IDED | Chapter 133

Episode 133

Hot breath tickled Serena’s skin. The vibrations of the moving carriage resonated loudly along with her heartbeat.

Serena parted her lips softly. She knew that even the slightest movement would bring them into contact, yet she showed no hesitation.

“So, did you dislike it?”

The lips that brushed against hers and then withdrew felt hot. Azaid, too, didn’t step back. Instead, he curled the corner of his lips slightly.

“How could I?”

“Then?”

“At first, I just found it fascinating. You tried to threaten me, speaking so fearlessly of the underground god.”

It wasn’t that she wasn’t afraid. In truth, she had been so scared that she pretended to be strong.

Back then, standing before Azaid was no different from walking to her death. If she didn’t save the Emperor, she was doomed as well, so she had struggled desperately to keep him alive.

But thanks to that, this life hadn’t ended in vain like the last one. She had also uncovered truths she hadn’t known before. Serena remained silent, listening to him, as if urging him to continue.

Azaid chuckled as he recalled the first time he met Serena. He could still vividly picture the way she had boldly told him to kill her.

The sight of her, unafraid of death, had been strikingly dignified.

Even now, he found that moment impressive. Azaid gently swept back Serena’s hair and spoke.

“At first, I thought I’d keep you by my side for a short while, impressed by your courage. But before I knew it, nearly a year had passed, and I found myself reluctant to let you go.”

“I have a charm that’s hard to escape. I only leave an entrance, with no exit.”

“Just don’t let any other scoundrels through that entrance. You’re already so beautiful that it’s distracting enough.”

Azaid frowned, as if afraid someone might steal Serena away. His excessive protectiveness nearly made her burst into laughter.

“Look who’s talking.”

“What?”

“Your Majesty, don’t go around enchanting just any woman. I almost want to make you hide your face.”

Serena grabbed Azaid’s cheeks and playfully shook them side to side. With each movement, his golden hair shimmered like strands of pure gold.

And his blue eyes—how breathtakingly beautiful they were. Serena stared into them, entranced. The slight upward tilt at the corners made them resemble those of a cunning fox.

“See? You’re already enchanting me.”

“But I only do that for you.”

Azaid lowered his gaze and whispered softly. The playful mood suddenly dissipated, replaced by a heavier atmosphere.

The settling silence made her anxious. Azaid spoke.

“I swear. You are the first and the last person who will ever lay hands on me.”

“…….”

“So, Serena.”

Azaid stopped speaking and gently clasped her hand. Then, pressing his lips firmly against her palm, he locked eyes with her.

His gaze was unbearably sweet and scorching. Being under that gaze made her throat dry, and she swallowed hard. Then, Ajade whispered,

“You can touch me all you want.”

“…….”

— ‘Please, let me touch His Majesty.’

At that moment, Serena recalled the words she had once spoken to Azaid long ago.

It was the second time she had failed to even lay hands on a patient before they died, and at the time, she had been beyond desperate.

Thinking that death was inevitable no matter what, she had made that bold request. Now, she finally understood why Azaid had been so flustered back then.

‘So this is how it feels.’

Serena felt her face grow hot at Azaid’s words.

So this is what raw, unfiltered emotion felt like.

She suddenly felt like scolding her past self. At the same time, she understood why Azaid had said such a thing. So she decided to play along with his game.

“……Is this for medical purposes?”

“No.”

Azaid answered firmly and pulled her hand down. Serena blinked slowly, as if she had expected that response.

The corners of her lips curled up playfully, making them look irresistibly kissable.

Her golden eyes, sinking deep with emotion, blazed like the desert sun, igniting Azaid’s heart.

The pounding in his chest was so strong that he bit his lower lip lightly.

When they first met, even the idea of physical contact for treatment had repulsed him.

Yet now, he longed for her touch.

Azaid found the change in himself amusing and let out a small chuckle. But he didn’t try to suppress the storm of emotions within him. After all, burning intensity was something he was well accustomed to.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I just like you, Serena.”

When Azaid confessed with all his heart, Serena’s eyes softened.

She held his cheeks in her hands, and naturally, Azaid’s head tilted toward her.

Chuu.

The soft sound of her small, delicate lips pressing against his resonated more powerfully in Azaid’s heart than the melody of a grand orchestra.

