As much as the sparkling white diamond on the brooch in his hand.

Clang.

The heavy iron door closed firmly behind him.

Ixar, who returned from the interrogation room, looked around his room.

The room had been neatly organized in the meantime.

A new sheet was neatly spread without any wrinkles. The quilt cotton lay flat without any lumps.

Thick curtains neatly enveloped the window. The wooden table gleamed with a polished surface. And in the vase, new flowers had been arranged…

“Even if I see it, it’s still a prison.”

Ixar chuckled as if finding it amusing.
He sat at the table, reflecting on the recent interrogation.

“Do you not remember anything else? Where did you get the mallet? Were you in a fit of rage? If not, when did you start harboring the intention to kill? Was it on the day of the incident, or was it before? Have you had any recent unpleasant incidents?”

The interrogator’s attitude was not impolite. If I were in his shoes, I would have pressed much harder. However, even so, Ixar could not endure the discomfort.

One thing was entirely excluded from every question the interrogator asked.

That was the assumption that Claude de Ferrier, the victim, provided the cause for all this turmoil.

Ixar despised Claude de Ferrier.

He pretended to be a good person, displaying all kinds of hypocrisy. In reality, he was trash who reveled in seducing women with husbands.

For him, love affairs with ordinary women were overwhelmingly dull compared to illicit affairs filled with thrilling tension. Even if a woman deeply in love with him mentioned divorcing her husband, he didn’t care.

All he needed to do was gently coax her ears with words, softly reminding her that divorce would gain her nothing, and that being someone’s wife would make their relationship even more fresh and tender.

This was the true face of Claude de Ferrier, an individual who repeated adultery and deceit as if they were hobbies, all while being adored by everyone for being good with people.

But Ixar was not a righteous apostle, and he didn’t care if that guy roamed around like a horny beast. He had no intention of killing him. But strangely, on that day, he truly wanted to.

Ixar, being on friendly terms with Duke Senade, reluctantly attended the periodic exhibition of Ferrier’s paintings.

After paying respects to the Duchess of Senade, when he turned around, Ferrier approached and began a conversation. Ixar should have turned away before those words came out.

“What does the Empress like?”

Claude spoke with courteous words.

“My mother plans to visit to wish Her Majesty a safe childbirth soon. Knowing what she likes would be very helpful in choosing a gift. Your Excellency.”

Ixar noticed his interest in the Empress from the concentrated attention he gave to my response and the undisguised greedy look in his eyes.

Although he must have heard about the Emperor and the extent of his affection for his woman, it was not a source of fear but rather an element that made the target even more attractive.

“I don’t know about gifts…”

Ixar said, suppressing a laugh.

“I’m quite sure you know what she would like.”

“What would that be?”
Claude’s eyes sparkled.

“I hope you disappear quickly from my sight. You seem uncomfortable sitting for too long.”

“……. ”

In response to Ixar’s cold reply, Claude’s face briefly displayed confusion. Then, he smoothly smiled and asked,

“Your Excellency, do you like her?”

At the abrupt question, Ixar’s gaze wavered. It was like an involuntary reaction, similar to how one might involuntarily bend their arm when touching something hot.

Seeing this, Claude sealed his lips, then burst into laughter.

“Just kidding, just kidding. Why are you so surprised?”

Claude brushed back his bangs as he spoke.

Ixar, of course, knew that he was not joking.

People tend to recognize those who resemble themselves remarkably well, and Claude Ferrier undoubtedly sensed a similar impropriety in Ixar’s hostility.

Having caught a vulnerability, there seemed to be no need to keep up pretenses. Claude, with a daring gaze, spoke,

“Well, it’s not an impossible thing. The most tempting entity is someone unattainable, you know.”

As if offering to share the secret as a senior in life, he leaned in close to Ixar, whispering,

“But don’t recklessly seize it. It’s hard to handle the aftermath. I just wanted to offer some advice.”

Claude chuckled, tapping Ixar’s shoulder.

“Just enjoy it.”

His voice became more discreet.

“Evade the husband’s eyes.”

“……. ”

“Now is a particularly good time. Do you know how I obtained the woman I desired the most? It was when she gave birth to her first child and was suffering from depression. That’s when women are most emotionally vulnerable.”

Ixar snapped back to reality, holding Claude’s collar.

The knuckles of his clenched fist were white. People around were trying their best to separate them.

But the more they tried to separate them, the more resistance Ixar put in. He wanted to punch Claude’s red, swollen face. But he couldn’t.

If he had started hitting, he might have continued until he broke something. After breaking something, he might have felt like killing.

Ixar released Claude’s collar and stepped back. He ignored Claude’s repulsive outstretched hand.

He felt the blame in the eyes of those watching him. But if they knew he had considered cutting off Claude’s wrist, could they still blame him?

“Your Excellency, have a drink. It will calm your mind.”

A passerby handed him a transparent cocktail. Thirsty for rage, he couldn’t refuse.

Ixar gripped the cocktail glass as if it would shatter and gulped it down in one go. Then, he left the reception hall, thinking he would head straight home… or so he thought.

“I bring you tragic news, Your Excellency.”

The next morning, until he heard the news from the guards who visited his residence.
“Early this morning, Mr. Claude Ferrier was found dead in front of the Artes Carriage Depot.”

It was shocking news. However, compared to the reason why this news was conveyed to me, it couldn’t be considered shocking.

“Mr. Ferrier was tightly holding this in his hand. Is it yours, Your Excellency?”

A guard showed something sparkling. Ixar quickly looked down at his chest. There was nothing. So, that brooch was mine.

As Claude Ferrier was dying, what he held tightly in his hand was none other than my Lapis Lazuli brooch!