The Cat Who Weeps in the Dark - Chapter 24

That was just the kind of man Helion was. In her three years infiltrating the empire, Katie had heard countless rumors about him.

A cold-blooded monster who regarded death with indifference. A creature forged by war.

Only now did she realize—those rumors weren’t exaggerations. They were the unvarnished truth.

“You… were trying to kill me?”

“Now, now. Don’t say it like that, Kitty. It hurts my feelings. I hoped you wouldn’t die, so that phrasing is wrong.”

“But you knew it was poisoned and still handed it to me!”

Katie had been personally recruited by Helion as his knight. Not only had he forced this unwanted position on her, but he’d also toyed with her life.

If she hadn’t been a beastkin trained in the kingdom’s poisons, she might have truly died. An ordinary knight would have.

“You look disappointed.”

No, that wasn’t it. Katie might have been furious with him, but she wasn’t disappointed. Disappointment was something you felt when you had expectations to begin with.

She had already known exactly what kind of man he was. What could she possibly have expected from someone who would abandon even those who saved his life?

It was just that his unwavering cruelty made her skin crawl.

‘I think I understand the feelings of whoever sent him poison now.’

The resentment and hatred she had suppressed by throwing herself into work now surged violently within her. Katie clenched her fists, biting down hard on her lip.

If she wanted to kill him, this was her chance. While Helion remained arrogantly convinced that she was the only one here who could pose a threat to him. While his guard, Cheche, stood paralyzed by guilt over what had just happened.

But doing so would start a war. The kingdom would bear the blame for yet another attempt on the imperial prince’s life. Katie squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again, forcing her hands to relax. Without a word, she strode past Cheche—who was offering her an awkward, apologetic smile—and headed for the door.

“Deserting your post is problematic.”

Even now, Helion remained infuriatingly unbothered.

“It’s a shift change.”

Her reply was sharp as a blade. Without looking back, she stormed out, the sound of Helion’s amused laughter following her down the hall. She didn’t turn around—not even once.

* * *

“You’re being cruel, Your Highness.”

The room fell silent after Katie’s departure. Cheche’s voice carried a hint of reproach—though what he really wanted to say was:

‘How can someone be so utterly rotten?’

But voicing that would mean losing his head on the spot. Helion wasn’t the type to spare someone just because they’d served him loyally for years.

“I only did what was necessary. I brought her here because her cries were lovely, but useless people have no place by my side.”

“You nearly killed the very person whose ‘lovely cries’ you admired. Had you not insisted on making her your guard in the first place, this test wouldn’t have been necessary.”

“What’s the point of admiring something if you don’t keep it close?”

Helion was the type who believed beautiful flowers ought to be plucked. Cheche, on the other hand, thought they should be left to bloom where they were planted—a fundamental disagreement.

If he couldn’t have something, it had no business being beautiful. Better to let it wither than fall into someone else’s hands.

After all, if you didn’t seize what you wanted, you’d lose it forever.

‘Dead, they said. Died in the war…’

Just like the one who had saved him—gone before he could reach them, lost to time.

“Speaking of Dame Katie… her instincts are alarmingly sharp, don’t you think?”

“She looked ready to take down a bear barehanded.”

“Wouldn’t even need her hands. I nearly jumped out of my skin when she shoulder-checked an assassin into the wall.”

“Today, Katie wasn’t permitted to carry a sword.”

This was Cheche’s doing. Despite being personally recruited by Helion, she hadn’t yet earned their full trust.

Katie had once been a knight under Damian’s faction. Though merely a mid-rank knight unlikely to be entrusted with critical missions, one could never be too careful.

Damian was the type who eagerly awaited Helion’s demise. What if he had deliberately selected a knight with gray eyes—tailored to Helion’s tastes—and positioned her to catch his attention?

Get close, then strike the killing blow. Who could say whether Katie had received such orders?

Yet, even unarmed, she had flawlessly dispatched the assassins. Today’s attackers were more numerous than skilled, as if relying on sheer numbers—but even accounting for that, her prowess was extraordinary.

Every punch shattered noses and sent teeth flying. A single strike dislocated shoulders; a knife-hand blow snapped ribs clean through.

Her skill was undeniable. Too undeniable, in fact—enough to arouse suspicion.

“With abilities like these, remaining a mid-rank knight suggests she was hiding her strength. I can’t fathom why she’d choose now to reveal it, though.”

“More likely a slip than intentional. Panic has a way of unmasking people.”

True enough. This was a royal prince’s chambers. Who wouldn’t falter when assassins kept storming in? Given no preparation or intel, her composure would’ve been more alarming.

In truth, this was precisely what Helion and Cheche had wanted to see. The sudden reassignment, the ambush-like test—all to observe how Katie would react when pushed to the edge.