Episode 134

“Not leaving the palace?”

“I left. Then I came back.”

Yvonne spoke groggily to Yurian, who had climbed into her bed without hesitation. Her eyes were still heavy from sleep, not fully open. The sheets were briefly pulled back then settled again, but his warm presence kept her from being too bothered.

“You climbed over the wall?”

“Yes.”

“There are a lot of spells and wards on the palace.”

“There’s a spot you can sneak through.”

“You mean the hole in the garden wall of the Emperor’s wing?”

Yurian was surprised she knew about it. But then again, it made sense—she lived in the palace, after all. Seeing her now taking part in government alongside the Emperor, Yurian realized Yvonne was far more calculating than he’d assumed.

“Tired?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I asked you not to fall asleep and to wait for me.”

“That’s not exactly something I can control.”

Yvonne let herself relax, her limbs going slack. Yurian wanted to talk to her more. He was still thinking of what to say.

Maybe it was because he was certain now that his memories had been tampered with, but he wanted to be seen in a better light by her. He wanted her to think well of him—to see him as a better man. She probably had no idea just how deeply he wanted to understand her.

“Yvonne?”

“Mmm…”

But all that worrying felt pointless when he saw her dozing off again. She let out a soft, tired sound, and Yurian felt… blissful. He instinctively knew—they felt the same.

She was always tense. That was what he’d learned, carefully observing her with all his senses. And yet, here she was, completely at ease around him.

“I came here to do something bad, Yvonne.”

“Mm… go ahead.”

He meant it to sound threatening, but she responded with a lazy indifference, which only made him let out a quiet, amused breath.

“Tough day?”

“It was… but it got better when you showed up.”

Whatever intent he’d had to tease her melted instantly. And then—she turned to look at him.

“You want me to undress, or will you?”

Her bold words caught him off guard. He stiffened and called out seriously:

“Your Highness.”

“Yes?”

And then asked:

“Am I your lover… or just your bedroom slave?”

“What?”
Pfft… hahaha!

Yvonne burst out laughing, even as she looked over at his confused, troubled expression.

“I want to know everything about you, Yvonne.”

“And right now, that part of you stabbing into my thigh wants to have a very physical conversation.”

“Let’s not worry about that. It just… comes to life when it’s near you.”

“Do you think I’m keeping you around just for sex?”

“Yes.”

Yvonne stared at him in disbelief. Her eyes dropped again to take in his face—dark hair that suited the night and red eyes, glistening with heat.

“If you were just a bedroom slave, you’d have ruined me by now. Made me so depraved I’d be dethroned.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means… that thought makes no sense. Why would you even think that?”

Yvonne relaxed again when he looked away and then back at her. She smiled, and that seemed to give him permission to speak.

“I guess I was afraid your feelings for me wouldn’t measure up to mine.”

“Does the size matter?”

“Now that I think about it… maybe not. Whether I like you more or less doesn’t change anything.”

“You’ve done a lot of thinking in a short time. And didn’t we only officially meet yesterday?”

Yvonne already knew—Yurian’s memory of her only started from the day before.

“Ah, that’s true. But… it feels like we’ve known each other for much longer.”

Yurian wished she could love him more—but he knew that was unrealistic. He’d never felt this strongly about anyone in his life. This kind of longing and attachment was foreign to him.

And yet, he knew he had no right to expect her to feel the same way. If she didn’t love him as much, that was okay. The feeling he had now… was both unfamiliar and oddly familiar. Likely because his memories had been tampered with.

Still, he was grateful—to her, for letting him feel this way.

Even if her changing expressions sent his heart into chaos several times a day… as long as she continued to trust him and show him affection in her quiet ways, that was enough.

“Yurian.”

“Yes?”

Yvonne pulled him close and cradled his head to her chest. He let out a small sigh of relief at the sound of her heartbeat.

“I really do like you. I want to stay with you. For a long time.”

“I… I do too.”

Yurian’s voice cracked a little from the way his body trembled. Though he still remembered her as the one who killed his parents… another part of him refused to believe it.

That was because his second awakening was drawing near—and the psychic abilities affecting him were beginning to loosen their grip.

