconciling, this is the proper way to do it,” Ail said with a smirk before calling out, “Meril.”

The door opened, and Meril entered. His face turned crimson upon seeing Ruth in Ail’s arms, and he quickly bowed his head.

“You called, Your Highness?”

“Summon a physician. Commander Kaizel has injured his hand.”

“Understood.”

“The room is a mess. Have the physician meet us in the next room.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Be quick about it,” Ail ordered.

As Meril left, Ail glanced at Ruth’s bloodied hand, clicking his tongue as he examined it.

“It’s deeply embedded. I hope it hasn’t damaged a tendon.”

Ruth bit back the urge to retort, wondering how Ail could be so nonchalant about a wound he himself had caused. Instead, Ruth focused on his breathing, trying to calm himself as he reached out with his left hand again, this time to remove the glass. Ail beat him to it, pulling the shard out without a hint of care.

“Ah!” Ruth let out a small cry, his eyes welling with tears from the sharp pain. The moment the shard was removed hurt even more than when it had gone in, and blood flowed freely from the now-open wound.

“This is troublesome,” Ail murmured with casual indifference. “Injuring your right hand like this…”

Then, as if to soothe the pain, Ail pressed a kiss to the corner of Ruth’s tear-filled eyes.

“It’ll be treated soon, so bear with it a little longer,” Ail said softly, his tone suddenly gentle and kind, as though comforting an injured lover.

It was this abrupt shift in demeanor that almost brought Ruth to tears—not the pain of his wound, nor his fear of Ail. No, it was the illusion of tenderness in Ail’s actions, a pretense that Ruth hated himself for succumbing to every time.

He clenched his lips shut and lowered his head, using the pain as an excuse to hide his expression.

Once again, he reminded himself: This kindness is false. Don’t think too deeply about it. Never let yourself be swayed by him.

To do so would only lead to ruin.

After receiving treatment for his injured right hand, Ruth took the medicine prescribed by the physician and unintentionally fell asleep. The painkiller, which doubled as a sedative, worked effectively. When Ruth finally woke up, he found himself in the adjoining room to Ail’s bedroom, surrounded by faint candlelight illuminating the deep darkness. Still groggy from the medication, he opened his eyes, only to be greeted by a sharp pain radiating from his right palm, making him wince.

Lifting his hand, he saw it wrapped in a clean white bandage. He vaguely remembered the physician cleaning the wound, treating it, and warning him not to use his right hand for a while.

“Go back to sleep,” a cold voice ordered.

Ruth turned toward the source and saw Ail seated in a chair beside the bed, casually reading through correspondence. Alarmed, Ruth quickly sat up.

“My apologies. I’ll return to my room.”

“Stay here. You won’t be able to work for a while anyway,” Ail replied flatly.

With his right hand in such a state, wielding a sword or even managing paperwork would indeed be difficult. Still, Ruth reasoned that he could delegate tasks to a secretary and continue issuing instructions. This was no time to idly rest with so much work to do. Resolving to leave, Ruth began to climb out of bed, but Ail cut him off again, his tone firm.

“Lie down. One night won’t hurt.”

“I’m uncomfortable staying here,” Ruth protested.

“That’s an order. Lie down and sleep,” Ail commanded without so much as glancing at him.

Annoyed, Ruth scowled but reluctantly lay back down. To his surprise, the bed was unusually comfortable. It was only then that he noticed his clothes had been changed into a sleeping gown.

“The attendants changed them. Your clothes were bloodstained,” Ail said, almost as if reading Ruth’s mind. “Now sleep.”

His tone left no room for argument, and the atmosphere made it clear there would be no further conversation. Ruth closed his eyes. The lingering effects of the sedative dragged him swiftly back into unconsciousness.

Once Ail finished reading his letter, he lit it on fire and tossed the burning paper into the fireplace. Letting out a heavy sigh, he turned back toward the bed. There, he found Ruth fast asleep, his face serene. A wry smile crossed Ail’s lips.

“He fell asleep while I was still reading,” Ail mused. Despite how terrified Ruth often seemed when Ail revealed his true nature, the man still had moments of complete vulnerability.

Thinking back, Ail realized it was this duality that had drawn him to Ruth from the start. Unlike the dependable and stoic Kamiel, Ruth had an honesty about him—he couldn’t lie convincingly and always reacted to pressure in extremes. Push him hard, and he would resist fiercely. Show him kindness, and he would crumble into submission. That contrast had always intrigued Ail. Ruth was entertaining, a perfect plaything.

As he gazed down at Ruth’s sleeping face, Ail reached out, brushing aside the soft strands of hair that fell over Ruth’s features. The silky texture against his fingers stirred a sense of desire. Ruth, with his delicate features, slender frame, and a fragility that made him look smaller than he truly was, evoked a mix of protectiveness and longing.

Despite being eight years Ail’s senior and taller until just last year, Ruth had always seemed diminutive and fragile to him. Ail recalled their first hunting tournament vividly—the way Ruth had turned his eyes away from the dead deer, unable to bear the sight. It had been bewildering, even amusing, but also fascinating.

Perhaps that was why he had pulled Ruth into his orbit in the first place. Back then, Ruth’s pity for the weaker Ail had likely motivated him to stay.

Ail’s lips tightened as he remembered the moment Ruth had told him he wanted to leave. It had caught him off guard. On one hand, it was an ideal scenario—Ruth’s departure would resolve their relationship cleanly without Ail having to dirty his hands. He could even use the opportunity to pressure Ruth’s family, the Kaizel household. Yet, strangely, Ail found himself unwilling to let him go.

Perhaps it was simply anger. Anger that Ruth had dared to betray his will. And when Ruth had said he wanted to leave with Elsen of all people, it had been infuriating enough for Ail to lash out destructively. That outburst, Ail admitted, was a result of his youth and inexperience in controlling his emotions.

Despite his composed exterior, Ail often struggled to suppress his rage when things didn’t go as planned. Ruth, after all, had always obeyed him. Until recently. Lately, Ruth had begun showing signs of defiance, testing boundaries. Ail found that intolerable.

“You’re far too insolent,” Ail muttered, though a grin tugged at his lips. Ruth’s fiery defiance and sharp glares were oddly captivating. Even more so when those walls crumbled the moment Ail treated him gently. The contrast only added to the thrill.

The relationship would end eventually, Ail thought, but until then, Ruth would remain his. Perhaps, before their time was up, Ail might even indulge in making the rumors surrounding them a reality.

“Letting him go without ever claiming him would be a disgrace,” Ail thought, laughing softly at his own lecherous musings.

Finally, Ail pulled the blanket up over Ruth’s chest, ensuring he was comfortable, and turned to leave the room.