If You Take the Enemy Prince as Your Knight Chapter 90

“…”

 

Heat rushed to my face, and I fanned myself with my hand. If it were just my imagination, I’d be the only one left terribly embarrassed, so it would be better to stop thinking about it.

 

Just then, large leaves drifted down one by one in front of me. It was the oak tree, densely covering the sky like a green dome, shedding its leaves. The softest new leaves piled up thickly in a straight path from the tips of my bare feet all the way to where the oak’s massive trunk stood. It was no different from a green carpet being spread over the dirt ground. No matter how I looked at it, it seemed like the consideration was meant to keep my bare feet from getting hurt.

 

“Using new leaves for something like this is a bit…”

 

Something lightly tapped my head. A thick, broad leaf had fallen right onto the crown of my head. It seemed to be an expression of displeasure at my perfectly reasonable criticism.

 

“It’s nothing. Thank you.”

 

When I changed what I said, the leaves rustled softly as they brushed against one another in the breeze. It was a sound that calmed the mind.

 

It was strange. Clearly, Regen should have been unconscious while I was in his mental realm, and yet the oak tree that embodied his mana core felt as though it possessed a personality of its own.

 

Stepping on the carpet the oak tree had laid out, I arrived in front of the trunk. Even at a glance, it looked bigger than before. I walked around it, counting my steps.

 

“It’s definitely grown.”

 

It was a good thing, but I felt embarrassed. After all, wasn’t this thanks to how diligently I’d been devouring Regen’s lips? What had become nourishment for the oak tree was none other than my desire.

 

“And even after eating something like that, you’ve grown so green and splendid.”

 

I ran my hand along the vertically fissured bark. It was hard and rough, but I stroked it gently with my fingertips, as though touching him.

 

“Ah.” Startled, I pulled my hand back.

 

From the spot I’d touched, pale green branches were sprouting rapidly. They grew at breakneck speed, darkening in color as they shot out, bursting forth with leaves, and before long, they were covered all over with knobby buds.

 

“Flowers…?”

 

The moment I lifted my head to look up, my mouth fell slightly open. Amazingly, the entire tree was hung with pale green male flowers.

 

I clutched at my chest for a moment, groaning softly. This pain explained the current situation more clearly than anything else. As Regen’s mana core had grown explosively, my domination had clearly gone into a temporary overload as well.

 

“Haah…”

 

Suddenly, I had a suspicion about what might have caused his growth. Probably today… because I liked it too much… The more intense our physical affection, the faster the growth. I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or troubled by that.

 

Before I knew it, I’d spoken in a slightly complaining tone. “At this rate, Regen might be the only knight I ever have for the rest of my life.”

 

The oak tree answered with the sound of rustling leaves.

 

✦

I blinked my bleary eyes. I must have been very tired, because even after leaving the mental realm, it seemed I’d slept for quite a long time in the real world. That aside, since I’d fallen asleep on the couch, where I was lying felt terribly uncomfortable. As I squirmed around in the narrow space, a low voice sounded near my ear.

 

“Did you sleep well?”

 

“…”

 

Only then did I realize. The reason it was uncomfortable and cramped wasn’t because of the couch. It was because someone was lying behind me, holding me as we slept together.

 

I lowered my gaze. I could see his solid arm wrapped around my waist, and my own hand gripping that arm tightly. If blame were to be assigned, it seemed mine was slightly greater.

 

“…Have you been like this the whole time?”

 

“Yes. You were holding onto me, Sasha.”

 

“You should have gently put it down… and gotten away.”

 

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

 

After loosening his arm and sitting up, I gathered myself and draped the shawl over my shoulders. I couldn’t bring myself to turn and look at his face.

 

It was always like this whenever I returned from his mental realm. When I opened my eyes, I was inevitably tangled up with him in a posture that looked as though we’d done something the night before. Thinking that this, too, might be an expression of my desire made me feel embarrassed.

