His mouth agape, his voice trembled with anger.
Sylas said furiously, "What? What am I like you say? What have I done?
In Aethelred...
I was a prisoner of war, what could I do?
It was just that at the moment the city fell, I hesitated before committing suicide, and then they put those damned Servant's Chain on me.
That... ah..." Seeing himself on the verge of a breakdown, he quickly shut up.
What was the use of saying these things?
Those who understood would understand.
Someone as ignorant and inexperienced as Mirabel would never comprehend.
Sure enough, as if deliberately provoking him, Mirabel used sarcasm to shut him up.
"You're not wearing manacles now. Why don't you go kill yourself?"
"I..."
Sylas was instantly rendered speechless.
He didn't want to die now. The war was developing according to his expectations.
As long as Stonewold had the power to rival Aethelred, he might be able to stand up to Isolde.
But now he realized, even if he could resist, so what?
It was just switching to a different Lady Sovereign, a different person to bully him.
Thinking this, he felt utterly hopeless.
He suddenly stood up, looked at the hard corner of the desk, and raised his leg as if to smash into it.
Mirabel quickly wrapped her arms around his waist, laughing apologetically: "Whoa there, why so impatient?
I was joking! I was wrong, I admit it."
"Let go!" Sylas looked at her coldly.
Mirabel wouldn't let go. She started pestering him again, "Don't kill yourself! I haven't done anything.
If people killed themselves over a few words, too many would be dead! Sit down, sit down."
Holding onto Sylas's waist, she sat back down in the chair.
Sylas was taller than her. In this position, Mirabel felt like she was holding a long, beautiful piece of jade.
Sylas also realized the inappropriateness. He struggled to get up, saying, "Let me go! This is utterly improper! Let go!"
"No, I'm afraid you'll try to kill yourself." Mirabel felt her heart was about to leap out of her throat.
She was so excited she could barely speak.
Just moments ago it was holding hands, now he was sitting in her lap.
Hehe, wonderful.
"Let go..."
Mirabel: "Go ahead and shout. The door's open anyway. At most, the passing maids will hear.
Let them see the usually aloof and noble Lord Byron, who supervises them so strictly, now sitting in the Empress's lap acting coy."
Sylas flushed crimson, "I am not acting coy!"
"You are!"
"..."
He disliked arguing.
Since childhood, he couldn't stand arguing with someone unreasonable like Crystal.
Such behavior, in his view, was a sign of an underdeveloped brain.
Now, he had met an upgraded version of Crystal.
Suppressing his indignation and shame, he said softly, "Your Majesty, can you let me go? I won't kill myself. It doesn't look good for us to be embracing like this."
Mirabel: "I'm afraid you'll bite your tongue off."
"I won't..."
Though Mirabel seemed delicate, she was surprisingly strong. With a bit of effort, she pulled Sylas sideways onto her lap.
She held his shoulder with one hand to prevent him from moving and leaned in, "Let me check. Don't bite your tongue."
Sylas didn't dare make too much of a scene, and he couldn't break free.
Seeing Mirabel like this, he instantly guessed her intention.
She was going to force a kiss!
These women always found strange excuses to force kisses on him.
Bad memories were stirred.The contents were rather brutal.
Afraid of being fitted with some strange magical device again, he didn't dare threaten suicide anymore.
It was useless.
Whether it was Isolde or Mirabel.
His usual methods only led to him being punished more severely.
So, he skipped those steps and began pleading nervously.
"Your Majesty, please don't do this, alright? I won't force you to study anymore. I'll handle all your memorials for you. You can rest, relax.
Please don't do this..."
Mirabel's heartbeat accelerated even more.
Truth be told, she had been flattered all her life but rarely wielded real power.
Power was about making people obey her, fear her.
The people around her were almost all arranged by Auntie.
They were like a hard protective shell, keeping her from harm.
But they also restrained her, guiding her towards becoming a wise ruler.
Mirabel was cooperative and understood Gwendolyn's good intentions.
But she wanted to breathe.
And Sylas was the weakest link in that shell.
See? Even without real power, even without a decent plan, she could still make him beg.
Where was that aloofness from before?
Fake!
"Just one kiss! One!" Mirabel laid her cards on the table. She didn't have Isolde's controlling prowess, but this recklessness was enough to deal with Sylas.
"No, Your Majesty, your body is priceless. I... I am truly unclean.
And I swore to the Chancellor I would never seduce you!" Sylas explained, on the verge of tears.
He didn't want to face this situation every time he went somewhere new.
He'd rather retreat to the mountains and forests.
"Oh, you swore an oath? Even better." Mirabel's face lit up with a smile.
That was even more leverage for blackmail.
She slowly released Sylas's shoulder, letting him stand up.
Mirabel turned and closed the door, then pointed to the small bed in the inner room.
"Go. Or I'll tell on you."
"No, no..."
"Hurry up!" Mirabel pushed him.
Sylas looked helplessly at the door, realizing he couldn't escape.
And he couldn't call for help.
He stood motionless in the outer room, bowing and pleading bitterly: "This isn't right. The Chancellor is fighting at the front, and we're here like this..."
"Wasn't this your doing? Hurry up, stop wasting words."
Mirabel discovered that the more unreasonable she was, the more helpless Sylas became.
Don't reason with Sylas.
Just take by force!
Seeing Sylas wouldn't move, she proactively stood up and pulled him towards the inner room.
A girl has to be assertive!
From now on, she had someone she could bully too.
Happy!
At her young, naive age, meeting a man who radiated such a 'taken' vibe was truly a fortunate thing.
To prevent Sylas from harming himself, she wanted to follow the example and put Servant's Chain on him.
But Sylas swore he wouldn't seek death anymore; please don't make him wear those things.
He was simply full of sorrow, but had given up on dying.
In bed, he was physically and mentally exhausted, but he had to cater to the young girl's robbery.
The girl exercises excitedly, sweating on him.
In the end, both of them are tired.
"Will you study properly now?" Sylas asked, his hair disheveled, looking quite disheveled and wretched.
"..." Mirabel was hesitant. She found his beauty quite enjoyable, but adding studying into the mix made it rather boring.
She hugged Sylas's arm and pleaded: "No studying, okay? Let's just seek pleasure from now on."
"You want to be a tyrant?"
Mirabel joked: "Isn't this your bewitchment?"
Sylas finally broke down: "You can't push all the responsibility onto me! Can't you just try hard?"
Mirabel was immensely pleased with herself: "I could... but you have to persuade me diligently, serve me well. Otherwise, I won't do anything. Hmph."
Sylas fell silent.
He had ultimately been defeated.