"This is..." Celeste hesitated, feeling profoundly uncomfortable. Her position was inherently delicate.
As her sister's heir, she knew she would be sidelined the moment Isolde had a child of her own, forced to step aside and avoid any suspicion. Ultimately, she might even be killed by her future niece.
Yet, without her in this role, Aethelred would be vulnerable. Thus, Celeste always moved with extreme caution, navigating a precarious path.
She dared not form factions, nor could she afford to do nothing. It was an impossible balance to strike.
Now, her sister wanted her to accompany her to see this prisoner. She truly did not want to go.
This was her elder sister's plaything; how could she possibly go near it?
But she couldn't refuse Isolde and could only follow her to the dungeons. The entire way, she kept reminding herself: "See no evil, hear no evil..."
Two armed guards stood at the dungeon entrance. Seeing the Empress and the Duchess arrive, they bowed respectfully.
Isolde ordered them to open the door and, dismissing them, led her sister down the steps alone.
The dungeon was pitch black.
Isolde took out a glowstone and hung it on the wall, instantly illuminating the space.
The palace dungeons were, of course, clean and tidy, devoid of any foul odors. Celeste felt no physical discomfort.
Once her eyes adjusted, she saw a young man in silver robes sitting in a cell, leaning against the wall, lost in silent thought.
The moment her eyes fell upon Sylas, Celeste's heart clenched as if grabbed by an unseen hand.
She felt her heartbeat quicken and her breath grow short. Her cool, small hands began to sweat.
The man was tall and strikingly handsome, but that wasn't what mattered.
Celeste had long grown indifferent to mere appearances; beautiful people were commonplace.
It was his aura of cold, untainted nobility that captivated her, a woman who valued inner qualities above all.
So this is the famed jewel of Lyonesse?
When their nations were at war, Celeste, too, had despised the endlessly cunning Sylas.
But seeing him now, all that resentment evaporated into dust.
An impulse surged within her—a desire to take him back, bathe him properly, and... keep him.
Sister is so wasteful, Celeste thought. To throw such a peerless beauty into a dungeon... it's a crime against nature.
But then, realizing her own impropriety, she quickly checked herself.
Don't be captivated. Don't let your thoughts wander! Stay calm!
She averted her gaze, trying not to look at Sylas.
Isolde had no such reservations. The sight of Sylas made her phoenix eyes instinctively curve with delight.
He was truly a poison; the very sight of him made her happy.
"Well, well?" she said with excited laughter. "What's the matter with our young lord? Why sitting on the cold floor? It's so chilly. Get up."
She impatiently unlocked the cell door, went in, and seeing the knot of hair on his head, immediately reached out to grasp and play with it.
Sylas knew she had come but had little reaction left.
He lifted his eyelids and suddenly noticed a stunningly beautiful young woman standing outside the cell bars. Panic seized him.
What is Isolde doing? Why would she bring someone else?
He had been part of Lyonesse's upper circles; for all their refinement, their games could be utterly depraved.
He, pure and untainted, loathed such disgusting practices and had never participated.
Instantly, his mind flew to those vile possibilities. He waved his hands in fear, but no sound emerged.
His helplessness seemed utterly adorable to Isolde.
She tugged his hair, leaned down, and whispered, "My sister is here to see you. I told her you're utterly infatuated with me, so behave. Or you'll regret it!"
Sylas was bewildered. Your sister is here, so why must I act like I adore you? A horrifying thought struck him. Would Isolde watch the process and midway ask, 'Who do you really like?'
How deranged! Is this how all Aethelredans are?! He looked at her in terror, his eyes full of pleading.
His profound despair baffled Isolde.
What is this? Are you thirsty? Do you want water?
"Oh, oh, sorry," she joked. "I forgot to bring your nectar."
Then she suddenly remembered her sister was behind her. Isolde blushed.
The moment she saw Sylas, her true nature broke free; she always wanted to tease him and bully him to tears.
Letting her sister see this greedy, whimsical side of her was somewhat embarrassing.
She turned her head awkwardly and smiled. "See? Isn't he just playing games? The moment I see him, I just want to hit him."
Celeste hadn't intended to enter, but the strange impulse in her heart made her lift her foot and slowly shuffle inside.
Under the glowstone's light, Sylas's handsome face looked even colder, yet he wore an expression of bitter pleading.
Weren't you the cunning strategist? Didn't you use that pathetic little nation of Lyonesse to trade blows with our great Aethelred? Why are you pleading now?
The contrast of this unattainable flower being reduced to this state was almost too much for Celeste to bear.
She took a deep breath, suppressing the odd feeling in her heart, and said softly, "Sister, he does seem to be playing hard to get."
"Right? Such a little wretch. Ah, he just wants to ruin our great Aethelred," Isolde agreed wholeheartedly.
Singing in harmony, they effectively convicted Sylas on the spot.
"Ungghh..." Sylas felt utterly hopeless. How am I playing hard to get? I desperately want to die! How could this sister also lie through her teeth?
"Hmm, I think he's definitely playing hard to get. Look." Somewhat stubbornly, Isolde used her index finger to pry open Sylas's mouth, checking his teeth like livestock and pinching his tongue.
These actions were meant to prove her ownership. "See? If he hated me, he'd definitely bite me."
Watching her sister be so rough, Celeste felt a twinge of displeasure.
How can you handle such a fine gentleman like this? Shouldn't he be treasured?
She murmured, "Indeed, it seems..."
"Ow!"
Before Celeste could finish, Isolde yanked her finger out.
Sylas had actually bitten her.
"You dare bite me?!" Isolde was instantly enraged.
Didn't I tell you to behave? I just grab your tongue, and you bite me? You've made me lose face in front of my sister!
She raised her hand to strike him.
Celeste hurriedly grabbed her sister's hand. "Alright, alright, Sister! I'm sure it wasn't on purpose. Let me see the wound."
Fuming, her chest heaving, Isolde offered her finger for inspection.
On her jade-like finger was a small set of tooth marks, looking like it might even be bleeding slightly.
"Look! It's bleeding!" she fumed.
Celeste quickly tried to smooth things over. "He must know he was wrong."
Isolde's other hand viciously grabbed Sylas's hair knot. "You made me bleed, understand?!"
Sylas's lips trembled. Unable to speak, he could only shake his head repeatedly.
"Stop the bleeding!" Isolde thrust her injured finger toward him irritably.
Sylas thought that as long as she stopped humiliating him, even a beating would be fine.
He hurriedly took her finger into his mouth to tend to the wound.
"See? He can be quite considerate. Don't be angry, Sister," Celeste advised with a smile.
Isolde's anger subsided somewhat.
She pulled her finger out, patted Sylas's cheek, and said coldly, "Just you wait. You'll pay for this! Hmph!" With that, she led her sister out.
Celeste glanced back at him once before leaving, pursed her lips, and quietly followed.
Sylas let out a long sigh of relief. He felt he had somehow survived a great ordeal.