Chapter 164 "I like you, I want to be with you for real..."
The small imperial study was crammed with five people: four guards and Haiya. Haiya was bound hand and foot and slumped on the carpet.
I waved for the four guards to leave, and looked coldly at Haiya: "Your relationship with King Midan isn't that good either; he didn't even take you with him when he ran away."
Hya lay on the carpet, glancing at me sideways: "You think your relationships with other people are very strong?"
I sneered and ignored his words. "What should I do with you?"
Hya sneered, "Keeping me alive will do you good, killing me will do you no good."
"Oh?" I laughed. "I'd like to hear what the benefit of keeping you around is."
He glanced at me sideways and said, "You can only become the King of the West if you marry me."
I was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter again, laughing uncontrollably.
His gaze was like a knife.
"Do you think I care about becoming the King of the West?" I said with a laugh. "I'm not one of your people, so whether I become king or not is none of my business."
His gaze sharpened further. "If you do not become king, you will only die."
“What a joke,” I sneered again. “I’ve never heard of the saying that if you don’t become king, you’ll die.”
"It's not true for others, but it is for you."
"Then tell me your reasons." I stared at him with a half-smile.
His eyes turned playful. "Tell me, if you were Beatrice, would you rather be dead or alive?"
“If you live,” he said slowly, “Asterix would very well be the next King of the North, and you would be the Grand Chancellor of the North. It’s just that Asterix wasn’t raised to be a weak-willed bastard child…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but the meaning was clear: she was unlikely to be my puppet, and in order to maintain control, she would most likely kill me.
I stared at him coldly for a while, then left the study, leaving the guard at the door with the words, "Starve him for three days."
I won't kill him, but he won't get away with it. A traitor who betrayed the Queen and his wife will not have a good end.
——
I never intended to control Beatrice, nor did I aspire to be the King of the West, but I needed that book in that secret chamber in the West. I spoke frankly with Beatrice, explaining my purpose, and she smiled, "I know you're only interested in that book."
I breathed a sigh of relief and went to soak in the hot spring.
The Royal Palace in the Independence City has several open-air hot springs; I chose the smallest one and soaked in the warm water with my eyes closed. So much has happened these past few months, I've been in a constant state of tension, and it's been a long time since I've relaxed like this.
The warm, moist spring water soothed my skin, and a cool breeze brushed against my face, making me feel much more comfortable.
It was past midnight, and all was quiet except for the occasional chirping of crickets, a rare moment of tranquility.
A chuckle came from beside me, startling me awake. I saw Manberia completely naked. Of course, I could only see his upper body; his lower body was submerged in the hot spring water. The water was quite deep, reaching my shoulders and up to his chest and abs.
"When did you get here? What are you doing here?" I panicked.
"I missed you after so many months, so I came." He said in a coquettish tone, "Did you miss me?"
"Aren't you afraid that if you run away, the palace will be in turmoil again?" I searched for my clothes by the pool, but after grabbing for a long time, I couldn't find them. Where did the maids put my undress?
He suddenly hugged me tightly, nuzzled his head against my shoulder, and looked completely infatuated. "So what if there's chaos? Nothing is more important than a beautiful woman."
"Hey, let go of me! Haven't you ever seen a woman before?" I was furious. I wanted to push him away but didn't dare touch him. His hot body covered me, making my body burn even more.
He laughed heartily, "Never seen you before, you're the first woman I've ever met."
I was so angry that I hit him on the head with my hand. "Get away from me and stop hugging me."
"I want to hug you," he said, his cheeks puffed out as if he were angry. "Didn't you tell me that I've never seen a woman before? Now that I've got you, I don't dare let go!"
"Hey, are you going to let go or not? If you don't, I'll hit you!" I shouted angrily.
"How could you do that? I'd love to have you all over me." He laughed loudly again, "It's been so long since a woman touched me, I'm going crazy missing you."
"Are you sick?!" I secretly mustered all my strength and kicked him. He cried out in exaggerated pain, "You're the one who's sick! You're trying to murder your husband!"
I finally managed to grab my clothes, which the maids placed on the other side of the hot spring. I hurriedly climbed ashore, not caring that I had been naked for a few seconds, and hastily put on my robe.
Manboya also came out of the hot spring pool with a grin, and stood naked in front of me without any regard for the consequences, looking at me with a wicked smile.
I was annoyed and hurriedly buttoned my clothes. "Hey, hurry up and get dressed."
"I won't wear it, unless you help me put it on." He said arrogantly.
I got angry. Seeing his clothes lying in the grass, I grabbed them, threw them at him, and turned to leave.
A minute later, he caught up with me, his clothes disheveled. We chased each other down the quiet, dark corridor.
"Why are you so serious? Your temper is still so bad." He complained while buttoning his robe. "Can't you be affectionate with your husband?"
