ESL Chapter 53

Those lips, red and full as rose petals, were sweet as though they held honey within them.

Just a little more…

Luciel, intoxicated by that sweetness, lost himself and pressed kiss after kiss upon the other person. He must have bitten down at some point, because the taste of blood seeped from those lips — and even that tasted sweet to him. As he moved his mouth down to the other person’s neck, a subtle, natural scent stirred something deep within him.

It was a fresh fragrance, something like the smell of a forest, or perhaps of grass. Unable to restrain himself, he sank his teeth in — and from those previously closed lips came a low, quiet moan. That sound only stirred him further. Had his name not been called, he would never have been able to stop.

[Lu… ci… el.]

A clear, transparent voice — unhurried, yet carrying an undeniable force — called his name. Hearing it repeated, again and again, he found, to his own astonishment, that his senses were slowly returning. And with them, the awareness of exactly whose body he was lying over.

I’ve lost my mind….. Consumed by self-loathing at the realization that he had nearly forced himself upon his friend, he bit down hard on his own lower lip. As his lip split and the faint metallic taste of his own blood replaced the fragrant sweetness of hers, his mind finally began to clear. And with her words — words like a spell — he was freed from the curse-like shackles that had bound him for so long.

[It’s alright…. Trust me….]

The moment he met those red eyes — beautiful and bewitching, utterly unwavering — he understood. Just as a newborn creature instinctively recognizes its mother, he too, by pure instinct, had engraved her upon his heart…

“…….”

Luciel opened his eyes slowly. The sight of elegant, refined wallpaper greeted him, and he blinked several times. His body, which had been wracked with agony and tension from the aphrodisiac — as though it might burst at any moment — now felt as light as a feather.

Was she a dream…?

Unable to tell whether what had happened with Lea was real or a dream, he raised his right hand and covered his face — and then the voice he had heard in that dream made him bolt upright in shock.

“You’re finally awake.”

He turned his head. There, seated in a chair a short distance away, was her figure, holding a book in her hands, filling his entire field of vision.

“Lea….? How did you…?”

Luciel could not finish the sentence. Lea watched him, closed the book she had been reading, rose from the chair, and walked toward him. Meeting her eyes — vivid and luminous as red gemstones — the dream came flooding back. Or rather… given that she was here, and given the visible mark of a wound on that full, rose-petal lip of hers… it had clearly been real.

Whoosh.

In an instant, Luciel’s ears flushed scarlet, and he snapped his head away. The shameless thing he had done came back to him all at once, and he could not bring himself to meet her eyes.

“Hmm~”

Lea’s eyes narrowed slightly. She understood that he was burning with guilt and embarrassment — but what he had done to her was too much to simply overlook. If he had come to his senses on the night it happened, she might well have beaten him black and blue regardless of his condition. But time heals all things, and with two days having passed, her anger had nearly dissipated. Fortunately for Luciel, she was not the type to harbor resentment.

‘But I can’t forgive him just like that.’

Lea smiled with a hint of mischief, reached out, and pinched Luciel’s cheek hard.

“You think looking away is going to get you off the hook? Do you have any idea why I have to wear such a stifling outfit in this weather?”

His cheek pulled by her hand, his head turned involuntarily, and he found himself staring blankly at Lea, who was dressed in a water-blue gown with a high neck that reached to her throat. Knowing full well just how slender and pale that neck beneath the fabric was, the memory of what he had done struck him again, and he bowed his head deeply. He had not a single word to say in his defense.

“You have a mouth, don’t you? Use it. Well?”

Lea grabbed Luciel’s cheek and shook it with a ferocity that seemed ready to rattle his very soul out of him. His head swayed back and forth. Though she was gripping him quite painfully, he didn’t let out so much as a whimper, simply leaving his cheek entirely in her hands. That resigned expression of his drained away what remained of her anger, and she released his cheek. Noticing how red and swollen it had become from how hard she’d gripped it — enough to make her wonder if she’d gone too far — Lea pursed her lips.

‘No… not after what he did to me…’

She was toying with the idea of tormenting him a little more, when she noticed that Luciel’s lips — which had seemed frozen stiff — were beginning to move, and she looked at him.

