The Queen and the Lion - Chapter 21
It feels like a day to drown in alcohol. Yet, as a prisoner in a foreign land, indulging in such luxury was far from possible.
Aslan clutched his throbbing head, a deep frustration burning within him. The helplessness of his situation consumed him, leaving him listless. At that moment, Lysian’s chamberlain appeared, seeking him.
“Her Majesty requests your presence.”
The call caught Aslan off guard. He had been preparing himself for the possibility that Lysian might never summon him again. Despite his surprise, he felt an odd sense of relief. Like an eager dog anticipating its master, he hurried to prepare and stepped out.
Aslan’s long strides left the chamberlain, a full head shorter, scrambling to keep up. The chamberlain quickened his pace, but Aslan, too preoccupied with his own thoughts, paid no heed. At first, he had left with enthusiasm, but as he walked, his mind became tangled with questions.
Why did Lysian call for me?
Was it to share her bed? Had her interest in me not yet faded? Or was it to bid a final farewell to the intimacy we once shared?
These thoughts froze Aslan mid-step. The sudden halt nearly caused the chamberlain to collide with his back. Startled, the chamberlain asked, “Is something wrong, my lord?”
“…No, nothing at all.”
Aslan rubbed his face with a trembling hand, his lips twitching uncontrollably. His emotions were a chaotic mess, his expression betraying his struggle to maintain composure.
His life had always been simple. He did what he could and pursued what he desired.
He opposed Kaplan because he disliked him, wielded a sword because he was skilled with it… and held Lysian because he wanted her. If someone lost interest in him, he walked away without regret. That was how Aslan had lived until now.
But with Lysian, things were different.
If there was even the slightest chance that she still found him appealing… Would she let him stay by her side if he pleaded? But what if she had grown tired of him? Could he prove his worth to her, even as something other than a bedfellow?
Yet Lysian had everything she needed. She didn’t lack for guards and certainly wouldn’t need a former general of Heiban to protect her. Besides, Aslan knew himself too well. Having tasted the sweetness of her body, he couldn’t simply watch her from afar.
As they approached Lysian’s chambers, the door opened, and a familiar figure emerged.
It was Kaplan.
Even in the dim light, Kaplan’s face radiated brilliance, and Aslan’s expression hardened instantly. His fists, large and strong enough to fight bears, clenched tightly, sweat gathering on his palms.
“Oh, isn’t this Sir Yilmaz?” Kaplan’s voice was almost mocking. “What brings you here at this late hour?”
Aslan forced himself to answer respectfully, though his forced smile was painfully obvious. “I was summoned by Her Majesty. And you, Sir Kaplan?”
“I was consulting Her Majesty about the King Father.” Kaplan’s gaze was sharp, his tone casual. “But you, Sir Yilmaz, what brings you here at this unusual hour?”
Aslan fell silent. Kaplan’s eyes gleamed with curiosity, like a predator assessing its prey.
Jealousy churned within Aslan, threatening to boil over. He wanted to grab Kaplan by the collar and shake him, demanding to know what he had been doing in Lysian’s chambers. But he held himself back. He couldn’t risk causing trouble for Lysian. Summoning every ounce of restraint he had, Aslan pressed his lips tightly shut, knowing he couldn’t trust himself to speak without saying something regrettable.
Kaplan’s gaze roamed over Aslan, sizing him up.
Still dressed in Florean attire rather than Heiban’s military garb, Aslan’s appearance lacked any clear connection to Lysian. He didn’t look like a queen’s bedmate. Instead, he looked rough, battle-hardened, and even menacing. To Kaplan, raised amidst the genteel decorum of Florean nobility, Aslan seemed more beast than man—far removed from the delicate, refined image Lysian embodied.
Kaplan unconsciously dismissed the possibility of Aslan being connected to the queen in any intimate way.
The chamberlain, having announced Aslan’s arrival to Lysian, put an end to the tense standoff between the two men. From within the room, Lysian’s voice called out softly, beckoning Aslan to enter.
Kaplan and Aslan exchanged sharp glares before each turned away, heading toward their respective destinations.