Unable to endure the ticklish sensation, Azaid moved closer to her. His hands tightened around her waist, and the veins along his arms stood out prominently.

Their lips entwined deeply, exchanging warm breaths. The rocking of the carriage did nothing to separate them.

If anything, it only brought them closer.

As the founding festival approached, now only a week away, Azaid and his group’s plans were gaining momentum.

Nocturne stared at his own reflection awkwardly and muttered,

“I thought it would feel uncomfortable, but it’s actually quite natural.”

His usual sharp aura had vanished, replaced by a dazed-looking face in the mirror. Even so, it was still a handsome face—undoubtedly Lucy’s masterpiece.

Lucy, pleased with her work, grinned and said,

“I made sure to request a look completely different from your usual image, so I put in some extra effort. What do you think?”

“I doubt anyone would recognize me. How do I remove this?”

“Just contact me. Since you let me take a mold of your face, I’ll come to you free of charge.”

Lucy responded cheerfully, and Nocturne gazed at her with a peculiar look.

‘Who would’ve thought she had such an unusual hobby?’

Nocturne had known Lucy for quite some time, but he hadn’t been deeply familiar with her private life.

Lucy had only started actively assisting Azaid this year. Since these tasks were carried out without Nocturne’s involvement, he had only recently discovered this secret hobby of Lucy Carter’s.

Nocturne recalled the time when Serena and Azaid had visited the villa.

‘You’re going to take a mold of my face?’

‘Yes. I can’t stay trapped here forever.’

‘It’ll only take a minute, so don’t worry.’

He had been utterly shocked when they suddenly told him to offer up his face. Being dragged along by the two of them, who acted as if this was completely normal, he had momentarily wondered if he had made a terrible mistake when they pressed his face into the plaster mold.

For a moment, he even suspected they were taking out their frustrations on him under some flimsy excuse.

But a few days later, when someone who looked exactly like him arrived at the villa, Nocturne had nearly fainted.

‘I thought I was seeing my doppelgänger.’

They had even chosen someone with a similar build, allowing Nocturne to slip out of the villa undetected.

The escape had only been possible thanks to Ophelia’s help. Fortunately, the Duke had been unable to distinguish between the real Nocturne and the fake one.

Not that it was surprising—after all, the real Nocturne was now walking around with a completely different face.

Thanks to this, Nocturne was now a free man, living under the guise of Gordon’s trading company while making thorough preparations to strike against the Duke.

One of those preparations involved luring in James. It was a plan born from Ophelia’s sharp tongue and Nocturne’s cunning, making it all the more likely that James would take the bait without realizing it was a trap.

Nocturne flicked open and shut his pocket watch, his voice carrying an ominous tone.

“It’s about time James bit the bait.”

James was a man drowning in inferiority, despicable by nature, and cruel to the weak.

After the last incident, he had begun to suspect the Duke, and it was clear that his baseless delusions would eventually push him to make a drastic move.

He had already lost control of his temper and acted recklessly several times before, and this time would be no different.

Now that Ophelia had even kindly explained Nocturne’s whereabouts to him, there was no doubt where James’ fury would be directed.

He would surely storm into the villa, determined to kill Nocturne. And that precise moment—when his anger erupted—would be the perfect time to strike.

Nocturne clicked his watch a few more times and murmured to himself.

“Stop dragging it out and come already.”

Meanwhile, James was drowning himself in alcohol at a nightclub late into the night. Ever since he had learned that the Duke was supporting Nocturne, he had done nothing but drink.

To make matters worse, Ophelia would occasionally drop by just to rile him up even more, causing his anger to boil over.

He had never been particularly competent at his job, but after that revelation, he had all but abandoned the tasks assigned to him.

He had deliberately dumped all his work onto Ophelia, yet she hadn’t said a word. She had probably given up on him.

With the Duke now considering Nocturne as his successor, there was no reason for James to bother doing his job properly.

Unbeknownst to him, Ophelia had already reported all of his laziness to the Duke. Instead, he sat there, drowning in self-pity.

James gulped down a newly released vodka, trying to quench the burning rage in his chest.

‘What’s the point of sucking up to the Duke? In the end, all the credit will go to Nocturne anyway! Damn it!’