Imperial Affairs (Levi X Reader) AU

32. His Intentions

Levi's POV

I could see all sorts of emotions on his face. Some that he could easily mask and some that took more effort.

But it didn't matter if he controlled his face, he couldn't control the messages sent to my blood that were going directly to my brain and being interpreted without even being asked to.

I could sense anger, a lot of it, enough that it was surprising that he didn't burst in a fit of fury though it was unclear who it was directed toward. I could sense fear, pure terror that he was trying to forget but couldn't. I could sense truthfulness; he wasn't lying. I could feel his sadness and the tears he held in and I could feel one more emotion that I could do more than just sympathise for, I could empathise with.

Regret.

I didn't know what he felt regret for. I could be for something he did or didn't do; I didn't know but I was sure that it was something related to the story he was telling me now.

Maybe he was scarred by the place.

Anyone would be.

The prince was still a kid. A few years earlier then that meant that he was even more of a brat. Any person would be scarred by the place let alone a kid who had had life served in a gold plate for them and luxuries fed with a jewelled spoon.

My jaw clenched in anger.

Did he not kill Isabel when he was a kid and that is what he's having regrets over? Did he have such murderous and malicious thoughts even when he was just a child?

Or maybe I'm misunderstanding and let alone the answer, even the question to be asked is completely different but my thoughts are clouded by fear of what if something happened to Isabel or Furlan? Maybe the answer is right in front of me or buried deep in my memories but I'm just shovelling more mud onto it to forget it, not realising that that is important.

Maybe I'm misunderstanding him, the prince. Maybe he's someone completely different but not the bloodthirsty bastard the stories make him to be. Or maybe he's even worse than the stories; after all, he is surviving the beast of a stepmother he has.

Maybe it's not his fault for being evil. It might be in his blood, after all, family conflicts in the English Empire's Imperial Family happen more often than not and can be so dangerous to even external forces that the news comes even to a closed off place the the Underground.

After all, psychopathy is genetic.

But then why is Isabel so normal?

No, she's not normal. She's brave. She's kind. She's sweet. She's caring. She's understanding.

Maybe it's not in his blood then.

Maybe it's just the taste of power.

Because power can do anything.

Power corrupts and rules.

Maybe he was just an innocent kid who was given a taste of power and now he is willing to destroy everyone who gets in his way to get more of it. He won't even hesitate anymore.

Or maybe he does want power like all the other shitheads but he isn't as bad as them and won't spill blood as easily.

But he still would kill if it benefitted him.

Including Isabel.

He'll either kill her or use her as some sort of tool in their Imperial game where they wage wars with a simple signature on a paper, make people disappear with a wave of their hand, make deals selling their daughters and sisters with a handshake and then pour blood of their victims out of their expensive drink bottles and gracefully drink it in a wine glass while flashing their fake smiles to the people of their station and bow and curtsy, taking care of their clothes that had been sown out of the flesh of the people that disappeared, in front of the people with higher station only to stab them in their backs after with a dagger made of rubies that shine brighter than the blood spilt on it.

Or maybe he's just a sad kid haunted by the corpses that he thinks dropped because of him and wants to prevent the rest of his people from turning into that.

But that's when I saw it on his face again.

Regret.

And then I got a hold of myself because I remembered the time I felt the most regret.

I felt it when I came back home, or rather the room that Mother was given in that shitty brothel. When she wasn't there anymore and the owner said that she had been sold and I couldn't see her again. I still remember his blood dripping down my face as it splashed on me after a simple stab to his stomach and how his goons charged at me only to end up in the same condition again a few seconds later.

But that didn't bring her back.

I don't even know if she's even alive anymore but I'm sure I won't ever see her again.

I can't make the same mistake again.

I lost her because I was stupid and thought that the deal I was getting was real and not a setup while Mother warned me and now I don't want to risk my friends and take the chance upon their lives and my fear instincts are warning me to not do it. To not tell him that she is fine because I know that he will go after her, whether to save her or kill her, I do not know.

But I won't make the same mistake again.

Because I won't risk it.

I trust them both. Furlan survived there for years before he met me. He can do that and hold out for a little longer until I get things sorted out. They can take care of themselves until I get the chance to get them out and we can go to the capital, or anywhere even the slightest better from the hellhole we come from. The place doesn't need to be grand like Furlan wants it to be. I'll even give up my dream. I just want them to be safe.

Because they are my reason to live.

"Ahem," The prince cleared his throat while looking at me with his (e/c) eyes full of sadness but it seemed like he was recovering.

Or more like he was distracting himself.

"Does that answer your questions?"

"Yes, Your Highness," I closed the book in my hands as I went to put it back, trusting the prince's answers because he had no reason to lie. I was hoping to find out how he ended up in the Underground. I was sure that it wasn't just a little kindergarten excursion assignment because the Underground wasn't a playground.

Maybe it was the Empress who wanted to rid the world of the prince and get rid of a rival which had become a major one now but what was she thinking, throwing a child down there?

"Why did you go there, Your Highness?" I let my curiosity get the best of me.

"I thought you were done with the questions," the prince sighed, "Like I said, I was taken there. By who? I'm sure you can guess that."

"And how many years ago was that?" I grabbed another book, a novel this time and took my seat in front of the prince.

"Eight. No. Nine years ago," The prince thought, "Or was it ten years ago?"

"I get the idea-"

"No. No," The prince shushed me by putting a finger of his gloved hand to my lips, "Why can't I remember?"

"People forget, Your Highness."

"But why can't I remember?" The prince looked away, "I should remember. I-"

He gasped fearfully.

"I can't remember her."

A/N = What's Marco's favourite drink? Half and half.

December 28, 2022

- Heliaxa