“…I’m sorry…..”

It was only three words, but the weight of guilt in his voice came through clearly enough. With his head bowed, he was genuinely, sincerely sorry. She let out a quiet sigh at the sight of him, dropped herself onto the edge of the bed, and said in a slightly deflated tone:

“Honestly, it’s not all your fault. I was careless too.”

“….That’s not—!”

Luciel jerked his head up — and froze when he saw the slight upward curve of her pretty lips. She was smiling.

“I’m glad you’re safe. I’m glad I was able to help. So I forgive you. It wasn’t intentional, was it?”

“……”

“You must be thirsty. I’ll go get you something to drink. When Berchel finds out you’ve woken up, he’ll be thrilled.”

Though Ian might try to kill you again… Lea swallowed the rest of that thought and moved to get up. But Luciel’s hand was faster. Lea turned to look at him, his hand now wrapped around her wrist.

“….Thank you.”

He had his face covered with one hand, but between his fingers, his face was as red as a tomato. In all the time they had known each other in the Kingdom of Hamel — over a year — she had never once seen him flush this deeply. And at the sight of it, the corners of Lea’s eyes curved upward softly.

“Alright.”

****

Berchel heard from Lea that Luciel had woken up, and broke into a dead sprint. He felt a small pang at having stepped away for a moment of sleep after keeping vigil all night, only for his lord to wake in that gap — but the sheer joy of knowing he had woken at all was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Berchel threw open the door to the room where Luciel was resting and burst inside. The moment he saw his lord sitting up on the bed, he couldn’t help but shout:

“My lord!!!”

“…You’re loud.”

It was the sort of response one might have called cold, but Berchel didn’t mind in the slightest. On the contrary, he exhaled with unmistakable relief and said:

“Truly, you are well. I was so worried to hear you had been poisoned by a strong aphrodisiac — but seeing that you’re the same as ever, I’m reassured that your head, at least, has suffered no damage.”

“……”

What on earth did this man think of his own master… Luciel fixed him with a cold, flat stare, but Berchel didn’t seem to notice, and instead edged closer to whisper conspiratorially:

“By the way — whatever did you do to the young lady? Did things go… all the way?”

For a moment, the eyes of Luciel and Berchel met. Luciel stared at those gleaming, expectant eyes of Berchel’s — and brought his hand down hard on the back of his head.

“You lunatic.”

“Ow! I keep telling you, use your words!”

Luciel looked down at Berchel, who was doubled over groaning and clutching the back of his skull, with an expression of pure exasperation. He threw off the blanket, climbed out of bed, and swayed slightly — his body having been still for so long — but quickly steadied himself. He walked to the window and threw it open wide. The crisp morning air filled his lungs, and as his head cleared, he spoke.

“What’s the current situation?”

Berchel, who had still been crouching on the floor clutching the back of his head, underwent an instantaneous shift in his expression, turning entirely serious as he rose.

“A warrant has been issued for your arrest, my lord.”

“And here?”

“Here is—”

Berchel had just begun to answer when the sound of the door opening cut him off, and he fell silent. Lea’s voice took his place.

“This is a branch of the information division of Duke Kaien’s household of the Yurasen Empire — the Teor branch, to be precise.”

She set down the tray she had brought, lifted the water pitcher, and poured water into a cup. Luciel’s gaze drifted naturally toward her.

“This is the only place beyond the reach of the Mihael Duchy.”

Luciel watched, as though entranced, the movement of those full, rose-petal lips. And as he recalled just how sweet those lips had tasted, his heart began, slowly, to beat harder. But he quickly pressed the feeling down and kept it from showing. Yet Berchel, who had spent so many years at his side, caught that fleeting look in the fraction of a second it lasted.

“It seems that while the body didn’t go all the way, the heart certainly did.”

Berchel had appeared from nowhere, snickering and whispering in his ear. A tendon rose visibly on the back of Luciel’s head, and his hand went up — but Berchel’s wide, bright eyes, conveying the clear message that he would tell if struck, forced Luciel to lower it again. Still, the look in Luciel’s eyes was sharp enough to suggest he’d gladly run the man through on the spot, and Berchel responded with an earnest, pleading gaze that silently promised he would never say a word.

