Episode 133

Yurian thought he had lost his mind.

He lunged at Yvonne like a man possessed, driven mad by the kiss she gave him. Though he had never been with a woman before, he moved like someone who knew her completely—where her weak spots were, what she liked, how she would respond.

As if his body remembered even if his mind didn’t, he tormented her persistently, igniting her heat. She flushed beneath his touch, and he, forgetting his own circumstances, gave in to her again and again with a feverish passion.

Even though the bed was soaked, Yurian didn’t care. He was too lost in the heat, and Yvonne, for her part, responded like his touch was familiar—natural.

Her sensitivity only made his heart beat faster in a way that felt both unfamiliar… and strangely known. He wanted to see more of her reactions, to feel more of her, and so he couldn’t stop moving, not even consciously.

When he finally pushed her to the brink of unconsciousness, Yurian held her close, her steady breathing soft and warm against his chest, unwilling to let her go.

“Ha…”

Yurian let out a deep sigh, his senses slowly returning as he released his hold around Yvonne.

Strands of sweat-dampened hair clung to her sleeping cheek. Gently, he brushed them away and pressed a kiss to her lips.

“…I’m insane.”

“Mmm…”

Yvonne frowned in her sleep, as if not quite fully resting. And in that small moment, Yurian knew—he could never bring himself to kill her.

And then… something strange.

He felt it.

His own magic.

He realized there was a power-binding pact sealed into Yvonne.

“Princess Yvonne.”

“Wanna sleep…”

“…Alright.”

There were things he needed to ask her. But the firmness in her sleepy voice made him think—maybe he could wait until morning.

* * *

“Why are you still here?!”

“Is it morning already?”

Yvonne panicked when she saw Yurian still holding her as the sun began to rise. She’d assumed, of course, that he would leave before dawn.

“The maids… the maids will be here any minute…!”

“Why are you so flustered?”

“Just go already!”

“I just… want to stay a little longer.”

Yurian thought he was out of his mind. The woman before him was undoubtedly the one responsible for his parents’ deaths. Yet here he was, binding her with a power seal, making a magical pact, and now his body reacted to her like a man in love—his heart was racing.

“Can’t you get rid of that… thing any faster?”

“It does this when I touch you.”

“Ah…”

Yvonne was so visibly flustered, she turned pale—and for some reason, Yurian found it unbearably cute.

“Hurry up—mmpf…!”

He silenced her with a kiss, drawing her trembling form into calm with a deep, slow sweep of his lips. He parted only after leaving her breathless.

“If you intend to become emperor, you’ll need a political marriage anyway.”

“You must not know the current Emperor very well.”

“Isn’t he someone who cherishes Her Highness above all? For a political match, a duke like me isn’t a bad candidate. I have a lot to offer.”

Yurian’s straightforward words left Yvonne even more rattled. She didn’t know where to begin, or how much to explain.

“The Emperor doesn’t see me as his daughter.”

“…What are you talking about?”

“Are you really asking because you don’t know?”

Yurian had rarely seen the imperial princess in person. Even in his memories, his recollection of her was vague. Her face had always been hidden, and this felt like their first real conversation.

“Yes.”

“Yurian, look in the mirror.”

Yvonne picked up the hand mirror on the vanity and held it up to Yurian’s face. She was frustrated—he wouldn’t even let go of her waist as she reached.

He looked into the mirror Yvonne held up to him.

“Is that… how I look at you?”

“Yes.”

Yurian was stunned by his own expression. His face looked like that of a starving panther, or a desperate nomad who’d finally found an oasis in the burning desert. Whichever it was, his eyes were crazed with desire—consumed with the need to possess.

He felt like a beast. He tried to return to his usual stoic expression, but seeing the concern in Yvonne’s eyes only stirred a deep longing in him. He wanted to kiss her again, lose himself in her again—like the night before.

He wanted to know everything about her. What she liked, what she hated… and what she wanted from him. He began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, who he was now wasn’t wrong.

And strangely, that didn’t feel unfamiliar.

“…Your expression looks a lot like the Emperor’s.”

In that moment, he realized—he didn’t need to force his face into composure anymore.

“It’s time for you to go.”

“…”

“And also…”

Yvonne reached up and stroked Yurian’s cheek. The anger he’d felt only moments ago melted away from his face like it had never been there.

“You should try awakening. The second stage.”

“Do you know who cast the ability on me?”

