Sincerely, I Want You Dead

"...Oof."

Frey carefully lifted Lulu, who had mistaken the leg of a chair for his own and fallen asleep clinging to it, drool and all, then laid her down on the bed in her room.

Swish... He gently removed the strand of hair she was sucking on in her sleep and brushed it back behind her ear.

"Hehe..."

When Frey stroked her head ever so lightly—not enough to wake her—Lulu smiled blissfully in her sleep, as if savoring his touch.

"I need to keep you hidden tight in this mansion for a while."

Gazing at her with eyes full of adoration, Frey straightened his clothes and headed for the door.

"I can't let that damned bitch target you already."

In case she woke up and clung to his leg begging to come along, he left those words behind and hurriedly slipped out of Lulu's room.

"I told you to go downstairs and get ready."

"........."

"My words don't seem to be getting through, huh."

He spoke in a cold voice to Aris and Ariane, who were waiting silently in front of his door.

"I can send you back to prison anytime. The verdict allows it. And if that happens, you'll not only get expelled from the academy but suffer horribly in there too."

At the word expelled, the two girls flinched. Frey glared at them and walked between them, adding,

"So follow my orders quietly. No funny ideas."

"...Yes."

Reluctantly answering, the two girls followed behind Frey as he descended the stairs.

Swish... As Frey averted his gaze from them and pulled out his staff from his pocket, the two exchanged glances and subtly closed the distance.

"...Did you call the carriage?"

But Frey's hand twitched on the staff, and he turned back to ask them abruptly.

"It should be waiting outside."

"Did you attach the family crest? I'm worried trash like you might not do it properly."

"...There won't be any mistakes."

"Well, we'll see."

Satisfied with their polite speech, Frey resumed walking.

"Ah, wait—"

Ariane, startled by his suddenly much faster pace, reached out to grab him, but

"...Enough."

Aris caught her arm.

"Let's make it certain."

"........."

Hesitating at her words, Ariane lowered her head, then looked up at Aris with trembling eyes.

"You stay out of it. I'll do it alone, like always."

"But—"

"I just realized. You can't kill people. Protecting and guarding, maybe, but not this."

Speaking coldly to the conflicted Ariane, Aris fiddled with the dagger in her bosom and added,

"Just handle the cleanup after. If you don't want to get involved, put up a barrier around the area."

"I-I want to help too..."

"Do what you want. Just don't interfere."

Before long, Aris had shed her sharp, intellectual commoner representative facade and donned the visage of a seasoned Moonlight assassin.

"Welcome, Young Master Frey."

Leaving the grim-faced Ariane behind, Aris quickened her pace and boarded the carriage with Frey as he stepped out the front door.

"The destination is..."

"Take us here."

"Understood."

Naturally settling into the seat beside him, she said,

"I'll lean on you until we arrive."

"...Understood."

As Frey leaned against her at an angle and closed his eyes, she murmured softly in response, thinking to herself,

'Sorry, Frey. You'll never make it there.'

All while feeling the murderous impulse—always boiling when killing a target—surge several times stronger today.

'...Forever.'

Moments later, the carriage set off.

.........

"...Mmnya."

"........."

Inside the carriage heading slowly to the location Frey had given, Aris sat rigidly stiff.

"Mm..."

Right now, Frey—the target she had to assassinate today, her prey—was dozing off with his head on her shoulder, completely defenseless.

From the perspective of a seasoned assassin like her, this was a perfectly laid table.

Thus, she felt the urge to take a bite.

Rustle... She wanted to pull the knife from her bosom and plunge it into his throat, devouring the feast.

The man known as the creator of the Subjugation Curse etched into her and her classmates. The one who could control her with a single word. She wanted revenge against Frey.

"........."

But Aris suppressed the impulse.

It wasn't part of her plan. Killing him now would implicate the innocent girl before her.

And to receive the secret orders transmitted through the curse, she exercised superhuman patience.

"Hmmm..."

But something was off today. Her patience, usually freely controllable during assassinations, was rapidly depleting.

'What the hell...?'

Every time Frey breathed out against her shoulder, two emotions clashed fiercely, blooming wildly within her.

One, of course, was murderous intent.

The hatred for Frey, the creator of the curse that turned her and her classmates into puppets for the secret master.

