It wasn't about a better future, or a necessary evil. It was about power, about the thrill of control, about the sheer audacity of reshaping the world according to his will, simply because he possessed the means to do so.

Levi’s smile widened, a predatory gleam in his dark eyes as he watched the horror dawn on my face. “Oh, Pulla,” he murmured, the pet name now laced with undisguised mockery. “Foolish little Pulla. I warned you, multiple times, in my own way. I told you that I cannot compensate for feelings.”

He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. “The truth is bare now, isn’t it? Right in front of you. I never had compassion, or empathy, or any of those other… quaint human traits. I was just… born like this. A deviation. You can thank the nobility’s charming tradition of inbreeding for that little quirk of my nature.”

“What the fuck…” I stammered, my mind reeling, trying desperately to cling to some semblance of the man I thought I knew. “No, okay… You are still not violent, or malicious or anything. You just… lack feelings.”

A dangerous glint ignited in Levi’s eyes, his smile vanishing. “Really, pulla? Do you think I am not violent because I cannot be? Do you have any comprehension of what I can orchestrate with a mere snap of my fingers?”

“I don’t wanna know,” I choked out, fear constricting my throat. The casual cruelty of his earlier confession had been horrifying, but this direct implication of his power, his potential for violence, was terrifying on a whole new level.

“Tch.” Levi’s lips curled in a dismissive sneer. “Do not be so shy now, Pulla. We are nearing the grand finale of our little confessional. Let me tell you one more secret. But do be very, very careful with this one.” He leaned in close, his breath ghosting against my ear.

“No, I don’t want to hear any more,” I whispered, shaking my head frantically, trying to pull away.

“Shh...” he hissed, his grip tightening on my arms, preventing me from moving. “This one… this one explains so much, doesn’t it?” His voice was a low, venomous purr. “I rendered the king infertile ten years ago.” He paused, letting the words sink in, his eyes gleaming with perverse satisfaction. “The crown prince and princess running around the palace, charming the populace? They are just some conveniently orphaned children I shipped in from some backwater village, ones who happened to share the same rather distinctive shade of the king’s hair.”

The bile rose in my throat, a burning tide threatening to spill over. My body trembled violently, a physical manifestation of the utter revulsion and terror that gripped me.

"Oh, pulla? Are you scared?" he murmured, his voice soft, almost caressing, as if speaking to a frightened animal. "Don't be. I never intended to harm you, or truly hurt you, or do anything… unpleasant to you, actually. I might sound rather… intense, even violent, when discussing broader concepts. But I assure you, Raphael, I am not. You were… amusing, in the short two weeks we have spent together. Quite unexpectedly so, in fact. How could I ever imagine even considering hurting you?"

His words were a confusing jumble.

I stumbled back, trying to put distance between us, my eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "What kind of sick game are you playing? One minute you're confessing to being a monster, and the next you're acting like we're having a pleasant chat? You think a few kind words will make me forget what you just told me? That I'll just… be your amusing little pet?"

The raw fear and disgust I felt warred with a desperate, bewildered anger. How could he be so detached, so utterly incapable of understanding the impact of his words?

Levi’s expression remained serene, almost beatific. He didn’t flinch at my accusations.

“It would be quite lovely, wouldn’t it, Pulla?” he said, his voice soft. “A comfortable arrangement, where we understand each other’s natures.” He took a step closer, unfazed by my recoiling. “But let me remind you, Raphael, you wanted this. You craved the truth. You peeled back the layers, insisted on seeing what lay beneath the surface. And here it is. No secrets, no lies, no more of that tedious noble pretense.”

His eyes lightened up again. “Ah, that reminded me. You have always been curious about my locked study. Want to take a look now?”

A chill snaked down my spine. It was as if he viewed the horrifying truths he had just revealed as mere appetizers, leading up to some grand, perverse reveal in his private sanctuary.

"My… your study?" I stammered, my mind racing. What could possibly be behind that locked door that he would offer to show me now, after confessing to mass murder and the manipulation of a dynasty? Was it a trophy room? A place where he kept mementos of his atrocities?

A faint, unsettling smile touched Levi's lips. "I watched you, Pulla," he murmured, his voice laced with a playful yet unnerving amusement. "Multiple times. The way you'd linger by the door, your fingers tracing the lock. The silent observation as I entered the code, the subtle tilting of your head as you tried to decipher the sequence. Such… dedication to uncovering mysteries."

He extended a hand towards the hallway leading to his study, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "So come now, Raphael. After all this unveiling, this shedding of pretense… doesn't your curiosity burn brighter than ever? Don't you want to finally know what secrets I keep locked away in my inner sanctum? After all," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "what's one more revelation between us now?"

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"No," I choked out, shaking my head frantically, tears welling in my eyes. "No, I don't want to see your study. I want to… leave… Please… please just let me go…"

Levi's outstretched hand remained suspended in the air for a moment, his expression shifting from eager anticipation to something unreadable. Then, a soft, almost wounded smile touched his lips. "Don't be like that, Pulla," he said, his voice gentle, almost chiding. "Why are you even asking me? You can leave anytime you want. Have I ever once not indulged your whims? Have I ever disrespected you? Have I ever betrayed your trust?" He paused, his eyes widening in what seemed like genuine surprise. "No, of course not. I am not a savage, Raphael. I would never do that."

He leaned in closer. His thumb caressed the skin where my tears were falling. “Did you know, there is just one thing, one little thing I can not do? I cannot cry. I can smile, laugh, act worried, all of it. But I can’t cry.”

