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***

"What a joyful day indeed," Oscar said with a smile as he handed a glass of wine over to Cárcel, who gave him a polite bow.

"Your Highness." Cárcel briefly peered over Oscar's shoulder with an icy gaze as Alicia drifted past, looking completely pure and innocent as she smiled at another noblewoman. He discreetly checked to see if she was headed toward Inés, acting as if he was casually scanning the hall, then turned his attention back to Oscar.

"Only twenty-four, and you are already Captain," Oscar mused.

"My heart is still much too humble for that title, I'm afraid."

Oscar waved his hand in dismissal. "No need. It's not as if you bribed your way into it."

"Undeniably, His Majesty has shown some degree of favoritism toward me, his own nephew. I fear I will be feeling quite humble for a while." It was a clever way to mask the test that he had been forced to endure as mere favoritism from the emperor.

Hearing this, Oscar's elegant smile twisted slightly. "If that were the case, your father-in-law wouldn't have turned the Imperial Council upside down."

Cárcel's voice remained nonchalant as he responded, "As you may know, His Grace cares deeply for Inés. I'm sure he was only worried that his son-in-law would be harmed in battle."

"Indeed," Oscar muttered under his breath. "He has always been overprotective."

"Respectfully, Your Highness, I think it makes sense that he cares for her so much."

"It seems like you haven't been subjected to Luciano just yet. Somehow, his worry for his sister burns even brighter than his father's..." Oscar's gaze slid away from Cárcel and found Luciano, who was standing by Duke Valeztena some distance away. He scoffed and continued, "I thought that pest would continue to keep an eye on his sister until the day she got married, considering just how infamous you were. As for you... while you always act indifferent, that is not the case, is it?" When his eyes slowly drifted back to Cárcel, they were cold and sinister, almost reptilian.

Cárcel remained silent.

"If you were truly as kind, loyal, and malleable as my mother always made you out to be, you would have died for me when I deemed it necessary," Oscar continued. "Whether that was in your tiny manor, Admiral Calderon's hunting grounds, in El Ledequilla, in Esposa... or back when you were a foolish six-year-old, chasing after Inés like a dog." He regarded Cárcel like a disgusting insect that was still crawling around after being stomped on, all the while nonchalantly confessing to how he had tried to murder Cárcel.

Memories flashed through Cárcel's head-he recalled the attack at the military academy and the poisoning in Esposa ten years ago. Then there was the terrible incident from back when he was only six years old, one that had been regarded as nothing more than a common rumor among nobles without any responsibility being assigned... They had all been orchestrated by Oscar. Cárcel clenched his jaw silently, realizing that Oscar had been trying to kill him for quite some time now.

"I wish I had killed you 'accidentally' back then," Oscar muttered in a bitter tone. "I could have told everyone that we were only playing, then shed a few tears of regret and sadness. Your mother would have had no choice but to walk away with your cold, dead body clutched in her arms, unable to utter a word of protest... just like how she forced herself to remain silent even when I cut your back with a blade and hit you with a rock. As for your father... I'm sure he would have turned a blind eye, since I am the crown prince, after all." He stared intently at the duchess and whispered sincerely, "Poor, wretched Isabella..."

A soft, dry chuckle escaped Cárcel's lips as he retrieved faded memories from the back of his mind.

Back when he was six years old, the relationship between him and Oscar had somewhat resembled friendship, even though the crown prince was difficult and arrogant. Oscar had given him a genuine smile whenever their paths crossed, and he excitedly talked of their future-something the grownups always discussed. Cárcel had been slightly annoyed by how Oscar tried so hard to act mature, but he hadn't disliked him. But at the end of the day, their relationship had been lopsided, since Oscar held the leash to his loyalty. The crown prince was someone he could never betray and his closest ally.

One fateful day, however, everything had shattered like glass. Oscar, a ten-year-old child who had never tried to hurt his younger cousin, had attacked Cárcel like someone possessed. His teeth were gritted in rage and fear, as if he could no longer tolerate Cárcel's presence. He had tackled Cárcel to the ground and choked him with his bare hands. Cárcel had struggled in terror, his flailing arms pinned under Oscar's knees, and barely managed to escape his cousin's hands after a few terrifying moments. Only seconds later, Oscar had slashed at his back with a paper knife. When Cárcel looked back, his face contorted in pain, Oscar had looked entirely unfamiliar. He had no longer been the boy who Cárcel considered a friend.

The male attendants and ladies-in-waiting had frantically split them apart. Then they all stood there, speechless and shocked.

A kind, embarrassed smile had crept back onto Oscar's face, but even that had looked alien to Cárcel.

"I was only playing," Oscar had said.

"Good gracious... What games could possibly be played with such a sharp blade? Please allow us to have it, Your Highness," a lady-in-waiting had whispered, horrified.

After handing the knife over, Oscar had continued, "/really didn't think Cárcel would get hurt."

"Your Highness... Lord Cárcel is seriously injured. If you swing such a sharp blade at him, he is bound to get hurt."

Even then, Oscar had responded nonchalantly, "I swear I didn't mean to hurt him. I just wanted to choke him at first, but he tried to run away... I was curious to see how long one could survive if they were strangled."

After a moment, Isabella had raced into the palace with pure panic in her eyes. Immediately, Cayetana stopped her and repeated what Oscar had said, "They were only playing, Isabella. He didn't think Cárcel would get hurt. He simply wanted to know how long one could...survive... if they were strangled." Even as she spoke, the doubt and disbelief had been clear in her voice. "I know you must be terrified, but surely you know just how cruel children can be despite their fundamental innocence. Oscar is not a brute. He cares for Cárcel greatly... In fact, he considers him to be his own brother after spending many lonely years without any siblings. He was only playing."