The disgust and revulsion from his daily threats of turning her into a sex slave, his meaningful expressions every morning.

All the negative emotions from his various villainies coalesced into a powerful kill urge within Aris.

Somehow stronger today.

"Ugh..."

And the inexplicable emotion rising alongside it was deeply disconcerting to Aris.

Cold outwardly and inwardly, she had been trained to suppress most emotions during kills.

This feeling was a major distraction.

'What is it...'

Deciding to analyze the cause, she delved into her emotions.

"I don't know..."

But even after a long time, no clear conclusion.

Every glance at his pale face brought hesitation to her resolve to kill him.

Pinning that ambiguous state to one emotion was nearly impossible.

Whoosh!

Snapping out of her greatest assassination dilemma as the air shifted, Aris whipped her gaze toward it.

Crackle!!

"Ugh."

A stone struck the exact spot on the window she was watching.

"What the...?"

The duke family's well-warded carriage prevented the stone from piercing the magic barrier, but it was enough to make Frey—feigning sleep to observe—open his eyes.

"What..."

Rubbing his eyes sleepily and peering out groggily, Frey

"........."

froze solid.

"This."

Street people hurled stones at him with furious expressions.

Some threw bottles, others eggs, even pokers.

"Let go of me!"

"Eek!"

Of course, they were swiftly arrested by the surrounding guards.

"Filthy bastard..."

"Just die."

"What are the monsters doing? Why not drag that fucker away..."

But there weren't enough to arrest everyone cursing him.

The Starlight crest on the carriage gleamed brightly in the sunlight, drawing the market alley crowd into the street frenzy.

"Hilarious."

After freezing briefly, Frey smirked with intrigued amusement.

"No matter what, I'm perfectly safe like this."

The crowd grew angrier at his sight. Growing bored of the paralyzed street spectacle, Frey clicked his tongue and drew the curtain.

"Strange..."

At that moment, Aris's doubts amplified.

"What's going on..."

She had witnessed it. The expression a novice couldn't catch, only a veteran assassin analyzing every instant.

In that frozen split-second, Frey had worn a terrified, hurt, anxious, and sad face.

'No way I'd waver over something like that...?'

Of course, pity or leniency from such an expression on her target was laughable for a pro like her.

But why? Seeing it brought a slight hesitation.

Not pity—she was too emotionless for that.

Love? Absurd. No chance she'd suddenly fall for Frey.

'Just my imagination...'

Concluding it was just an off day with emotional swings, she cautiously observed him.

"Aris."

Frey, who had been staring blankly at her, spoke up right then.

"Take good care of me tonight too?"

With a chilling smile.

"......!"

His words made her blood boil.

"Y-You fuck...!"

The applause sounds she'd ignored every morning. The nagging unease. His satisfied face. All the puzzle pieces clicked, unleashing unbearable rage.

"You goddamn...!"

It was bizarre, really. A situation she despised, hoped never to face—yet she shouldn't react like this.

Trained to prioritize missions even if emotions exploded, falling for such cheap provocation was nonsense.

Crunch!

For some reason, her inflated murderous intent shattered her reason. Before she knew it, she'd drawn her dagger and pierced Frey's left arm.

"Hm."

"......!"

Frey observed with interest; Ariane panicked at the unplanned ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠turn.

'What have I done...?'

Regaining reason swiftly amid the chaos, Aris desperately thought.

'Deal with that later. No choice now but to finish it.'

Finishing her thought, she viciously twisted the dagger in his left arm—to incapacitate him with pain.

"...Hm."

"......?"

But she panicked soon after.

"What are you doing?"

Frey stared at her calmly, showing no pain.

"What did you do to your body..."

Flustered but composed, she tried to pull the dagger out.

"...Ugh?"

But it wouldn't budge.

Grip, grind...

"Oh."

Black energy suddenly erupted from Frey's arm, clutching the dagger tight.

"What the..."

Sweating coldly, she snapped to and reached into her bosom, but

Boom!!

"Kyaa!!!"

Frey's cold expression turned icy as he grabbed her collar with his left hand and slammed her to the carriage floor.

"Augh..."

"........."

The impact echoed violently despite the soundproofing and wards, leaving her groggy.

The situation ended in an instant.

"How in the..."

"Think I have nothing from the Demon King?"

"Ah..."

