Tamed A Blackened Slave Man

Chapter 71: Poisonous Butterfly



Chapter 71: Poisonous Butterfly

As long as it isnt Cassadin.

After hearing Fathers words, my heart pounded inside my chest. I tried to conceal my anxiety, putting on a smile for him.

Maybe its difficult now, but there might be a day when Father accepts us.

Perhaps it was guilt that made my right hand shake faintly. Then I subtly covered the tremor with my left hand as I spoke to Father.

Shouldnt we consider leaving the palace first, Father?

Father nodded in agreement. We resumed our walk through the long corridor, intending to leave the palace immediately.

That was, until a voice called out my name.

Aren.

A voice that had no business being in this place echoed from behind us. I slowly turned my head towards the source of that familiar voice.

Upon recognizing the owner of the voice, my eyes widened in disbelief. Because the one who had called out to me was none other than Damian, who was being supported by a palace physician and panting lightly.

There was a fresh wound on his right cheek that I hadnt seen before, which was likely inflicted by Cassadin.

Did he already wake up? But looking at his face

Damians face was incredibly pale. He was pale enough to the point where I thought it wouldnt be strange for him to pass out right on the spot.

It appears hes not as skilled at controlling his emotions as he used to be.

The reason I took the risk of visiting Damians mansion was to rattle this ironclad mentality of his.

After I framed Damian for Cassadins poisoning of the Crown Prince, I realized that I needed to approach Damian first, or else he would find a way to corner me.

Since his heart disease causes unbearable pain when he fails to control his emotions, I must have succeeded in disturbing him to some degree.

I turned toward Damian, who was looking at me with an oddly affectionate expression. Speaking in a tone filled with worry, I asked him,

Your Grace, how are you feeling?

Are you alright? I was very worried when you collapsed all of a sudden.

Im pleased to know that you were concerned for me.

He gave me a soft smile.

Could he possibly be your father?

Then Damian glanced at my father, who was standing beside me.

Why did it have to happen when Father was with me?

Damian was still unaware that there were other healers besides me. Just as I was about to divert Damians curiosity towards another topic, Father beat me to it.

It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. I am Arens father, Zigen Serkia.

Earl Zigen

I had only heard of your feats through rumors, so its an incredible honor to meet Your Grace in person.

Damian rarely made public appearances, aside from the Swordsmanship Competition and the occasional banquet, making it difficult for anyone who wished to meet him.

Thats precisely why I was able to pin the Crown Princes poisoning on Damian.

However, I hadnt expected even Father to want to meet Damian.

I will take this into consideration, as someone who is the father of Aren is also a father to me as well.

Why would my father be your father?

Unaware of my thoughts, Father merely smiled gladly.

Hahah! Im not sure how to respond to that. It seems your Grace is as kind as the rumors suggest. I was not aware that you were so close with my daughter.

Well, of course, we are.

Would it be rude of me to ask when Your Grace became close with my daughter?

Damian tilted his head sideways in response to my fathers question, a slight smirk curving the corners of his lips.

Ill have to keep that a secret.

A secret?

Yes, its a private matter between the two of us. Im afraid I cant share it with you.

For some reason, Damian had transformed our insignificant first meeting into a meaningful secret.

I wonder what hes scheming now?

As I glared at him, Damian shifted his attention towards Father and said,

I need to discuss a private matter with Aren. May I borrow her time for a moment?

I sent Father a pleading look, silently begging him not to leave, but he either didnt comprehend or chose to ignore it, as he simply nodded his agreement.

Certainly. Aren, Ill be waiting for you in front of the palace. Join me after youve spoken to His Grace.

Father.

Its alright. I wont follow you both. Ill be waiting nearby.

My father patted my back and departed, leaving us alone. Once my father had left, Damian also subtly signaled to the physician supporting him to withdraw.

Deciphering Damians hint, the physician retracted his hand that was supporting Damian, wearing a puzzled look.

I will also take my leave now

With both the palace physician and my father now gone, it was just Damian and me.

The length of the corridor seemed amplified by the silence. Oddly, the knights who should have been protecting the hallways were missing.

Sensing something was off, I broke the silence with an awkward laugh.

I cant seem to find the imperial guards. They were here just a moment ago.

They have departed at my command, Milady.

You sent them away?

It appears some knights still regard me as royalty, hence, they followed my orders.

Damian was speaking as he wiped away the beads of sweat dotting his forehead with a handkerchief. The difficulty he had articulating each word was a clear indication that he should be in bed at the moment.

I see. However, Your Grace, you seem currently unwell.

