If You Take the Enemy Prince as Your Knight Chapter 117

“…The other side?” Sasha was just about to ask again, wanting to clarify the ambiguous meaning.

 

“It means there is no reason to hate.”

 

“…”

 

Having neatly concluded the matter with that simple statement, Regen turned his head forward. His gentle hand pushed Sasha’s shoulder, guiding her to walk toward the main palace. Though she began walking almost absentmindedly, Sasha kept staring at him for a long while. But she could not figure out what that sculpted, beautiful, splendid profile was trying to conceal.

 

✦

The stage of the opera house was empty. Even without a performance, candles had been placed throughout the vast interior, maintaining a suitable level of light. At times like this, the private boxes were extremely convenient places for secret trysts. Thanks to the decadent culture of the imperial palace, the box seats were especially enclosed in design, making them all the more so.

 

Emilio, who had arrived first and was seated in a chair, turned his head at the sound of someone approaching. His ash-gray eyes slowly swept over the woman who parted the heavy blackout curtain and stepped gracefully inside. The Princess Silver Bird, Rosasia Trinite Magnarod

 

In contrast to the striking red dress from last time, her attire today displayed an elegant charm. The silver-gray flare-style dress, decorated with beads on the upper portion, gave off a calm impression. Yet there was also pleasure in discovering the seductive details hidden here and there. The feminine curves of her upper body glimpsed between the long, cascading platinum blonde hair were like that, and so were the fair ankles elegantly restrained by the leather straps of her black shoes. The princess was still entirely his type.

 

“Lord Emilio.”

 

Her clear pronunciation in a pleasing vocal range and tone, the graceful gestures like a bird folding its wings, and even the sorrowful yet noble status of someone who would never obtain the imperial throne. All of it was perfectly his type.

 

“Emilio Hwibrik greets Your Highness, Princess Silver Bird.” Pressing his lips to the back of her delicate hand, he grasped it just hard enough to hurt slightly. The sadism within him slipped out unconsciously.

 

When ordinary people discover a type that pierces straight into their hearts and allows no resistance, they usually rejoice at such a meeting. But the man named Emilio Hwibrik was not like that. Having learned dozens of times that the things he liked always went to Regenhart Lohengrin, his way of thinking had become abnormal.

 

Whenever he saw something he liked, Emilio’s first feeling was fear that Regenhart would take it from him. He imagined the sense of loss after Regenhart had stolen it away. And then resentment and hatred toward Regenhart came to mind first. Yet he did not dare hate the prince. The hatred Emilio possessed became twisted, turning not toward Regenhart Lohengrin, but toward the objects of his own desire.

 

So from a certain point onward, whenever Emilio saw something he liked, the first feeling he harbored was hatred for it. It was a conditioned reflex trained into him in the darkest way. This time, the object of his taste happened to be a person, and a woman. So he gave this feeling toward her a name. He called it love-hate.

 

They had met only a few times, and he barely knew her, yet Emilio already had unbearably deep feelings for Rosasia. It was unilateral. And so he believed he absolutely wanted to possess her. No, he believed he had to possess her.

 

Regenhart, right in front of your eyes. Emilio glanced toward the entrance. There stood a knight, suppressing his presence so completely that he looked like a marble statue. Though his hair had gone white, his eyes remained golden, lowered toward the floor. That obedient attitude and powerless appearance put Emilio at ease. Enjoying the situation of sinking into a plush chair while making a royal he once served stand there, he curved his lips crookedly.

 

At that moment, the golden eyes rolled and turned toward Emilio.

 

“…!”

 

The instant their eyes met without warning, an invisible hand tightened around Emilio’s throat. It felt as though a bodiless sword pierced every vital point in his body. Regen withdrew his gaze again and let it drift into empty space. The crushing pressure choking off his breath scattered as if it had been a lie.

 

“Lord Emilio? What’s wrong?”

 

“…It is nothing.”

 

For a brief moment, Emilio felt as though he had died more than a dozen times. Though cold sweat ran down him, he somehow managed to appear normal in front of the princess.

