61. Eat Me

Deon looked at me.

A drop of liquid, whether it was sweat or rain, ran down his cheek.

He hadn’t drunk my blood since Isella had visited.

He must have been starving. He wasn’t someone who fed just to fill his stomach, but at least his sword was hungry.

I took a step closer to him. Fortunately, no one was watching us.

I naturally, almost as if talking to myself, quietly murmured.

“You need me, right? Isn’t that so?”

“No.”

He answered firmly, though there was no strength in his voice.

“Your Highness, eat me.”

I looked around. There was nowhere to hide from the crystal sphere’s gaze and the people.

The trees were dense but too thin for two people to stand and drink blood. It was hard to avoid the surveillance.

Had he not heard me because I spoke too quietly? He didn’t respond.

When I lightly touched his collar, he replied.

“Stop saying nonsense. Do you want them to find out that you’re my blood bag?”

As expected, he kept silent even after hearing my words.

“Are you planning to die here, then?”

“No.”

“Then what will you do?”

“I’ll finish it. With my own strength.”

Fighting with his original strength… It wasn’t a good option.

Second Prince had prepared a plan, considering that Deon would survive. If he came back alive, it would be beneficial for Second Prince.

It would also be good for him if Deon ended up with permanent damage from fighting the monsters recklessly.

Or if rumors spread that the hero who had returned from countless wars could no longer fight against monsters.

That crystal sphere was proof for broadcasting. To leave a record.

In every fight, there are casualties, and sometimes nobles cannot be protected. The disgrace from that would be a bonus.

People might say he couldn’t save them even though he could have. Maybe the families of the dead nobles would turn their anger towards Deon rather than the poorly managed royal family.

He picked up his sword. It gleamed, freshly polished. It seemed he hadn’t killed any other monsters in the hunting ground yet.

His expression was as resolute as ever. As if he was willing to offer an arm.

I bit my nails.

What should I do? How can I get through this situation naturally?

Even though it was just one shot, the bullet had already left my hand. Now, not only that but I didn’t have any tools left to protect myself.

I tightly gripped the hem of my dress.

At that moment, deep inside my pocket, I felt a dagger. It was a beautiful dagger with a cover and embossed floral patterns on the outside. Suren had given it to me to trim the branches and leaves in the greenhouse.

I was glad I hadn’t changed dresses. Because I pruned yesterday, the dagger was still there.

Although it was made for gardening, with a dull and short blade, it was enough. I grasped the dagger.

“From now on, I’m going to pretend I’m naturally in love with the prince, and you just have to follow me.”

“What?”

He turned around, still holding his sword up towards the monster.

He looked surprised, as if he’d heard something unexpected.

Perfect. The curtain was about to rise on our little play.

I raised my voice slightly, loud enough for all the gathered nobles and knights to hear.

“Didn’t you say you love me?”

I met Deon’s gaze, but I could clearly feel the people’s attention shifting towards us due to my sudden outburst.

“What are you trying to do now? Stay still.”

He gritted his teeth.

Then he tried to snatch the dagger from my hand.

“Don’t come any closer.”

I bit the cap off with my teeth and pointed the dagger at him. My hand holding the knife was sweaty.

Despite the dagger, he approached me without hesitation. His large strides quickly closed the distance between us.

Gritting my teeth, I swung the dagger towards him.

The blade grazed his hand. Soon, a shallow cut appeared on his pale hand.

I hadn’t meant to hurt him. He could have avoided it but didn’t.

Unexpectedly, a small, shallow wound appeared. I almost dropped the knife but bit my lip to hide my surprise. Now that the play had begun, I had to see it through. Stopping now would be meaningless.

He paused, his face instantly hardening. His already pale face turned even whiter.

Calmly, I widened the distance between us, holding the dagger stiffly. I tried hard to maintain a composed expression.

“You said you love all of me. Have you changed your mind?”

My voice trembled slightly. It was fine. Even a mistress wanting to prove her love would lose her composure in such a situation.

“…Leonie, stop this nonsense.”

Perfect. Everyone’s attention was on us. His words fit well into the play.

