The Tyrant's Terminally-Ill Childhood Friend (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 118

Peter’s hand did not immediately reach for the cup. Instead, he rose from his seat, walked around the table, and approached Lowell. The distance that would have required Lowell to walk quite briskly was closed by him in just a few strides. Lowell stared at him—perhaps “glared” would have been a more fitting word.

Peter tilted his head as he came right up to her, meeting Lowell’s gaze. His eyes, half-lidded from looking downward, held a gentleness that clashed oddly with this strange standoff—an affection utterly out of place.

In a voice imbued with the same warmth as his gaze, he asked,

“Lowell, did you put poison in the cup?”

“You’ll know once you drink it. If you already have your answer, why bother asking?”

Lowell’s voice came out sharp. The smile that had graced her lovely face vanished in an instant. Without it, her expression carried the chilling edge of a honed blade.

“Or are you perhaps afraid? Afraid of just a cup of tea I’m offering you?”

“…Of course I’m afraid. Because once I drink this, I might never see you again.”

“Drink.”

“You don’t seem to realize—if I die, you’ll be in danger. The von der Leyen bloodline can always be replenished from somewhere else, but even a brief moment of chaos in the interim will be aimed straight at you.”

Ironically, Peter himself was the only shield currently surrounding Lowell. It had nothing to do with how formidable Lowell’s own combat skills might be. Such was the precarious position of the Emperor’s consort in an empire without an Emperor. Everyone would want Lowell dead, and even Martinek would likely be powerless to stop it.

Lowell would end up dying like a rabbit, exhausted from being hunted, walking willingly into a trap. Peter could already envision that future. Though his own death meant nothing to him.

“I can’t possibly let you die like that.”

You must die with me.

With those words, Peter lifted the cup and drank—no, merely held it in his mouth—and then immediately kissed Lowell, as if to say he wouldn’t drink any poison alone.

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