Chapter 18: The Grand Duke Returns Home Empty-Handed (1)

The welcoming ball ended without anyone dying.

What a shame.

Not that I meant it seriously, of course. I was not some bloodthirsty madman who needed corpses scattered about to feel entertained. That would be terribly uncouth. If one wanted to create a scene, one must know the difference between a spectacle and a slaughterhouse.

A spectacle had artistry but a slaughterhouse had cleanup.

I despised unnecessary cleanup.

Still, there was something mildly dissatisfying about returning from the imperial palace with the vial of Vita’s Tears still resting peacefully inside the spatial mechanism of my ring. I had purchased the deadliest poison known to the empire, endured the suffocating perfumes of the court, tolerated the fluttering vultures called noblewomen, and even listened to the emperor’s speech without yawning in public.

And for what?

Just a conversation.

A rather interesting conversation, yes, but a conversation all the same.

How unproductive.

Or at least, that was what I would have said if I were a lesser man incapable of appreciating long-term investments.

Fortunately, I was me.

The carriage rolled through the Capital’s upper district beneath the veil of night.

Outside the window, the city glittered in that vain way the Capital loved so much. Magical lamps lined the streets, casting warm gold over white stone roads, sculpted fountains, and flowerbeds arranged too perfectly to be natural. Even the shadows here looked curated.

How pretentious.

Abi sat across from me, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who did very little aside from laugh at my predicament the whole evening. His violet robes shimmered faintly in the carriage lantern’s light, still exuding that aggravating otherworldly elegance that made him look like a painting some deranged artist would title The Beautiful Disaster.

It suited him too much. It was irritating.

"You are sulking," he said.

"I am only contemplating. You’re reading too much into it."

"You have been staring out the window like a rejected lover since we left the palace."

"I have never been rejected."

"Is that because no one has tried?"

"It is because no one with proper eyesight would."

Abi stared at me for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Your confidence is truly one of the wonders of this realm."

"It is not confidence if it is factual."

"Then your shamelessness, perhaps."

"I prefer it to be called accuracy."

He leaned back against the seat, his amethyst eyes bright with that same destructive curiosity I had learned to dread.

"So, tell me, brother. Did you enjoy your first grand villainous outing?"

I turned to him with a smile.

"Abi."

"Yes?"

"I still have not ruled out the lamp."

"You would not."

"Trust me, I would."

"Might I remind you, I am your brother."

"A rather unfortunate circumstance."

He clutched his chest as if mortally wounded.

"Cruel. After I so generously assisted you tonight."

"You mean after you laughed at me, teased me about saving a lady, and called the Crown Prince an imperial puppy at least seven times?"

"I also created privacy barriers."

"That is the only reason you are still seated here with me comfortably."

Abi’s grin widened. "Then I have contributed greatly."

I did not reply. It would only encourage him.

The carriage continued down the wide avenue. At this hour, most respectable nobles had either returned to their estates or were still lingering in the palace, draining the night of its last drops of gossip.

The truly ambitious ones would likely hold smaller private gatherings after the official ball, where alliances were whispered over wine and promises were traded with smiles sharper than daggers.

The Capital never slept during festivities. It merely changed masks.

I should have attended one of those after-parties if I truly intended to gather information quickly. Unfortunately, my patience for the evening had been thoroughly murdered by flowers, politics, and Abi.

Mostly Abi.

Besides, I had already gained enough.

The Crown Prince was not the hollow ornament the court wanted him to appear as. That much was clear. He was cautious, observant, and very much aware that the throne he was meant to inherit was surrounded by hands eager to steer it.

Whether he had the spine to resist those hands, however, remained to be seen.

But his uncertainty was useful. His desperation even more so.

The palace likely thought Sonomi would remain an indifferent, distant power throughout the coronation. That was the most convenient assumption. It let them pretend the East was an old beast asleep beyond the desert, too far away and too arrogant to involve itself.

They were not entirely wrong.

Sonomi did prefer to be left alone just as I preferred to be left alone. The issue, however, was that I had come to the Capital with the intention of causing trouble. And then that golden puppy had gone and made himself interesting before I could properly poison him.

