#32. Since You’re Prepared, I’ll Take Responsibility
“She wasn’t an ordinary woman. A few thugs were about to interfere, thinking they’d help, but… she handled it cleanly with her own hands.”
Claudia’s lips curved into a faint smile, as if the memory alone brought her pleasure.
“She had guards, yes, but she didn’t rely on brute force. Confident and dignified, I’d say.”
“……”
“She must be clever. Hiding her guards to prepare for danger… that’s no simple feat.”
“Lydia. Did you find out who she was?”
“I didn’t see her face. Still, I liked the feeling. Maybe it was a sense of kinship.”
“A sense of kinship?”
“Handling men in that body isn’t as easy as it sounds.”
Even Claudia herself found it strange, but she was drawn to that mysterious woman. She wanted, if given the chance, to share a drink and talk with her.
It was the first time she had felt that way toward a woman who wasn’t a comrade sharing blood and sweat.
“Lydia, by any chance, was her hair fiery red?”
Douglas asked, as if something had suddenly occurred to him.
“Why the hair?”
“The woman you saw… I think it might be Elisabeth.”
Douglas spoke in a serious yet confident tone.
“That’s absurd.”
“Apparently, Elisabeth asked Susan about the herbal shop’s location. The day I went to buy herbs.”
“Her hair was red, sure, but there’s no way it was Elisabeth.”
“And that day was the exact day Elisabeth took leave!”
Claudia paused briefly, narrowing her brows.
“She’s not the type to linger in slums without ballrooms or jewelers. She wouldn’t wear plain clothes like a commoner either.”
“Elisabeth has changed completely. She’s not the woman you knew.”
A surge of heat rose in Claudia’s chest, but she pushed it down.
Elisabeth had only ever been a friend’s former fiancée.
No matter what, cheap jealousy was unacceptable.
Could the woman who commanded armed guards with precision and captivated everyone really be Elisabeth?
It was humiliating to realize she had felt some admiration, even briefly, without knowing it.
On top of that, she was disappointed in Douglas for defending Elisabeth.
“People don’t change so easily, Dougie.”
“This time it’s real. You saw it with your own eyes, didn’t you?”
“You want to believe that, don’t you? Always betrayed, yet still believing.”
“Claudia.”
“Elisabeth is now stirring trouble beyond society, even within the royal family. Skillfully using His Majesty’s favor.”
“You’re mistaken.”
“Then explain. How could she have become the Crown Prince’s tutor?”
Douglas fell silent for a moment before giving a weak response.
“Because she’s capable.”
“A woman who spent her life lost in parties and wine? Apart from fooling around with other men while having a fiancée, what ability could she possibly have?”
Claudia let out a bitter laugh.
Her composed face darkened, but Douglas did not yield.
“I told you. Elisabeth has changed.”
“A woman who’s never lifted anything heavier than a fork becoming a swordsmanship instructor?”
“She was the one who revealed the Crown Prince’s poisoning.”
“Couldn’t the poisoner be her?”
“What are you even saying?”
Douglas raised his voice.
Claudia twisted the corner of her mouth.
“She must’ve wanted to manipulate His Highness, gain credit, and attract His Majesty’s attention. And she succeeded, didn’t she?”
“Lydia…”
“Eventually, the culprit wasn’t even caught, right? Coincidence?”
A heavy silence pressed down on the reception room.
Douglas, taking a few deep breaths, spoke with a flushed face.
“I know you’ve never liked Elisabeth. Perhaps because she’s my friend. But please, don’t slander her.”
“Why would I slander her?”
“I’m asking, Claudia.”
Why would Douglas even bow his head for Elisabeth?
The bitterness in her mouth felt like chewing bile.
The man she adored was defending Elisabeth while treating her like a schemer.
A surge of baseless rage erupted.
She wanted to throw away her composed, impassive face.
She wanted to spill hot blood.
The blood of the villainess who deceived Douglas and even dared to challenge the Emperor.
Even in this anger, Claudia remained a knight—and because she was a knight, she constantly checked herself, refined herself.
‘If I kill someone out of jealousy, I’d be the worst as a knight and as a human. Even a villainess’ life is precious. I mustn’t act rashly.’
But what if, despite caution, the person wasn’t worth saving?
Then she would draw her sword without hesitation.
The lake water was cold and deep.
She parted the dark navy waves, searching for Nikolai.
Had the unusually bright moonlight not shone, she might never have found him.
Seeing him pale, as if a corpse that couldn’t close its eyes, her limbs froze.
‘Why isn’t he swimming? Could he… be dead?!’
His hair floated like black water weeds.
Bubbles, soon to vanish, lingered eerily around him.
Thump, thump—her heart pounded violently against her chest.
In her past life, she had seen many who had lost the will to live.
People exhausted from trying to survive.
Souls who wished to leave all their pain behind forever.
And she was one of them, so she could not ignore the emptiness in Nikolai’s eyes.
Tired, lonely, seeking relief.
Even a man who had everything in the world was gripped by a helplessness similar to her past self.
‘He could go to another woman instead of me. What’s he doing underwater? If he wants to die, what’s he planning?!’
She ground her teeth, refusing to let him die at will.
Summoning all her strength, she grabbed him by the collar.