“You two, what are you doing? Here — drink this.”

“Thank you.”

What saved Berchel was the glass of water. Luciel received the cup Lea held out to him, and the smile that spread across his face was as though there had never been any anger at all. Berchel stared at the expression with undisguised disbelief. Since when had he gotten so good at smiling…

“Right then, let’s hear it. How did you end up falling for such a sloppy trick?”

Lea settled into a chair and posed the question. Luciel drank the water from the cup she’d handed him, passed the empty glass to Berchel, and leaned against the window frame, gazing out at the view as he spoke.

“I thought things would still be fine for a while. There was still a year until I came of age, and without a child carrying my bloodline, there’d be no reason to kill me. I didn’t think he’d make such a reckless move.”

“That means your uncle must have something he’s counting on.”

“Yes… A few years ago, my uncle secretly aligned himself with a certain organization. I imagine he received their assistance. The fact that it’s been this quiet while I’ve been detained means that the Council of Elders and the Clan Assembly have already been brought under control.”

“This is something I’ve genuinely been curious about for a while… Why have you been letting him do this to you all this time?”

+++++++ Side Story 1 +++++++

〈 Subtitle: While Luciel Slept — Things He Doesn’t Know 〉

When Lea appeared in Razen’s office carrying Luciel in her arms, the room was thrown into complete shock. Her swollen, wounded lips and torn dress were the first blow; the marks covering her pale white neck and shoulders were the second.

Hissss.

A black aura emanated from Ian’s body. Without a word, he drew his sword. As he stepped forward to cut Luciel down then and there, Berchel threw himself bodily in the way.

“Please, restrain yourself! His lordship was under the influence of a drug — that is the only reason!”

“If you don’t move, I will cut you down as well.”

“I will not move!”

While Berchel and Ian wrestled with each other, Razen produced a shawl from somewhere and draped it over her shoulders.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

At Razen’s question, Lea looked down at the sleeping Luciel and asked:

“When do you think he’ll wake up?”

“….. I’m not certain..”

That she would still be concerned for her friend even in a situation like this — Razen thought her heart was simply too tender. But what she said next made him doubt his own ears.

“I shouldn’t hit someone who’s asleep, should I?”

“…Pardon?”

Hit him? Razen found it difficult to believe that such a word — the kind used by street ruffians — had come out of the mouth of the young lady standing before him. Sure enough, it seemed he must have misheard her. What she said immediately after was, at least, the more refined equivalent.

“Should I just give him a few good whacks? If I hit him now, I feel like he’ll wake up without even knowing he was hit.”

“…….”

“You’ve got nothing to say for yourself, have you, Luciel? Well, what would you even say.”

Razen had been watching Lea — all radiant smiles and seemingly on the verge of actually hitting Luciel — with a dumbfounded expression for a moment, before a short, surprised laugh escaped him. Right. There was no way the person he had chosen to serve could ever be ordinary.

“It seems rather more urgent to change your clothes first than to strike the young lord, my lady.”

Razen’s words seemed to remind Lea of her own state of dishevelment, and she let out a small, startled “oh!” She grabbed the shawl and shot to her feet — and as she did, Luciel’s head hit the floor with an audible thud. Nobody paid it any mind.

“Then I’ll go take a bath and get changed and be back. I leave the rest to you, Razen.”

“Of course. Please don’t worry and go right ahead.”

Razen called for a maidservant to escort the young lady, then turned to look at Ian and Berchel, who were still locked in their struggle. The atmosphere was one where swords might actually be drawn at any moment. Even so, he paid them not the slightest attention, and shifted his gaze to Luciel, lying on the floor.

“I really do not wish to move him.”

He looked down at Luciel with an expression that made his feelings perfectly plain, then — as though resigning himself to the inevitable — reached for the bell on his desk and rang it. He issued instructions for Luciel to be moved to a bed.

Two days after that, Luciel woke up. With a small lump on the back of his head.