 

“The tree grew a lot.” I changed the subject, trying to steer things into a calm, matter-of-fact atmosphere.

 

“Did it?”

 

“The trunk’s circumference has increased by two steps. And I even saw it growing.”

 

“Perhaps kissing your back was particularly effective.”

 

“…”

 

My attempt at a neutral conversation failed. I wasn’t even sure that could really be called a kiss, but since Regen said so, I decided to accept it as such.

 

Regen stated, “If you’re fine with it, Sasha, then I want to become stronger.”

 

“There’s nothing not fine about that.”

 

It was a relief. As an imperial princess, all I had to do was give the answer I wanted while maintaining my dignity. I was only worried that my voice might have sounded too excited.

 

“For now, put some clothes on.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Around the time he had slipped back into the shirt he’d taken off before sleeping, someone knocked on the bedroom door.

 

“Your Highness, it’s Hamel. If you’re awake, may I come in?”

 

“Come in.”

 

At this hour, it must be an important report. Sure enough, Hamel didn’t disappoint.

 

“We’ve identified the one behind the poison provided to the Princess New Moon.”

 

“…Is that so?”

 

Even I could hear how cold my voice sounded. Regen, whom I glanced at, also had eyes that had gone cold.

 

I was very much looking forward to the name Hamel would say. Who would it be? Who would receive my wrath?

 

“It’s Count Raval Gawain.”

 

I smiled faintly. Before long, a corpse bearing that name would be drifting ashore.

 

* * *

10. A Greater Evil That Devours Evil

 

A black-haired young man strode through the main palace corridors with his chin lifted arrogantly. Dressed in a deliberately tight shirt to make his chest look larger and flaunting wealth and status with a vest densely adorned with jewels, he was none other than Count Raval Gawain. His steps toward an audience with Emperor Axellion were filled with unusual confidence. He was on his way to report the successful completion of an imperial order.

 

With the founding festival approaching, Raval had arrested not only criminals but anyone who showed even the slightest hint of suspicious behavior. It was no exaggeration to say that the crime rate in the imperial capital was approaching zero. Not only that, he had gathered a wealth of trends from the capital to satisfy the mad emperor’s curiosity. Among operas, literature, and paintings created by commoners, Raval had personally selected only those that would meet the emperor’s standards.

 

The mad emperor was a renowned art collector, famous for his outstanding aesthetic sense. If even one of the items Raval brought caught the emperor’s eye, he would surely receive a great reward and strengthen his position within the palace.

 

I can’t go on living forever being called some upstart provincial noble or Arondit’s hunting dog. I must discover a work that catches the emperor’s eye and have my aristocratic taste acknowledged in high society.

 

Burning with ambition, the man knocked on the door for his audience.

 

“You must be Count Gawain. His Majesty is currently taking his midday nap in the bedchamber.”

 

“I will wait.”

 

“If you insist, this way.”

 

The gray-haired chamberlain led the way to the parlor. His businesslike attitude put Raval in a foul mood. The chamberlain often put on a fairly courteous act toward other nobles, but when dealing with Raval, he seemed to drop all pretense, showing a complete lack of sincerity.

 

This b*stard looks down on me too. As if he’s anything more than a chamberlain who sets forks on the emperor’s table.

 

In any case, among the mad emperor’s closest aides, there wasn’t a single one that Raval liked. The chief chamberlain was an old man relegated to the back rooms who dared to act as though he held real power; Marquis Osbond, who fancied himself an artist while planning perverted execution ceremonies; and Duke Arondit, who had used Raval like a dog to carry out all kinds of filthy deeds while spouting hypocrisy… And the one Raval disliked the most was standing right in front of him now.

 

“Well, if it isn’t Count Raval Gawain.”

 

“Sir Dominic.”

 

Dominic Mizekal, with that irritating smile he wore every time they met. Once again today, he managed to thoroughly sour Raval’s mood.