PLQYM | Chapter 51

“Why on earth are you trying to please her?”

Heraith asked in a voice brimming with irritation.

So, that’s why he had been keeping his mouth shut for a while.

It seemed he had been holding back because the princess had done him a favor. Now that she was gone, he immediately let his complaints spill out.

“She’s our guest,” Lucian replied.

“Guest? That woman who came for negotiations and ate us out of house and home is a guest?”

“Well, wasn’t that because of our side’s circumstances? I’m actually surprised she helped us so willingly.”

“……”

Heraith pressed his lips together tightly, saying nothing, though it was clear he had a lot to say.

“What exactly do you find so displeasing about her?”

“Everything.”

“Still, things turned out fine, didn’t they?”

“Hah!”

Heraith scoffed and dropped heavily onto the bed next to Lucian. The bed dipped under the unusual force of his movements.

Why is he so on edge? Lucian couldn’t make sense of the Emperor’s mood.

Everything had gone smoothly, hadn’t it? Except for the fact that his vacation was now completely ruined.

‘Oh, is this because of that injury?’

Ah, seriously.

Lucian sighed inwardly. He was the one who’d been hurt, but it was always up to him to soothe his temperamental superior.

“Your Majesty,” Lucian began cautiously.

“What?”

Heraith’s curt reply made Lucian chuckle dryly. But even that seemed to rub Heraith the wrong way.

“Hah, you’re laughing? Do you think this is funny?”

“I apologize.”

“For what?”

“For getting injured.”

“……”

That seemed to hit the mark. Heraith’s lips clamped shut again. Though his expression remained displeased, his face softened just a little as he finally responded.

“At least you’re aware. Do you think I went through all this chaos just to see you hurt? Alright, then what else?”

“…What else?”

“……”

The Emperor’s expression twisted further.

‘Ah, seriously.’

Lucian was truly at a loss.

I’m the one who got hurt—why is he acting like this?

Heraith’s face, which had started to relax, was once again tightening into a scowl. Lucian wondered if he had said something wrong, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what.

Of course, he was grateful the Emperor was concerned for his injuries, but this had reached the point of absurdity. Lucian’s own irritation began to simmer.

“You can’t just refuse to tell me what’s wrong and expect me to guess, Your Majesty.”

Even Lucian’s voice was beginning to sharpen.

Sure, he prided himself on understanding the Emperor’s moods better than anyone else.

But there was a limit to everything.

This behavior—demanding that Lucian decipher his feelings without a word—was like telling a magician to summon ghosts with a wave of their wand.

“I don’t like it.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t like anything you do.”

“……!”

That was the last straw. Lucian exploded.

“Do I truly bother you that much?”

“What?”

“If you dislike something, tell me clearly so I can fix it! What is this? You’re acting like a child.”

Heraith let out a breathless laugh at Lucian’s fiery outburst.

This brat, not understanding me at all.

“Do you really not know?”

“No, I don’t. I’m not Your Majesty. How could I possibly know everything you’re thinking?”

“Ah, of course. You don’t know, which is why you go around showing that stupid smiling face to other men, isn’t it?”

“What?”

Heraith leaned in close, his hazel eyes locking onto Lucian’s wide, startled ones.

The Emperor’s sharp gaze reflected Lucian’s face—a youthful face twisted with frustration, biting his lips, glaring back with furrowed brows.

But Lucian didn’t have time to dwell on that thought.

“……!”

Heraith’s lips crashed onto his.

It wasn’t soft.

The Emperor’s tongue pushed its way into Lucian’s mouth, claiming him fiercely.

There was no gentleness, only raw hunger. His tongue explored every inch, leaving no space untouched.

Lucian’s breath hitched, his body instinctively recoiling, but Heraith’s large hand grabbed the back of his head, pulling him closer. Their lips reconnected deeply.

This wasn’t a kiss—it was an attack, wild and unrelenting. It felt more like a desperate act than anything else, as though Heraith wanted to consume him completely.

Lucian’s mind blanked when his back hit the bed.

The gravity of the situation struck him all at once.

If this continued, the Emperor might…

I have to escape!

That thought filled his mind as the taste of blood spread in his mouth. The ferocity of the kiss abruptly stopped.

Heraith pulled back, touching his lips to find blood staining his fingers.

A twisted smile spread across his face, his hazel eyes gleaming dangerously.

“You laugh and joke with other men, but you fight me like this?”

“What… what are you even talking about?” Lucian stammered, his voice trembling.

“The one who helped you was me. And yet, instead of gratitude, this is how you repay me.”

“I don’t understand—what are you saying?”

“Still playing dumb? Go ahead, keep pretending you don’t know.”

“Your Majesty!”

Lucian’s desperate cry echoed through the room. Heraith’s darkened hazel eyes bore into him, leaving him frozen.

What should he do? How could he get out of this?

No answers came.

What is he even talking about?

Lucian’s thoughts whirled, trying to make sense of the Emperor’s cryptic words.

— Just say you remember everything.

The words of Cliff, the aged head attendant, suddenly resurfaced in his memory.

— He’ll dig his own grave. It’s a magical phrase, trust me.

The memory was two years old, but it felt as vivid as if it had happened yesterday.

Lucian clung to those words and blurted them out.

“I remember! I remember everything!”

To his surprise, Heraith froze.

For a fleeting moment, his hazel eyes wavered, and he stopped moving entirely.

Lucian exhaled sharply, hoping he had bought himself time.

As Heraith stepped back, the tension remained, his face a storm of emotions—desire, frustration, and something darker.

Lucian could only think of one thing: I have to get away.