CHAPTER 042
In the chaotic scene filled with screams and cries, a gleaming blade was about to fall upon her neck.
“Close your eyes.”
The steady, low voice resonated clearly in Arabelle's ears.
Even in that short moment, the silhouette she missed came into her blurry vision. At the Emperor's command, Arabelle squeezed her eyes shut.
Before the sharp steel could touch her skin, the rough hand gripping her shoulder loosened. Then, with a thud, the leader of the traffickers, who had held Arabelle hostage, fell backward to the floor without a sound.
“Do not open your eyes.”
The Emperor's voice, calm and cold, came from right beside her.
Although the sounds of clashing swords and the screams of traffickers and hostages mixed around her, Arabelle kept her eyes closed as the Emperor had instructed.
Even without hearing the Emperor's voice, Arabelle knew. The mere belief that he was by her side allowed her to stand on her trembling legs.
Every time the sound of the sword whistled, the cool wind brushed through Arabelle's hair.
And then, the silence came, so deep that not even a breath could be heard.
Arabelle still did not open her eyes, standing in place with her hands gripping her dress, as if waiting for someone, unshaken.
When long arms gently lifted her by the waist, her feet left the ground, and her slender body was enveloped in a reliable embrace.
As Arabelle's head rested against the now-familiar broad and solid chest, she could feel the strong heartbeat.
The faint scent of mint and sandalwood that accompanied him calmed Arabelle's heart. Even without opening her eyes or hearing his voice, Arabelle knew who was holding her.
Warm lips briefly touched the top of her head and then disappeared, causing Arabelle to bury her face in the Emperor's chest and release the tears she had been holding back, silently.
Finally, her thin shoulders, connected to the arms clinging to the Emperor's neck, began to shake uncontrollably.
***
Emperor Maxwell, holding Arabelle, easily mounted his waiting horse, Maximus, and took the reins with one hand.
"I will return to the palace tomorrow morning, be prepared."
As he finished speaking, the Emperor quickly rode off, leaving Commander Jacob and the guards bowing behind him.
On the road leading to the capital villa, slightly distant from the plaza, the Emperor glanced at Arabelle's slender arms wrapped around his neck and thought.
Previously, she would tense up, not knowing what to do even if we just touched. It seems she has been quite shocked.
The original plan was to show her around the capital under the pretext of investigating fake jewels, but the unexpected commotion had briefly made him consider returning to the palace with the guards.
However, seeing her trembling and crying quietly in his arms, he couldn't send her back to the villa alone.
At the villa, the maids would take care of her, but... I wouldn't be able to be by her side.
It was the first time he felt as if all the blood was draining from his body in an instant.
Unable to find a precise word for the emotions he had just experienced, the Emperor's lips tightened, and his jaw clenched strongly.
It was not anger or hatred towards the traffickers or the situation. It wasn't fear either. It wasn't even the thrill he felt when cornering reckless adversaries.
The unfamiliar emotion coursing through him didn't make his blood boil but rather chilled it. Even at nine years old, when his grandfather aimed an arrowhead at his heart in the mountains, he hadn't felt this way.
It was a feeling he had never experienced or desired to experience in his life...
As the tension left her body, Arabelle's arms slid down from the Emperor's neck. When her warmth left his neck, the Emperor's brows furrowed.
Though she was still in his arms, the moment her body moved slightly away from his, anxiety surged within him. His heart ached, and his throat felt tight.
At that moment, Emperor Maxwell realized the word for the emotion he had felt when he saw Arabelle taken hostage.
Desperation. It was desperation.
The sound of bells announcing the curfew began to ring from the tower, echoing through the plaza.
As they passed through the dark streets of the plaza where lamps were being extinguished one by one, the Emperor's red eyes grew darker.
***
The Emperor's secret villa in the capital.
As the Emperor washed his bloodstained body under cold water, he tried to rationalize the damn emotion he had just discovered. His logical and rational mind, which had never betrayed him, worked quickly.
It was the brain that could clearly analyze and provide answers to any difficult situation, including reasons, processes, and outcomes.
The 'desperation' he felt in the flower shop... was a temporary emotion caused by the danger to the key to breaking his curse. Losing the key would mean he could not break the curse, so feeling desperate was only natural.
"If her life is in danger, it would ultimately hinder breaking my curse. That's why I felt that emotion, nothing more, nothing less."
Repeating this like a mantra, his heart felt lighter.
It was similar to the uncontrollable anger he felt when he received reports of her being humiliated at the banquet, which made him draw his sword impulsively.
If a woman who saved my life is disrespected, it is only human nature to be angry. Even beasts repay their saviors; it's only natural for a human like me to care for her.
Emperor Maxwell dredged up words like human nature and honor, which he usually scorned, to find a satisfactory reason for his feelings.
Dressed in a light gray tunic and comfortable black pants that narrowed below the knee, the Emperor spoke.
"Is the lady's bed prepared?"
"Th... That is, Your Majesty. We couldn't enter the bedroom to prepare it for her."
The villa keeper's wife, who had brought a tray of water and fruits for the night, bowed her head as she answered the Emperor's question.
The modest two-story house, a bit distant from the bustling streets of the capital plaza, was a secret place the Emperor used during his incognito visits. The elderly couple, who had retired from the palace, were the only ones responsible for managing the villa.
"What do you mean? The lady must be exhausted from the shock, and you didn't even assist her with her bath?"
Narrowing his eyes, the Emperor asked, and the villa keeper's wife answered honestly.
"The young lady pleaded so earnestly not to enter the bedroom that we couldn't force our way in."
