CHAPTER 95……………………………..
: Overprotective
“No one can hurt you, Celya.”
Dietrich murmured in a low voice.
He had carefully lathered Celya with soap and was rinsing the foam from her skin with the warm water. After washing her, he spread a hyacinth-scented oil over his hands and tenderly smoothed her hair.
“You said we’d bathe together, but I’m the only one getting washed?” Celya asked.
Dietrich answered casually, “The princess should rest comfortably. I’ll attend to Her Highness’s personal needs.”
Celya laughed out loud.
Every delicate stroke as he smoothed her hair and skin was overflowing with affection for her. Whenever she was with Dietrich she felt fully alive.
Until now people had tried to exploit her at every turn. The Brillion family had; the countless men who’d proposed to her had; so had the old emperor of Abelon and the crown prince. Born with a powerful ability, she’d been treated only as a tool to preserve her body, a ticking clock toward her end.
What would have happened if she’d never met Dietrich? She might have died without ever learning that Illeon was the one who ruined her kingdom.
Celya felt both tenderness and gratitude toward Dietrich. He was the one who healed her dying body and stood beside her, the most reliable person to help destroy this Abelon. Realizing that washed the worries from her heart like water.
“…Thank you, Dietrich.”
Dietrich’s hand paused for a moment as he spread the oil.
“Celya.”
He spoke her name in a quiet voice and added, “There’s something I need to tell you.” Then he lowered his head and pressed his lips to her forehead. The wet skin of her brow made a soft little sound.
Dietrich finished rinsing her hair with warm water, then towel-dried the droplets from her silver hair. The wet sheen caught the light like a mirror.
When Celya climbed out of the tub, drops of water fell from her skin, soaking the floor. The floor was slick and she slipped.
“Ah!”
She pitched forward. Dietrich caught her in a sudden, strong embrace so she wouldn’t fall. Their chests pressed flush against each other. Celya, caught against his solid chest, looked up to see worry on his face.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“No. Thanks to you.”
Dietrich breathed a sigh of relief—but only for a moment.
“Still, there might be some injury.”
He covered her lips with his.
Her shallow breaths slipped between their parted mouths. The scent of hyacinth and rosemary—mingled with the sweet warmth of her skin—wafted toward him. Dietrich pressed his lips firmly. He alternated between an almost impatient intensity and a tenderness that softened instantly whenever Celya faltered.
His lips slid down toward the hollow beneath her collarbone. A strange, thrilling sensation ran along her spine and Celya grabbed a handful of his hair.
“I told you I’m not hurt… You’re way too overprotective.” she panted.
Dietrich lifted her up effortlessly.
Carrying Celya out of the bathroom, he set her gently on the bed and said, “Your body still isn’t fully healed. The blood inside might have been purified, but organ damage won’t be fixed by only being with me once.”
Celya wanted to argue. The first time he’d held her, it hadn’t been just once—he’d been so consummate she’d lost count of how many times until she nearly blacked out.
“Of course, if you don’t want to, I won’t force you.” Dietrich’s eyes gleamed with desire, but he still respected her choice.
Celya smiled back at him. “There’s no way I’d refuse.”
She placed her hand on his firm forearm. Dietrich swallowed her mouth in an instant. Their breaths tangled in the bedroom. His large hand roamed her sensitive places. A feeling like melting spread through her; she dug her nails into his biceps.
Every touch carried his affection. He held her close and plunged deeply into her. His lips, which had been claiming hers, traced down beneath her collarbone. Wherever Dietrich touched, heat seemed to consume her body.
Celya dissolved in his arms. Waves of pleasure washed over her until her consciousness drifted away.
She looked up at him with dazed eyes. Moonlight filtering through the window settled in his black hair. Below his straight brows his red eyes burned like fire, containing only Celya. She slid her hand along his back.
It was a night in which she laid down all worry and fear. As if the world had shrunk to only two people, they shared their love.
Dawn arrived.
Birdsong came from beyond the window. Celya, who had been taken by Dietrich through the night, lifted her eyelids slowly. Despite having come close to fainting the night before, her body felt far lighter than before.
She sat up in bed. She’d gone to sleep wearing nothing, but when she woke she wore a white negligee—Dietrich must have dressed her during the night. He was already gone from the room.
Knock, knock.
At the sound on the door, Celya turned her gaze.
“Celya.” Dietrich’s voice called.
“Come in.” she answered.
Dietrich entered in his black uniform, pushing a tray piled with food: a juicy beef steak, thick sausages scored on the surface, stew full of meat and vegetables, and desserts including macarons…
Celya’s eyes widened and Dietrich smiled gently. “I was afraid you might be hungry.”
“This is too much. And meat for breakfast?” she said.
“You can leave whatever you don’t want. Eat as much as you like. Anderson cooked it,” he replied.
With an elegant motion he cut a piece of steak and lifted it to her lips. Celya opened her mouth and accepted it, savoring the flavor.
“Maybe because it’s meat—it tastes good even in the morning,” she said.
“That’s good,” he replied.
“If I keep eating like this won’t I get fat?” she asked.
“Celya. You should be eating more,” Dietrich said. He used his finger to wipe sauce from her mouth. Then he offered her a piece of sausage cut into a bite-size portion. She ate it; it was delicious.
Only after she’d tasted everything did Dietrich speak.
“I have news on Illeon this morning.”
“!” Celya’s attention snapped to him.
“He escaped from prison and gathered the private soldiers of several ducal houses. It looks like he managed to extract the remaining Brillion men as well. That’s why he’s been so hard to trace—he’s been hiding at a boutique.”
“A boutique?” she echoed.
“Yes. The capital’s most famous boutique, Écléan, used only by high-society women. I never imagined he’d kill the shopkeeper and hide in the boutique—along with Duke Portman.”
Dietrich paused briefly, tucking a stray lock of Celya’s hair behind her ear as he continued.
“Illeon will come to the palace soon to kill me. He’ll stir people into rebellion and try to put my head on the guillotine.”
After thinking for a moment, Celya spoke up.
“I’ll be the bait. If Illeon comes into the palace on his own, I can use my ability to kill him.”
Dietrich shook his head as if the idea were impossible. “Celya. I would never make you do something that dangerous. It’s better I take you somewhere safe and slaughter those men myself.”
In every crisis she’d been protected by Dietrich. Celya couldn’t concede that. Now she wanted to protect him.
“I don’t know how many troops that snake will bring. I can’t leave you to fight alone. No.”
When Celya grew firm, Dietrich looked troubled.
“Celya. That bastard is aiming for you more than me.”
“I know.”
“And even knowing that, you still want to be the bait?”
“Yeah.” Celya’s eyes sparkled like stars.
Dietrich realized she would never bend her will.
“…Then do this.”
