118. A Cruel Proposal

The food brought in filled the wide dining table. Once the preparations were complete, the servants quickly withdrew.

The wheels of the empty trays rolled away.

Soon the door closed, and the spacious hall fell silent. Only the sound of cutlery clinking echoed through the room.

The silence was unbearable. My mouth tasted bitter. I put down my fork and spoke.

“Your Majesty, once you finish eating, I will return home.”

At my words, Deon set his wine glass down. The same crease as before appeared between his brows.

“Home? Do you have a home to return to? The Prince’s residence was sold long ago.”

“There’s Ethan’s estate.”

A cold sneer flashed across Deon’s face.

“Didn’t you say your farewells earlier? They were quite touching. You should have made them more poignant since you won’t see him again.”

“What do you mean, won’t see him? I plan to return to Ethan’s estate after this meal.”

“Who gave you permission? You won’t step a foot outside the Imperial Palace.”

His words were resolute.

“Why do you think I stopped at merely dismissing Ethan? He should consider himself lucky I didn’t punish him more severely for his insolence in front of his lord. I thought I was being quite considerate, for your sake.”

He truly had no intention of letting me leave. The cold detachment with which he sent me to the villa was gone, replaced by a determination to keep me in the palace. A sigh escaped my lips.

“Your Majesty, you can’t keep me here anymore.”

“Why not?”

“You have no justification. What crime are you going to accuse me of to keep me in the palace? Being deceived and becoming your Mistress without knowing your grand plan? Or are you going to tell the ministers that the blood bag you bought dared to run away?”

I spoke through gritted teeth, but Deon showed no sign of backing down.

“A crime? I’ve never accused you of one, so why are you making yourself out to be a criminal?”

“Then how do you plan to keep me here?”

There is only one woman who can stay beside an unmarried emperor. His Mistress. Only one hypothesis came to mind.

But I was tired of playing the role of a Mistress. I didn’t want to go back to that.

Staying in the palace at his whim until he no longer needed me, only to be sent back to the cold villa, was a fate I wanted to avoid.

“I don’t want to be a Mistress. Just make a decision. There’s only one thing left to do with me, isn’t there? To kill me now that I’m no longer useful as a blood bag. That’s the fate of all blood bags, isn’t it?”

I finally voiced those words. I didn’t want to see my life weighed on the scales of false hope.

Deon stared at me, lips tightly pressed, before he finally spoke.

“…Leonie.”

He called me softly, but even his gentle tone didn’t soothe me.

“Do what you will.”

I’d rather die than live like this.

“No. There’s still one condition left.”

His dark voice resonated through the hall.

“Keeping you by my side until you die, managing the blood.”

I looked up. Deon’s lips were curved into a cold smile.

It was an utterly charming smile, but anyone who had served closely with Deon could easily tell it was not genuine.

“So, are you saying you intend to keep me by your side until I die?”

The hall was filled with a chilling atmosphere. The oppressive feeling was overwhelming. Despite the goosebumps, I spoke firmly, refusing to show my nervousness.

“Your Majesty, I don’t understand why you want to keep me bound here. Surely you don’t need me anymore.”

What use was there in displaying a devalued item? I couldn’t fathom why he insisted on confining me within his collection.

“I intended to keep you as a guest of the palace. If you dislike that, and you can only remain by my side as a blood bag, then so be it.”

Deon seemed more irritated than usual. It felt like there was another reason, beyond my escape, that had wounded his pride. His insistence on keeping me close seemed more a matter of his ego.

Wouldn’t it be easier to just eliminate me? Removing all obstacles and vulnerabilities would surely smooth his path.

“I’m sure I said…I don’t want to be your Mistress.”

“Mistress?”

“The only women who can stay in the palace are the Empress or Mistresss.”

Deon ignored my words, as if he hadn’t heard a single thing I said.

Suppressing my anger, I responded, and he casually replied.

“Who said I’d make you a Mistress?”

Then Deon proposed something utterly absurd.

“If you’re worried about rumors, then let’s marry.”

“…To whom?”

“To me.”

I was struck speechless. This time, it was hard to keep my composure.

I couldn’t close my gaping mouth.

“Don’t I have a say in this? I want to live a normal life. A simple, loving household. What if I want to marry another man?”

For a moment, his eyes twitched. But soon, he returned to his calm demeanor as if he hadn’t heard a word.