The Emperor knew that when Arabelle first started being attended to by Vera and the three maids, she felt very awkward and uncomfortable. Unable to just watch, the Emperor had threatened her, saying, "If you continue to refuse their service, they will become useless. That means they have no reason to stay by your side, and they will lose their jobs."
Frightened, Arabelle had allowed the maids to attend to her and had gradually grown accustomed to it.
After sending the maid back to the first-floor quarters, the Emperor, who was stroking his chin with his long fingers, furrowed his brows.
She might be injured. The thought that she might have refused the maids' help to hide her wounds struck him, and he found himself already at her bedroom door, knocking.
“Are you alright?”
Maintaining a calm voice with effort, the Emperor asked, and a small voice came from beyond the door.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Please, sleep well.”
“Are you already planning to sleep?”
“Yes... I am a bit tired and wish to retire early.”
Such a poor liar. The Emperor clicked his tongue slightly, staring at the door.
“Didn't we agree to appraise the counterfeit jewels together? We must finish it before returning to the palace tomorrow morning.”
There was a brief silence as if Arabelle was flustered.
“Well... I'm very sleepy right now. Could we do it tomorrow instead?”
“If you are that tired, I suppose I must see the jewels myself. To do so, I need to take the jewel boxes delivered to your room. Please open the door so I can retrieve them.”
A longer silence followed as if Arabelle was hesitant to answer.
“Lady Arabelle.”
The Emperor's lowered voice called her name, but no sound came from the bedroom.
However, the Emperor’s keen ears, trained on the battlefield, caught a faint sigh. He commanded once more in a quiet voice.
“Lady Arabelle, open the door.”
Hearing her anxious breathing trickling into his sensitive ears, the Emperor's jaw clenched tightly.
She must be injured and trying to hide it. She didn’t mention it despite being hurt. Does this mean she still feels uncomfortable around me? Feeling inexplicably twisted by the distance she maintained, he stared at the doorknob.
“If you don’t open the door, I will break it down.”
Just as his hand reached for the doorknob, the door slowly clicked open, and Arabelle's face peeked out through the crack.
Her large eyes were slightly red as if she was about to cry, looking up at him pitifully. Her small round face, combined with the red eyes, made the Emperor's crimson eyes momentarily waver but soon returned to their original sharpness.
Seeing Arabelle wrapped tightly in a bed sheet from her chin down, the Emperor thought his guess was correct. She must have been injured by the slavers' swords.
Although the one who was struck squarely in the forehead by his thrown dagger was already in hell, a sudden urge to dig up the corpse and tear it apart surged through him, making him grind his teeth.
“Why are you wrapped in a sheet?”
Believing she was hiding her injuries from him, Maxwell quietly inquired. Arabelle's face flushed deeper as she bowed her head.
“It’s just... cold...”
“This villa is known for its excellent heating even in mid-winter. If you’re cold, I can increase the heat.”
“No, it’s fine. It will be okay once I’m in bed.”
As the Emperor pushed into the room, Arabelle hastily answered, clutching the edges of the sheet wrapped around her. Her hands shook imperceptibly.
The door clicked shut behind them. Arabelle's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at the Emperor.
With her gaze captured, he slowly approached. As his tall, large frame came close, casting a shadow over her small feet, he spoke.
“You’re hurt.”
Startled, Arabelle shook her head vigorously, making her eyes appear even larger.
“Where is it? Where were you injured?”
His long, firm finger traced along her slender jawline, slowly moving down her neck.
Unable to withstand the ticklish, heated sensation, Arabelle shrank her shoulders. The Emperor’s finger started to intrude beneath the edge of the sheet covering her neck.
“Where is it? The injury?”
The chilling voice mixed with the warm touch of his finger wrapped around her neck.
Tightly closing her eyes, Arabelle shook her head forcefully, and the Emperor's voice sounded right next to her ear.
“Didn’t I tell you to look at me when you’re with me? If you don’t, I will assume you’re lying to me.”
Peeking through her long eyelashes, her large, round eyes met the Emperor’s face, close enough to touch.
“Am I still that difficult to face? Are you so hurt that you can’t even tell me?”
Unable to avoid his cold, crimson gaze, Arabelle responded.
“No, Your Majesty. I am not hurt. Didn’t you save me?”
“If you’re not hurt, then show me. If there’s no wound on your neck, then it’s fine.”
Feeling the tremor in her hands gripping the sheet, a chill entered the Emperor’s voice.
“Do you think of me as a thug from the back alleys? Do you fear I will command you to strip beneath the sheet to see the wound?”
Shaking her head immediately, Arabelle saw the Emperor’s sigh and stepped back as if he had given up.
“If you’re injured, you need proper treatment. If you don’t want to show me, show the villa keeper’s wife.”
Thinking she still feared him from the incident in the carriage, the Emperor’s concern for her possible injuries outweighed his disappointment.
“I’ll send the villa keeper’s wife up. Make sure you get treated.”
He turned to leave, but a small hand grabbed his garment.
“That’s not it. I’m not injured. Berra... Berra... gave me...”
One eyebrow arched as the Emperor looked down at Arabelle clutching his clothes.
“Berra? Isn’t she your maid from the former Count Laurel’s household? What did she give you?”
Gathering her resolve, Arabelle released the sheet's edge she had tightly held. The sheet fell, revealing her slender body.
As she said, her neck was unblemished, glowing softly in the lamplight. Yet, the Emperor's long, muscular neck tensed, veins standing out sharply.
His eyes, taking in the sight before him, darkened like a deep lake suddenly set ablaze, filled with intense, smoldering heat.
Comments
Post a Comment