The Tyrant's Pet

<strong>[ Imperial Palace: Emperor's chancery ]</strong>

Abel perched leisurely on the chair behind the desk, his feet on it, eyes shut. When he reopened his eyes ever so slowly, the door suddenly flung open.

Conan gasped in dismay, looking around at the mountains of papers around the emperor's office. It wasn't any better than his office, which he had already expected. But his heart wasn't ready for it; he would never be ready.

"Your Majesty!" he shook his head, ignoring the horror around him, and went straight to Abel's desk. The emperor's office was much wider than Conan's, so he was aware Abel was idling and getting no work done.

Conan planted his hands on his hips, huffing. His eyes fell on Abel, waiting for the emperor to look back at him.

"Where is she?" Conan asked without beating around the bush, making Abel arch a brow. "That devil who caused all this mess! Where is she?"

"She… left," came out Abel's lazy voice, fluttering his eyelashes ever so slowly.

"What?" Conan gasped in dismay. "How can she leave after doing all these things?!"

"I know, right?"

"Your Majesty! How can you let her go?! She hasn't gone that far yet, and we should bring her back!"

"She had gone far by now…"

Conan scrunched his nose up in disappointment. "Your Majesty, just because she's a child, doesn't mean she shouldn't be responsible for her actions! Have you checked the records? She had offended quite a few kingdoms!"

"And since when did we care who we offend and who we ignore?" Abel batted his eyes with genuine wonder in them. "Also, I don't think we're on the same page. The one who caused this trouble isn't that child, but someone else."

"What?" Conan's eyes went round.

"That glutton indeed played house, but the person who gave her the ammo to do whatever she pleased is someone else." Abel retracted his feet from the desk, pushing himself up from the seat. He then faced the window just right behind his desk, massaging his wrist while moving his hand in a slow, circular motion.

"Gathered everyone and locked them all in here to help us out finish these documents before the coven." Abel's expression didn't change, but his tone sounded oddly low. "I have a bad feeling about it."

Conan furrowed his brows, recalling there was also an approaching coven a month from now. However, that wasn't what concerned Conan, but the fact that Abel was bringing it up himself. It was usually the other way around since Abel couldn't be bothered about it.

"Your Majesty, what do you think will happen in the upcoming coven?" asked Conan since it was the easiest to understand Abel's remarks.

Abel narrowed his eyes slightly. "I don't know," he muttered. "But my gut feeling told me something will happen… and my gut feeling never failed me."

"The coven…" Conan let out a deep exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose in distress. "We're already stumped with all these works, and then there's a coven… damn that Darkmore."

Abel chuckled and glanced back at Conan. "My dearest vassal, fret not. You can always settle scores with the person responsible for these."

Conan slowly raised his eyes, furrowing his brows. He cocked his head to the side, seeing the slight smirk plastered on the emperor's face.

"The person who caused this mess…?" Conan repeated in an intrigued voice. "Who?"

Abel smacked his lips as he slowly turned, facing the window once again. He held his hand behind him, keeping his chin up, looking in a particular direction.

"You'll know when that person stepped foot in the Capital," said Abel with a tinge of wicked thrill in his tone. "You'll definitely hate that person deep in your bones."

"Someone I will hate…?" Conan blinked twice, rubbing his chin. "My family?"

Conan cocked his head to the side and shook his head. "That's impossible," he told himself, knowing there was no way his family would leave their home. Those people loved their land and titles so much.

After careful consideration, Conan's brows elevated. He raised his head and set his eyes on Abel's back.

"Which one…?" Conan whispered, seeing Abel glance over his shoulder, and catching the smirk on the corner of the emperor's mouth.

"Finish things quickly, my dearest vassal." Abel kept his eyes on the window. "There are seven existing Grimsbanne for three years now, including that Glutton I locked in your room last night. You know what that means… do you?"

"What?" this time, Conan's pupils dilated. His complexion slightly paled, holding his breath until his neck turned taut.

Conan knew the prophecy of the Grimsbanne more than anyone. To make the prophecy simple, it was said that when seven of the devil's seeds had existed for a certain amount of time, mayhem would ensue.

"The coven…" he whispered, only to trail off when Abel spoke.

"That is why we need to finish these papers before the coven. I don't think the council hadn't heard about it. After all… they had been acting strange from a year ago." A glint flickered across Abel's eyes, knowing he couldn't treat the next coven without a thought. "The coven is the only time I am vulnerable and if they killed me… I would definitely die... just as I used to wish."

Conan balled his hand into a tight fist until they trembled, grinding his teeth, as his hatred towards Isaiah skyrocketed. However, he was aware this wasn't the proper time to point fingers.

"I… I'll be on my way." Conan hung his head low, and without waiting for Abel's response, he turned on his heel and left.

Silence instantly fell in the emperor's chambers when Conan closed the door behind him. Abel kept his gaze in a particular direction before shifting his eyes to the direction where the Vandran residence was at.

Unlike Conan, who was worried about the upcoming coven, Abel had a different concern. Not that he was completely unbothered by it, but he had a different priority than his own life.

"It seems… Marsella is lucky," he whispered, eyes drooping until they were partially closed. "When will you tell me about your worsening condition, darling?"