The Tyrant's Pet

<strong>Meanwhile...</strong>

Conan was pacing back and forth in a chancery while biting the tip of his thumb. His expression was restless, clicking his tongue and ruffling his hair once in a while.

"Ugh...! I'm going crazy!" he clasped his head in distress, making Morro, who was sitting on the settee near him, flinch. The latter nearly tipped the juice he was drinking at Conan's yells, looking up at Conan cautiously.

"What am I going to do?" Conan hissed as he dropped his hand to his side. "His Majesty will surely go crazy again! He will kill me."

"He will?" Morro perked up, rather thrilled with the news, only to receive Conan's glare.

"Are you happy he might kill me?!" Conan sassed, and much to his dismay, Morro nodded. "This dimwit..."

"Sir Conan, you are strong. Just run away before he gets his hands on you." Suddenly, Ismael's voice reached their ear. The third prince, who was sitting behind his desk and was working on a few papers, raised his head. His eyes instantly landed on Conan standing in the middle of the office, and then he glanced at Morro sitting around the set of settees while enjoying his snacks.

Conan snorted. "Do you think it's that easy? Unlike humans, who can't even keep one promise, we're different."

"How?" Ismael cocked his head to the side, blinking curiously. "I mean, how do vampires keep their promises?"
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"Tch. I don't need to explain it to you! Just do your own thing while I stress over things here, alright?" Conan rolled his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Vampires were cunning creatures. They rarely keep promises." Morro, on the other hand, was more than willing to fill Ismael's curiosity. The third prince had been spoiling (bribing) him with snacks. "Because they don't give their words easily. However, lower vampires can barely keep their ground against someone of His Majesty's caliber. So even if he wants to run away, if His Majesty said he shouldn't, then he wouldn't."

"Hey! I'm not a lower vampire!" Conan rebutted aggressively, miffed at how Morro put his words together. "I can make you kneel before me if I want to."

Morro just looked at Conan with blank eyes before shifting his attention back to Ismael. "That's not true."

Ismael's under-eye twitched, darting his gaze between Conan and Morro. Morro had been hanging out in his chancery ever since the hunting season ended. That was why the third prince was already used to his presence. However, Conan just barged in here an hour ago and he had been restless since.

"Sir Conan, is there a reason His Majesty might want to kill you?" he asked out of plain curiosity. "I don't know if I can help, but well… I've been in situations where I nearly got killed."

"No reason!" Conan's answer was quick as he hissed, raising his hand in Ismael's direction. "You don't understand me. I'm not only worried about my life here. But he will destroy this world, alright?! He can't do that when I haven't gotten married yet!"

"What…?" A line appeared between Ismael's brows, while Morro clapped.

"The vultures will have a feast, I see."

"Shut up, Birdie!" Conan glared daggers at Morro, who only thought of his own interest instead of the bigger picture.
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"Why would he do that?" Ismael blurted out. "I — I mean, I know he is capable, but… he could've done it before. Why now?"

"Ugh… my arms are so tired of spoon-feeding everyone." Conan pinched the bridge of his nose in distress, dragging his feet towards the armchair and tossed himself on it. His legs were over the armrest and his back over the other, head dangling down.

"It's all because of your stupid brother," explained Conan in a lazy voice. "Lady Aries met her father-in-law —"

"What?!" Ismael slammed his palms on the desk and sprung to his feet. "My father?!"

"Oh, don't be excited, Prince. Your father is good as dead since he is kept in a cage where he growls and eats. But my point here is that your stupid brother surely told Lady Aries his secret. Lady Aries will surely connect the dots she had noticed in Haimirich. After all, we weren't cautious talking about us."

Conan reopened his eyes. The room was upside down from his position. "I'm not scared for her since His Majesty will not harm her, but he will surely shift his anger to the rest of the world if she rejects him."

Sadness and pity filled his eyes at the thought.

"Humans… they're always like that. They're kind and forgiving at first, but when they knew you are different, they… do unspeakable things. His Majesty deserves to be happy too… even though he deserved to die, he should at least be happy even for a fleeting moment," he continued in a somber tone, frowning as there were more things he didn't voice out. "This world should give him some slack."

Ismael looked at Conan's lazy figure lying on the one-seater armchair. He slowly wobbled back on his seat behind the desk, leaning his arms against the edge of the desk. In his eyes, Conan might always be grumpy, but he sincerely cared for the sovereign of the Haimirich Empire.

"You should trust her," the third prince muttered, picking up the pen to sign a document. "If Lady Aries is what I think she is, then being a vampire might be a shock to her, but it won't play a big factor in her opinion and feelings."

Ismael put the pen in its holder and folded the paper. Once he finished, he set his eyes on Conan's unmoving figure. Another sigh slipped past his lips, unable to discern if Conan was even listening. But well, Ismael still wanted to give him two cents.

"Don't forget that she had met actual monsters, Sir Conan," he added with a sigh. "Being a monster is not all about appearances. Sure, humans are appalling for your kind and quite daunting with their bottomless ambitions. And vampires are intimidating whenever they bare their fangs and their nature alone. However, I believed Lady Aries saw something in His Majesty and in you people that others such as myself hadn't."