Chapter 18
Marcella’s brow furrowed. Even she thought it was unlikely, but she couldn’t help being suspicious.
“Is that something the person currently holding my leg to prevent me from leaving should be saying?”
“Young Lady, you are so suspicious.”
Arthur laughed loudly again.
Marcella couldn’t shake off the unease. Even though she treated it as nonsense, Arthur Digory was an untrustworthy man, and who knows how he might twist his words next?
“If you are so confident, then please protect me. Otherwise, I’ll bite my tongue and die.”
“Young Lady, biting one’s tongue to die is harder than you think.”
Marcella thought she had played a strong card, but Arthur chuckled.
“Then I’ll hang myself from a tree.”
However, when Marcella pointed to a tree standing not far away, he could no longer laugh. Perhaps, this Young Lady who had once stepped over people without hesitation, might actually do it. Arthur swallowed a dry gulp and smiled.
“Young Lady Marcella, would you dare to do such a thing regardless of your own will? The audacity!”
“Have you already forgotten that you are holding me here against my will right now?”
“Alright, Young Lady. Then let’s have some tea and talk first!”
Arthur persuaded Marcella, promising to specially prepare the tea she liked. But Marcella’s expression was slow to ease.
“I wouldn’t mind staying here clinging to Young Lady Marcella’s leg forever without getting tired, but aren’t you tired, Young Lady?”
As he said this, Arthur tightened his grip on Marcella’s leg as if squeezing it. The more Marcella winced in pain and furrowed her brow, the more Arthur raised the corner of his mouth.
“Then please let go of my leg.”
“I will let go if Young Lady Marcella promises not to run away.”
“You promise first.”
“Hahaha, Young Lady…”
“Promise me, Lord Digory. Just one month. You won’t try to use me beyond that.”
“Use you! I’ve never, not even once, tried to use you, Young Lady. I swear on my name.”
Arthur Digory. A liar. A man who flips his words as easily as turning his palm. Marcella vowed never to trust Arthur Digory.
* * *
The next day, Marcella sat facing Nell and held a teacup as if it were a normal routine. It was the same even though Nell had proposed to her and been rejected just yesterday.
Facing Nell had never been particularly comfortable, but it had never been this awkward. Marcella glanced surreptitiously at the silent Nell. He was holding an empty teacup, silently gazing into it. What kind of behavior was that? Marcella was puzzled but didn’t have the courage to ask him outright. No, she didn’t have the courage to start any conversation at all.
Arthur Digory, satisfied that Marcella had ultimately stayed, kept smiling and watched Marcella from behind the sofa where Nell sat.
*It feels like I’m being watched.* Marcella felt uncomfortable again.
“I will forget what you said yesterday.”
Even without courage, she couldn’t just sit drinking tea with Nell forever, staring into an empty cup. When Marcella spoke, Nell finally looked up from the empty cup.
He tilted his head slightly, then looked back at Arthur.
“Young Lady, if by what was said yesterday you mean…”
“About the Empress.”
Marcella cut off Arthur’s words. Nell blinked at Marcella, then turned his head towards her.
“Do you mean me asking you to become Empress?”
Hearing it from his own mouth again put Marcella in a strange mood. Marcella looked directly at Nell and nodded.
“If that is your wish, then yes.”
Fortunately, Nell wasn’t as obstinate as Arthur. Marcella, who had been extremely tense, was relieved.
Nell was hard to understand, and it was unclear what his intentions were—similar to Arthur—but at least he didn’t lie brazenly with a smiling face. He didn’t lie on the dirt floor, grab her leg, or tell her to step over him.
“I wished for you to become my wife.”
Marcella, who had been relieved and was taking a sip of tea, was so startled she almost dropped her teacup. She quickly set it down.
“Your Majesty, I returned your divine beast to you.”
“The Phoenix? You personally returned it, so I know.”
“And yet, are you proposing to me again, Your Majesty?”
The words “proposing” were easier to say than “Your Majesty’s wife.” Marcella glared at Nell with a frown. Because Arthur was so pushy, she had momentarily forgotten. He might not roll on the ground, but the root cause of all this was ultimately Nell.
“Yes.”
“Your Majesty! I have good news.”
Before Marcella could sharply reject Nell’s proposal again, Arthur hurriedly intervened. He beamed and quickly clapped his hands.
“Young Lady Marcella has agreed to stay at the Imperial Palace for another month!” Arthur said it was truly happy news and kept nodding.