Wouldnt it be better for you to rest for now? We can discuss whatever matters we need to attend to at a later time.

Damian gave a faint smile when he noticed me looking around.

I didnt seek you out to ask for healing. To begin with, wouldnt the Emperor suspect both me and Milady if you were to heal me within the palace walls?

Then, why have you

In response to my question, Damian met my gaze squarely. Perhaps it was the crisp autumn sunlight, but Damians piercing green eyes seemed to shine brighter than usual.

Because you were the first person who sprang to mind when I woke up.

Pausing for a moment, Damian managed to muster up a calm smile. Seeing a smile on Damians pale face gave me the eerie sensation of a dead man smiling at me.

That is the only reason why I sought you out.

What an honor. To think that I was the first person Your Grace thought of.

I responded vaguely to Damians nonsensical remarks, assuming that our conversation would soon come to an end.

However, it seemed Damian had no intention of releasing me. He fixed his gaze on me and slowly began to speak.

I have heard that Cassadin has been elevated to a Marquess.

You heard about that?

I received the news right after I woke up. From a slave to a Marquess. His Majesty truly is remarkable to allow such a thing to happen.

I had been curious about why he looked so pale, but it must have been due to the shock of learning that Cassadin had acquired the title of Marquess.

Well, its understandable that Damian would struggle to contain his anger. Not only did he lose in his first ever fighting competition, but also Cassadin managed to secure the title of Marquess after winning.

Please pass on my congratulations to Cassadin.

Damian spoke these words while managing to maintain a smile, his mask never faltering. However, his eyes were devoid of any mirth.

I could still clearly sense his intense animosity towards Cassadin, emanating from his sharp, glowing eyes.

Ah, perhaps it might be difficult to offer my congratulations now.

Given that you two are no longer family, this consequently means that you will not be able to share the same household anymore or maintain the same closeness.

Joy seemed to gleam in Damians eyes, assuming a crescent shape, as he was seemingly pleased by that piece of information. As I furrowed my brow, Damian gently tucked my hair behind my ear, emulating what Cassadin had once done.

And he will no longer have the privilege of doing this.

I was so repulsed that I couldnt help but call out to Damian.

Your Grace.

Its merely a jest, Aren. No need to glare at me like that.

Damians hand, which had been stroking my hair, paused mid-stroke, and he cleared all emotions from his face. No longer wearing a smile, Damian uttered something profound, yet ambiguous.

Butterflies are commonly drawn to fragrant flowers. However, they are not always birdwings.

He stared at my face so intently that it made me feel uncomfortable. His face was expressionless, but thanks to my memories of the past, I could decipher Damians intentions as he glanced at me.

He wants to test me.

Among those who catch the scent of a flower, some may be harmless bumblebees, others dirty flies and also poisonous butterflies.

What does that mean?

I trust you, who have faithfully memorized all the scriptures of the Boundary of Good and Evil, understand my point.

Then, Damian smiled. He extended a hand toward my back and drew me into him. Judging by his pale face, I had assumed his strength was all but depleted, yet it seemed Damian had merely been concealing his strength.

As a result, I found myself entrapped in Damians hold.

What is the implication of this?

I struggled to escape Damians arms, but with a small laugh, Damian used his other arm to secure me even tighter.

Do you know of the poisonous butterfly called the Violo?

Pardon?

The violo, known for its high toxicity, typically sprays its poison onto flowers that are particularly fragrant. Do you know why?

Why did he suddenly start talking about a butterfly?

Your Grace.

I called out his name as a signal for him to stop, but he just kept uttering things I couldnt comprehend.

It does so because it cannot tolerate other butterflies or insects approaching the flower it cherishes.

The violo disperses its poison not only on the flower but also on its surroundings. Even if it means the flower wilts from its poison, it forbids other insects from coming near.

Wasnt that fascinating? Damian then quietly added on.

Im afraid Im too insensitive to understand why Your Grace is sharing this with me.

Damian burst out laughing at my comment. His continued hold on me was nauseating.

I did my best to squirm away from him, but Damian did not give an inch. It was hard to believe that someone who had just regained consciousness after collapsing could possess such strength.

It appears theyre arriving right on schedule.

His voice carried a hint of elation as he whispered softly, as though he had long anticipated this moment.

Is the man walking towards me with a death glare, a harmless butterfly or a deadly one like the violo?

As Damian suggested, a series of footsteps were drawing near in the corridor behind us.

Then the footsteps halted precisely behind me.

Almost simultaneously, as I turned my head towards the source of the sound, Damians voice, laced with amusement, echoed with a note of triumph.

Im betting on the latter.

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