294: Lady in captivity (part 3)

Lady in captivity (part 3)

Her ears ached from the relentless screaming she was unaccustomed to, yet she refused to take a step back, maintaining a cold, hard eye contact with him.0

"I hear you loud and clear, Your Holiness, even without all the shouting. But the more I listen to you, the more I realize that it's you who has never truly heard me."

"You still doubt the Oracle's prophecy, don't you?" He gave her a wicked, sick smile. "Carry on with your doubts. They mean nothing to me. I made sure I'm the only King in your life. And now that you're here, I have no regrets whatsoever for killing that old bastard who was about to kill you if I hadn't intervened."

Once more, assuming something herself was one thing, but hearing it confirmed was another level of horror. Aldric of Varinthia was not just a kidnapper; he was a cold-blooded murderer, and she was his captive.

"Adelaide."

She loathed it, her full name spoken in his tone, escaping from his lips. She despised her very reflection in his midnight-blue eyes.

"...Adela," she corrected.

His eyes blazed. "Someone like me won't lay a finger on you unless it's for your protection, your correction," he paused and frowned, "or your pleasure."

Her head throbbed in sync with the churning in her stomach.

"Now," he produced a black parchment from his warm-looking coat then retrieved a strange white straw and placed both items next to the coat on her bed. "This doesn't require ink, but it functions the same way you're accustomed to."

"What am I supposed to do with it?" she asked, then immediately regretted her words, wondering if the strange white straw was sharp enough to pierce someone's skin.

"I'm offering you a chance to rectify what you've disrupted. I want you to draft a plan that we can review in a few hours."

The mere thought of him having unrestricted access to her room was enough to destroy her spirits.

"...Rectify what exactly? What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb; it doesn't suit your character. Don't forget that I know you too well for that."

"Explain what you want; I'm too tired for your riddles."

"You will reverse whatever caused that bastard Rauul to revoke Latora's acceptance of the Industrial Zone."

Her eyebrows shot up. For a moment, she wanted to make a sarcastic retort about how he had kidnapped the wrong person, how it was Andreas who had influenced Rauul to revoke Latora's approval. But on second thought, she decided it would be best to keep that information to herself for now.

"And you will send a letter to your father," he continued, "Assuring him of your safety and explaining that you've done what you should have from the start. Tell him that now, you'll be with the one who can truly protect you.

Faced with the delusional man in front of her, she was torn between tears and laughter, unable to settle on a proper reaction.

"...My house burns down while my husband is away, I vanish, only to send a parchment with implausible explanations and unfathomable demands... And they're supposed to believe me, is that it?"

"It's not about believing you. It's about providing justifications and evidence."

He was completely right about that. As long as nobody made the trip to Varinthia and actually saw her and heard her out, a signed letter from her would serve as solid proof of her consent to remain with Aldric.

It was unfair, how he was now thinking things through like a true royal. She fought to suppress the acidic sensation clawing up her throat, her mind racing to devise a plan to delay writing those two letters at all costs.

Their eyes both shot toward the closed door behind Aldric when a loud crashing sound reverberated from outside. He rushed out and sealed the door behind him with the help of the wind, leaving her isolated. She pressed her ear against the rough door, closing her eyes, she strained to hear as much as she could.

"What's this? Are you acting out...In your age?" Aldric asked coldly.

"What you're doing is too much. This isn't what we agreed on," the woman argued in a child's voice.

And then it all struck Adela in an instant. Samandra. That was undoubtedly the name of Aldric's Queen, the one who had been governing the kingdom alongside his counselors while he was in Emoria. Her hand shot up to her mouth, suppressing the scream that threatened to escape her throat.

Did he have the audacity to ask his Queen to tend to the married Lady he kidnapped?

"Don't blow things out of proportion," he dismissed in an offensive tone. "This is the price you pay for staying on the throne you adore so much."

There was a moment of charged silence after that.

"...This little interaction between us is not enough," she spoke calmly now. "You must attend to your marital obligations. It has been too long."

"Right here? Right now?" Aldric asked in a nervous tone that was completely unfamiliar to Adela.

Pressing her hand firmly over her mouth, she retreated until she stumbled onto the bed, landing on the black parchment and pen he had left, her mind desperately seeking a way out of this impossible situation.

What kind of twisted relationship did the two of them have? More importantly, how was she supposed to escape this captivity?

...What is going on out there?

Her neck slowly turned in the direction of the door when moans and thumping noises started emanating from the room next to her.

They...They can't be...

She crawled up the bed to the furthest corner in the room and gathered her knees with her hands, trying to think of anything other than what was happening between her kidnappers outside.

"Adela... I love you, Adela!"

When Aldric's muffled, drunken grunts came through the door, a mortified Adela pressed her hands against her ears as much as she could. She had never felt so helpless before, never had she needed Egon by her side more desperately.

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