The Queen and the Lion - Chapter 22
After welcoming Prince Kaplan and the delegation from Heiban in the grand audience chamber that day, Lysian arranged for a private meeting with the prince.
Since she couldn’t openly discuss matters concerning Aslan in an official setting, Lysian intended to meet with Kaplan in secret to negotiate the terms.
When Kaplan was invited to the queen’s private audience chamber, he behaved as though he’d been invited into her bedroom.
“What a room truly befitting Your Majesty. It is both luxurious and harmonious, captivating to the eyes.”
“An overstatement, Prince.”
“Such refined interiors are unheard of in Heiban. Please allow me to take a closer look.”
Kaplan bowed deeply as he spoke. Unlike the curt Aslan, Kaplan was a cheerful, easygoing man with a knack for sociability. Since what he sought wasn’t much, Lysian allowed it with a small smile. Kaplan leisurely examined Lysian’s office, chattering as he went.
“Ah, this is marvelous. Working in a place like this, one might never grow tired of attending to state affairs every day.”
As Kaplan admired the surroundings with an awestruck gaze, a memory of Aslan surfaced in Lysian’s mind. Though he rarely spoke, his eyes had rolled around in undisguised fascination when he first beheld the ornate decor of Florea.
It would be nice if Aslan could just say what he likes and dislikes. Instead, he always acted before speaking, which often earned him scoldings from Lysian.
The only time he ever said he liked something was when he was inside me.
Lysian pouted her lips in annoyance. Perhaps Aslan, too, could have been a lighthearted, talkative man like Kaplan—someone who expressed his preferences openly and voiced his desires freely. But the stark contrast between Aslan, a captive brought here in chains, and Kaplan, the leader of a delegation, might have naturally led to such divergent responses.
She envisioned Aslan being affectionate and kind to another woman. The thought alone irritated her.
“If you’ve seen enough, shall we talk about matters of the state?”
To vent her rising displeasure, Lysian interrupted Kaplan. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, realizing he had been so engrossed that he lost track of time. His sheepish smile carried the innocent charm of a boy, the kind that evoked maternal instincts in women.
Kaplan had been popular with women from a young age, well aware of how to use his expressions to his advantage. With a slightly forlorn look, he gazed up at Lysian, who was a head shorter than him, like a pleading puppy.
“Oh dear, I seem to have kept Your Majesty waiting. I must have been too excited. But once I become the King Consort, I’ll be able to see it every day, won’t I?”
“There won’t be many days for you to see it, so I’ll forgive this much.”
Though Kaplan’s ambition to become the King Consort was evident in his words, Lysian rejected him firmly. Kaplan’s face stiffened slightly at her reply. Mistaking her response for playful rejection, he opened his mouth to speak further, but Lysian had no intention of humoring him.
“I have no intention of making you the King Consort.”
“How resolute you are. Do I not appeal to Your Majesty?”
Kaplan feigned a wounded expression.
He was undeniably a handsome man, as attractive as any Florean. His rough, wild aura—characteristic of Heiban men—lent him a uniquely compelling charm. It was easy to understand the whispers of admiration from the maids who had praised his good looks.
But no matter how many other women desired Kaplan, he held little value for Lysian. She had her eyes on someone else.
“However, fostering friendly relations with Heiban isn’t a bad idea. I’ll consider that positively.”
Not just positively—if Heiban refused, she’d simply devour it to ensure things went her way. Though a fierce possessiveness shimmered in Lysian’s violet eyes, her flower-like face concealed it, making her intentions difficult to discern.
Kaplan, clueless about Lysian’s thoughts, believed she was merely trying to keep him in suspense. If it had been any other woman, Kaplan would have found her insolence irritating and dismissed her as not worth his time. But Lysian was the Queen of Florea—a stunning queen who, if anyone, had the right to tease and toy with Kaplan.
With a relaxed smile, Kaplan replied, “You’ll find it hard to discover a man better than me in Heiban, Your Majesty.”
With that, Kaplan winked at Lysian—a gesture often praised as captivating by others.
The claim that no man surpassed him in Heiban drew a silent scoff from Lysian.
For Lysian had Aslan. But there was no need to reveal that to Kaplan. She remained silent. Furthermore, she had yet to broach the subject of the King Consort with Aslan.
Kaplan’s ambition to secure the position meant that, should he learn of Lysian’s intentions, he might whisper insidious things to Aslan. That could complicate matters irreparably.
Though obtaining Aslan’s agreement would solve the issue, it wasn’t a straightforward task.
In truth, Lysian feared that Aslan might refuse the position of King Consort.
Becoming the King Consort of Florea sounded grand and appealing, but in reality, it meant being tethered to Florea and, ultimately, to Lysian’s side.
