Episode 11
The Bait Caught in the Trap
It was a ridiculous situation.
I was the one who warned him not to touch me carelessly — yet I was the one who kissed him first.
Deoki finally seemed to understand what had happened and stood up. He ruffled his hair, turned away to face the wall, then started pacing around the room in agitation.
His face looked angry, or maybe shocked — I couldn’t tell.
Without saying a word, he kicked the door open and stormed out.
‘…So, he didn’t actually have any feelings for me. I just imagined it.’
Left alone, I let out a groan.
I hoped I hadn’t made things worse by provoking him.
Staring at the closed door, I suddenly remembered the small bottle I’d stolen — the one labeled “A.D.”
This chance wouldn’t come again. I quickly opened it and sniffed the contents.
No strange scent. That meant… it was probably an antidote, not poison.
After a moment of hesitation, I took a small sip.
‘Hmm… seems fine.’
I decided to keep it in mind — maybe I could use it for Nicholas later.
But just then, the door burst open.
Startled, I almost swallowed the liquid by accident.
As I expected, Deoki had returned. But something was different — he looked wild, impatient, almost unhinged.
He strode toward me, grabbed the back of my head, and pulled me close before I could react.
And then — his lips crashed into mine.
A deep, overwhelming kiss filled with the scent of wine.
It was forceful — almost desperate.
And then I realized something was wrong.
He was sucking the liquid straight out of my mouth.
All of it.
I could barely breathe as I clung to him helplessly.
“Mmh…”
When he finally pulled away, a thin string of saliva connected our lips. He licked his own mouth slowly, as if savoring the taste.
“……?”
A strange feeling washed over me.
His face — it was changing. The blood vessels around his eyes burst, and his skin turned blotchy red.
It was the reaction of a poisoned body.
My eyes widened. I quickly bent over, coughing and spitting out whatever was left in my mouth.
He just sat there, calm as ever, as if this kind of pain was nothing new to him.
He tapped the pocket of my coat — where the bottle was hidden.
“You thought that was an antidote?”
“……!”
“Or were you planning to kill me and escape the tower?”
I couldn’t answer either way.
He smiled thinly.
“You’re probably disappointed. But I don’t die that easily. If you really want me dead, you’d have better luck cutting my throat while I’m asleep.”
“W-What are you saying…?”
He said it like he was giving me advice — not a joke.
I wiped my mouth, trembling.
It was clear now — he’d built immunity to many poisons.
I tried to explain.
“Deoki, that bottle—”
He cut me off, speaking flatly.
“And my name isn’t damn Deoki. It’s Devon.”
But his eyes glinted with amusement.
“Devon Kiel.”
***
“Devon Kiel.”
I repeated the name in my head.
It didn’t appear in The Tyrant’s Flower.
So he must’ve been a background character — one of those nameless assassins.
Now that I thought about it, he must have realized I took the bottle the moment I touched it.
And he let me drink it — deliberately.
‘He didn’t let me die, but still…’
The real issue was something else.
Out of all the bottles, how did I happen to take that one — the exact one he’d been watching?
Realization hit me like ice water.
I’d done something incredibly reckless.
Old memories started surfacing — the trauma from seven years ago.
I struggled to breathe.
Devon dipped his finger into his wine glass, then tasted it with his tongue — his eyes never leaving mine.
He grimaced.
“…Tch. The flavor’s gone bad.”
Then he walked to the window, opened it, and poured the rest of the red wine outside.
Cold morning air brushed against my cheek.
He spoke in an almost casual tone.
“I guess that kiss was too strong. Now everything else feels bland.”
“……!”
His calm expression turned toward me.
He wasn’t even pretending.
He clearly suspected me of poisoning his drink.
Any trace of trust between us was gone.
‘…This lunatic.’
Devon sat down and closed his eyes, waiting.
Minutes later, color slowly returned to his face — as if nothing had happened.
Then he asked quietly,
“You’re not a thief. So why’d you do it?
Was the blindness just an act?”
The question I’d most wanted to avoid.
“…I just thought maybe—if I drank something, maybe my sight would come back. That’s all. I didn’t know what it was.”
“With those eyes?” he said sharply.
Cold sweat trickled down my back.
No matter what, this man always turned things against me.
I added another lie, trying to make it sound believable.
“One of your men knocked some bottles off the shelf, and I just… picked one up.”
“So you drank something without knowing if it was poison or antidote?
Were you hoping to die this time, since you failed seven years ago?”
Suddenly I sounded suicidal.
“That’s not it!” I protested, shaking my head.
He stared for a moment, then changed the question.
“You still want the antidote, don’t you?”
“…Of course.”
“I already told you — it’s meaningless now.”
His sigh was heavy.
He probably thought I was pathetic.
But I spoke honestly.
“Still… I can’t give up yet. No matter how much time passes, being treated like baggage never feels right.”
His eyebrow twitched — my words had hit a nerve.
Devon took off his damp tunic and started cleaning the floor.
He was bare-chested now — and as always, I turned my blind right eye toward him, pretending not to see.
He muttered,
“I just hope that stubbornness of yours doesn’t turn into poison one day.”
The air between us grew tense again — maybe because of that earlier kiss.
He noticed my stiff posture and added quietly:
“…Truly.”
The assassin sent to kill me… was now talking about my future.
His tone was detached, but somehow, that made it even stranger.
***
The next morning — just before dawn.
Devon helped me put on a thick fur cloak.
Were we… going somewhere together?
Was he taking me to where the antidote was?
If so, maybe this was my only chance before going home — before the assassins targeted Nicholas again.
As he prepared near the door, I asked carefully,
“Where… are we going?”
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t even look at me — just kept getting ready in silence.
‘What’s with him…?’
Before I could think more, sunlight began to seep through the window. The snow had stopped.
Devon picked up his coat.
I turned toward the sound.
“We’re leaving… right?” I asked again.
But the longer the silence stretched, the more uneasy I felt.
Maybe Reinhardt and Jay were waiting below the tower — maybe they’d reminded him of his mission.
I reached out, using the wall to guide myself toward the center of the room.
He stopped right in front of me.
I lifted my head toward the space where he should be.
“…Devon, are you there?”
His eyes — cold and empty — fixed on me.
Then suddenly, a strong hand grabbed my waist.
I let out a scream as the world flipped upside down.
My hair fell over my face.
Before I could catch my breath, Devon carried me out of the cell — upside down — and started walking down the stairs.