 

He and the princess sat facing each other in chairs turned inward. It was Emilio who opened the topic. “I waited, yet no word came from Your Highness, so I requested this meeting first.”

 

“I assume you have heard the news of the competition as well.”

 

“It is my duty to ensure this competition becomes the last one for Your Highness.”

 

“Yes. I am greatly looking forward to the day you take me to Lohengrin.”

 

The gently curving shape of her eyes was seductive. Emilio was certain the princess fully understood what it meant to ‘go to Lohengrin.’ After all, she was already half his. Feeling satisfied, Emilio felt the urge to observe Regen’s reaction, but recalling the sensation of his body turning into a beehive moments ago, he refrained.

 

Interlocking his fingers, Emilio spoke. “The rules of the imperial succession competition announced today were quite interesting. I sent my people to investigate Marquis Osbond’s side. How much does Your Highness know about the reward for the ‘Knight Wheel Battle’?”

 

“That the position of the princess’s personal knight is unexpectedly fiercely contested.”

 

“So you know the reward if the imperial knight wins. Then do you know the reward if the personal knight wins all ten rounds?”

 

“…”

 

“Oh dear, so you didn’t know after all.”

 

The look in Emilio’s eyes, flaunting his superior information, became somewhat arrogant. Showing off his superiority in front of a woman he was interested in, it was hardly attractive behavior.

 

Like the mad emperor himself. The harsher Sasha cursed him inwardly, the more beautiful her outward expression became, as if to disguise it. She lowered her platinum lashes sorrowfully. “I am made keenly aware of how little power I have. As expected, I desperately need Lord Emilio’s help.”

 

“To be desperately wanted by Your Highness is my pleasure.”

 

“So then, what is the reward if the personal knight wins all rounds of the wheel battle?”

 

Urged on by a voice sweet enough to be cunning, Emilio gave up the information without any sign of displeasure. “If he wins all ten rounds, he may make a wish to the emperor.”

 

“…A wish?”

 

“Yes. A wish.”

 

“That is quite a shocking reward.”

 

On the day of the competition, the martial arena would be filled to capacity with countless subjects. If so, even if the wish were somewhat unreasonable or offensive, the mad emperor would likely grant it. Sasha could easily guess why the mad emperor had prepared such a reward despite the inconvenience. Because it will be entertaining.

 

A wish is the symbol of desperation. It was an excellent element to heighten the amusement of the mad emperor, whose hobby was observing human nature.

 

“Your Highness’s knight, Sir Regen—”

 

A name too precious to be placed upon a traitor’s tongue scratched at Sasha’s nerves and seized her attention.

 

Watching Sasha’s eyes as she waited for what came next, Emilio declared. “He will win.”

 

“…”

 

“He will certainly win. Ten times, or even a hundred times.”

 

“…”

 

Regen, who had been standing silently, turned his head toward Emilio. At the same time, Emilio glanced sideways at him. The gazes of the two men connected bleakly.

 

“Unless he deliberately loses.”

 

“…”

 

“Is that not so?”

 

“…”

 

Though Regen showed no emotion, the confrontation that felt as though it crushed the throat continued. In the dim private box, enough killing intent for two men drifted in the air.

 

Sasha intercepted the question and answered instead. “I am pleased that you think so highly of my knight.”

 

“I merely told Your Highness the truth.”

 

“Very well. Then, if Sir Regen gains the right to make a wish, what would you want done with it?”

 

“Your Highness should have that right transferred to you.”

 

“Well now. Can such a thing be transferred? His Majesty’s permission would be required.”

 

“It will be possible. I will make arrangements so that His Majesty permits a single exception.”

 

Sasha stared steadily at the man overflowing with confidence.

 

“I imagine Your Highness has already guessed the method.”

 

Of course she had. The place was a martial arena capable of holding tens of thousands of spectators. If public opinion were stirred using the crowd, most people would be swept up by the atmosphere. And in truth, even if not, the mad emperor would permit it. Because it would be interesting.

 

“Very well. Let’s say we even succeed in transferring the right to make a wish. And then?”

 

“And then—” Smiling brightly, Emilio made his request. “Please propose marriage to me.”