CHAPTER 105
The Emperor's lips, dropping kisses on her face and neck, were incredibly gentle yet intensely stimulating.
Wherever his hot lips touched, small bursts of heat flared up, sending shivers through parts of her body she couldn't identify.
The moist sounds by her ear were erotically tantalizing, and each time she tried to escape, the Emperor's delicate, soothing caresses ensnared her.
As the Emperor bit her full lips one by one, he let out a low chuckle.
Her throat burned with the heat invading her mouth, while goosebumps rose on her skin.
Her fingers clenched the Emperor's entangled ones on the bed, and each slow circle drawn by his calloused thumb on her soft palm made her toes curl.
Her mind felt hazy as if floating on a cloud, and suddenly, Arabelle's body actually lifted into the air.
The Emperor effortlessly scooped her up with both hands and strode towards the fireplace. Placing one hand on the corner of the mantle, a small door appeared behind the fireplace.
Without releasing her lips, the Emperor unhesitatingly opened the secret door and stepped through.
Only then did Arabelle's wide eyes notice the long corridor ahead.
Memories flashed of the day after the banquet for the Empress candidates, when she had returned to the palace annex through a secret passageway.
The carvings on the walls indicated it was a different secret passage this time.
The Emperor's sharp nose playfully nudged her rounded one.
"There are only two places in the palace connected to a secret passage leading outside: my bedroom and yours. Our rooms are connected through this passage, so we can come and go without worrying about prying eyes."
‘I thought His Majesty could roam anywhere in the palace freely. So that's not the case,’ Arabelle thought, eyes widening as she tilted her head. The Emperor, gently brushing her swollen lips with his thumb, whispered.
"That damn royal custom limits the Emperor's visits to the Empress's bedroom to twice a week. I considered abolishing it before we married."
The Emperor pulled up one corner of his mouth as he gazed into her pure eyes.
"I thought sneaking through a secret passage during our honeymoon would make for memorable moments. Also, it spares us the hassle of nightly entourages of maids and guards."
The Emperor noticed that the 'every night' they imagined held different meanings. Yet, seeing Arabelle smile happily at the thought of being together every night, his red eyes sparkled in response.
The Emperor began striding again with his broad steps.
"I can walk. I woke up feeling really light."
Perhaps he didn’t hear her, as the Emperor tightened his grip, cradling her closer and moving forward swiftly.
His steps conveyed a determination to avoid unnecessary exhaustion from walking.
As the moment drew nearer, his barely held restraint threatened to snap. The kiss had to be halted to prevent Arabelle from depleting her energy here. Not a drop could be wasted. The Emperor softly pressed her head against his chin, resolving to hold back.
The problem was the growing discomfort in his lower body from carrying her soft form.
Fighting the instinct to return to the bedroom, he steadied his breathing to avoid the intoxicating scent of her skin. Each sweet breath she released onto his chest felt like a self-inflicted punishment.
‘Not yet,’ he repeated to himself.
At this moment, the Emperor summoned the patience he had honed, once waiting for two days in a muddy trench, with only his nostrils exposed, to intercept an enemy march of five thousand.
***
How long had they traversed the long corridor? The secret passage sloped downward, then twisted through flat ground before ascending a steep incline.
Though the Emperor’s iron-like muscles were hard, his embrace was cozy and comforting.
His scent, a blend of cedar and red sandalwood, exuded unmatched nobility and strength, initially overwhelming her, but now providing a sense of security.
Suddenly, fear flickered in Arabelle’s eyes.
What if she was merely a phantom created out of longing for the Emperor in the underworld? The thought expanded, fueling her anxiety.
If she couldn't reunite with the Emperor, or if he got injured coming to the underworld to save her...?
The idea of the Emperor being gravely wounded or worse in battle against the monsters chilled her to the bone.
Her small hands desperately clutched the front of the Emperor’s tunic.
She didn't care about herself, but if the Emperor had come to harm in the underworld for her sake and couldn't return to the human world... Her heart pounded wildly, ready to burst.
A warm kiss landed on her cold lips, spreading heat.
Looking up, she saw his ruby eyes banishing her fears from her damp hazel ones.
His large hand enveloped her trembling one, placing it firmly over his heart.
The Emperor's lips didn't move, but his strong heartbeat clearly told her it wasn't a dream.
Arabelle smiled, resting her head back against his broad chest.
After a while, the Emperor slowed down, and her wide eyes peeked out from his embrace to survey their surroundings.
