The Tyrant's Pet

Aries narrowed her eyes, casting a judgemental look at Conan across from her. The latter cleared his throat, putting his fist before his lips.

"My lady, you don't have to just look at me like that," he muttered as her stares were starting to bother him. It was better if Aries just let it out about what happened yesterday.

"Sir Conan, did I say something that angered you? How can you send me as a tribute to appease His Majesty?"

"Hehe... my lady..." Conan sported an awkward smile while Aries frowned.

"You know His Majesty could deem my action insolence and kill me, right?" Aries pointed out to tug at his little conscience.

"My lady, please forgive me. I swear I was certain His Majesty wouldn't go to that extreme!"

Aries studied Conan in silence. Conan seemed conflicted himself, but she knew there was some truth in his remarks. He was Abel's advisor. Thus, he knew Abel more than anyone. That was why Aries wasn't really angry. She was simply highlighting this fact, so he was clear about what he owed her.

"How can you be so sure of that, Sir Conan?" she inquired with a frown. "It's not like my life is as significant as yours in here. I am a pet, remember? If I barked too much, my tongue will be cut."

"My lady..." Conan let out a sigh as he gazed at Aries. "Fine. I owe you about yesterday. What do you want from me?"

"I didn't say you owe me, Sir Conan. How dare I think like that?"

"My lady, I've been tutoring you for quite some time now. I know you're smart. You don't have to say what you want in a roundabout way since I'm not His Majesty."

Aries pressed her lips into a thin line. Honestly, Conan had a point. All her interactions with him proved Conan was someone who was rational and clever. He might act a little bit too much and nag Abel without fear of losing his life, but he was more than that. The reason Aries thought that to survive in this place, she must learn from this man.

"Sir Conan, even a pet wants to survive." She stressed, letting out a shallow breath, eyes on Conan. "I just want to know how you do it."

"How I do what?"

"Survive." She shrugged. "Everyone in the palace tread on thin ice, afraid that if they make the slightest noise, it would cost them their life. But Sir Conan is different. He is free and can talk to His Majesty comfortably. What's the secret?"

Conan's brows rose, blinking twice. "I don't have a secret, my lady. I'm just... freestyling."

"Free... what?"

"My lady, do you have any idea how many times I think of the words before they come out of my mouth?" A frown dominated his face, placing a palm across his chest as he sighed dramatically. "I'm also afraid of losing my life in here if I step out of line. I'm aging faster every year. I hadn't even gotten a chance to get married because he works me to the bone."

Aries's under eyes twitched as it seemed Conan was telling her the truth. Of course, she could relate one way or another. But not in her wildest imagination that would be his secret. Freestyle. Watching Conan get immersed in his sorrows as Abel's advisor slightly made her feel sorry for him.

"At this rate, I will just grow old alone and lonely." Conan sighed while shaking his head. When he gazed up at her, another sigh slipped past his lips. "My lady, I already told you that if you want to survive this place, just don't betray His Majesty. Even if you die, don't betray him until the very end. Just don't."

'That's strange,' she thought, pressing her lips into a thin line while keeping her silence.

"But aside from that important part, I can give you another piece of advice." Conan raised a finger. "Don't follow a pattern."

"Pattern?" she repeated, and he nodded.

"I am saying this because you can be a good ally in the future. Just don't tell His Majesty about this because he might think I am badmouthing him."

"Sir Conan, do you think I am that kind of person?"

Conan shook his head almost immediately. "Of course not! That's why I don't mind telling you this." He paused to clear his throat, leaning his arm against the round table between them.

"My lady, I think you already have a vague idea of His Majesty's temperament. He is the person who doesn't care what you can do to benefit him. It doesn't matter if you are the most beautiful lady in the world, or you are the smartest. Before His Majesty, one's identity doesn't matter. If you offend him in any way or form..."

"It means death." Aries finished his sentence since he trailed off. Conan nodded, as that may sound cruel, but it was the truth. Abel was called a tyrant for a reason.

"Then, what does count?" she inquired, getting invested in this lesson more than their real topic in history.

"What interest him!" Conan studied her expression solemnly. "As long as His Majesty is interested in a person or something — be it in a bad way or good, if good is even the right term for that — they last long. Even if you must act like a clown or bark like a dog, for as long as he was interested, do it. If you have a pattern, it'll easily bore him."

Aries remained silent. She already guessed this much, but now that Conan voiced it out, she had her confirmation.

"My lady, His Majesty is territorial. If he claims that something was his, even if it's just a pebble, no one can touch it but His Majesty," he continued with the same tone, eyes on Aries. "He can also be paranoid. If you push him too far, he might lock you up where he only knows. If he died, you will as well, since no one will ever know where he kept you. I'm not saying this to alarm you, but to give you an idea of what could happen if you push your luck too far."

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