The guards dragged the French servant forward, wrists rubbed raw by iron restraints. The chamber reeked of damp stone, sweat, and panic. Edgar watched the man's trembling with cool detachment, the way one might observe a wounded bird battering itself senseless against a cage.
Pathetic.
The heavy door groaned shut.
Edgar removed his gloves slowly, one finger at a time, rolling the fine leather between his palms before setting them aside.
Each movement was deliberate. Measured. The servant's breathing hitched when Edgar finally turned toward him, his smile unfurling with serpentine leisure.
"Now then."
Edgar murmured, voice steeped in false kindness as he closed the distance.
"You and I are going to have a conversation."
He reached out, brushed damp hair from the man's brow.
"Would you prefer it civilized?"
He continued softly.
"or otherwise?"
The servant recoiled.
"I-I know nothing!"
Edgar sighed, the sound indulgent.
"Oh, mon ami. Let's not begin with lies."
His fingers curled under the man's chin, forcing his gaze upward.
"You wouldn't be here if you were merely disposable."
Silence stretched.
Edgar felt it then. Not fear. Not desperation.
Calculation.
Edgar's grip tightened.
Oh.
Interesting.
Fear was crude.
Predictable.
This was something else entirely.
Edgar smiled.
The servant didn't answer.
But the corner of his mouth twitched.
Edgar laughed under his breath and released him.
"Guards. Leave us."
They hesitated.
"Now."
The door shut.
Edgar circled the servant slowly, the click of his shoes echoing off stone.
"Let's try again."
He purred.
"Who sent you?"
"I told you."
The servant said hoarsely.
"I know nothing."
"Yet your eyes are bright."
Edgar replied, stopping inches from him.
"Alert. Curious. No one sends an imbecile for a task like this."
He tapped the man's temple, almost gentle.
"You're clever. Resourceful. You've done this before."
The servant swallowed. Said nothing.
Edgar leaned in, caging him against the wall with one arm.
"Now then."
He murmured, breath brushing the man's lips.
"Shall we discuss how you truly found your way into my father's court?"
The servant's gaze flicked toward the door.
Edgar caught his chin sharply.
"Eyes on me."
His thumb dragged across the man's bitten lip, smearing blood.
"You have three choices."
Edgar continued conversationally.
"One, you tell me everything. Two, I'll make you tell me."
He leaned closer.
"Or three… you make this entertaining."
"..."
The servant made a sound.
Edgar frowned.
It wasn't a sob.
It was laughter.
Snickering at first. Then full, unrestrained cackling that bounced off the chamber walls.
"There it is."
The servant gasped between laughs.
"Option three. I was beginning to worry you'd forgotten how much fun pain can be."
Edgar recoiled half a step, control slipping for the first time.
No one laughed at Edgar Wolfenstein.
No one.
"Care to explain the joke?"
He asks, eyes narrowed, tone freezing.
The laughter only grew.
When it finally subsided, the servant wiped tears from his eyes, gaze glinting with manic delight.
"You have no idea."
He said softly.
"Who you're dealing with, darling."
The endearment struck like a blade.
"Don't call me that."
Edgar growled.
The servant grins wider.
"Oh, but you should remember me."
"Should I?"
Edgar asks coolly.
"Oh, absolutely."
Edgar leans in, thumb brushing the man's lip again, too soft, too intimate.
"Then enlighten me."
A pause.
For the first time since this conversation began, Edgar sees something like fear there.
Not the terror he's used to.
It's different.
As if the servant's confidence has been rocked by something more than just Edgar's threat.
But it lasts for naught but a moment before the expression on the servants face changes from that of fear to unreadable.
Before doing the unthinkable.
The servant kisses him.
Brief. Gentle. Over before Edgar can react.
Edgar's face burns, his hand instinctively lifting to his lips.
"What-"
The servant beams.
Edgar lunges, slamming him into the wall, fist tangled in his hair.
"Try that again and I'll have your tongue nailed to my door."
The man shudders.
Not in fear.
But in pleasure.
"Oh, mon loup."
The nickname sends ice through Edgar's veins.
"You wouldn't like it..if you knew who I was."
The nickname detonates something behind Edgar's eyes as he recoils in pain, his head thudding like a war drum as he feels a faint ringing in his ears.
He shoves the man back.
"You are a pest. One who has overstayed his welcome."
He snaps, his vision close to fading to black.
Then:
Cool hands steady him.
"Not yet, mon amour."
A voice murmurs, close, familiar.
"Breathe."
The door bursts open.
Guards flood the chamber.
In one smooth motion, the servant hauls Edgar upright, a dagger pressed to his throat.
"Tell the Kaiser."
He says sweetly, menace curling beneath every word.
"That the deal is off. And if he wants his heir back alive…"
The blade kisses Edgar's skin.
"…then he'll have to catch me."
The world tilts.
Darkness closing in
And just like that…
Edgar Wolfenstein knew nothing more.