His touch, meant to be soothing, felt like a brand against my skin. He was confessing to a fundamental lack, a core piece of human experience that was alien to him, while simultaneously denying the monumental betrayal I was reeling from. The disconnect was dizzying.

"Can't cry?" I repeated, the words catching in my throat, my tears still flowing unchecked. "And... and you think telling me that right now somehow makes up for... for everything else?"

He was so profoundly incapable of understanding the depth of my pain, the magnitude of his deceit, that he offered this strange, almost clinical detail as if it were a significant piece of shared intimacy.

He continued to stroke my cheek, his gaze intense and unwavering. "It is a curious thing, isn't it, Pulla? To be able to mimic the outward expressions of sorrow, to understand the concept intellectually, yet to be incapable of the physical manifestation. Perhaps... perhaps that is why I find your tears so… captivating." His words sent a fresh wave of revulsion through me. He wasn't just incapable of empathy; he was an observer, a detached scientist studying my very real pain with a disturbing fascination.

My breath hitched, a sob escaping my lips.

"You are scaring me," I whispered, my voice trembling uncontrollably. "Please... please just let me leave." Every fiber of my being screamed for escape, for distance from this beautiful, terrifying void of a man.

He finally released my cheek, stepping back slightly, granting me a sliver of physical space. "You can just walk out, Pulla," he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "The doors are not locked. I will even have the papers drawn up, send you the divorce decree without delay. But..." He paused, his gaze piercing, as if seeing straight through my fear to something deeper. "I know you, Raphael. Somewhere in there, beneath the terror and the anger, there is a sniveling, shrieking part of you... telling you to stay."

He took another step closer, his voice dropping to a low, persuasive murmur. "Because that human part of you, that naive, hopeful spark I saw from the beginning... it knows something, doesn't it? It knows you are a light, Raphael. And you can't stand for long in the dark."

He was offering a twisted narrative: that my desire to leave was merely fear, and that my true nature would compel me to stay, to somehow illuminate his darkness.

“See, pesky emotions. It is telling you stay here. Now, now. Tell me. Tell me that I am not right.”

My breath hitched, my chest tight with a conflict I didn't want to acknowledge. He was right. Beneath the terror, beneath the disgust, there was a whisper, a faint echo of the person I was before. A person who believed in connection, in understanding even the darkest parts of humanity.

Tears welled in my eyes again, not just from fear, but from a painful confusion. He was a monster, undeniably. But his words… they resonated with a buried part of me, a part I now desperately wished to silence.

"You..." I began, my voice trembling, the words caught between a sob and a denial. "You are..." I faltered, the lie caught in my throat. The truth, the terrifying truth, was that a sliver of that "pesky emotion," that foolish, naive light within me, was indeed whispering, however faintly... stay.

A strange, almost childlike delight flickered across Levi’s face. “Pulla,” he murmured, his voice soft with a bizarre tenderness. “You are so cute. Even now, facing the reality of what I am, you are still trying to… empathize. It’s truly endearing, in its own naive way.”

He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I can only manage some… cognitive empathy, if you will. A purely intellectual exercise. When I see someone stub their toe, I don’t feel their pain. Instead, I access my memory, my understanding of physical trauma. I think about the time my leg was… well, let’s just say ‘severely injured.’ That allows me to approximate an appropriate reaction, to shriek or wince convincingly. It is, truth be told, rather dreadfully tedious.”

“You hate your mom, right?” I pressed, desperate to find some crack in his emotional armor, some point of connection in his past. “You hate her because she is a cruel and proud person. Aren’t you… cruel now?”

Levi’s initial reaction was a tightening of his jaw, a brief flash of something that might have been anger. But it quickly morphed back into that unsettlingly serene smile. “Pulla. My darling, pulla,” he said, his voice regaining its soft, almost patronizing tone. “If you are referring to my adjustments to their medication, you can certainly frame it as cruelty, if you wish. Or,” he tilted his head slightly, a glint in his eyes, “you could think of it as… kindness. I simply expedited their inevitable decline. Put them out of their misery, one might say. A mercy, really.”

"I don't think it's true," I insisted, my voice trembling but firm. "I think even you don't believe it's true. You're just saying it. And even though you are a total asshole right now, I think—"

Levi cut me off with a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "What? You are going to nurture me back into a human? Fix me, Pulla? Even for you, with your boundless well of empathy, that is absurd now. Haven't I made it abundantly clear? This is who I am. There is nothing to fix."

“That’s not it. You don’t have to be fixed. You can be you, without killing people, acting like a bizarre tyrant shadow.”

A flicker of something – perhaps surprise, perhaps a hint of genuine consideration – crossed Levi's features before being quickly masked by his usual sardonic amusement. "Ah," he murmured, tilting his head slightly. "So, not a 'fix' then, but a… recalibration? A gentle nudge away from the more… enthusiastic aspects of my nature?"

"No—" I started, trying to clarify, to explain that it wasn't about stifling his nature, but about channeling it differently.

But Levi cut me off, a genuine, albeit unsettling, smile spreading across his face. "Let me entertain the thought for a while, Pulla," he mused, his eyes gleaming with a strange intensity. "Me, not doing the things I have done for the better part of my entire life. No pulling intricate tricks, no elaborate games of power, no treating the vast majority of humanity as the insignificant insects they so often prove themselves to be…" He paused, a theatrical sigh escaping his lips. "Oh, Pulla. Please accept my deepest apologies. It would be...utterly, profoundly boring."