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Chapter 26
Not far from the river, there was a cave in the forest. Kiryion carried the Empress inside and quickly lit a fire. The heat slowly spread through the damp cave.
Soon, the Empress’s fragile body began to shiver uncontrollably.
Kiryion clicked his tongue and removed her soaked bolero. Her wet skin was revealed, pale and fragile—almost as if she wasn’t alive.
“Open your eyes, Empress. I don’t want to carry a corpse,” he growled.
But she remained unconscious, trembling as if experiencing some private agony. No matter how skilled an actress someone is, they can’t imitate the shadow of death. She had tried to scheme but was frozen on the brink of collapse. For someone who planned such a bold trap, she was surprisingly foolish.
Kiryion unbuttoned his shirt and pulled her roughly toward him. When their bare skin touched, she flinched. The cold of her wet body crept into his mind, cooling his battle-heated thoughts slightly. Yet he held her closer.
The crackle of the fire echoed through the cave.
“Ugh…”
Occasionally, the Empress moaned softly. Her faint, delicate sounds were barely audible unless you were this close. As the water on her skin evaporated, her natural scent replaced it—the raw smell of flesh instead of perfume. Each shiver of her pale neck seemed to make her scent stronger.
Kiryion recalled tasting that neck before, pressing his lips deep into her fair skin, ignoring her small movements as he licked and nibbled greedily.
“Damn it,” he murmured.
His blood focused sharply on one spot. The chill faded, replaced by dizzying heat. The memory of that night’s intoxicating scent filled his senses.
He had to cover his sight because he couldn’t meet Cerilda’s eyes, which heightened his other senses. Not even the strongest sedatives could dull them now. No wonder his desire had gone out of control.
Kiryion gripped her shoulder where the firelight glowed red. Her wet skin clung to his palm. He could almost taste it.
At that moment, the Empress opened her eyes.
“Ah…?”
Her thin eyelids fluttered like a butterfly, revealing her brown eyes, gradually focusing.
“My… my lord?” she whispered, confused.
Looking down, she suddenly noticed her bare shoulder against his chest and gasped in surprise. Kiryion smirked coldly at her.
“Already eager upon waking,” he said.
“E-eager?”
“You and the Marquis planned this, didn’t you?”
“No! I… that’s not it!” she protested, her eyes wide with confusion.
Kiryion sneered sharply and pulled her trembling body closer. He brushed his lips along her ear; she stiffened in his embrace.
“Not really? Is this what you wanted?”
“N-no! Please, hear me out!”
Her desperate plea, her moist eyes looking at him, twisted his emotions. He felt a strange, almost foolish desire to listen to her story.
“The Marquis must have thought I’d be sensitive after battle,” he growled.
“She thought that if you came into my arms, you’d fall for her,” he added, testing her reaction.
“L-lord…” she murmured.
Kiryion pressed his lips along her neck. Her smooth, soft skin trembled at each touch. The Empress, shivering in his arms, seemed like a captured prey—completely at his mercy.
He wanted to explore her deceitful body, to see if even inside she was bitter, or something else. With a single motion, he untied the belt of her dress, and she gasped. He removed her outer skirt.
A faint haze, like Cerilda’s poisonous fog, filled the air. Powder spread from her clothing, making the air thick and dizzying. The scent reminded him of the hallucinogen that had swept through the underground social circle the previous year. Nobles exposed to it had gone wild, like beasts.
Kiryion smirked. Sex, and now a hallucinogen.
“…perfect timing, Empress,” he muttered, his voice low.
She looked astonished, staring at the particles in the air as if she’d been struck.
“Skilled, as always,” he said, laughing coldly.
“How long have you been practicing? Did the Marquis do this with others too?”
“L-lord, no! That’s not—” she cried, but he pressed his lips to her mouth, silencing her.
Her tongue tasted as sweet as he remembered. She didn’t resist with tricks, yet it was intoxicating.
“Lord…!” she gasped, struggling weakly.
Her body was tense, unaccustomed to this contact. She seemed frightened, like a pure snowfield being dirtied by something she’d never seen. His low, primal desire surged.
“Please, just listen to me…!” she begged, tears in her eyes.
Her voice, sincere and desperate, quieted even his raging desire for a moment. She no longer seemed like a puppet or the Empress; now she appeared like a young, inexperienced girl—vulnerable but alive.
For the first time, Kiryion saw her simply as Lucrecia, a human being. Not the Marquis’s ward, not the Empress of the empire—just Lucrecia.
