I Was Hired by the Dark Prince for My Life's Worth - Chapter 62

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Episode 62. Three-Way Confrontation
Remote Palace Outside Imperial Grounds.
“Hack, hack…!”
The First Prince, Nike Oswald, trembled as his throat burned with a searing heat.
His snow-white hair clung to his face in a dirty mess, soaked with sweat.
Thud!
The man’s body crumpled helplessly to the floor.
His trembling hands held no strength.
A pain like tearing flesh crept upward from his feet through his limbs.
“Gasp…!”
He clenched his teeth, but it made no difference.
Since his survival, every moment of his life had been suffering.
A sensation as though his lungs were being eaten away from within.
His ribs screamed with each breath he drew.
The pain was familiar, yet he had never grown numb to it.
Every moment brought only hurt.
“Ha, ha, ha…”
He laughed bitterly at himself.
“It seems to have gotten worse again lately.”
Coughing erupted at the end of his laughter.
Cough, cough!
Red blood stained the back of his hand.
It was already fifteen years since the manifestation of an unknown curse had claimed everyone in the 5th Separate Palace save Nike, leaving them to eternal rest.
Nike had spent ten years as a half-corpse.
A life in which he could not even rise from his bed.
Unlike what the court attendants had predicted—that he would soon perish—he had improved, however gradually, and only recently managed to stand on his own two feet.
Compared to those old days when living felt like hell itself, this was nothing at all; and yet suffering admits no mitigation.
“Sigh…”
He leaned his back against the wall and exhaled a long breath, as if exhausted.
The taste of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth was metallic.
“Is anyone there?”
He called out, but no answer came in return.
This, too, was familiar.
Snort.
Nike twisted his mouth in self-mockery.
Though it was called the First Prince’s palace, this place was truly a place of exile.
Only a few servants came to clean; otherwise, it was a space that everyone had forgotten and abandoned.
“Is a curse truly so fearsome?”
They were terrified it might spread to them.
He felt no sadness about it.
He had been alone for far too long to feel that.
‘Though I do find myself missing that pink-haired maid who spoke to me without such prejudice.’
He braced himself against the wall and struggled to his feet.
With little strength in his legs, he crawled more than walked toward where the medicine cabinet was kept.
A single Herbal Medicine Pill from a mountain of them stacked high.
“Still, no matter when I take it, there’s no taste to it.”
As he chewed and swallowed the black pearl-like pill, bitterness spread across his tongue.
After some time, his breathing finally began to settle.
“Phew…”
He took a long, deep breath and leaned his body casually into a chair.
At least there was medicine; he should be grateful for that much.
Compared to the old days when he had to endure it raw, this was nothing.
Feeling his heartbeat gradually steady, Nike closed his eyes.
It was the very moment he was about to rest.
“Well, well, looks like someone’s been taking that cursed medicine again.”
Bang!
The door was thrown open roughly.
“How pitiful you are, brother.”
It was the Second Prince, Kiton Oswald.
He walked into the room without bothering to hide his sneer.
Nike lifted his gaze slowly.
“What is it?”
“You don’t know, and yet you ask?”
“Looking at your face, I think I can guess.”
He exhaled.
Nike drew in another deep breath.
Kiton’s mood seemed beneath his notice entirely.
Kiton’s face contorted like a demon’s.
“I did exactly as you said, and it only gave Yurian more good fortune!”
“So it came to that.”
“…So it came to that?”
Ha ha ha!
The Second Prince burst into loud laughter.
“Is that all you have to say? Your plan has completely fallen apart!”
He strode into the room, his boots pounding the floor with heavy steps.
He made no attempt to hide his rage.
“Do you have any idea what a mansion costs?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“Damn it, a million gold. A full million gold!”
Bang!
In his frustration, he kicked the chair aside.
The First Prince watched the chair fly past him with indifference, then poured tea into his cup.
Such petulance was hardly worth raising an eyebrow over.
“Consider yourself fortunate it’s only that. One of the three nobles has switched sides.”
“What, they won’t support you?”
“They say they cannot trust me. Ha ha!”
Kiton ground his teeth together.
A third of the nobles who had backed the Second Prince had turned away.
For him, it was a bitter blow.
“Lost money, lost your base of support. And in the meantime, Yurian became a hero.”
