It Seems Like The Infamous Trash Can is Right Here! - Chapter 18
He addressed the maid, his tone icy.
“Yes, master….”
The maid left with a face filled with fear and anxiety.
If she had been discovered by the good and innocent Vivian, her fate was uncertain, but she had been discovered by the master himself, and would be punished most severely.
For Dantère, it wasn’t his concern.
He would follow through on his promise to employ her at his estate if she were dismissed, but until then, her fate was Lionel’s prerogative.
“Vivian went to a tea party. It seems I made a pointless trip here.”
Lionel, cold as steel, towered over him, scrutinizing him with disdain. Dantère offered a flimsy excuse.
Feigning nonchalance, Dantère leaned against the sofa, casting a sidelong glance at Lionel.
Yet inside, his heart clenched.
For all his pretended bravado, Dantère was an expert at reading the room—his life had depended on it.
And right now, Lionel was calculating something.
Whether to discard or spare the object before him—that was the decision Lionel appeared to weigh.
A chilling sensation spread through Dantère’s entire body, as if he were teetering on the edge of a cliff.
Without question, not even in the presence of the Emperor or Axion had he ever felt such an oppressive fear.
‘Wow… this lunatic….’
He wanted to feign ignorance, to smile smoothly, but the trembling at the corners of his mouth betrayed him.
Dantère was certain: the moment Lionel’s judgment tipped toward”discard,” his head would be severed in less than a second.
It would be an utterly meaningless death.
Even though he was an illegitimate child, a nobleman with imperial blood, no one would dare confront Lionel over executing him. No one would risk crossing Luanax for his sake.
The icy sensation of his imagined execution was so vivid that Dantère unconsciously raised a hand to rub the back of his neck.
Lionel, who had been watching him impassively, took a step closer.
“Three times. That’s how far my patience extends.”
Dantère’s eyes widened.
Oddly enough, what he felt in that moment was relief—relief that Lionel, for now, had decided to spare him.
“After that, you’ll experience the worst you can imagine. Today, you’ve used one of those chances.”
“….”
Today, one chance had been consumed.
From that alone, Dantère realized.
Lionel wasn’t warning him about his relationship with Vivian.
If that were the case, he would have already burned through all three chances long ago.
Step by step, Lionel closed the distance between them until he stopped directly in front of Dantère.
Leaning forward with one hand braced on the sofa’s backrest, he brought his face close to Dantère’s, their eyes locking.
“Act as if you saw nothing, heard nothing. Do not wonder about anything.”
There was definitely something about the priestess”Sasha.”
Something far beyond the question of romantic interest—something deeply significant.
“Because if you don’t, Dantère Ortatum, you will truly….”
Lionel’s voice dropped to a harsh, ragged whisper.
“Die.”
Dantère felt as if he had glimpsed his own future in the crimson depths of Lionel’s eyes—a horrifying illusion that overwhelmed him.
He saw himself decapitated, his limbs torn apart. He saw himself hanged, or run through the heart by someone’s blade.
The vividness of those imagined deaths left him breathless.
An unbearable agony, as if he were truly experiencing each gruesome end, consumed him like a phantom pain.
“Urk… hngh….”
His entire body trembled violently, as if convulsing.
A deafening tinnitus rang in his ears, and his vision blurred.
It felt as though dozens, hundreds of whispers gnawed at his brain, eroding him piece by piece.