“Don’t come any closer!”

I firmly pushed him back, shaking my head.

“Stop it.”

“Stop it?”

I let out a small laugh.

“Then prove it.”

I turned the dagger on my arm and made a deep cut.

The pruning knife, meant for trimming leaves, served well as a weapon in this situation. Drops of blood started to fall.

On the white snow, the blood looked like a lot, making the wound seem worse. But in the grass, the blood quickly disappeared without a trace. In the forest, it looked like crushed red flowers. The blood soaked into the ground swiftly.

It stung.

Compared to the pain, the play wasn’t dramatic enough. Maybe I should have cut deeper.

“Leonie!”

But he looked genuinely shocked, his eyes wide. A good sign.

If he followed along until the end. If he went along with the act, it would be perfect.

He urgently grabbed my arm, unwrapping the handkerchief from his sword.

I stopped him from tying it around the wound.

“Drink it.”

I lifted my arm close to his mouth. The scent of blood wafted up.

He looked down at me, his blue eyes wavering.

“You need to stop the bleeding. With your mouth.”

I leaned towards his face and whispered softly.

“No one will think it strange if you drink the blood now, Your Highness. They’ll just think it’s the whim of a fickle mistress wanting attention even in this situation. You just need to play along.”

He grabbed my wrist. His grip was stronger than usual, causing the blood to pool and flow more.

“Enough. I can handle this without you.”

“You can deal with all those monsters?”

“…”

He didn’t answer.

I held onto him as he tried to move away. I wrapped my arm around his wounded hand, pressing my cut against his injury.

I tried to make it look natural, but the height difference made it awkward. It was just a clumsy attempt at mixing our blood.

Is this not enough? Does he need to drink directly from my neck?

Even though it had been months since he last drank my blood, I still didn’t fully understand how it worked.

I could feel him trying to pull his arm away, but I held on tightly, refusing to let go. Before I knew it, I was leaning against him.

“Don’t move. The wound will get worse.”

His voice was low and calm.

“If you drink quickly, this will be over. No more fuss.”

Our eyes met. Deep wrinkles furrowed his brow.

“What you did today…”

He took a deep breath.

“We’ll finish this conversation later.”

He said that and then lowered his head, drinking the blood that flowed.

Even as he drank, his eyes remained fixed on me. His deep, dark eyes revealed no emotion.

There were dark circles under his eyes. His long lashes cast shadows over his lowered eyelids.

While he drank, I took deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Gradually, my breathing steadied, and I felt air fill my lungs.

“Too many things happen around you.”

I murmured quietly, so he couldn’t hear.

In the end, he would achieve victory. But the reward wouldn’t be mine.

Eventually, he lifted his head. Blood glistened on his lips, and veins stood out on his neck.

He looked like the most dangerous creature in this forest. His eyes darkened, a mix of blue and black.

Though his gaze grew sharper, he seemed more alert than tired. His eyes sparkled with intensity.

The nobles were stunned by the sudden scene, holding their breath. The only sound was the growling of the monster, making the surroundings eerily quiet.

He untied the handkerchief from his sword and wrapped it tightly around my arm.

“Another wound.”

His touch was rough as he bound my injury with the handkerchief.

Though he inflicted wounds on me daily, he was always sensitive about my injuries.

I glanced at the handkerchief he had tied around my arm.

A deer pattern. There was embroidery on the edge of the cloth. I had thought I was mistaken when I saw it in passing. But up close, it was clear.

It was the crest of the Count’s family. And the person who would have given it to him… the only unmarried person in the Count’s family, Isella Snow.

I fiddled with the edge of the cloth. The white fabric was soft.

Every year, at the hunting festival, a hunting lady is chosen. To wish for the safe return of the participants, their lover offers a token.

Deon knew well what it meant to tie a handkerchief with the family crest to his sword.

Though the tradition had faded in significance, he understood the meaning of bracelets or acts inscribed with the family crest.

Even in this urgent situation, I couldn’t help but be bothered by Deon and Isella’s relationship. It was absurd, even to me.