“Don’t say it.”
“Damn it, yes! Again! Everything’s flowing in that bastard’s favor again!”
As if he were blessed by the gods themselves, or something.
Kiton muttered this roughly as he dropped into his seat.
Then he drained the tea Nike had prepared for him in greedy gulps.
Nike watched him for a long moment before taking a measured sip of his own tea.
Then he spoke calmly.
“But it’s not my fault things turned out this way. It’s the fault of your own men.”
“…Damn that cursed Kayle.”
The Second Prince’s breathing grew ragged.
His expression said the mere thought of it infuriated him.
Kayle Oswald, the Fourth Prince.
When Kiton heard that the fourth son—the one who had begged for his life, promising to obey orders—was the culprit who had blown up the mansion, he’d thought his blood pressure would spike so dangerously he’d collapse.
The note he’d pressured the Imperial Defense Corps to retrieve bore handwriting unmistakably belonging to the Fourth Prince.
“He vanished without a trace, they say?”
“Don’t even mention that man.”
Though he’d mobilized soldiers to search for him as thoroughly as one might comb for lice, the Fourth Prince had disappeared completely—as if he’d ascended to heaven or sunk into the earth.
As though he’d been waiting for this moment all along.
Kiton leaned back, pressing his temple.
When he thought about it, this plan had gone wrong from the start.
“Yurian’s maid, sir. You said you’d encountered her.”
“Ah, yes.”
An interesting topic.
The First Prince’s half-closed eyes opened wider.
“Vanillin, you mean?”
“She was far from ordinary.”
“…Is that so?”
Nike’s body tilted forward slightly.
But Kiton, oblivious to this shift in attention, pressed his brow and continued speaking.
“She appeared to be concealing considerable power.”
“Superhuman Strength? That fragile girl, you mean?”
“To be precise, ‘Superhuman Strength’ would be the correct term. She had enough power to shove aside the knights we sent to abduct her and escape.”
That’s why they’d had no choice but to invoke Yurian’s name and abduct her instead.
They’d meant to save that as a last resort, fearful the trail would lead back to them.
Nike laughed then, as if intrigued.
“That worked out well. She’ll make a fine attendant by my side.”
“I think you’re misunderstanding. She isn’t your maid. She’s Yurian’s personal attendant.”
“I know. That’s exactly why I want her.”
Cough, cough.
Kiton’s brow furrowed as he watched Nike answer so casually while coughing.
There it was—the reason he despised this man.
He wore the face of a scholar, yet occasionally uttered things that made one’s skin crawl.
As if it were nothing at all.
Sip.
Nike drank his tea with elegant grace.
“So then, what happened to her?”
“Who knows? She was caught in the explosion. Dead, alive, or half-crippled—your guess is as good as mine.”
“Pity. I’d hoped she was only slightly injured.”
A dry laugh.
An injured maid was likely to be cast aside.
And in that gap, he could swoop in and claim her for himself.
Kiton clicked his tongue.
Truly a thought worthy of someone bearing Oswald blood.
‘I should leave this place.’
That’s what he was thinking as he drained the last of his tea in one gulp.
Knock, knock.
A neat, measured rap sounded from beyond the door.
And then.
“Vanillin, fortunately, sustained no injuries whatsoever.”
That familiar voice settling against his ear.
The third child of the Oswald Imperial House.
Yurian entered with a faint smile playing at his lips.
The second prince’s face crumpled in an instant.
“You….”
“Thanks to this incident, our bond has only grown stronger. Quite fortunate, really.”
Slide.
Without so much as glancing at Kiton, Yurian took the seat across from Nike.
Was he provoking them?
…No, that earnest, dull-witted third prince would never do such a thing.
Nike studied him for a moment, then tapped his teacup lightly.
“That’s good news. I was worried.”
A ripple spread across the surface of the tea.
Was it regret, or obsession?
Yurian gazed at Nike for a long moment, then suddenly widened his eyes.
“It seems you were just discussing the Pleasure Party.”
“You dare—!”
“Which is why I’ve come to ask for a permit to enter the Langslot Duke Estate.”
The second prince Kiton’s face darkened as he lunged forward, but Yurian was faster.
Looking between Kiton and Nike in turn, he continued with unhurried calm.
“It appears the fourth prince may have fled there.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————