116: How Could I Not Know You? (2)

They barged into the parlor and began rummaging through everything. In an instant, the once serene room turned into a chaotic mess.

Objects toppled over, and a large lamp fell in front of the warehouse, shattering into pieces. The harsh noise made me flinch, but I held onto the doorknob tightly, refusing to let go.

The tranquil parlor was now in complete disarray.

The imperial knights were tearing the place apart as if Edan was already a condemned criminal. Through the ajar door, I could see the knights’ busy movements and Edan standing idly by.

Despite the sudden chaos, Edan showed no signs of panic or anger. He accepted the grim situation with calm composure.

“Haven’t you checked everything by now? You must have resolved your doubts.”

As the knights’ movements slowed, Edan finally spoke.

Just as Edan had said, they hadn’t touched the armory. They seemed unaware that such a deep space existed, let alone that someone could be hiding inside.

Unable to find anything, the knights retreated.

“According to the strict imperial law, everything in the empire belongs to His Majesty. But barging into my home without notice? Shouldn’t you have summoned me to court if something from the royal family had gone missing?”

Edan’s eloquent words grated on Deon’s nerves.

The knights, apparently given new orders, exited the room. But Deon stayed behind, glancing around the parlor.

“Your Majesty, it seems this conversation will take some time. Let’s move to a different place since this room is in disarray.”

But there was no reply. Deon meticulously examined every picture frame and lamp on the walls.

After lingering for a while near the fallen lamp and desk, Deon’s footsteps suddenly halted.

His hand, which had been idly touching objects, also stopped. I saw him putting something back where he had picked it up.

It looked like he was about to give up. In the ensuing silence, I could even hear my own swallowing.

Finally, they’re leaving. Once we move to the annex, I’ll look for a chance to jump out the window.

Relief washed over me, making my legs feel weak. I cautiously leaned my head against the crack where light was seeping in.

But at that moment, a gleaming blade thrust through the gap above my head.

It was no decorative sword but a real blade, crafted for cutting.

The sharp edge grazed my hair, embedding itself in the opposite wall with a clean, precise motion.

If it had veered slightly, it would have certainly sliced through me. Realizing this, my hair stood on end, and a chill ran down my spine.

Unintentionally, I let go of the hinge I was holding. The door opened, causing me to lose my balance and topple forward.

The old door couldn’t support my weight and shattered miserably. I rolled across the floor along with the door.

My vision spun. I pushed myself up from the broken wooden planks. Cautiously lifting my head, I saw Deon glaring at me with his piercing eyes, sword in hand.

He still had a tall and handsome face. But somehow, he looked thinner and more gaunt than before. His hand gripping the sword was unusually bony.

He stared at me without saying a word.

The silence stretched on. I wished someone would break it, but Deon just stared at me, and Edan gripped his scabbard tightly, looking straight ahead.

Though no shouts were exchanged and no swords swung, the prolonged silence felt suffocating. I could hardly breathe.

I cleared my throat and finally spoke up.

“It’s been a while, Your Highness.”

Deon’s frowning brows furrowed even deeper. His pale face was cast in a dark shadow.

Right. He’s the Emperor now. It was sudden news to me, but I needed to address him properly, even if it didn’t come naturally yet.

I rolled my eyes and spoke again.

“Ah… should I address you as Your Majesty now?”

I forced a smile, a nervous laugh escaping my lips as death loomed ever closer. Feigning courage in the face of imminent danger felt oddly liberating. I figured that a smiling face might make him hesitate to kill me, or at the very least, if he did, he might make it quick. More than anything, I wanted to fool myself into believing I wasn’t afraid, even though my fingers had been trembling for some time.

I wore my most sincere smile, but it seemed ineffective. Deon’s expression grew even harsher.

With a face full of menace, Deon finally leaned down. Seeing his massive frame approach, I shuddered involuntarily.

“Leonie.”

He knelt on one knee and met my gaze, his voice gentle, though he still clutched his sword. My stomach churned.

Deon called my name and lightly grasped my chin.

“How long did you think you could run? Did you really think I wouldn’t recognize you?”

