Chapter 89
“You said you like chicken more. You should’ve told me earlier. Then I would’ve ordered roasted chicken instead of steak.”
Ian, laughing cheerfully, glanced at Lemoni who was sitting beside him. The woman sat like a lifeless doll. She had always been calm, but now, with her will drained away, she seemed no different from a puppet with its strings cut.
“I brought in a chef from the Southern Empire to make this.”
At those words, her quiet violet eyes widened slightly, as if startled awake. Of course, he had kidnapped the chef. Swallowing down the last part of that truth, Ian lifted a piece of food with his fork and held it to her lips. Thankfully, her gaze moved to the fork. For a moment, he worried that she might truly be broken since she barely moved—but Lemoni obediently accepted his gesture. She didn’t spit it out and chewed carefully, her neat manner making the corner of his lips curve faintly.
It was a pleasing sight.
He hadn’t seated her across from him, but beside him, solely because he wanted to watch every small movement of her body. Her small, plump lips moved just as he wanted, diligently chewing the food.
“Is it good?”
“Yes.”
When he offered the fork again like one might feed a child, the woman quietly opened her mouth. What a perfect mealtime this was. As if savoring the flawless moment, he gazed at her in silence. But then, after quietly accepting mouthful after mouthful, she paused to breathe.
“…Ian. Do you like this?”
It was an unexpected question—like a doll suddenly springing to life.
“I like you.”
His lips curved playfully, but she seemed unsatisfied, her lips tightening as though that wasn’t the answer she wanted.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Of course, it would be perfect if you liked me too. But tell me, Lemoni, what in this world is perfect?”
Unfortunately, the world wasn’t his to bend.
“I mean… things like what you did today. What’s happening outside this room. Those sorts of things.”
As she masked her expression and probed him cautiously, countless thoughts crossed Ian’s mind. Why not me? Why Deon? If I had been Lemoni’s first-class prisoner, would things have turned out differently?
And yet, he didn’t regret it, because—
“Still, isn’t this better than you leaving? Even if you’re broken, as long as you’re by my side, I can take care of you. Don’t you agree?”
—because right now, Lemoni was at his side.
At his gentle words, the woman’s machine-like eyes suddenly flared wide. Anger and disbelief flickered through those beautiful violet irises like fire—but only for a moment. Just as quickly, they dimmed and went out, like someone who had simply given up.
Lemoni’s strength was knowing when to stay still. After their meal, he lay beside her on the bed, stroking her soft golden hair, until her breathing settled into the quiet, steady rhythm of sleep.
“…Looks like she really has given up.”
The small shoulders curled in his embrace lay motionless, like a corpse. For a fleeting moment, Ian felt something like guilt swell in his chest. Of course, it was no reason to set her free. He kissed her pale, round forehead.
Poor, lovely Lemoni. Why do people cage their precious birds? Because birds long for the sky. If only she had chosen him instead of Deon, he wouldn’t have locked her away in this stifling room.
Once he was sure Lemoni had fallen completely asleep, Ian stepped outside.
“There was a disturbance in the underground prison.”
“Go on.”
A knight who had been waiting quietly in the corridor bowed his head.
“The knights of the Southern Empire imprisoned there discovered a secret passage leading directly outside. They also tried to lure Lady Lemoni into the underground by using their own blood to tempt the guards. We caught them in the act and locked them in the torture chamber.”
Ian smiled faintly. So, even while pretending to give up, Lemoni had been scheming to escape. Truly troublesome—and yet endearing.
“Deal with the guards who were seduced.”
“Yes, understood. But… aren’t you going to the council chamber?”
As Ian walked in the opposite direction of the council hall, the knight trailing behind him asked quietly.
“There’s somewhere else I need to stop first.”
The place he arrived at was a storage room. When he lit a torch, the pitch-dark space revealed a single chair placed upon the cold wooden floor—and bound to it, a woman who looked ready to collapse.
