Bab 17: 17 — Sleep With Me

"Well then, have a good night, Your Highness," a maid whispered, gently closing the room behind her.

Cynthia sighed. She was seated in the large bed by the maids, bathed properly with rose petals, and her hair was carefully combed and let loose, dressed in a pastel pink night dress.

She glanced around at the bedroom in which she was asked to wait for her husband's arrival.

The hall possessed hardly any furniture, unlike the hall she recalled in her memories. And yet, she remembered carefully organizing it, in the hope her husband would take a liking to its appearance and spend the night in her room— perhaps that would have shut the servants' mouth. However, such never happened.

A soft scoff escaped her.

Cynthia, you were such a fool. That man never cared for you and yet...

As she criticized her past deeds, the door creaked open and a manly figure emerged into the bedroom.

A dark-coloured night robe with golden laces at its edge wrapped Lucian's muscular body, as he made his way towards the couch slightly further from the bedroom. A few drops of water could be seen dripping down his hair in the dimly lighted area— he had just taken a shower.

"Just like... in the past, is it?" Cynthia wondered. "Whatever it is. I shouldn't act like how I have before."

Inhaling deeply, the silver-haired lady rose from her seat, approaching her husband with a determined complexion. She had to spend the night with him to avoid the same fate in her dream!

"Your Highness," she spoke, trying to keep her voice soft and steady despite her trembling hands. She reached out for his face, forcing Lucian to turn her way.

Lucian pursed his lips, feeling the young woman's warmth against his skin. His blood boiled at the sight of her with contempt however he couldn't misbehave with her. The king wouldn't let him go if she were to complain about him.

"What is it?" He demanded, swiftly removing her hands from his face.

"Today is our wedding night."

"I know. Is that what you wanted to tell me? If so, please return to the bed. I will sleep here."

"No!" She shouted. She needed to establish a proper relationship with him. Tonight was the first and last time Lucian would spend with her.

"We need to sleep together," she urged.

Lucian scoffed at her absurd suggestion. Didn't she fear he would murder her the moment she went into deep slumber? A fragile woman whom he hated the most, lying defenselessly beside him, a war hero, stood no chance to remain alive if he wished to unalive her.

"I am able to sleep anywhere. You don't need to force yourself to make room for me there."

Although Lucian's words might have seemed considerate, he attempted to keep his distance from the princess of his enemy's kingdom.

Taking a deep breath, Cynthia placed her hands on the young man's collar.

Lucian winced at her daring action.

"We are married, so it is important for us to... Do you not wish for a child, Your Highness?"

"A child? With you?" Lucian raised an eyebrow, grimacing at her words.

"Yes. I am your wedded wife. If not me, who else?"

"My wife, you say?"

Cynthia gently released Lucian, biting her lips, hoping to convince him.

"As you wish," Lucian rose from the couch and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the bed.

Cynthia gulped, finding herself below him in the blink of an eye. No matter the amount of agility with which she could wield a sword, this man was physically stronger than her.

Gods are so unfair. Why make men stronger than women?

While wondering and cursing the gods in her mind, she blinked rapidly, looking up at her husband.

"This is what you asked for, wasn't it?" Lucian demanded, his emerald eyes glimmering in the dimly lighted, dark room.

With trembling hands, Cynthia reached for his night robe, parting the cloth to expose his chest. She had no experience in this domain.

Even in her past life, she died a virgin!

That realization caused her face to flush in embarrassment, and she couldn't hide her stiff expression no matter how hard she attempted to.

The dark-haired young man brushed off her hands and sat on the bed.

"If you don't like it, why are you doing this? We needn't do this. We don't..."

Love each other. Rather hate each other to the point of killing each other.

Lucian wished to say but he kept quiet for a while before parting his lips.

"If you fear rumours, then..." he reached for the sword hung on the wall above the bed.

Cynthia sat on the bed, figuring out his intention. Without a second thought, she took away the blade and slashed the palm of her hand without blinking, keeping her violet eyes locked into his emerald ones.

She let a few drops of blood fall on the white bed sheets at the length of her lower body while a smirk formed on her lips.

Lucian, shocked at the sight, quickly took the sword back.

"What are you?..."

"It was my idea. You shouldn't hurt yourself for someone else, Your Highness."

In the past, Lucian always bore the weight of others' mistakes, making him easy to trample on. Even if she hated him for his behaviour towards her, she wanted him to stand up for himself at times.

After a pause, she continued, "Although I believe you don't wish to sleep with me, do lay beside me in case a servant comes patrolling during the night. I'm sure you don't want strange rumours to travel throughout the mansion."

Having said so, Cynthia turned her back to him and lay at the right corner of the bed, leaving the left side empty for Lucian.

Although her statements about servants entering a newlywed couple's bedroom during their sleep sounded ridiculous, Lucian knew the king might as well send spies to make sure the marriage had been performed adequately.

Sighing, Lucian gently lay beside the strange woman. His hatred towards her grew with each second he spent with her. Princess Cynthia only cared about herself and didn't care to wonder what he thought about her odd suggestions.

And slowly, the couple drifted into sleep.

The sound of faint footsteps and a knock on the door caused Lucian and Cynthia to sit on their bed, glancing at each other.

"Who could it be at this hour?.." Cynthia softly whispered.