Marcella gave Arthur a sidelong glare and stood up.
“A person who has refused Your Majesty’s request twice cannot shamelessly remain at the Imperial Palace. I will take my leave now.”
“That’s strange. Just now, Arthur said you agreed to stay another month.”
“……”
“Whose words are correct?”
Arthur stared wide-eyed at Marcella. Marcella hesitated, then sat back down.
“You’re always talking about wanting to go back.”
“So… you don’t like hearing that?”
“I don’t like it.”
Nell poured a little more tea into Marcella’s cup from which she had just taken a sip. Marcella watched his action with a furrowed brow.
“If you don’t like hearing it, then grant my request.” Since he was forcing her to stay another month, he should at least do that much. Marcella pressed her lips together and looked at Nell.
“What is it?”
“Please don’t propose to me anymore.”
“If I don’t propose to you anymore, will you stop saying you want to leave me?”
“Your Majesty—”
When Arthur tried to intervene again, Nell raised a hand to stop him. As Marcella nodded, Nell poured tea into his own empty cup as well.
“Then let it be so.”
Surprisingly, Nell readily agreed. Yet, Marcella couldn’t feel relieved or happy, as something still felt off. Was it because he was so nonchalant after being rejected twice? Or perhaps because she couldn’t discern his intentions at all.
Nell recalled the scolding he had received last night, which had made his ears ring.
“I was told by everyone that I had gotten the order wrong.”
Scolded? By whom? As Marcella blinked, Nell picked up his teacup.
“They were intrigued by you.”
Nell tilted the teacup. However, he only tilted it enough for the tea to be on the verge of spilling, but didn’t drink. When Nell looked up, his eyes met Marcella’s. Strangely, her expression was worse than before. Nell placed the cup back on the table.
“Why would they be intrigued by someone like me?”
Who exactly was Nell talking about? Marcella grew increasingly uneasy.
“They were curious about the woman who rejected my proposal. That’s what they said.”
Marcella gasped in surprise. She thought he was so indifferent that he didn’t care, but the Emperor had taken it more to heart than expected. To dare reject the Emperor’s proposal!
Nell tilted his head. The more he spoke, the worse Marcella’s face became, until it turned pale. Nell watched Marcella, whose lips trembled as she turned pale.
“Is there a problem with my words?”
He asked if he had misspoken again, and Marcella’s face turned even paler. Was she in pain somewhere?
“Marcella, why aren’t you answering?”
At that, Marcella’s body flinched. Nell had seen that expression on her face before. Thinking back slowly, it was strangely vivid—that day, Marcella had made that same expression when she saw Tamarin and the mist.
“Are you afraid?”
He had left both Tamarin and the Phoenix behind, so what exactly was Marcella afraid of? Nell tilted his head, watching Marcella, who didn’t answer.
Marcella’s mind had gone as blank as her face was pale. Because the Emperor said nothing and even his aide didn’t make an issue of her rejecting the proposal, she had been mistaken.
Marcella Morris was, at best, just the sister of the late Count Morris and an Inferior. If the Emperor commanded her to become Empress, she was not someone who could audaciously refuse. Yet she had refused—twice. If the Emperor made an issue of this, he could do so very easily. Marcella’s shoulders trembled.
Nell reached a hand out slightly towards Marcella. Startled, she flinched and shrunk back. Nell stopped his outstretched hand. Had he gotten the order wrong again? Nell recalled Duchess Martinez, who had come to see him last night, furious.
* * *
“Your Majesty, I have no desire to become in-laws with you, and I absolutely, absolutely do not care who you marry.”
“Is that so.”
“Then tell me honestly. Do you truly intend to marry Marcella Morris?”
“I do intend to.”
Why are you asking with a face that suggests this is an obvious matter? Martinez was exasperated. For some reason, Arthur Digory, who always volunteered to be the Emperor’s interpreter, was lost in thought, pressing his lips shut. Martinez clicked her tongue in frustration.
“Why?”
“Wasn’t it you all who told me to take an Empress?”
“I’m asking *why* Marcella Morris! It’s not like you just said you’d take anyone as Empress because we were being noisy, you yourself directly chose Marcella Morris!”
“If Marcella becomes Empress, then wouldn’t it be fine for me to spend time with her?”
“Your Majesty, are you saying you want to spend time with that young lady, so you plan to make her Empress?”
The Emperor tilted his head again with a look of incomprehension. Martinez realized her mouth kept hanging open like a fool’s, but she couldn’t seem to close it.