When Isabella's shocked outburst did not cease, the empress had rebuked her in a sharp tone. "Do not be so dramatic, Isabella. You are not the only mother in the world, and I know exactly how you feel. How many times must I tell you this? There is no need to keep your son away from mine, either. He is only six years old, and this will fade from his memory soon enough."

At that point, Cárcel had been resting in Cayetana's bedchamber, silently watching his mother's face alternate between being flushed and pale.

Afterward, Isabella had walked over to him and said in a sorrowful voice, "Her Majesty told me... that His Highness simply made a mistake."

Even while feverish, he had instinctively known that she was lying, and that she was uttering those words even though she knew they were false. Her face had been drenched with tears, a stark contrast to his dry eyes. He had simply nodded and agreed, not wanting to see his mother crying.

It had taken him some time to finally realize why she had no choice but to retreat. Before the incident, his uncle, who had been cast away by his maternal grandfather, had become a thorn in Duke Escalante's side. Furthermore, Isabella had already been burdened with guilt and blame due to several matters regarding her side of the family, which was why she had been acting like a timid rabbit whenever she had to interact with Cayetana, her husband's noble sister. That fateful day, however, Isabella had raised her voice at Cayetana for the very first time, only to be forced to endure the injustice just like she had done many times before.

During their carriage ride back from the palace, Isabella had clutched him in a tight embrace and muttered tearfully, "You must forget, Cárcel. You must forget what happened. You must..."In a way, it had felt like she was trying to wipe her own memories, which made sense considering how Oscar had greeted her with a smile earlier that day.

Cárcel had told her that he would forget, and he was willing to for his mother's sake.

That night, he had heard his parents arguing outside his bedroom. In hindsight, this was an ominous foreshadowing of how the two of them would slowly drift apart. Every time his parents asked him about the "incident," he told them that he didn't remember anything. At night, he lay in his bed and kept telling himself that he truly did not remember.

Around the time his bruises began to fade, Oscar had visited the Escalante Manor, wearing a worried frown.

"I should never have done such a thing," he had said somberly. "I truly didn't mean for it to go so far..."

Even then, Cárcel had felt like he was sitting across from a monster that was wearing Oscar's skin.

Gradually, Cárcel had forgotten about the pain from the day and how he had genuinely feared for his life, almost as if he wished to erase the eerie feeling from his mind. The horrifying memories were replaced with the hazy recollection of some minor incident that wasn't worth remembering. He forced himself to downplay the severity of the incident, even though he admitted that Oscar had done something violent, cruel, and painful.

Afterward, Oscar had seemingly given up on his sudden desire to kill Cárcel. On some occasions, however, he beat Cárcel like a madman as if he wanted to remind his younger cousin of his destiny to be his subordinate forever.

"I'm curious to see just how much you can suppress your cries with that loyalty of yours, Cárcel," he had whispered cruelly. "Remember, I will earn Escalante's wrath if anybody hears you... but then your parents will earn the imperial family's anger. This is simply the way of the world, dear cousin."

Those words had been enough to convince Cárcel, who was aware of his position as the eldest son of Escalante. It wasn't particularly difficult to suppress his cries for help, and Cárcel had quickly grown numb to the pain. He hid his injuries from his mother, not wanting to see her cry over something he genuinely considered trivial. After some time, the abuse had stopped, and there was nothing to hide or forget.

Indeed, Oscar had put on a completely different mask at some point, and his threats toward Cárcel had ceased as well. It had felt like he finally came to his senses... until now, at least.

Oscar's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "You do not know how much I regret not killing you that day. This regret weighed on my shoulders every time you managed to escape death like a cockroach. And now..."

Twisting his lips into a smile, Cárcel took a step closer to Oscar, making their difference in height much more obvious-a gesture of intimidation.

Oscar scowled angrily, but Cárcel's gaze remained nonchalant as he insolently regarded the man to whom he owed his allegiance. Then he said, "Do you fear that you will accidentally kill me because you know what awaits you upon my sudden death?"

He was certain that Oscar had been an innocent child even a few months after he got engaged to a six-year-old Inés. At some point, however, Oscar had transformed into a vile creature underneath the skin of his younger self. Truthfully, it didn't matter if Oscar had only been a child before that point-no matter what form he took, the crown prince was always the root of all evil.

When Inés told Cárcel that he was her only weakness, he had been briefly overjoyed. But those words only disgusted him now, and he loathed the fact that he had felt any semblance of happiness.

It was obvious that Oscar had threatened Inés again, trying to control her by holding Cárcel hostage. He couldn't believe that Oscar had the gall to speak of his rotten, vile love-he was only a pathetic wretch who was terrified of losing something that had slipped out of his grasp long ago. Cárcel gritted his teeth inwardly. How dare you turn me into her weakness? You have no right.

It appeared that Cárcel's comment hadn't affected Oscar. "Poor Inés, she will be left all alone once you go to war... Do you not worry for her?" he sneered. "Perhaps she will end up returning to her previous master's bed... Surely, you remember this."

Her previous master? Cárcel's lips curled in an icy smile. He knew that Oscar was purposefully acting arrogant, hoping Cárcel would endlessly mull over his words while in war. It was pathetic. His voice was like a dark, silent lake as he retorted, "No sane person would be scared of a mutt wagging its tail outside the fence, begging for a scrap of attention. When its presence grows too bothersome, it can simply be shot dead."

Oscar's face stiffened.

Cárcel poured out the contents of his glass in a large plant pot nearby, then elegantly waved a servant over to hand the empty glass to him. He gave Oscar a polite smile and said, "Fortunately, my wife happens to be an excellent shot, so I am not worried."