Tamed Monster - Chapter 129

When Kuinan flattered him in a surprisingly human and plausible tone, the Emperor widened his eyes as though he hadn’t expected such words, then burst into hearty laughter.

Kuinan felt so offended he thought his insides might rot away.

‘Do I really have to go this far just because of that bastard Hector…?’

A sigh rose in his chest, but he quickly reminded himself. This wasn’t for Hector. It was a sacrifice for his mate. The impulse was crushed down.

Even though the Emperor stood before him practically defenseless, without so much as a weapon, and killing him would have been as easy as slicing through warm porridge, Kuinan suppressed the overwhelming urge to murder.

After laughing for quite some time, clutching his stomach, the Emperor wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and looked down at Kuinan from the dais.

“Well now. I’ve lived long enough to see all sorts of amusing spectacles.”

A year ago, he never would have imagined seeing Lancart return from the swamp having lost his memory, reduced to a fool—nor that same fool relearning language well enough to offer such childish flattery.

One way or another, this troublesome younger brother had given the Emperor plenty to laugh about lately.

The Emperor was not a man who regarded anyone as more than a trivial amusement, someone mildly useful for passing time. Yet this brother, who unsettled him every time they met, did not irritate him. In fact, lately he found this foolish sibling the most entertaining of all.

“I’ve been making an effort lately. Trying to cultivate a habit of speaking more pleasantly.”

The skill had been honed to win over a certain female, but it served well enough against the Emperor for now. The Emperor seemed to genuinely enjoy his newly sharpened wit.

Kuinan couldn’t help brooding over why this very same tone, which made a king laugh aloud, had no effect whatsoever on Sylvia.

“…Amusing as it is, don’t dare drift off into your own thoughts in front of me.”

Seeing plainly that Kuinan’s mind had wandered elsewhere, the Emperor chided him lightly. Lancart glanced up at him without so much as feigning an apologetic expression. Emperor Myers looked at his brazen half-brother with faint displeasure before continuing.

“So. You said you came to ask me for a favor. What is it?”

Though they shared blood, the Emperor was not the sort of man who cared a whit about familial bonds. He would never grant a favor without compensation. Lancart had always thrown himself into battle without hesitation, even for the smallest of merits. But the Emperor was entirely different.

Born of the Emperor and Empress, a flawless legitimate heir, Myers had been royalty itself from birth. He had always been the one giving orders—never the one making requests. Even now, he was already scheming like a cruel boy, wondering what he could extract from Lancart in return.

“…It’s nothing much. I was hoping you might lend me something. Just for a day.”

His younger brother spoke calmly, expression unreadable, as if he felt no tension whatsoever under the Emperor’s scrutinizing gaze.

Lend? Not take, but borrow? The Emperor found the request puzzling. Among the countless treasures and people he possessed, there was nothing he would readily lend—at least not without a tempting price.

“…What?”

For some reason, it was Myers who felt tense. He didn’t even realize his palms had grown damp with sweat as he waited for Lancart’s answer. The brief silence before his brother spoke stretched on like eternity.

“…Well, you see—”

The moment Lancart’s lips finally formed the words, the Emperor felt all the strength drain from his body.

* * *

Had he asked to borrow a woman instead, the Emperor might not have been so taken aback.

But that wasn’t what Lancart requested. Though he promised to return it in just a single day, the Emperor found himself reluctant to lend that. It was hardly something one would lend. Too trivial. Too insignificant.

“If it’s nothing important, then why not just lend it to me?”

His younger brother had asked boldly. Yet for some inexplicable reason, the Emperor felt deeply uneasy. He had even offered, instead, to give him something far more valuable—free of charge.

“No, that’s all I need.”

“What on earth are you doing to me? Think of my dignity—my dignity! If you take that and parade it around, what will those who see it think of me?”

Lancart had asked for a single bird.

Not a beautiful ornamental bird. Not a well-trained, useful one. Just a crow.

A creature so worthless it couldn’t even serve as a proper carrier pigeon.