“If you want to, go ahead. Have children too, if you wish. But do it by my side.”

“Are you saying you’d keep a woman with another man’s child by your side?”

“If that’s what it takes to keep you with me.”

His resolve was strangely unwavering.

In the end, I had no choice but to face the options he laid before me. Just as I did when I chose a card in the cold office in the North.

Marriage or death. Such starkly contrasting choices left me speechless.

Deon calmly proposed marriage in front of the cold food. It was a conversation that didn’t fit the dining setting at all.

“Why are you suddenly proposing marriage?”

“Didn’t you say you needed to get married quickly when we were in the North?”

That had been true. But it was a condition I set to ensure my escape after giving birth to the next generation of blood. It wasn’t because I truly wanted to be his wife.

Reflecting on Deon’s words, I couldn’t help but laugh. His eyebrows rose at my reaction.

“But here’s the problem. Back then, I wanted to be a duchess, not an empress.”

I clenched my fists on the table. I didn’t want to hide my boiling emotions, even in front of the emperor.

“Besides, I heard there’s already a woman lined up to be the next empress. Rumor has it that she’s to be the empress. Were you not planning to make her the empress?”

Deon rubbed his forehead. His dry hands revealed prominent knuckles.

“There were circumstances with that woman… I’ll be sending her away soon.”

Another woman swayed by Deon’s fickle heart. I couldn’t help but smile bitterly.

“To you, women must be trivial. You easily discard Lady Isella and now the next empress as well.”

“They were necessary. But now…”

He looked at me intently.

“Now, I have you, Leonie.”

Our eyes met. Sitting far apart, it was difficult to read the emotions on his face.

Deon’s thoughts remained an enigma to me. Even though he had ascended to the throne, he neither killed me nor let me go.

“Once we get married, divorce will be nearly impossible. Don’t create unnecessary trouble and just let me go. You should marry an empress or queen from a powerful family to solidify your position.”

Despite my reasoning, he seemed resolute in his decision.

“Feel free to be stubborn, but it’s best if you choose one of the two options soon.”

Although he didn’t spell it out, I knew what he meant.

Death as a blood bag or marriage.

Even his proposal was as ruthless as he was. Shouldn’t a proposal be filled with sweet words about wanting to spend a lifetime together or expressing love?

His proposal was more of a threat.

The table filled with my favorite dishes. As far as last meals go, it was quite a decent one.

I wiped my lips with a napkin. I was about to speak some harsh words and wanted my mouth to be clean for it.

“How romantic. Should I give you my answer now?”

I infused my words with sarcasm, mocking him.

“No. I’ll wait for your answer.”

Deon anticipated my response and cut me off. Then he called in the servants so that I couldn’t retract my statement.

Soon, maids entered to clear the table. Their movements were slow, likely out of fear of disturbing the heavy atmosphere. They seemed to worry that any noise might upset the delicate mood.

With people around, I couldn’t raise my voice or question the proposal.

A headache began to throb. Neither the proposer nor the proposee seemed pleased with the situation.

In the end, I asked him a question.

“Deon, why do you need me? Do you still need my blood?”

He was already emperor. What more could he want?

“Do you still desire to wage wars of conquest?”

Deon rose from his seat and approached me. My body flinched involuntarily.

His movements were minimal, but each step was enough to make everyone around feel intimidated.

He gently cupped my cheek and stroked it tenderly.

“No. I just need you.”

His voice was soaked with emotion.

Our eyes met. Up close, I noticed his eyes were rimmed with red, a detail I hadn’t seen from afar. It almost seemed like the redness of the dining utensils was reflected in his clear skin.

What I had thought were piercing eyes were now softened as they looked at me.

His unexpected action left me rigid.

The fork I held dropped with a dull metallic clang.

But neither of us paid attention to the sound. His touch conveyed a deep longing and desire.

He began to speak while caressing my cheek.

“Leonie, I can’t afford to lose you again.”

He stared intently at me.

A chilling silence enveloped the hall. I didn’t respond, but he continued.

“If living with me feels like a prison…”

He paused, taking a breath, then spoke again.

“Then just live in prison with me.”

With that, he withdrew his hand.

“The lady’s hand is injured. Call the royal physician and guide her.”

He directed the nearby servant in a low voice.

“I’ll leave you alone so you can eat in peace.”

With those words, he left the room. His jet-black hair fluttered as he walked away.