Uncomfortable and awkward. 

No other word described the situation better. It would’ve been weirder if things weren’t awkward.

Everything was alright in the morning. Sepehr woke up as usual, went through his morning routine, and then waited on the Crown Prince as usual. But the atmosphere shifted drastically as soon as they were inside the carriage. 

「I knew it was the wrong way to end the evening.」

To Zen, a few things always seemed too troublesome. Like, high-collared shirts and complicated relationships. Sepehr was currently suffering through both.
「He must be suffocating.」
There was no way to tell because, as usual, Sepehr showed no emotion. He sat with perfect posture, hands resting lightly on his lap.

The cause of the problem was, however, pretending to be unaware of the issue. Looking outside the window as the carriage passed through the fields. But his discomfort showed in how he drummed his fingers on the window rest and how his gaze landed on Sepehr every few minutes before darting away. 

If it were up to Zen, he surely would’ve snapped. But Sepehr wasn’t like that. He was ten times more capable of acting like nothing happened. It was still unclear if Sepehr even had the right to snap given his position.

After another thirty minutes of the uncomfortable silence, Ambrose finally spoke.

“Sepehr, you look tired.” It was a pitiful attempt to break the silence. But at least he took the chance, otherwise Zen would have placed him lower on the scale than he already did.
「Bravo Your Tyrant Highness!」

“I didn’t get enough rest, that must be why.” Sepehr replied, “It’s rather suffocating to wear high-collared shirts in summer. But I’ll manage.” 

Zen was taken aback by the remark, as was Ambrose. 

“...You don’t need to button up that high,” Ambrose replied after a pause. 

It was unlike Sepehr to complain. 

Zen wasn’t aware of this but Sepehr usually went forward to do what was required of him regardless of the backlash. He practically never complained.

Ambrose couldn’t even remember the last time Sepehr had complained about something. 

“How thoughtful of you, Your Highness. But I’m afraid my face would be on the posters the next day if I did so.” He spoke plainly, although with a hint of sarcasm. 

「That far? Why? Are relationships crimes around here?」

Zen found the comment funny but couldn’t understand what Sepehr meant because as far as he knew, there wasn’t such a rule in this world.  But Ambrose understood.

Sepehr was more than allowed to do whatever he wanted as long as it didn't go against the crown, particularly, the crown prince. 

However, as a person of position, his personal life was of utmost curiosity to high society. Imagine him walking around with such an obvious mark on his neck. Speculations would skyrocket in no time. Which, in the end, would pull in the royal family because that's his workplace. 

So, no, Sepehr didn't have the luxury of doing however he pleased. His personal freedom was an illusion, more so than the noble ladies. 

"Ahem. I apologize.” 「Oh, an apology from the tyrant himself?」“I had one too many drinks so I wasn't thinking clearly." 

「I thought we were jumping over that fact?」

 Zen naturally thought they were to avoid mentioning the specifics of the issue. After all, this was not a small issue. Not talking about it at all would be the safest option. 

But it was still a lie. Zen knew from reading the novel that Ambrose had a very high tolerance. It wasn't even possible to drink the amount he needed to get tipsy at the party. Not to mention there weren't many strong drinks there.

Sepehr probably knew this much, but Zen assumed he too would look over it. "It’s alright, Your Highness. Please don’t trouble yourself over it.”

Ambrose’s gaze turned odd as if he was expecting more reprimand. 

「Is this how people dealt with things in the past, or is it just them?」

「Are they playing an emotional tug of war?」

Ambrose was about to say something, but the chance never came as the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

「This again?」

There was a commotion outside. Before Zen could check, the door burst open, and a sword was pointed at Sepehr.
No, it was pointed at the crown prince. Sepehr was only between the weapon and the target. 

「What just happened?」It all happened so fast, Zen was still processing things, as were the others. 

“You fool. Do you think you can stop a sword with your body?” The assailant laughed. It wasn’t that Sepehr didn’t know that. One inch; it was just a one-inch difference between him and the tip of the longsword. If the attacker had not stopped, the sword would have pierced through him and even the prince. Sepehr reacted before thinking of any of that.

Instincts. Something that was innate in every human being and animal. It could have their lives in a crucial moment. So, Zen never thought instincts could land someone at sword point. 

“I’ve heard old stories about how royal advisors were to put their king's lives before them,” he scrutinized Sepehr from head to toe. “Even if that’s true, how would you protect someone with that weak body of yours?” Sepehr had suddenly become a weak fool, “It would be easier than—”

The words were cut short as a cold knife touched the attacker's throat. “Drop your weapon.” 

*Clank.*

Several black-clothed individuals landed behind the attacker following the arrival of the first.
Zen recognized them upon seeing the sword and crescent symbol on their clothes. The Black Crescent. Ambrose’s secret guard squad. In the novel, they did everything as per his orders, and no one knew of them other than Ambrose. 

“Your Highness, we’re sorry we couldn’t act sooner. They hid among the guards and changed the route midway, so we were delayed,” One of the black-clothed people spoke as he bowed. 

“You arrived fast enough,” Sepehr replied and the man bowed again. 

“Kill him.” Hearing the common command he read throughout the novel, Zen looked. Ambrose’s gaze looked empty. His eyes were looking forward, but it was as if he was in a trance. 「Is he in shock?」

「Do people usually give such commands in a state of shock?」

“Your Highness, he needs to be interrogated,” Sepehr interjected. 

Ambrose didn’t even glance at Sepehr. “Take someone else from the group for interrogation,” he said, now in a colder tone, “Kill him this instant. It’s an order.” 

The guards hesitated. Judging by his appearance, the man was likely the head of the group, killing him would be a loss. They all knew that much. But they couldn’t go against the order. 

“As you command.” The man acted as soon as he spoke, but the result was unexpected.” 

“Wait.”