Emperor's Alternate - Chapter 33
I had never been in such close contact with a person of the opposite s*x in my life, and yet I oddly didn’t find it unpleasant. It felt strange and e****c. From Lecan’s faint breath to his lips, muscles, even the pulsating and contracting of his veins – it was all so vivid. There was a tingling sensation behind my ears, and my fingertips trembled.
It was bewildering why each touch felt so distinct, even though the touch had been so innocent. Does alcohol naturally heighten one’s senses? With a wall behind and Lecan in front, my breathing quickened. My judgment dulled while my senses sharpened.
“You were trying to save me back then.”
Even amidst the crowded ballroom, the noise seemed endless from a distance. Yet, whether the alcohol had clouded my brain, only Lecan in front of me was crystal clear. Through my blurred vision, I managed to muster up the strength to shove him, but he didn’t budge. As if struggling against a stone wall, my hand hurt the more I pushed him away.
He must be referring to the time when Teiles I was dying.
“…Make no mistake. I am your enemy, and I will take any opportunity to kill you.”
“How informal.”
The malice conveyed in my response seemed to have no effect on Lecan. He only responded to my informal address without honorifics. Of course, considering Lecan was seven years my senior, it’s not surprising that he was surprised to be addressed this way. How simple I must have been to this man who had been through the wringer and had become the center of attention and power.
Lecan wouldn’t know how complex my feelings were every time I looked at him. He was the one relentlessly seeking me out, aiming to control me from the start, the figure existing in my very first memory, declaring loudly that he would become an impressive individual in the future.
I wonder if the reason I was being more direct than usual was because I was drunk.
“Interesting,” he said. “Quite amusing”
It left a sour taste in my mouth. To me, Lecan wasn’t just an interest. Even if he wouldn’t treat me as his equal, I wanted to at least be respected as a person.
“Don’t treat me purely as a source of amusement.”
“Who said I find you amusing?”
Lecan chuckled. I felt like I had heard this laugh before, when I was very young.
“…I’m serious.”
I shoved him with all my might, and this time he stepped back. It was still too close for comfort, but I realized how close we’d been when his breathing visibly eased. But what I’d overlooked was my own drunkenness.
My legs gave out and I staggered as the strength that supported me was gone. Lecan grabbed my arm and steadied me.
“How are you going to kill me, when you’re so weak right? Wouldn’t it be so much easier for me to kill you?”
“…”
“Well, I suppose it would work if you think looks could kill. Are you planning on using your beauty at least?”
“…Let go.”
“You were the one who grabbed my collar first. Don’t you remember?”
I felt dizzy, and it wouldn’t be strange if I threw up right now.
“It doesn’t matter what means I use.”
“Then why bother giving a friendly warning when you can just do it quietly when I’m defenseless?”
From now on, I swore never to confront Lecan while under the influence of alcohol. Who knows, the Empress might force me to binge drink again. I vowed to develop a magical potion that would keep me sober, even if it meant staying awake for days on end.
I refused to admit my existence as an unchanging shadow before the sun that was Lecan who shone brightly even after the dozen years we’ve been apart. I didn’t want to be reminded of the naive dreams I harbored before the fall of House Rotea.
Even though it was a drunken conversation, I wouldn’t regret this conversation after I sobered up. I have never spoken words beyond my intent, even when my rationality was clouded.
Lecan, gazing at me, asked, “What must I do to become your lord?”
After fleeing through the sewers with Lucian as our ducal estate burned, I thought long and hard. Should I seek refuge with Lecan, my betrothed, or turn to the Emperor’s mistress whose bastard child wasn’t even recognized as the Sixth Prince? I chose the latter, but it was not without a chance of reverting to the former.
If only Lecan had insisted that the accusations of treason against the House of Rotea were unjust. If only he had made any attempt to find the missing young lady or Lucian. Before the Imprint of the Heart, I would have found a way to get to him somehow. I would have become his. No matter what he desired, I would have given him what he wanted.
“…It’s too late.”
He chuckled again at my casual refusal.
“Why was Benedict an exception?”
“…”
“Did he do anything terrible to you?”
“He did.”
Lecan’s expression was strange, as if my answer had surprised him. I guessed from his demeanor that there was something he wasn’t telling me. When I wondered where the missing ‘Political Personnel Reform Proposal’ was, it appeared it was in Lecan’s hands. He was already aware that all decisions came from my mind.
“Don’t interfere.”
As soon as I say that, he lets go of my arm and takes two steps backwards. I slumped against the wall, my support gone, but I didn’t think to ask him for more help.
He gazed down at me, speaking with the refined tone of a noble, his voice remaining true to the expected norm. “I’m sorry, but you’re not yet mine, and Benedict is under my service.”
“…”
Disoriented, sleepy, and the chaos brewing within me, I had no more strength to reply. Soon, the whole world turned into darkness.
