PMBA | Chapter 6

An awkward silence hung in the air. Only after the Duke casually mentioned the deceased royals did people begin to force out laughter.

A few people tried to lighten the mood.

“That’s right. They say if you miss your prey three times, you must let it go.”

There was an unwritten rule in the Empire that prey spared three times should be granted its life.

Amidst the nervous laughter, the Emperor, who had been silent until now, twisted his lips into a smile.

“Indeed. Shot three times and survived three times. Your words have merit.”

“How magnanimous of you, Your Majesty.”

“However, prey should know its place.”

Flutter!

As the sound of flapping wings echoed, the Emperor continued, looking directly at Dominique.

“We can always clip its wings.”

A chill settled over the air once more. Before the Emperor could add anything further, Dominique nodded and replied,

“I shall do it.”

Dominique approached the cage. The bird’s eyes, looking up at him, were strangely clear.

The small bird, trapped in the cage, was caught in the Duke’s grasp. Its soft chirps filled the air.

Then, holding the fluttering bird down, Dominique brought the scissors offered by an attendant towards its wings. Watching him, the Emperor remarked,

“How remarkably delicate, Duke.”

“You flatter me.”

“With such delicate hands, shouldn’t you be holding a woman by now?”

“I’m not sure I follow, Your Majesty.”

“You’re of age, Duke. Isn’t it time you consider marriage?”

At those words, the corners of Dominique’s lips curled upwards. Someone let out a gasp again.

Snip.

The sound of the bird’s wing feathers being cut rang out clearly.

* * *

“Persistent old man.”

Dominique, having made an appearance at the ensuing banquet and pretended to listen to other people’s chatter, stepped outside and welcomed the cool night air as he walked.

Some of the bird’s shimmering silver feathers still clung to his hand.

Instead of brushing them off, Dominique picked one up and stared at it intently. Then, he crushed it in his fist. His lips remained twisted in a sardonic smile.

“Marriage, he says, now of all times.”

He knew exactly why the Emperor, who had been preventing his marriage for so long, even past the appropriate age, was now saying such things.

Perhaps he had already chosen a bride. To suppress him once more.

And to place a spy by his side.

“How annoying.”

He was so close now. Almost all of his preparations were complete.

Being hindered like this at this stage was troublesome, but the problem was that he had no grounds to refuse.

‘If only I could make the first move.’

But there was no suitable young lady.

A woman with a poor enough reputation to appease the Emperor, yet intelligent enough to handle herself discreetly without reporting his every move.

A woman who would also, if necessary, shoulder the burden of disgrace for him.

Whoosh.

A sudden gust of wind ruffled his hair. The faint scent of gunpowder carried by the wind was likely residue from the celebratory fireworks, or perhaps from the shooting display in the banquet hall.

Neither mattered.

‘Or does it?’

At least it confirmed that the Emperor was still wary of him.

‘I guess I’ll have to wait a little longer.’

Just a little while longer.

With that thought, his footsteps headed not towards his townhouse in the capital, but towards the Crown Prince’s Palace. Before he left, Lexion subtly approached him and whispered.

‘Let’s have a chat, cousin.’

He probably wanted to ask what that whole display had been about. To question why Dominique had been so disrespectful to his father.

Dominique could appease him this time as well.

‘Though, I doubt we’ll actually be able to have a proper conversation.’

When he left, Lexion was already succumbing to intoxication, accepting every drink the nobles offered to him. He would likely be in no state to talk by the time he returned to the palace.

Just as he stepped into the entrance of the Crown Prince’s Palace…

“…”

Dominique raised an eyebrow, surveying the place.

The air felt subtly different. A different kind of strangeness than before.

With most of the staff attending the banquet and only a few servants remaining, the palace was quiet as if not even a mouse dared to stir.

Creak.

Opening the door to the attendants’ waiting room, Dominique saw an attendant slumped over asleep. Snore. At the sound of the blatant snoring, Dominique looked into the glass in front of the attendant and a smile touched his lips.

‘Such a move at a time like this.’

Now this was interesting. 

His footsteps became lighter, almost buoyant, as he headed towards the Crown Prince’s bedroom.

Carrying unauthorized weapons within the palace was forbidden, but that was never a problem for Dominique.