"No need for curse commands. You can't beat me even normally."

After a silence, Aris asked,

"Just kill me."

Her voice trembled at his mocking reply.

"I don't want to live like this anymore."

Gazing at Frey with humiliated disgust.

"Better to die than suffer that from you every night."

"That was a lie."

"Shut up and kill me, you idiot."

Like a defeated knight, her declaration drew a laugh from Frey looking down.

"No thanks."

He whispered coldly.

"...Ugh."

Aris squeezed her eyes shut.

Blaming her powerless, pathetic self—prey turned predator—she bit her lip.

Spit.

She spat blood-mixed saliva at Frey.

'Kill me... tell him to kill me...'

A provocation to make him end her quickly.

'Please...'

Mission "failure" triggered the Subjugation Curse's automatic agony, urging assassination—plus the horrors awaiting her beloved "siblings."

Avoidance meant suicide or death before activation.

"Kill me quick...!!!"

Tears streaming as she screamed, Frey looked down.

"Oof."

"Wha—?"

Suddenly lifting her and seating her beside him.

"Wanna make a bet...?"

"A b-bet?"

Smirking as he said it.

"My power weakens every week."

"What?"

Aris gaped blankly; he chuckled.

Slightly opening the window and glancing out, he continued,

"So, try killing me every week."

"What does that..."

"More precisely... attempt it. Assassinate me with all you've got, weekly."

Absurd words left Aris dumbfounded; Ariane pinched her cheek, wondering ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if dreaming.

"I won't hold those attempts against you. You can legally kill me."

"What...?"

"I'll write a will to keep you safe. People might even like you? Succeed, and you'll be a hero."

His baffling words continued; glaring while coughing blood, Aris spoke coldly,

"What's your angle...? What for...?"

"But if you fail to assassinate me..."

"...Knew you'd say that."

Disgusted at his words.

"I'm not your plaything. So..."

"Serve ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as a maid obediently for a week."

"...?"

Not what she expected.

"Sincerely, like a veteran maid who's served since ancient times... Be a diligent servant."

"........."

"Then I'll give you weekly chances to assassinate me."

Silence filled the carriage after his words.

"What do you say?"

Of course, legally killing him weekly when weak was tempting for Aris.

No—mandatory.

Periodic attempts would end the constant pain from the "kill Frey" command persisting even post-master's death.

Same for her comrades.

And killing Frey—the curse creator she saw as ultimate villain—would make her a hero.

"Why offer this...?"

She asked again.

"What's in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it for you...?"

This one-sidedly advantageous deal—what meaning for him?

"Who knows?"

He shrugged.

"Seems fun?"

Aris frowned.

"...Actually, I miss having servants?"

But his next words eased her scowl unwittingly.

A fleeting sad expression crossed his face again.

"Anyway... figure it out yourselves."

"M-Me too...?"

"Yeah, you too."

As dazed Aris stared while Ariane asked flustered,

"Fine."

She hardened coldly.

"I don't know your scheme or story... but I'll kill you."

"Good, that's settled."

Smiling faintly at her words, Frey cheerfully flung open the curtain—but

"........."

Protesters with signs still surrounded the carriage; his face darkened instantly.

"...Ugh."

Trembling, clutching his heart.

"Hoo..."

Yet forcing a stoic gaze out the window.

"...Anyway, today's attempt failed."

Still fixed outside, in a forlorn voice.

"So, do me a favor."

"What favor..."

"Wrap this in bandages?"

Extending his attacked arm to Aris.

"........."

Observing quietly, she

Swish, swish... took the bandages and slowly wrapped his arm, then flinched.

"Hm..."

Watching Frey stare blankly at the sign-waving crowd, she roughly identified her emotion.

What she felt for Frey was

familiarity like toward the Hero of Money she'd recently eaten with often.

And an inexplicable guilt and self-reproach.

"........."

Emotions an assassin mustn't have.

"I'll kill you, Frey. If I win, I'll torture you cruelly first."

"Sure."

"I won't fall for your scheme. If I sense manipulation... I'll just kill myself."

"Whatever."

"And today's attempt isn't over. Brace yourself."

"Got it."

Spitting venom to forget, but Frey remained nonchalant.

"........."

Thus, she shut her mouth and silently bandaged his arm.

"...Sincerely, I hope you just drop dead."