“Our marriage is purely political and based on mutual benefit,” I said, walking faster without looking back. “It’s impossible for me to fulfill any marital obligations.”
“You can’t think like that,” he said, his tone full of dissatisfaction. “I proposed to you with great sincerity.”
I ignored him and continued walking briskly forward, while he kept saying behind me, "I truly want to be your wife, and I genuinely love you."
I stopped abruptly and turned to look at him: "You just want to use marriage to create a deep bond of mutual benefit with me. Wherever the superpowered woman is, that's where the turning point lies."
He sighed deeply, "So what if there's an element of self-interest involved? It doesn't affect my interest in you, nor does it affect my love for you. I've wanted to marry you since I was seven years old."
“You’ve gotten married and you’re satisfied,” I said, shrugging. “You’ve achieved your goal, so don’t think about wanting more.”
He looked at me with a grin and said, "You know, I like you and I've always wanted to be with you for real."
Realizing what he meant by "truly being together," I spat at him and said, "Keep dreaming!"
The next day, I didn't see him again. I was secretly relieved, thinking he would still bother me.
During lunch, Beatrice remarked, "Didn't we see Prince Mamboa last night? Why haven't we seen him all morning?"
"Who knows?" I replied absentmindedly.
After that, I didn't have time to pay attention to where he was, as I was busy with other things. The independent capital city had just been recaptured, and there were many things to be done. I met with Beatrice and several key ministers to discuss the reconstruction of the capital city, including drafting several new trade agreements and maintaining the old ones. By the time the meeting ended, it was already dinnertime, and I still hadn't seen Manberia. I was too lazy to think about where he had gone and continued with my own business.
While organizing official documents, Beatrice asked me, "Sister, will you return to the North with Prince Mamboa?"
"I don't really want to go back."
"Why? Is it because it's freezing cold there?"
"No, because I've never considered him my husband, so why would I go to his place?"
"But he has always treated you as his wife."
“Our marriage was purely for mutual benefit; I never intended to consider him my husband.” As I said this, something suddenly occurred to me, and I quickly asked, “Asterix, do you want me to return to the North?”
Beatrice hesitated for a moment, a troubled expression on her face. "Well, sister, if I say I hope so, will you be sad?"
"Why?"
"Because I want you to have your own home, instead of treating your husband's family like my mother did."
I pondered the meaning of that sentence, but couldn't quite grasp it.
In the middle of the night, I stretched my feet out to warm them by the fireplace; I couldn't sleep, and my feet got cold after sitting for a while. I had already lay in bed, but I tossed and turned and couldn't fall asleep, so I got up and sat to read. After a while, I got hungry again, so I called a maid to bring me a bowl of seafood porridge. I ate it all in one go, and my stomach was round and full, but I still couldn't sleep. I walked back and forth in the corridor several times until my calves ached, but I still didn't want to sleep.
Suddenly, Mamboya appeared, grinning at me. "I heard you have insomnia?"
I didn't reply and continued walking down the corridor for the fifth time. He followed me from one end to the other, and we walked down it for the sixth time. When we were on the seventh time, he stopped me from continuing, saying, "If you keep walking like this, your legs will be ruined. You need to rest for a while before you can walk again."
My legs were really sore. I touched my calves and agreed.
Sitting in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, I yawned, finally feeling a bit sleepy. But he wouldn't leave. I pointed to the sofa chair, "Then you can sleep there."
He looked reluctant and grabbed my hand, saying, "Don't sleep. I've only been here a little while and you're already trying to sleep."
"What are you going to do if you're not going to sleep?" I tried to shake off his hand, but I couldn't.
"Look at the moon." He actually pointed to a crescent moon outside the window.
I was both amused and exasperated. "How did you, a straight political man, become so artsy?"
What is art and literature?
"It's all about ambiance."
"I've always been particular about style."
I finally shook off his hand and laughed, "You call this being romantic? You probably can't even say sweet nothings properly."
"Why wouldn't I say that?" He looked like he had been wronged.
"I definitely wouldn't say it, at least not in a very good way." Looking at the moon outside the window—it was especially bright tonight—I couldn't help but say a few more words, "There's a famous writer who once said that you shouldn't directly say 'I love you,' but rather 'The moonlight is beautiful tonight.' Do you know how to express yourself that way?"
He laughed, "So literary?"
I yawned and went straight to the bed. "I knew you wouldn't understand."
Just as I was about to pull down the bed curtains, he grabbed my hand and said, "The moonlight tonight isn't beautiful at all; it's because you're more beautiful."
I chuckled, but he suddenly kissed my slightly parted lips, pressing his tongue against mine. I tried to pull away and break free, but it was too late. He kissed me hard, so hard that he pushed me down onto the bed. His lips and tongue were busy, and his hands weren't idle either. With a tearing sound, my robes ripped off...
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The author says: "The moonlight is beautiful tonight!" — From Japanese writer Natsume Soseki.
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