The once chilly air of the underground passage had turned warm. Faint floral scents mingled with the sound of dripping water.
Ahead was a modest arched door without a handle, unremarkable and plain.
The Emperor pushed the small brass door, which opened slowly inward.
***
The Emperor carried Arabelle into the greenhouse on the rooftop of the southern annex of the palace.
The southern rooftop was restricted without the Emperor’s permission, a sanctuary for him to clear his mind or train his body.
The Emperor, who had never allowed anyone into this place, suddenly began constructing a glass greenhouse. He planted flowers and herbs that were clearly not to his taste and installed a romantic ceramic fountain and a cute swing.
For reasons unknown, the Emperor, who had never taken a nap, brought in a bed fit for a bedroom rather than a day bed.
When the construction of the glass greenhouse was complete, the Emperor smiled with satisfaction but then frowned. He realized that the inside was visible from the outside.
Of course, the Emperor wouldn’t mind, but the owner of the greenhouse was very shy. If the inside could be seen from the outside, the Emperor knew she would refuse most of what he intended to do with her there.
Following his orders, the craftsmen added stained glass to the outer windows, completely obscuring the interior from view.
Arabelle couldn’t hide her joy as she looked at the greenhouse, filled with nature, and burst into a radiant smile.
***
The silver moonlight, one day past the full moon, streamed down through the glass dome ceiling, casting a glow on her long brown hair.
Arabelle, having just awoken, wore a cream-colored long nightgown and gazed at the Emperor with a bare, fresh face devoid of makeup. Or more precisely, she looked down at him.
Her wide eyes, larger than the round moon hanging from the glass ceiling, took in the man before her.
Simple gold rings on the fourth fingers of both Arabelle and the Emperor indicated they had just become husband and wife.
After a brief marriage vow and ring exchange, the Emperor, now her husband, bent one knee in a chivalrous manner before her.
His respectful and disciplined demeanor was reminiscent of a man being knighted. The mesmerizing face, holding both coldness and warmth, appeared in her trembling hazel eyes.
With a more serious and solemn expression than ever before, the Emperor spoke. His powerful, deep voice filled the room.
“Please allow me the honor of becoming your only knight.”
Arabelle covered her surprised mouth with both hands.
The absolute ruler, Emperor Maxwell, was someone who would never bow his head or bend his knee to anyone.
Yet here he was, intending to pledge eternal devotion to the woman he loved, akin to a knight’s vow to his lady. Being a knight’s lady meant becoming the object of his love and devotion, even beyond mere affection.
It was unbelievable. Sweat gathered in Arabelle’s clenched fists.
The Emperor’s unwavering red eyes looked up at her.
“Grant me the greatest honor a man in love can have.”
His sincere gaze, his firm voice resonating deeply, and every courteous gesture touched Arabelle’s heart profoundly.
Their eyes locked, maintaining contact for a long time.
Arabelle broke the silence.
“I grant you the knight’s vow.”
As Arabelle granted permission, the Emperor bowed his head low towards her.
Still kneeling, he unsheathed the long sword laid beside him and held it horizontally.
Raising the sword held by both hands, he began the knight’s pledge to his wife.
“I, Maxwell de Fonte Augustus, the 27th Emperor of the Heltered Empire, the descendant of the Red Lion reborn from the egg of the Golden Dragon, the guardian of the Megsension family, and the leader of the Knights of the Glory of Blood, swear to protect you with my life, to uphold your honor, and to serve and respect you with all my heart as your only knight. Until my last breath, I shall live as your knight. Please grant me the honor of becoming your only knight.”
The Emperor kissed the blade and then offered it to Arabelle with both hands.
The silver sword, catching the light, displayed the dragon and lion insignia of the Megsension family. The black onyx scabbard was engraved with symbols commemorating the many battles the Emperor had fought and won.
Arabelle knew he would uphold his vow until death. Her eyes reddened with emotion.
Gathering strength in her trembling hands, she took the sword from the Emperor.
Lifting the heavy sword, almost her height, she carefully laid the blade horizontally.
With deliberate and calm movements, she placed the blade on the Emperor’s shoulders in turn.
Her poised and dignified demeanor as she faced the knight bowed before she radiated elegance and grace.
Arabelle raised the sword and laid the blade on the Emperor’s shoulders one by one.
Her clear and unwavering voice fell upon the crown of the Emperor’s head.
“With this sword, I grant you the honor of becoming my knight.”
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