Though he merely held my cheek, I felt as if my throat was constricting.

The oppressive atmosphere in the parlor consumed me. Though I wanted to respond, I could only hold my breath and wait for his next words.

“I told you clearly from the North. Running is futile, and I will never let you go.”

Deon looked straight into my eyes. I couldn’t look away. I forgot to breathe, staring blankly at him.

“And back then… you swore you would live longer than me, no matter what.”

His blue eyes wavered, different from any expression I had seen before. His deep-set eyes shone with an unfamiliar light.

“I…”

I swallowed hard, quickly trying to think of a response.

“Your Highness, no, Your Majesty, I don’t know what you think, but I…”

I thought it better to explain that I had been swept away and only recently returned to the capital. Just as I began to speak, Deon interrupted with a different accusation.

“So, you chose Edan in the end? You planned to leave together?”

“…What?”

“Did you dare to betray me?”

Deon ground his teeth, a clear crease forming on his forehead.

“I won’t offer unnecessary excuses. It’s all my fault.”

Edan’s voice made me realize Deon’s accusations were aimed at him, not me.

Edan bowed his head, his posture impeccable, though it seemed to infuriate Deon even more.

“I hid the lady and persuaded her to flee.”

As if this confession ignited something, Deon drew his sword again. His jet-black hair whipped around.

The blade arched toward Edan’s neck, steadfast as a tree.

How did it come to this? I replayed Edan and Deon’s conversation.

But no matter how much I thought about it, Deon’s words were strange. Fleeing together? It sounded like something one would say to a couple caught eloping.

Despite the confusing accusations, Edan didn’t bother to correct Deon. He didn’t deny the misunderstanding or even offer a plea to save his life. He simply accepted the blade aimed at him.

I seemed to be the only one who found this situation odd.

Could it be? Did his promise to protect me at all costs mean this?

“Deon.”

Even at my shout, Deon pressed the blade closer to Edan.

The gleaming blade seemed determined not to return to its sheath without tasting blood.

It was sharp, and Deon’s intent to kill was unmistakable.

I spread my arms and stood in front of Edan. Blue flames flickered in Deon’s eyes, burning with rage.

Deon’s furious expression was terrifying, but more terrifying was the thought that Edan, who had protected me, might die here.

“Step aside. Are you defending another man in front of me?”

The sharp blade glinted ominously, ready to slice through someone at any moment. It thirsted for blood it hadn’t tasted in a long time.

As he redirected the sword towards Edan, I reached out and grabbed the blade.

“Ow.”

It was a split-second decision. I let out a small cry of pain. My vision blurred for a moment before becoming clear again.

My hand stung. A shallow cut etched across my palm, and beads of blood began to well up.

Deon’s eyes widened. I saw a tremor under his eyes as he stared at the blood trickling down my wrist. He recoiled slightly.

Was he not intending to strike? Why was he so surprised?

Despite his stubbornness, Deon finally withdrew the sword. He tilted the blade away to avoid further grazing my hand, then pulled it back.

Deon lowered his arm, still clutching the sword. I let out a small sigh of relief. As the tension eased, the delayed pain crept up my wrist. Blood now pooled at my elbow and dripped steadily to the floor.

I looked down at the drops of blood gathering on the ground, then lifted my head. Deon was silently staring at my arm.

Was he tempted by the sight of my blood after so long? But he looked paler than I did.

His gaze remained fixed on me, almost as if he were worried.

I couldn’t comprehend his startled expression.

The veins in his hand, still gripping the sword, stood out. He seemed ready to strike me down, but then his fierce gaze softened, and he dropped the sword.

Clang.

The sound of the sword hitting the floor echoed briefly.

“Leonie.”

His parched lips parted.

“What are you doing?”

Deon asked quietly, waiting calmly for an explanation for my sudden action. It seemed he didn’t want to believe I did it to protect Edan.

But I couldn’t cause any more harm. I decided to tell the truth.

I parted my tightly sealed lips and spoke.

“Deon, this isn’t Edan’s fault.”

I mustered the courage to say what I had been holding back.

“I ran away. On my own, because I didn’t want to live as a blood bag.”