Looking for a Husband to Confine Me - Chapter 38.1
Chapter 38.1
Unlike Bashar’s hardened expression, Damian slowly lifted the corners of his lips into a smile. Fear, terror, worry—none of these emotions were visible. He seemed to find the current situation amusing.
“If we fail to deal with the beast first, or if we can’t stop Pazl, another beast might be summoned to the sanctuary.”
“You seem to find this situation rather entertaining.” Bashar, his voice sharp, finally looked at Damian’s face. But Damian remained unfazed. “I’m simply curious as to who is behind all this, who is aiding Pazl, that they dare to act so brazenly.” He replied in his usual languid, slow voice. “Or perhaps, are all the people of the Kishar Kingdom this reckless?”
“….” At Damian’s added words, one of Bashar’s eyebrows twitched. The sound of teeth grinding together, and a thud could be heard clearly, despite the increased distance between them.
“It seems the people of the Lefkind Empire haven’t learned proper manners.”
“If you’re referring to me, then you’ve clearly seen it yourself. My origins are humble; my education, lacking.” Bashar spoke coldly, and Damian responded lightly. With each exchange, the atmosphere grew more hostile, the tension primarily emanating from Bashar.
‘Why are they acting like this all of a sudden?’
I’d never heard that Bashar and Damian had a bad relationship in the novel. Of course, in the original story, Bashar was already dead, and there were no scenes where he directly clashed with Damian. Perhaps this was the first time they’d truly faced each other like this. Their personalities seemed fundamentally incompatible. I’d thought Haroon would get along well with Damian, given their similar temperaments, but I was mistaken. Before things could escalate further, I spoke.
“Shouldn’t we stop Pazl before he does something?” I said, trying to change the mood.
‘Let’s focus on grasping the current situation instead of pointlessly fighting here.’ I spoke with heartfelt urgency, but it seemed no one noticed my true feelings. One openly displayed his displeasure, while the other maintained a sly, almost provocative demeanor.
“If it weren’t for this situation, that smug face of yours would already be rolling on the floor.”
“So, ultimately, Your Highness can’t do anything on your own.”
“Damian!” How could he be so good at provoking him? I hurriedly spoke, sensing this could go on forever. The moment I called his name, Damian’s eyes met mine, as if asking, ‘Did you just call me?’
“Now’s not the time to fight.”
“I wasn’t fighting, Amelia.”
“I wasn’t fighting either. We were merely conversing.” Damian and Bashar responded immediately. One could call their previous exchange a quarrel, a kind of fight, but both men feigned ignorance, their replies nonchalant.
“Surely, you’re not going to just stand by and let Pazl do whatever he wants?” Unlike before, we had Damian and the knights who came to support us, but it wouldn’t be good if more beasts were summoned here. Until now, I’d focused on protecting Bashar by avoiding Pazl, but that was no longer the best approach. Stopping Pazl from summoning more beasts was the priority.
It was Damian who first yielded. “Your Highness Bashar, please forgive my rudeness.”
I was relieved that he took the initiative, as Bashar was unlikely to be the first to swallow his pride. Damian’s voice was utterly sincere, a stark contrast to his earlier flippancy. Bashar, in response to his change in attitude, nodded, his expression still sullen, but he didn’t turn away. He muttered, “I’ll overlook it just this once,” as if granting a special favor.
“Amelia.”
Having received Bashar’s grudging forgiveness, Damian softly called my name. His eyes seemed to say, ‘Is this better?’ as if seeking praise for following instructions, like a puppy wanting a reward for even the smallest act of obedience.
‘Damian and a puppy…’ No, that wasn’t right at all. The words felt utterly mismatched. While his appearance resembled a military dog, like a German Shepherd, he couldn’t be compared to well-trained ones.
He was closer to a wild wolf, untamed and retaining its primal instincts, a lone wolf hunting in its own unique way. His silver hair further reinforced the wolfish image. The thought of his fine, silver fur brought a smile to my lips, and I shook my head, dispelling the frivolous thought.
“We should ask Kelliard about the situation outside.” I was speaking to Damian as we started walking. Kelliard had been observing the hallway, so we might be able to learn Pazl’s current location, though I wasn’t holding out much hope.
Just as I passed Damian, he suddenly reached out and grasped my wrist.
“…?” I looked up at him, puzzled. The usual relaxed expression was gone from his face. Damian frowned, looking down at me, his gaze fixed on my left arm.
“…Damian? Sir Damian?” I called his name again, and his frown deepened. He clicked his tongue, a shh sound escaping his lips. “Just Damian is fine. And….” His second frown seemed to be in response to my addressing him as ‘Sir Damian.’
