Hearing her twist words so forcefully, Sylas could no longer contain the bitterness in his heart.
He didn't even have the right to love someone else.
He glared at Mirabel, trying his best to suppress his anger. "Can you please stop tormenting me?
The Chancellor has returned. You should be acting like an emperor now, doing what you're supposed to do!"
Mirabel: "Auntie Gwendolyn is injured. I need to stay at the Chancellor's Manor to care for her."
"Is this caring for her? You're here to have me care for you!
You made vows, talked about attending to her personally.
What have you actually done?
You just stood at the door and watched."
Sylas finally couldn't help but tear down Mirabel's facade.
This girl might be kind by nature and likely truly respected Gwendolyn.
But when faced with difficulty, she truly lacked the courage to overcome it.
Her execution was practically zero.
"I..." Mirabel was stunned.
She stared fixedly at Sylas, her eyes gradually turning red.
It was clear her emotions were highly volatile.
After all, Sylas's words had hit the nail on the head, directly exposing her hypocrisy.
"Let go of me. I need to cook." Sylas had no mood to coax her now.
He was unhappy himself; where would he find the energy to manage the sovereign?
If I manage you, who manages me?
He broke free from Mirabel's arms and continued making breakfast sullenly.
Mirabel stood beside him, so angry she clenched her small fists.
She was too young, hadn't experienced much setback, and didn't really understand consideration for others.
Seeing Sylas being uncooperative, she was naturally filled with hatred.
She was like a child who had obtained a much-loved but disobedient pet and had instantly lost patience.
She went straight to the point, saying coldly, "Sylas, I order you now to take off your clothes."
"I'm cooking!"
"Fine. Then I'll go find Auntie Gwendolyn right now and tell her about us."
If you won't listen to me, I'll just ruin you.
She crossed her arms, turned angrily, and made to leave.
Sylas froze for an instant, then hurried forward to stop her.
"Your Majesty... Your Majesty..."
Mirabel stood at the door, pouting, turning her head to look at the wall, ignoring him.
Sylas grabbed her upper arm, his heart filled with desolation.
I'm already having such a hard time, and this girl keeps threatening me in every way.
He pleaded softly, "Your Majesty, the Chancellor is in that state now. Please don't upset her further, alright?"
"How is that upsetting her? What makes you think Auntie Gwendolyn would care about you?
Let's test it.
Maybe Auntie Gwendolyn will let me take you back to the palace." Mirabel said carelessly.
Sylas lowered his head and said nothing.
Mirabel's words were truly hurtful, and unfortunately somewhat believable.
Gwendolyn doted on Mirabel so much; she would give her anything she wanted.
The reason Sylas didn't want her to confess was actually to protect the pitiful illusion in his heart.
He murmured, "Let's do something else. Please, no."
"No? Then take them off. You need to be punished now." Mirabel said arrogantly.
Sylas hung his head.
He could only slowly undo his clothes.
The kitchen was chilly. He shivered from the cold.
Mirabel hardened her heart and watched him leisurely.
She suddenly reached out, rubbed Sylas's cheek, and said softly, "Don't like Auntie Gwendolyn. Hear me?"
Sylas had been humbled to the dust. Resigned, he said, "I hear you. I won't..."
"From now on, you are not to satirize or mock me. That's not your job.
You must often praise me, compliment me!"
"Alright."
"You must do whatever I tell you to do. No resistance!"
"...Alright."
"Hmph."
Mirabel snorted with satisfaction. She put her hands on her hips and smiled triumphantly.
"Kneel down."
"..."
"I don't want to say it a second time."
Sylas slowly knelt down. He had no dignity left to speak of, so groveling didn't matter anymore.
"You even slapped me before. Tell me, how are we going to settle that debt?"
He pressed his head to the floor, saying lifelessly, "I am guilty. I beg Your Majesty's forgiveness."
"Forgiveness... isn't impossible. After all, you did it for Stonewold.
But you can't hit me! If you don't want me to speak, you can kiss me, right?" Mirabel crouched down, stroking the back of his head as she smiled.
"..."
"Did you hear me? You need to learn to kiss me proactively!" Seeing his silence, Mirabel grew angry again.
She always felt she couldn't control Sylas properly.
"I heard."
"Fine. Get dressed. I'm going back to the palace to get some good things for you."
Mirabel thought about it and decided to return to the palace to ask the matrons who managed the harem in previous generations how to make a man obedient.
By the time Sylas finished dressing, Mirabel had already vanished from the kitchen.
He looked around the kitchen blankly, feeling strange.
She just left?
He couldn't help but feel a sliver of relief.
Thank goodness it didn't go further.
But thinking this, he felt an inexplicable sadness.
Had he really been conditioned to this point?
Was he now satisfied simply for not being violated further?
He got up and started cooking.
Soon, he had prepared breakfast for Gwendolyn.
Returning to the bedroom, he suddenly realized they were the only two left.
If Mirabel were here, they could maintain their unspoken understanding without needing to talk.
Now, with no one else around, he and Gwendolyn could only communicate awkwardly.
"Where is Her Majesty?" Gwendolyn, feeling somewhat uncomfortable, asked softly.
"She returned to the palace. Probably to fetch some things." Sylas placed the food on the table and moved to help Gwendolyn sit up.
He still didn't dare look at her.
Gwendolyn also kept her head down, silent.
When his hands touched Gwendolyn's shoulders, her body trembled involuntarily.
He murmured, "My Lady, time to eat."
"Lord Byron, perhaps let the maids..." Gwendolyn said with difficulty.
"The maids..." Sylas suddenly let out a bitter laugh. "My Lady, in your eyes, am I even inferior to a maid? Is that it?"
He finally broke down. He leaned forward, close to Gwendolyn, and said agitatedly, "Do you disdain me that much?"
"I don't... I don't disdain you..." Gwendolyn denied, flustered.
Sylas just stared fixedly at her.
In the end, neither of them uttered the words that would break the boundary.
Being overly reserved was like this.
"I want to go back. I think... it's the same there." Sylas slowly helped her sit up on the edge of the bed and said dejectedly.
"Go back? Back to Aethelred?" Gwendolyn panicked. She wanted to grab Sylas, but her fingers had no strength.
She said nervously, "Didn't you say Isolde bullies you every day? If you go back like this..."
Suddenly, Gwendolyn thought of something. Her face flushed crimson. "Don't be so discouraged. I...
I know your feelings.
But, as you can see, I'm just a cripple now.
If you... want to do something, just... go ahead."
She felt Sylas might be... longing for a woman.
Back in Lyonesse, he had been... passed between the Empress and Marshal Victoria.
This young master was perfect in every way, except he was a bit... lustful.
Such situations weren't unheard of.
Like the men in the pleasure houses, most were like that.
So if he... if he was truly interested in her, it wasn't... impossible.