“Let’s find a way… to be together.”

“Yeah.”

That night, they didn’t sleep together.

But for Yurian, it was more satisfying than the night before—as if physical pleasure was only a side note to something much deeper.

* * *

[I’m planning to leave for the Holy Nation to undergo my second awakening.

I trust you’ll be well while I’m gone, but it’s a shame to think you might not think of me at all.

If I come back in the morning, start changing clothes, and see one of your hairs stuck on my shoulder—I’ll probably smile. Would that make you smile too?

It’s a problem. No matter where I go, I keep seeing you.

So, please think of me at least once until I return.

—Your Yurian.]

Yvonne smiled when she read the letter Yurian had left behind. She tucked it away in her undergarment drawer to keep it hidden.

“Your Highness.”

“Mm.”

“His Grace truly cares for you.”

“Yeah, I know. Thank you, Evony.”

Yvonne now believed Evony wasn’t Hildebrandt’s person—but Yurian’s. After all, it was Evony who delivered the letter.

Evony was carefully adjusting Yvonne’s dress alone. It was typically a task for several maids, but Yvonne preferred when Evony tended to her personally like this. It was comforting.

“I’ll do your hair now.”

“Okay.”

Lately, Evony had been styling her hair more often, too. And for some reason, Yvonne found that familiar… and deeply missed. She accepted the care with quiet joy.

Once her hair was done, it was time to head to the imperial palace for lunch.

“You’re late.”

“I was getting my hair done.”

“I see.”

When Yvonne saw that Francis had come to fetch her, she realized Hildebrandt’s patience was likely running out.

“Why do you still wear that blindfold?”

“And why do you still wear those earrings, Your Highness?”

Yvonne understood what he meant and replied calmly.

“So, you can’t take yours off either, huh?”

“No, I can’t.”

Francis tensed slightly as Yvonne stepped closer. He kept adjusting the blindfold, nervous it might come loose. Hildebrandt’s hypnosis had embedded a deadly command in him—if he saw Yvonne’s face, he would kill her.

But if the Emperor truly wanted her dead, he would never have allowed someone like Francis, blindfolded and unstable, to remain near her.

“Take good care of His Majesty, will you?”

“That’s your job, isn’t it, Sir Francis?”

“It’s yours too, Your Highness.”

“…Is that so.”

Yvonne’s response was flat. Francis couldn’t shake how off she felt today—her faint scent, her subdued voice… She seemed like someone trying to appear fine when she wasn’t. It reminded him of himself, and maybe that was why she was on his mind more than usual.

“I’m glad you’ve returned, Your Highness.”

“…Is that so.”

Yvonne gave him a faint smile, looked at him once, and continued walking.

“Why do you serve my father so loyally, Sir Francis?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“Not really. I just find it strange. I’ve never seen someone follow so blindly.”

Her words made Francis fall into thought as they walked toward the imperial palace.

“I was raised as a knight from birth. You know my family, I assume.”

“Yes. The Patella family—renowned for generations of warriors. Personal guards to the Emperor, right?”

“I was trained from a young age to believe that loyalty was the highest virtue.”

“And what do you think about that, Sir Francis?”

Francis paused. No one had ever asked for his thoughts before.

“I… I haven’t thought about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not meant to think. I follow orders.”

“Then start thinking. That’s an order.”

“…Understood.”

He opened his mouth, about to say something—then caught that sweet scent again and held his breath. He felt he might say something treasonous without meaning to.

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

Hildebrandt was different today. Normally, he would have greeted Yvonne in casual clothes. But this time, he was dressed neatly—though the front of his shirt was still open, showing his chest.

“Hilde?”

“You’re late.”

“Sorry… Did you wait long?”

“Waiting is always difficult.”

He pulled out her chair for her. The gesture startled Yvonne, and she hesitated to sit down.

“Go on. Sit.”

“Ah… Yes.”

As Hildebrandt’s eyes curved into a crescent-moon smile, Yvonne’s unease returned. She couldn’t help but think she’d done something wrong.

Because otherwise… there was no reason for him to be like this.