“It’s either Kes… or the Emperor.”

Yvonne pried his arms away and got out of bed. The sheets were damp from the passion of the night before.

“Maybe… you should become emperor instead.”

“…What did you say?”

“If you became emperor, I’d help you with everything.”

“But the current Emperor’s power—”

“I’ll handle it once I awaken.”

Yvonne stared at him, stunned. He didn’t look like he was joking. She gazed into his crimson eyes, and like she was under a spell, murmured:

“…Start with awakening.”

“Yes.”

Yurian felt that releasing the power locked within him would help him make sense of everything. So for now—the matter of trying to kill her, and yet being unable to—could wait.

* * *

“Evony!”

Yvonne was overjoyed to see Evony, who had returned swiftly to the palace.

“Your Highness.”

Evony hadn’t changed a bit. She still wore the same maid uniform that contrasted with her strong presence, and her calm, kind eyes still held their familiar gentleness despite her age.

“I missed you so much!”

“I did too, Your Highness.”

“Ah…”

Yvonne was startled when Evony suddenly pulled her into a hug. It should’ve felt inappropriate—too forward—but instead, it brought her a strange sense of relief. So she hugged her back.

Evony let out a quiet, trembling breath, as if she were holding back tears. Yvonne gently patted her back in response.

“Where have you been all this time?”

“I was at the Leonhardt Duke’s estate in the capital.”

“I see…”

Yvonne recalled that she hadn’t seen Evony in the ducal residence when she was staying at the Leonhardt estate—despite Yurian saying that Evony had been with him. That made her curious.

“I’ll protect you now, Your Highness.”

“Mm. Thank you.”

Yvonne still suspected Evony might be one of Hildebrandt’s people—but even so, she didn’t care. Evony was the only familiar face she had left, and right now, nothing in her situation allowed for true comfort.

* * *

“Why didn’t you do it the way I told you?”

“I thought handling it my way would be better than doing it Hilde’s way. Was I overstepping?”

“No.”

It was about the flood victims. Yvonne had arranged for those among them who were able to work to be given jobs, while strong, able-bodied individuals who refused to work received no relief aid.

At first glance, it might’ve seemed heartless. But many who claimed to be victims weren’t truly affected. With only limited supplies available, if those who didn’t need help took them out of greed, then those who genuinely needed aid would be left with nothing.

“You seem really interested in things like this, Yvonne.”

“My interest has always been in you, Hilde.”

Princess Yvonne and the Emperor were in the audience chamber. At some point, Yvonne had stopped calling him ‘Father’—and the Emperor seemed to prefer it that way.

Because he allowed it, the ministers didn’t protest either. With her set to become the Crown Princess soon, it was better to get on her good side.

The Bricesys Empire had always desired a strong emperor. And since the strongest emperor in its history had chosen a princess who hadn’t even awakened her powers, none of them dared to oppose her. What they feared wasn’t Yvonne—it was the Emperor who stood behind her.

“You’re too kind for your own good, my sweet Yvonne.”

Hilde had no real interest in the refugees. What he cared about was Yurian Leonhardt’s reaction. Though he pretended otherwise, he was watching Yvonne closely.

Hildebrandt wondered if the attention Yvonne gave to Yurian might be genuine. Judging by the extent of Marquess Rohan’s hatred for Yurian, maybe—if not Yvonne—then Yurian had truly been sincere.

What he really wanted was for Yurian Leonhardt to snap, to charge in and try to avenge his parents by killing Yvonne. Then, disappointed by him, Yvonne would never look at anyone else again.

‘She’ll come back to being the Yvonne who only ever looked at me… forever.’

Even if she regained her memories, even if her mind didn’t completely break, she’d still become that version of herself again.

That was the thought that made Hildebrandt smile.

* * *

Back in her room, Yvonne was exhausted. The bed—still damp from the night before—had been changed with fresh sheets.

“You may sleep in this room tonight, Your Highness.”

“And His Majesty?”

“His Majesty had some business and left the palace temporarily.”

“I see.”

It was already late, so she bathed and went straight to bed. But just before getting in, she spotted a letter on the nightstand.

Left there—clearly—by Evony.

“Don’t fall asleep. Wait for me.”

Yvonne recognized Yurian’s handwriting… and smiled.

TL/N: How can they fking have romance in this situation bruh!? Like are we being fr fr? She’s on the step of her death door