His body itself was the most formidable weapon.

Creak.

The bedroom door opened almost without making a sound. The white curtains fluttered in the breeze coming through a slightly open window.

And something else swayed gently along with the curtains. A thin canopy draped over the large, ornate bed.

After spotting a small figure sitting inside, Dominique, without any hesitation, reached out with a swift movement.

Grab!

Soon, his hand closed around something. Something slender, slightly cool…

Something soft and fluffy.

Instinctively, his hand seized the person’s pressure point and pulled them towards him. He bound their slender wrists with his own hand and wrapped his other arm tightly around their neck, as if to strangle them.

Like a giant serpent coiling around its prey.

He felt a delicate, slender neck against the inside of his hard elbow.

“Ugh.”

A small gasp escaped. A back with prominent shoulder blades, fluttering like a trapped bird’s, pressed against his broad chest. A frame so thin it was almost alarming.

“Who are you?”

Dominique whispered. He could feel the distinct movement of the person’s throat as he tightened his grip just enough to allow them to speak. He contemplated whether to snap this neck right here or make use of its owner somehow.

“And who might you be?”

A calm voice replied, unfazed by the situation.

‘A woman.’

The voice belonged to a woman.

Realizing this, Dominique looked down at the woman he held captive through a large full-length mirror standing in the corner of the room.

The clouds that had gathered just then cleverly obscured the moonlight, casting the light at an angle that made it impossible to see the woman’s face. Thanks to this, only the woman’s body was reflected in the mirror. It was a body that glowed white under the moonlight.

The thin, fluttering nightgown she wore was almost pointless, revealing the silhouette of her figure beneath. Wherever the woman’s skin touched, the white fabric appeared tinged with pink.

The low neckline of the nightgown made her pale cleavage accentuated under the moonlight, and it looked as though she had ground up face powder or crushed pearl and dusted herself with it.

Her plump, well-shaped breasts and her slender waist. Her pale, smooth legs were visible beneath the thin fabric.

It was almost ethereal.

‘Is she Lexion’s woman?’

Dominique recalled the woman he had seen during the day. The woman with the strong citrus scent.

But the woman now trapped in his arms smelled of something akin to mint. A faint fragrance that seemed as if it would scatter and disappear at any moment. The scent of gunpowder mixed with it probably emanated from him.

‘It’s not her.’

Dominique remained silent, standing still.  The woman also didn’t speak, simply taking deep, steadying breaths.

“…”

Every time the woman inhaled and exhaled, the sensation of her rising and falling breasts and delicate curve of her collarbone touched his elbow. It was a strangely warm feeling.

Then, the clouds obscuring the moon parted.

The world, previously divided into black and white, was suddenly bathed in a pale, luminous light in all directions.

Clear blue eyes met his gaze in the mirror. Shining silver hair cascaded down from between Dominique’s elbows. The hair resembled decorative strings woven from silver thread.

The image of the silver bird feathers clinging to his hand flashed through Dominique’s mind.

As the image faded and the woman’s face came into view, Dominique unconsciously opened his mouth.

“Mad Dog?”

* * *

The scent of plane trees drifted in from somewhere through the open window. It mingled with the lingering smell of gunpowder clinging to him, transforming into something unique and intense.

‘Ha.’

Kyrie exhaled slowly, savoring the scent. Her twisted arm throbbed dully.

‘Lexion didn’t come.’

The moment she was grabbed by the person who entered the bedroom, she keenly realized that it wasn’t the Crown Prince.

The Lexion she knew wasn’t capable of such a swift reaction. He would have called for the guards the moment he entered the room.

‘I thought he would be too drunk to do that today.’

That was precisely why Kyrie had dared to make her move.

She planned to ambush Lexion when he returned to his chambers, drunk from the victory banquet, and secure her marriage to the Crown Prince by selling her cheap virginity.

She had intended to make a spectacle of herself in bed with him, so that Lexion wouldn’t be able to make excuses or deny it.

She knew that the Emperor and the nobles who assisted him made a point of visiting the Crown Prince’s Palace for tea every morning. She also knew that Lexion, hating to be seen by others disheveled, specifically dismissed his guards when he was drunk.

But the man who entered was unexpected.