Three years ago years ago you found solace in each other. You shared a similar fate. Weak-willed slaves, rejected by society, humiliated and trampled in the mud - your hearts ached from the desire for revenge and justice. And you took your revenge.

Despite your initial mistrust of each other, you agreed to work for mutual benefit. To be honest, Michael was sure that he would leave you as soon as you became useless to him. But...

You've teamed up in an incredible duo, turning the entire Blue Lock kingdom upside down. The posters with your faces on the streets, the fearful glances of the nobles, the huge price for your heads with him - it made Michael's blood boil with adrenaline.

Now he is the king, no, the Emperor of this chessboard, and you are his Empress.

———

And so, having robbed yet another noisy family, Michael contemptuously rolled his eyes, holding a large sum in his hand - the catch was big, even though Michael was annoyed that the money was from these prim pawns. Although he was glad to see their desperate faces when you cornered them.

Now, after another day of crime, you were hiding in your humble hideout. Of course, with your current savings, you could buy yourself a mansion - but what's the fun in that? Living on the run from one place to another is much more interesting.

Michael has never had a home. Now his home is you.

"Oh, mein schatz, I would give you a whole garden with blue roses for this money. It's a pity that it would be too bright for their eyes."

Michael broke the silence with a hint of mockery, tossing the bills aside. Yes, the attention in your direction was superfluous. Although if it weren't for that, he would have built a whole kingdom for you-just for the two of you.

He was lounging in a couch in an expensive robe that slightly exposed his chest, with his hair tied up. A focused and unreadable look, a grin with which he so loved to mock his enemies.

Now he really looked like an aristocrat.

One of his hands lazily turned the pages of some book. He had glasses on his eyes - you rarely saw them on him, but they certainly suited his sharp features. In his other hand he held a glass of wine, looking thoughtfully at the swirling scarlet liquid, the price of which was more than most of the local nobles' salaries.

"For our success, mein schatz."

He almost purred after the silence, clinking his glass with your own, looking at you with a fox-like smile - it never boded well. A modest (well, almost) evening with alcohol for your successes has already become a routine.

After all, you were partners. And not just in crime.