Chapter 4
While by My Side
2023.08.04.
Lowell’s eyes widened, taking in every detail of the man before her. Pale platinum-blonde hair falling loosely across his forehead, cold sapphire-blue eyes. Even with such light colors, his gloomy and fierce aura could not be hidden.
All of those descriptions pointed to only one person.
Peter. Her childhood friend. Her only lingering regret.
But why on earth was Peter here?
Confused, Lowell staggered forward. Her hands, which had been clutching at her skirt, had long lost their strength. Like someone fumbling through darkness, she stretched out her hand toward him blankly. Of course, the only exit from that darkness was the man before her—Peter.
But Lowell could not escape the darkness. Just as her hand was about to reach him, the man seized it roughly. Seeing him up close only sharpened her certainty.
“…Peter.”
It had to be him. It couldn’t be anyone else. Even if his frame had become sturdier and his features had changed, nothing was more certain than the instinct of her body.
She didn’t need to study each feature one by one—she knew. The man before her was undoubtedly Peter.
In the instant that joy surged across Lowell’s dark eyes at this unexpected reunion—
“Do they teach you how to act, now?”
A cold sneer snapped her out of it. She tore herself away from the boy in her memories. The man before her was still gripping her wrist, mocking her icily.
“Black hair, black eyes. I didn’t believe it when I heard. Never thought they’d bring someone so similar.”
So similar, it’s sickening.
Muttering that, he flung her aside. His strength hadn’t been overwhelming, but because she was caught off guard, Lowell tumbled helplessly onto the bed. Thanks to the thickly layered skirts padded by the maids, there was no pain—but her disheveled state was obvious.
And the man standing over her was clearly enjoying it.
He stepped closer and seized Lowell’s chin, forcing it up.
Those blue eyes, cold and sharp as if they could slice through her, were savage and frigid.
“Speak. What else did they tell you when they threw you at me?”
“…What—”
“When you dared to show me that face, you must have had a purpose. Did they tell you to seduce me? To cry and call me Peter so I’d lift your skirts?”
His tone seemed calm on the surface, but Lowell could feel the suppressed fury underneath. She also knew the name of the emotion in those eyes staring her down.
Murderous intent.
“Did you think I wouldn’t kill you?”
“…Yes.”
If she didn’t answer, she would die. And Lowell had already anticipated something like this. Naturally, she had prepared her reply.
“You… need me.”
The emperor’s brow furrowed. His grip on her chin tightened, but Lowell pressed on resolutely.
“I heard you’ve already reached your limit… That if it goes any further, it’ll be hard to keep your sanity…”
Her breath quivered. Facing such raw killing intent up close was not easy, even for her. All the more so because she knew her words struck at his sorest nerve.
There were two well-known facts about the Velfonderayen imperial line.
First, that they carried the blood of dragons.
Though dragon blood flowed within them, their outward appearance was little different from ordinary humans.
The problem lay in the second fact.
That blood carried madness. An abnormal reaction caused by non-dragons inheriting dragon blood.
And there was only one way to quell that madness: by finding a mate.
Without a mate to obsessively cling to, the madness would eventually consume them.
The living proof of this was the current emperor, Peter Velfonderayen Velf.
He had long refused to take a mate. Because of that, it had become an open secret among high nobility that the emperor suffered bouts of mania. When word spread that the emperor was finally seeking a bride, all the nobility went on high alert.
If the emperor failed to find a mate—or something close to it—he truly would go insane.
Understanding Lowell’s implication, the emperor let out a short laugh.
“So, that’s why I should spare you? There are plenty of women.”
“But few who match my conditions.”
The reason he had chosen madness over finding a mate all this time—
The emperor’s first love, now dead, had black hair and black eyes.
No one knew what kind of person she truly was or how she had died, but it was widely known that she had possessed that rare black coloring.
“Only I… can calm Your Majesty’s madness.”
“…Ha.”
The emperor chuckled shortly. He released Lowell, his lips twisting into a bitter smile, before slowly moving toward the bed.
“Fine. If you want to use a dead woman to deceive me that badly, I’ll play along.”
Though his face smiled, it was clear he wasn’t in the least amused. His voice came out rough and dangerous as he pushed Lowell back onto the bed.
“Open your mouth. I’ll give you what you want.”
“Wait—”
Lowell’s hurried protest was cut short. His lips crushed hers, devouring them with brutal force. Shock parted her lips, and his intrusion forced its way inside.
Rene’s warning—that she’d have to endure the emperor’s fury—proved true. Lowell couldn’t close her eyes for even a second. His sharp nose pressed against hers, his searing breath, his gripping hands—every sensation hammered at her mind.
No danger she had faced in life had ever awakened her instincts like this. No lure of death had ever been this sweet, no hardship ever this suffocating.
This was the line her instincts screamed not to cross. If she let go of that thread, she’d be swept away like sand in the tide. Realizing this, Lowell shoved the emperor away. Strangely, as if the closeness just before had been an illusion, he released her lips without resistance.
“They didn’t train you properly. I’m no pervert aroused by women who resist.”
His hand pressed against her lips, now red and swollen from the rough kiss.
“Isn’t this what you wanted? If you came to deceive me, do it properly. I’m offering to play along.”
Behaving like this—what could it mean but that she was begging to be killed?
Then he hurled her down onto the bed again. Looking down with contempt, he sneered.
“They picked a good doll this time.”
The mockery was clear: she wasn’t even a person, just a toy to be played with and discarded.
An ordinary person might have felt humiliation at such treatment—or quaked in terror under his killing intent, weeping.
But Lowell remained calm. No, more than that—she was glad.
From the start, what she truly wanted was not mere survival.
…This is enough.
She hadn’t immediately pushed him away when their lips met only because she needed to be sure. Was this man really not Peter? Was it only her mistake?
The conclusion came faster than she expected.
There’s no way this man could be Peter.
The Peter she had loved—and who had loved her more than anyone—was a boy who smiled easily at a single flower. A boy who, despite his cynical look, trailed after her every step, who thought brushing her hair was his happiness.
Just remembering him lightened her heart. When life became unbearable, she would recall him under the blazing sun, clinging to that memory like a lifeline.
If that Peter were the same as the emperor before her—
…I’d kill him.
She could never forgive it.
For ten years, Peter had never once come back for her.
Peter, who never returned—and the Hessen family, slaughtered by imperial hands the moment he left.
Could those two things really be entirely unrelated?
Somehow, Peter was connected to the fire that consumed the Hessen estate.
And still, he shamelessly keeps silent, living on.
The moment she realized that, a scorching fury surged from her gut.
The only memory that had kept Lowell alive, that had allowed her to remain herself, turned into a blade that cut her to pieces. It took only the blink of an eye for longing to curdle into betrayal.
If the emperor before her truly were Peter, even such a faint assumption inflamed her with rage.
Unforgivable.
So the emperor could not be Peter.
His reaction to the nickname “Peter,” his search for a woman with black hair and eyes—none of it could have anything to do with her. He had to be nothing more than her enemy, the one she resented, the one she must kill.
She could not allow the only light she had clung to in order to survive to be tainted. Please, not that…
“While you’re by my side, you are Lowell.”
At those words, something heavy dropped deep inside her.