How inconsiderate.

"He is sick, you know," Abi suddenly said.

My thoughts halted.

I turned my gaze from the window to the Jinn.

"Who?"

Abi gave me a look. "The one you keep calling future of the empire in that sinister little tone of yours."

"The Crown Prince?"

"Yes, the puppy."

"I told you not to call him that where others can hear."

"No one can hear."

"That is not the point."

"Then yes. Him."

I narrowed my eyes. "Explain."

Abi tilted his head, as if searching for the best way to translate something obvious to his kind into words my poor human mind could understand. I did not appreciate that look. It was the same expression one might have while explaining to a child why fire was hot.

"I did not notice at first because humans are constantly leaking all sorts of unattractive things. Mana, aura, emotions, greed, fear, bad intentions. It makes you all very noisy."

"How flattering."

"But when he stood closer in the gallery, I felt it." Abi tapped his own chest lightly.

"Something is wrong with his life force. It is not weak exactly. It is suppressed. Twisted, perhaps. There is vitality in him, but it is being restrained by something old and stubborn."

I stilled. That was... unexpected.

"Are you saying he is cursed?"

"Maybe. Poisoned, perhaps. Or he has something sealed within that is sapping his vitality out. I cannot say with certainty without prying deeper."

"And you did not? You’re not the type to hold back just bacause we are around human royalty."

Abi scoffed. "In the imperial palace? With those old warding formations scratched into the stone? I may be powerful, brother, but I am not brainless. If I probed too deeply, the palace dogs would have started howling."

I leaned back in my seat, fingers tapping against my knee.

The Crown Prince was sick.

No, not visibly. He did not look sick enough for the court to know openly. He had danced well and walked with steadiness. His complexion was healthy enough beneath the chandelier light. Even his breathing had been controlled.

Or maybe even he doesn’t know of his own affliction.

But if Abi was correct, and unfortunately he was often correct when it came to matters of power, then His Highness had an underlying condition hidden beneath all that imperial polish.

The vial of Vita’s Tears suddenly felt heavier against my finger.

It was a poison that overfed vitality into the body for people who were thriving with life.

And here we have a prince whose vitality was suppressed.

Hah.

No. Absolutely not.

I could already hear the suspicious drums of fate beating from afar.

I refused to believe fate itself would play me like that.

No sane villain would accidentally heal his target with the poison he painstakingly purchased to ruin him.

That would be absurd. Ridiculous. Downright humiliating.

It would be such a narrative disaster that even third-rate web novel readers would throw their devices across the room.

I would never allow such a thing.

"Your face is doing something funny again," Abi said.

"You’re imagining it."

"I am not. You look as if you swallowed a bite of steak and found it badly seasoned."

"Be quiet. I am thinking."

"About how the poison may not poison him?"

I slowly looked at him. Abi’s smile widened with unbearable delight.

"Brother, could it be? You really were thinking that?"

"Do not annoy me any further, Abi."

"Heh. Could it be that your sinister poison is actually, possibly the cure? We’d need confirmation but the odds are quite high isn’t it?"

"I said stop."

"How beautiful."

"Abi."

"What poetic justice that would be."

"Abinatha."

"The villain lord strikes again, saving another poor soul with murderous intent."

I closed my eyes.

Ah, patience.

Patience was a virtue.

It was the thin, golden chain preventing me from lunging across the carriage and testing if a Jinn could be strangled with his own robes.

Important things need to be said thrice.

Patience. Patience. Patience.

When I opened my eyes again, my smile was immaculate.

"Abi, my dear brother."

He perked up. "Yes?"

"Do you enjoy the food in my estate?"

"Oh very much. I’ve had quite the taste for it these days. Do commend your chef for me." 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"Well, do you wish to continue eating it?"

His expression finally shifted.

Some intelligence returned to that senile brain of his. At this point, it doesn’t matter whether he’s a powerful being or not.

"Your threat is petty," he said.

"As long as it is effective."