– Aerith's POV –
I staggered down the long corridor, my knees weak as though all strength had drained from them. My hand, without thought, covered my lips that still burned, hot and sore. My face was flushed, my expression tangled, restless.
I could not even recall clearly how I had managed to leave the King's chamber. Vaguely, I remembered Tobias's hurried steps, his brief guidance, and then the heavy door closing behind me. After that, all that remained was the memory of my burning cheek struck by the cold night air.
"His Majesty the King was furious with me…" my heart quivered. The sharp glare of King Lucien still burned in my mind. There had been no gentleness there, only anger. Yet somehow, alongside it, something else flickered within his eyes that I struggled to name. It was as if… as if beyond his anger, he had also been aroused?
I shook my head violently, refusing to believe my own thoughts. Impossible. King Lucien could not be aroused, especially not by me. The truth was simple: he had been angry. Angry at me. But… what exactly had provoked such wrath that he punished me so?
Was it because he disliked how I trembled in fear whenever I looked upon his face? Or did he think I was feigning innocence?
My head felt heavy, my thoughts muddled. My body still trembled, cold mingling with dread. I quickened my pace, desperate to reach my chamber.
The moment I arrived, I threw myself upon the bed. I pulled the palace's worn blanket over my head, but still my body shook. Each time I closed my eyes, his face returned. Those piercing eyes. That cold voice. And the searing kiss that shattered all my defenses.
"Why… why could my body not resist? I… I am utterly useless."
Tears slipped down without sound, my fear mounting that next time his punishment would be even harsher. I buried my face in the pillow, stifling the sob that threatened to break free.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
I jolted. My body stiffened, my heart leaping wildly once more. With a trembling voice I asked, "W-who is it…?"
The door opened. Lady Gwenevere entered with graceful steps. As always, a faint smile adorned her composed face, though her eyes instantly took in my curled figure on the bed.
"What a pity… it seems Lady Moonstone cannot sleep tonight," she said softly. Her voice was warm, though beneath it I sensed something I could not quite grasp.
I hurried to sit up, quickly wiping my tears. "Madam Gwen… I… His Majesty punished me… I…"
"It is all right." Madam Gwenevere drew closer and sat at the edge of the bed. Her hand extended, patting my back gently. "I know how heavy this night must be for you."
My head bowed, my fingers clutching the blanket's edge. "His Majesty… he… I truly made him angry."
Her smile curved subtly wider. She seemed to know precisely what had happened, though I had not said it aloud. From my smeared lips, my slightly swollen mouth, and my tangled hair, she must have guessed what kind of punishment I had just received.
"His Majesty was angry?" Lady Gwenevere whispered as though teasing. "Or perhaps… was he utterly captivated by you?"
My face burned scarlet. I shook my head violently. "No, no! That is not it. His Majesty was angry and offended, and then he… punished me. Because I… because I angered him… I do not know." My voice cracked, my eyes filling again.
Gwenevere's hand stroked my hair gently, like a mother soothing her child. "Oh, Aerith… you are far too naive. Do you not realize? His Majesty summoned you to his chamber at night! And look at yourself… your lips are ruined, yet your back bears no bruises, your head remains upon your shoulders. That means…" Her finger pointed at my lips. "You two, kissed! Strike my butt if my guess is wrong."
I froze. Her words pierced through me, leaving my chest heavy with shame, fear, and confusion all tangled together. "But… it did not feel like a lover's kiss… Madam Gwen… His Majesty despises me…"
Gwenevere only gave a faint smile, then leaned closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "From tomorrow on… do everything I ask. If you wish to keep your head, follow my words. Do you understand?"
I looked at her briefly, then nodded faintly. "Yes… Lady Gwen."
Madam Gwenevere's smile deepened, this time more tangible, though still cloaked in elegance. "Good. Trust me. I will keep you safe. You say His Majesty hates you, do you not? Then leave everything to me. I will make sure your head remains upon your shoulders."
She rose, smoothing her long gown, and glided toward the door. Before it closed, she glanced back at me once more. Her gaze gleamed with satisfaction, like a chess player who had just placed her piece in the perfect position.
***
– Author's POV –
Elsewhere in the palace, in his private study, Lucien stood near the tall window. The night was still dark, a half-moon hanging in the sky. A glass of red wine sat cold and untouched upon the table.
His hand lifted to his lips once more, his brows furrowing. "What have I done just now?"
Aerith's face flashed before him: that pure fear, her trembling, her innocence that seemed too real. She was unlike any woman he had ever met.
Lucien exhaled sharply, finally seizing the wine and swallowing deep. "Foolish. Just a small girl from a small nation… and yet why am I…"
The words broke off. His eyes hardened. "No. I must not allow her to linger in my mind."
Yet the more he resisted, the stronger the image clung. That night, even the cold and unyielding King… for the very first time… lost his sleep.