Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy) - Chapter 102: Chapter 102

Emeric sat with one long leg crossed over the other, a glass of deep purple wine in hand. He resided on a velvet sofa, his other arm mindlessly draped over the back, waiting in silence for his guest to arrive.
At last, a light knock came from the door.
"Your Highness," a servant's voice squeaked from the other side. "Mister Mulock is here to see you."
"Perfect, show him in."
The door creaked open and the advisor reluctantly entered. Mulock's expression remained blank, yet there could be no mistaking the loathing simmering beneath his gaze.
"Have a seat," Emeric said with an easy smile, gesturing to the matching velvet arm chair across from him. "That is, unless you'd prefer my lap again."
"Yeah, I'll take the chair," Mulock answered flatly.
Emeric absently waved a hand at a servant who scurried out with a silver tea tray, carefully placing it down on the table between them.
"I'm glad you came," Emeric said, taking a sip of his wine.
"I figured I didn't have a choice."
Emeric smirked. "That was an accurate assumption."
"My assumptions usually are."
"Really?" Emeric mused, arching a brow. "Then what were your assumptions about me?"
Mulock smiled thinly. "I'd rather not get executed."
"What a shame," Emeric said. "Your head would look lovely on a spike."
"I'm afraid I must disagree. I've heard maggots and rot tend to ruin one's complexion."
Emeric chuckled. "I suppose you're right. And besides, you're far too useful to die over something so trivial."
"I assume that's why you called me here," Mulock said icily. "And so now I must regretfully inform you that I'd rather die than let you use me as a weapon against Wheeler."
"I see," Emeric replied, bringing his glass back to his lips. "So you really love my brother enough to die for him?"
"Yes." The response came without a moment's hesitation.
"Well," Emeric murmured, "that's a shame." He glanced at the servant who gave a quick nod, picking up the porcelain teapot before carefully pouring the caramel colored liquid into a cup. She placed a small saucer beneath it before handing it to Mulock.
Mulock accepted the tea with a wry smile but made no move to bring the cup to his lips. "You know, offering me tea would be far more hospitable if you didn't poison it."
Emeric rested his chin on his palm. "Damn, was it that obvious?"
"For your next attempt, I might suggest slightly better timing. Offering me tea directly after bringing up my demise was a bit of a give away."
"Noted."
"And perhaps you could add some mint or rosemary to mask the smell." He absently stirred the murky liquid with one finger. "Whatever you used smells rather pungent."
Emeric smirked. "You think you're rather smart, don't you?"
"Your words, not mine." Mulock leaned back, placing his cup back down on the table. "Though, I don't think it would take a genius to see through your painfully obvious plan."
"You're absolutely right," Emeric mused. "An actual genius would have realized the tea was just a ploy to distract you."
The moment the words left his mouth, the man standing behind Mulock's chair moved forward, plunging a syringe into the side of the advisor's neck.
Mulock let out a heavy sigh. "Fucking shit." And with that, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body went slack, sinking down into the chair.
"Tie him up," Emeric ordered, rising to his feet. He brought his wine glass back to his lips, drinking deeply. When he finally lowered it, a smirk rested on his face. "Well, Mulock," he murmured as the restrained advisor was scooped up by one of his guards, "you're about to help me ruin your sweet little Wheeler's life." He chuckled. "And you won't even know it until it's far too late."
Let's see how Wheeler's 'kindness' would help him now.