Episode 12 — The Wolf’s Question
“I’ve answered your question well enough,” Yvonne said quietly. “Now it’s my turn. Why did you sneak into the Imperial Palace?”
Ricardo said nothing. He just looked at her — that unreadable, intense gaze that made her pulse jump for no reason.
“If you don’t want to answer,” Yvonne continued calmly, “that’s fine. I won’t force you. As I’ve said before, I’m not your enemy. I want you to live — and leave this palace alive.”
Ricardo plucked a loose strand of her silver hair caught on her pearl earring, twirling it between his fingers. His voice dropped, low and quiet.
“And why is that?”
His touch was far too casual — like she was some delicate thing he could examine freely. It made her uncomfortable, though she hid it behind a cool expression. He was injured; she couldn’t shove him away, even if she wanted to.
Ricardo’s crimson eyes never left her. “Why do you want to save me?”
“My question came first,” she replied sharply.
He smirked. “So it’s a test, then? To see who wins?”
Before she could respond, he moved.
Thud!
Without warning, Ricardo grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward him.
Yvonne gasped — her body went rigid as his strength pinned her close.
They were alone, completely alone, and what he was doing bordered on blasphemy. But Ricardo didn’t seem to care.
He used his other hand to tilt her chin up, his thumb brushing under her jaw.
“What do you think will happen,” he murmured, “if that lovely mouth of yours refuses to answer?”
“Let go,” Yvonne hissed, struggling.
He only smiled. “Go ahead. Scream, if you want. Maybe someone will hear you. The Crown Princess caught alone with the mad Wolf of Naha — quite the scandal, isn’t it?”
Her teeth clenched. She glared at him fiercely, but Ricardo only grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself.
The air between them was tense enough to snap.
If he wanted to, he could close that last inch between them — and she knew he might.
And just as his face dipped closer, Yvonne spoke in a rush.
“…Because I have to save you.”
That stopped him.
Her cobalt-blue eyes met his directly — piercing, unwavering.
“I have a plan,” she said steadily. “And you… are the key to it.”
Ricardo let out a short laugh. “So I’m part of a plan I know nothing about?”
“I can’t tell you yet. Not until I can trust you.”
In her past life, Ricardo’s rebellion had begun after her death — months later, in the dead of winter.
Right now, it was early spring, just before the Blooming Festival. If she revealed too much too soon, she could lose everything.
“When the time comes,” she said softly, “you’ll know everything. I promise, as the Crown Princess.”
Ricardo said nothing. He just studied her — quietly, intently.
“…And maybe,” Yvonne added after a moment, “maybe I pitied you a little.”
He blinked. “Pitied me?”
“Yes.”
He snorted, half amused, half offended. “That’s rich — coming from you. The Crown Princess, who’s never even had her coronation because her Emperor barely looks her way. You’re the pitiful one here.”
“You looked like a corpse that night,” she said bluntly. “I thought I was burying the dead, not saving you.”
“…Ha.”
“Now, let go.”
Her chin jerked slightly toward his hand, and after a pause, Ricardo actually released her.
Yvonne quickly stepped back, rubbing her wrist, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.
He watched her silently, then let out a quiet breath of laughter.
“Am I really that frightening?”
“I’m not scared of you,” she said honestly. “I just don’t trust what you might do.”
Ricardo gave a faint shrug. “Fair enough.”
Yvonne straightened, brushing invisible dust from her sleeve. “If you don’t want to answer my question, I won’t press further. I know you must have your reasons for coming here.”
Ricardo chuckled under his breath. “You’re strange, Your Highness. Everyone says you’re a loyal, proper woman — yet here you are, protecting a man who broke into the palace. People might start thinking you’ve lost your mind.”
“Maybe,” she said softly. “But I don’t need you to understand it right now.”
Her thoughts flickered briefly — He doesn’t know yet. He doesn’t realize he’s the piece that will bring this empire down.
But it wasn’t the time. Not yet.
She folded her hands neatly. “Since you don’t plan to tell me why you’re here, I’ll hold off on answering your question too.”
He tilted his head, a wry smile tugging at his mouth. “…You’re an interesting woman.”
Yvonne sighed quietly and stepped closer.
“Show me your wound. I need to check if it’s healing properly.”
“I won’t die from a little cut,” he muttered.
“For someone who nearly bled out and lived only because of my help, you still have too much pride.”
Ricardo frowned, annoyed. “You really enjoy bruising my ego, don’t you?”
“Then stop moving so much and heal faster,” she replied calmly. “The sooner you recover, the sooner you can leave me.”
As she spoke, Yvonne carefully loosened the bandage around his side.
There was a faint stain of dried blood, but not much. The wound was closing nicely — her rough patch job had done the trick.
Relieved, she rewrapped it with steady hands.
“You keep touching me like that, and it tickles,” he grumbled.
She ignored him. “While I’m gone, listen to Lucy. Her words are as good as mine.”
“She talks too much,” Ricardo muttered, easing back against the sofa with a slight wince.
“My plans have changed,” Yvonne said suddenly, her tone quiet but sure.
“Next week, the people of the palace will move to the summer residence.”
She fetched a blanket and gently draped it over his bare shoulders.
“You’ll go with me.”
Ricardo looked at her, puzzled. “And how do you plan to get me past the guards?”
“There’s a hidden compartment under one of the carriages,” she explained. “You’ll hide there during inspection. The guards who check it are… my people. You’ll be safe.”
Her voice was calm, certain — the voice of a woman who already saw the path ahead.
“The security at the summer residence is looser than here. Once we’re there, you’ll escape — and return to the capital during the Blooming Festival. No one will suspect a thing.”
Ricardo blinked, eyebrows raised. “…You’re sure there’s space under that carriage? Because, unlike you, I’m not exactly small. Haven’t you noticed — after touching me so many times?”
Yvonne’s cheeks flushed instantly. She waved her hands in flustered panic.
“T-That was for medical treatment! Don’t twist my words! And there’s plenty of space!”
Ricardo’s smirk deepened. He stood suddenly, ignoring her warning.
“Don’t move!” she said, alarmed.
“It’s my body,” he replied lazily, taking another step closer. “Shouldn’t I be free to do as I please with it?”
Even wounded, his presence filled the room.
She’d seen him shirtless enough times by now, but it didn’t make it any easier — her face burned hot all the way to her ears.
Ricardo noticed, of course. His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper.
“Your Highness… have you ever seen a man’s body before?”
“…I don’t want to answer that.”
She tried to sound calm, but her voice wavered.
She knew that showing any reaction was dangerous — once he saw her flustered, he’d never let her win.
But she couldn’t help it.
He kept closing the distance between them — like a predator circling prey.
And she kept reminding herself — Ricardo is a tool. A means to an end.
But the man in front of her wasn’t a weapon right now. He was a living, breathing man — watching her with wild, unreadable eyes.
The air between them tightened, sharp as ice.
Every breath, every second, felt like walking the edge of a blade.
Ricardo slowly lifted a hand — his movements deliberate, almost reverent —
And the world seemed to hold its breath.
