CH 110

As if possessed, Estian had approached his chamber’s door the minute he’d heard Cecile’s voice. The sound of her hollering and the teary sobs of the attendants was quickly followed by the large thumps against the solid door. Being sturdily built and locked tight, the door did not budge. It took Estian a moment to realize, to his incredulity, that the thumping sound was Cecile ramming herself against the door. It was a futile endeavor that would only result in pain. The hardness of the wood used in the decoration of the imperial palace, especially the emperor’s quarters, was comparable to stone. Still, Cecile’s assault was unrelenting, and the door vibrated upon each impact.

“Oh no! Quickly! Stop Her Majesty!”

Hearing the hysterical cries of his attendants, Estian opened the door, only to discover a chair flying at him. Instinctively, he caught the chair by its leg, before pausing to take in the scene before him. The first thing that caught his eye was the disheveled appearance of his empress. Cecile’s clothes were a mess. She’d managed to scrape the alabaster skin on her bare shoulders until it was bleeding and red. Scrapes and bruises were also forming in various places.

‘Just what was she doing! Did she collide against a decoration on the door? How much force was she using to launch herself against the door…’

Cecile still had her eyes shut tightly, and was clutching the other end of the chair. If Estian hadn’t intercepted the swing, her wrist would be fractured or even broken by now. Based on her expression, it seemed Cecile was aware of this, and had been bracing herself for the impact. The thought of Cecile injuring herself irritated Estian, and he flung the chair away.

“Your Majesty?” Cecile breathed, raising her eyes to meet his.

He immediately reached out and securely wrapped her waist in his arms. Without a word, he turned and retreated into his room, and made a beeline for his bed. Before he knew it, Estian found himself peering down at Cecile, who was trapped below him and gazing back with surprise.

Estian remained silent as their eyes interlocked. Cecile must’ve been surprised, but she neither screamed nor tried to run. She merely looked at him quizzically. Her eyes, devoid of any fear, snatched Estian’s breath away. Cecile was far too defenseless in his presence; her relaxed demeanor borne from her absolute trust that Estian would never inflict harm towards her. Conflicting emotions were swirling in his heart. The dichotomy of his urge to rip away that trust and to protect it overwhelmed him.

“Your Majesty? Are you alright…”

When Cecile spoke, a pleasant fragrance tickled his nose. It was a familiar smell—the sweet aroma of flowers mixed with Cecile’s own unique scent, which he had indulged in to his heart’s content over the last few months. Following his instincts, Estian buried his face into her nape and inhaled deeply. He filled his lungs with her, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. Much more. Desire was boiling within him, and a simple embrace was not enough. It would be easy to take her right then and there. He could appease his urges over and over, and when the climax of his passion overflowed and released within her…

Estian tensed as he realized the direction of his train of thought. If he succumbed to his urges, it would lead to a future he least desired. He steadied his breath as he grasped on to what rationality remained. As long as he remained vigilant against the voice… Only then did Estian realize that it was quiet. The incessant echoes in his head had completely disappeared. He was so taken aback that he couldn’t help but marvel out loud.

“What? What sound…? Oh! Are you referring to that strange sound?” Cecile replied.

“Cecile… How are you able to hear Eugendiph’s voice?” Estian struggled to temper the menace in his tone, as he raised himself up and scrutinized her with curiosity. “Who in the world are you?” 

He considered what words Cecile might utter next, as he watched her struggle to form a response. Who was this woman? What in the world was she? What kind of being was she to be able to hear and dispel the voice of his accursed blood? The green eyes of this mysterious woman gazing up at him blinked slowly. It appeared she’d found her answer, and Cecile began to open her mouth.

“I am Your Majesty’s wife,” she responded calmly, “although that may soon change.”

Her answer was exceedingly matter-of-fact and utterly unexpected. Estian was at a loss for words, but the second-half of her remark was what truly upset him. Divorce? An imperial divorce would not be easy to obtain. Cecile was not capable of ending their marriage, and Estian had no intention of releasing her.

“What? On whose authority?” Estian barked, failing to suppress the sneer that crept onto his face.

“Why… why not?” Cecile shot back defiantly. Estian’s sneer held a different meaning to her, and her eyes sharpened in response. “If you plan to divorce, it’s best handled quickly. We’re not with child, which makes it even less of a problem and—”

“Child, you say,” Estian interrupted, cupping her face.

Obtaining the blood of Eugendiph was one of his enemies’s objectives. If it was impossible to extract from him, they would target his offspring. Like him, his heirs would inherit the accursed fate of being born as a monster. This was the outcome he desperately wished to avoid.