165. I Want You
Chapter 165: I want you.
I laughed.
It came out wrong. Too sharp. Too loud for a room this small. Freya flinched anyway, even though she tried not to. That annoyed me more than it should have.
“Of course,” I said. “Of course it’s an investigation party. Of course I’m invited.”
She crossed her arms. Leather creaked softly. She had changed out of her armor, but she still stood like she was wearing it. Straight spine. Chin up. Ready to take a hit and return it with interest.
“This isn’t a joke,” she said.
“No,” I agreed. “It’s a threat wearing perfume.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth.”
I leaned back on the bed, hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling like it might explain something if I stared hard enough. The room smelled like cheap soap, old wood, and regret. Familiar. Comforting, in a twisted way.
“They’re scared,” I said. “The Duchess. The City Lord. Everyone with a title long enough to strangle themselves with. The envoy goes missing on their soil and suddenly I’m not a problem. I’m a solution.”
She didn’t deny it. That told me everything.
“You absorbed the Philosopher’s Stone,” she said. “That matters.”
“It mattered yesterday too,” I shot back. “Funny how it only became treason when it stopped being useful.”
Her jaw tightened. Good. Hit something solid.
“You think I don’t see it?” I continued. “They don’t want answers. They want a body to point at when the Empire comes knocking. Preferably a foreign one with temporary residency and no family tree.”
She took a step closer. “You are not innocent.”
I laughed again, quieter this time. “Never said I was. I said I’m convenient.”
Silence stretched. The kind that makes you hear your own heartbeat and hate it.
I sat up.
“Here’s the part they won’t say out loud,” I said. “If I disappear. If I cross a border and suddenly become someone else’s problem. They get to explain two things to the Empire. What happened to their envoy. And what happened to the Philosopher’s Stone they were planning to wave around like a peace offering.”
Her eyes flickered. There it was. Fear. Not for me. For the kingdom.
“You wouldn’t,” she said.
“I absolutely would,” I replied. “And don’t mistake that for bravado. I’m tired, Freya. I’m tired of being threatened by people who won’t bleed with me.”
“You think running will fix this?” she snapped. “You think the Empire will shrug and move on?”
“No,” I said. “I think they’ll burn something. Maybe Torak. Maybe Avigate. Maybe somewhere small enough to make an example of.”
She stared at me like she was weighing whether to punch me or arrest me.
“And you’re using that to corner me,” she said slowly.
I shrugged. “I’m using the truth.”
“That’s not the truth,” she said. “That’s extortion.”
“Call it whatever lets you sleep,” I said. “I’m done being polite.”
Her hands clenched. She took a breath, steadying herself like she always did before a fight.
“What do you want, Kaizen.”
There it was. The question I had been circling since the System notification burned itself into my skull.
I looked at her. Really looked. The scar near her collarbone. The stubborn set of her mouth. The way she refused to look away even when she should.
I hated that my chest tightened.
“I want you,” I said.
The words landed heavier than I expected.
She blinked. Once.
“That’s it?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “That’s the lie. Or the truth. I haven’t decided which scares me more.”
Her eyes hardened. “Don’t play games with me.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I’m terrible at games. I prefer blunt instruments.”
She scoffed. “So this is about sex.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “I won’t insult you by pretending otherwise.”
“And the rest?”
I hesitated. I hated that too.
“I can’t force the Duchess to listen,” I said. “I can’t force the Empire to hesitate. But I can make myself indispensable. I can put my body in front of something worse than me.”
She laughed then. Bitter. “You think you’re worse than the Empire.”
“I have the potential to be,” I said. “And I don’t need permission.”
Her gaze dropped for half a second. Just long enough for me to see it.
“And what happens after,” she asked. “After you save us. After you get what you want.”
“I don’t know,” I said. That part was honest. It burned.
She stepped closer until I could smell her. Leather. Steel. Soap.
“You think I don’t see what you’re doing,” she said quietly. “You dress it up like a crush so you don’t have to admit you’re using me.”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night,” I said. The words came easier than they should have. “Before the invasion. Before the forest. When things were simple enough to pretend.”
She searched my face, looking for the angle. The trick. The manipulation.
“I don’t trust you,” she said.
“Good,” I replied. “Neither do I.”
That gave her pause.
“What about Gwen,” she asked suddenly. Sharp. Deliberate.
There it was. The knife.
My stomach twisted. I pictured her asleep in that bed. Unaware. Safe. For now.
“She’s not part of this,” I said.
“She is if you’re lying,” Freya shot back. “And she is if you’re telling the truth.”
I exhaled slowly. “Gwen and I are not exclusive. We are not even dating. We just had coitus. This is the only leverage I have. The only moment where they need me more than they hate me. I’m not asking for love. I’m asking for time.”
Her lips pressed together. She looked away, just for a moment.
“And if I say no,” she asked.
“Then I leave,” I said. “And Rostalio answers questions it cannot survive.”
She turned back to me, eyes blazing.
“You’re a bastard.”
“I know,” I said softly. “That’s why this works.”
She stood there, torn between duty and fury, between the kingdom and herself. I hated that I cared. I hated that it mattered.
“You don’t get to pretend this is noble,” she said.
“I’m not pretending,” I replied. “I’m surviving.”
The room felt too small. Too quiet.
She took a breath.
“This doesn’t make you a hero,” she said.
“I don’t want to be one,” I answered. “Heroes die first.”
Her gaze lingered on me, searching for something she could break or save. I didn’t know which she wanted more.
Somewhere deep in my head, something cold and patient watched. Calculating. Waiting.
I told myself I was lying.
That made it bearable.