“…That damned vampire bastard…”
Through her fallen pink hair, her venomous green eyes glared up at him.
When the knight shut the door, the sunlight that had poured in like from a cave’s mouth was cut off, leaving only the torchlight illuminating Raelia. She looked just like a criminal before the guillotine.
“Let’s continue the talk we had last night.”
“Talk? At least give me some bread…”
“Fill her with water.”
At Ian’s order, a knight plunged her head into a barrel of water. Bubbles and muffled sounds rose. When her head was finally pulled up, she gasped desperately for air, her body convulsing.
“Now you’re full, aren’t you?”
“You bastard…”
“Still not full?”
Tilting his head, Ian gave the knight a sharp look, and again her head was shoved under.
Ian kept smiling, but in truth, his mood had soured since last night. Despite forcing her to drink water again and again, all he got from Raelia was talk about love—nothing but Lemoni and that damned man.
Lemoni and that wretched bastard’s unbreakable bond.
What else could it be but fate? Deon had rescued her when she was lost as a child, befriended her, and later, they had met again—as prisoner and guard.
“Now that you’re full, you should have enough strength to talk about the forbidden book.”
No matter how he thought about it, there was no way for him to wedge himself between the two. Realizing this, Ian had decided to give up on her heart altogether—and settle for owning her body instead.
“My lord, it’s time for the council meeting…”
“Postpone it.”
Leaning his chin on one hand, Ian’s posture looked lazy, but his golden eyes were terrifyingly cold. He had crawled back into that damned vampire den for only one reason: Lemoni. Everything else came second.
“Why does that forbidden book carry Lemoni’s scent?”
Rising from the chair, his shadow fell over Raelia’s trembling green eyes.
“Did you stain the book with her blood?”
As he bent toward her, Raelia flinched and swallowed hard.
“Do you… like her scent?”
“You’d better focus on telling me about the book.”
For a moment, she studied his face, then curved her lips into a sly smile.
“And how about my scent? Not too bad, right?”
“Mm. Not bad at all.”
Of course, Ian’s smile was far brighter and smoother than hers.
“But the problem is, I don’t react to anyone but Lemoni.”
“…You really are insane, aren’t you?”
Red with rage, Raelia contorted her face in disgust, but Ian merely tapped at the armrest where her wrist was bound, his finger knocking against it lightly.
He was getting bored. No amount of torture seemed enough to make her talk. He couldn’t very well tear her mouth open by force, either. If this continued, he’d only waste time on fruitless chatter.
“If you won’t talk, I’ll just find out for myself.”
“Find out for yourself? Unless I tell you, there’s no way you’ll ever learn about the book—”
“Open it.”
Raelia’s smirk faltered. When Ian straightened and slipped his hand into his pocket, a knight pulled out the forbidden book and nodded.
“Are you insane?! That book was locked away in Draeth Prison! Do you even know what’s inside, and yet you’re opening it?”
So she only now realized he was mad? Pathetic—or perhaps naïve.
“Open it.”
Annoyed by her screaming, Ian frowned slightly and glanced at the closed door. Even then, he was thinking only of Lemoni. Had she heard the shouting? If she had, how would she see him now?
The instant he turned his head carelessly, many things happened at once.
First: the knight who opened the book disappeared. More precisely, a sudden, dense fog erupted, making it impossible to see what was in front of them.
Second: through the thick mist, Raelia’s green eyes widened in horror as if the world itself had collapsed, fixed on someone beyond.
And third—
“…What is it this time, Raelia?”
A woman he had never seen before stood there in a worn nightgown. She glanced down at her palm with disbelief, then gave a hollow laugh as though exhausted, her gaze locking onto the bound Raelia.
“And who might you be?” Ian asked evenly. He had already considered the worst-case scenario when opening the book, so her sudden appearance did not surprise him much.
“Me? I’m Lemoni Christina.”
At that answer, Ian’s gaze wavered for the first time.