The time it took to pull him onto the shore felt like a millennium.
The soaked man was heavy enough to whiten her vision.
The taste of coppery blood rose in her throat.
But she couldn’t give up on him.
If it was a prank, she would make him pay.
If not, she would make him repay her.
With that single thought, she clenched her teeth.
“Ha… ha…”
Gasping, she checked him over.
Underwater, his eyelids had been open, but now they remained tightly shut.
His neatly arranged lashes didn’t move.
She slapped his pale cheeks with the side of her hand.
“Snap out of it! You’re going to die after making me suffer like this?”
“……”
“What are you doing in front of me? Don’t you realize what a grave sin this is?”
She thought it a cruel joke.
He was only playing with her, surely not truly unconscious.
Her slaps became harsher.
Even after pouring out all her resentment, anger, despair, and hostility, his eyes remained closed.
‘No… no…!’
She pressed her ear to Nikolai’s nose.
No breath.
No rise or fall of his chest.
Only dampness and an eerie silence surrounded him.
“Don’t die! I won’t allow it! You bad…!”
She had never imagined she would use CPR learned from the International Volunteer Corps like this.
Clasping her hands, she pressed rapidly on his chest.
Huff, huff, huff—cold sweat rolled down her forehead in rhythm.
Flowing naturally, she moved to the next step.
Filling her lungs with air, she pressed her lips to his.
“Hmm.”
She recalled the secret sensation of her first kiss.
The memory, like a brand, refused to fade.
Yet the warmth in the memory was gone.
Nikolai’s lips were cold and limp, like lifeless flesh, sending shivers down her spine.
The fear was worse than awaiting a guillotine blade.
The thought that it might be too late stole her breath.
She did not want to lose him.
She did not want him to die in front of her.
Even if he was a notorious playboy, pursuing other women daily, she wanted him to exist in this world.
She had dreamt every night of being executed alongside him.
But never before had his life felt as precious as her own.
She did not expect to want to protect him more than herself.
“Live! I’ll live too, so you live!”
She shouted and pressed her chest hard against his.
With all her remaining strength, she breathed life into him.
A faint warmth returned.
“Ugh…!”
He did not stop at simply returning to life.
He pressed his lips against hers, moving actively inward.
Their lips sealed, breaths mingling.
Another dizziness surged.
Where had this heat been hiding, bursting out now?
Why was he kissing her at a moment like this?
She wanted to punch his shoulder, shove him away, call him a scoundrel.
But Nikolai allowed no lapse.
His cold fingers steadied her head, the other hand clutching her waist tightly.
The wet fabric clung to her curves like it wasn’t there at all.
It felt less like the lakeside grass and more like lying naked in bed with him.
Thrills surged from her toes upward.
Despite chances, she never pushed him away.
Their hearts beat hotly in tandem—his, revived by her hands.
She wanted to feel him alive with her entire body.
She even craved his lips more.
Soft, wet, and tender—she wanted to possess them longer.
No, she wanted to monopolize them.
After the first kiss, she had to restrain the jealousy imagining other women who might have kissed him instead.
She had no right, so she had to deny her jealousy.
His breath mingled with hers, melting away her turmoil.
Perhaps because of their long struggle through cold water, the chill transformed into warmth, and a new heat ignited.
This kiss seemed endless, affirming that they were alive and no one could disturb them.
Nikolai held her lower lip, seeking her upper, advancing.
Her heart raced in wild, irregular patterns.
She felt as if her soul had been caught on his lips.
Suddenly, fear gripped her.
This moment could change her life entirely.
It was an intensely passionate kiss.
At the end, Nikolai spoke in a hoarse voice.
“You saved me, so now you take responsibility, Elisabeth.”
How reckless and arrogant.
“Were you planning to die?”
“I don’t die that easily. I can’t die at will either.”
Another cryptic remark.
Strange, but it wasn’t the right time to question him.
“You’re the emperor, and yet so irresponsible?”
“Do I look like an emperor to you?”
“No. Just… like a madman.”
She replied, too distracted to even shake water from her hair.
Nikolai snorted, as if agreeing.
It was astonishing that he could even smile in this situation.
He did not look like someone who had just regained consciousness.
His eyes were soft like sponge cake layered with honey and cream, yet shone cold like the winter sea reflecting moonlight.
With a harsh expression, he said:
“You saw it right. I look like a madman too, even to my own eyes.”
A hollow laugh dispersed.
The moonlight dimmed. Thick darkness pressed down on them.
The man who had risked his life for trivial reasons now demanded silence.
No matter what she said, they could not be the same.
In the distant future, recalling today, she might curse the gods or offer prayers of gratitude to fate.
She could not guess which path it would take.
“Do you really want me to take responsibility?”
“Yes.”
“Are you prepared to be swept along?”
“Do I need to show more resolve?”
He nodded toward the lake.
Annoying, but now it was her turn to show her resolve.
“Regret won’t help. You really can’t take it back now.”
Even as she struck him, Nikolai’s cheeks flushed like blooming flowers.
His unfocused eyes regained focus.
His eyes sparkled like emeralds set in gold, brimming with new hope.
The corners of his mouth lifted.
His usually sharp gaze softened like a gentle boy’s.
It was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen.
