Chapter 14

Elena’s wrist lay gently ensnared within Kennard’s large, powerful hand, rendering her incapable of movement. The contrast between their appearances was stark. Elena’s wrist appeared fragile, her translucent skin allowing her veins to peek through, while Kennard boasted a sun-kissed complexion with prominent veins tracing the back of his hand.

With delicate precision, Kennard’s calloused fingertips danced along the path of Elena’s exposed veins, leaving her trembling with an unexpected surge of warmth. The sensation was electrifying, sending a tingling ripple from her fingertips to her toes and causing her hair to stand on end. Gradually, Kennard’s touch ascended, moving from her wrist towards her elbow, eventually stopping just shy of her shoulder.

“Your Highness, why…” Elena began, attempting to free her arm from his gentle grasp, but Kennard’s grip remained unwavering. He applied no pressure, choosing instead to study her with his other hand.

In an instant, Elena’s breath caught in her throat, startled beyond words. Kennard’s hand encircled her neck, gently lifting her chin with his other hand. Elena’s head tilted backward, and her lips parted involuntarily. She tried to regain control, but Kennard’s fingers, once holding her chin, now lightly brushed her lower lip.

This sensation diverged from the embarrassment she’d felt earlier in the day when she’d opened her mouth in front of Serin. As Kennard peered into her mouth, Elena found herself at a loss, unsure of where to fix her gaze. Her body seemed to cringe with embarrassment and bewilderment, as if wishing to vanish into the earth beneath her.

Elena’s cheeks flushed like a delicate petal as she gazed at Kennard’s face, now so close that it seemed their breath might meld. His hazel eyes held an unusual depth, resembling the tranquil sea before a storm.

“Your Highness?” 

Kennard’s eyes, previously studying her mouth, lifted to meet her call. Their gazes intertwined in the air, and Kennard emitted an undeniable magnetism that seemed to envelop the surrounding atmosphere, casting a palpable weight upon it.

By this moment, Cura, who had been standing alongside Elena, was equally taken aback, her hand reaching for her forehead as she slumped in disbelief.

Elena, too, found herself in a dizzying haze, courtesy of Kennard’s potent pheromones, her vision clouded as if veiled by mist.

Desperately, she turned her gaze to Kennard, silently pleading for him to release his grip. Yet her regret was swift, as his hazel eyes blazed like a fire in the midst of a frigid forest, their intensity threatening to consume her.

Struggling to maintain her fading consciousness, Elena snapped her lips shut. The instant she did, her rigid body twitched in surprise.

With a rough, yet oddly gentle touch, Kennard’s hand traced down Elena’s chin and neck.

“Ah, Your Highness,” Elena’s voice quivered, her neck still ensnared in Kennard’s grasp, rendering it near impossible for her to turn her head.

Unrelenting, Kennard continued his exploration, descending past her collarbone and progressing toward her shoulder. As his touch descended, one side of Elena’s robe slipped down, revealing the delicate straps of her undergarment and the curve of her slender shoulders.

Though aware of the alluring silhouette that now lay exposed beneath the thin fabric of her undergarment, Elena found herself paralyzed by a crippling fear, unable to summon the courage to cover herself with her robe.

Her heart raced, threatening to burst from her chest, and her breath caught. Her entire body remained as unyielding as stone, and the world before her eyes seemed to blur into oblivion, to the point where she nearly forgot to breathe.

“Your Highness, please, that’s enough…” Elena pleaded with Kennard, the words escaping her lips taking all the strength she could muster. But she knew that if she allowed Kennard’s touch to persist, her body might not endure it much longer.

Yet, it was more than that. She was gripped by an inexplicable, paralyzing fear, its tendrils coiling around her like a tumultuous whirlwind.

Kennard maintained his unyielding gaze on Elena, his hand ensnaring her shoulders and neck. His eyes, as frigid as Terra Demorte’s unforgiving winter and as dark as the night sky, bore into her.

“This is maddening. I can’t believe you’re really here after all,” a voice muttered. Startled by the unexpected intrusion of a new voice, Elena turned toward the door. Serin, his hands clutching his waist, glared at Kennard and Elena with palpable anger.

“Why is it that so many guests are coming to my room today?” Elena wondered, her thoughts filled with bewilderment.

In that moment, the once-thick pheromones that had saturated the air began to wane.

“I distinctly said there was nothing going on,” Serin declared. “Did you really have to confirm it in person like this?”

Serin strode into the room, offering a hand to help Cura rise. “Are you okay?”

Cura nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Elena breathed a sigh of relief at Cura’s response. Gradually, color returned to Cura’s once-pale and lifeless face.

“Why did you come looking for me again?” Kennard inquired, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“You left in the middle of our conversation, so I had to chase after you,” Serin explained.

Kennard retrieved Elena’s fallen robe from under her shoulders, draping it in front of her to shield her from Serin’s view. As Serin narrowed his eyes in response, Elena couldn’t help but tense, and she tightly shut her eyes.

Elena could only hope for a swift resolution to this uncomfortable situation.

“Cura,” Kennard called suddenly.

Cura turned around in a start, her head lowered, upon hearing Kennard’s voice. She found Elena in Kennard’s arms and quickly followed suit, bowing her head.

Elena, too, yearned to escape the scrutinizing gazes in this mortifying situation.

“What are you waiting for? Arrange a guest bed for Elena, and today, you won’t go to your accommodation. Stay by Elena’s side,” Kennard commanded firmly.

Cura responded with a deep bow. “Yes, understood.”

Elena started to protest, “No, I’m fine, and as for Cura…”

“Your Highness!” Serin, even more taken aback than Elena, exclaimed sharply. Kennard’s furrowed brow turned toward Serin. Seizing the opportunity, Elena withdrew from Kennard’s hold, breathing a sigh of relief as she distanced herself.

“Is there a problem?” Serin approached. “Why are you suddenly bringing in a guest bed at this late hour? Is there a need for such a thing? Look, there’s nothing unusual, right?” He pointed at Elena, attempting to assert his perspective.

“I make the decisions here. I give the orders,” Kennard interrupted Serin without hesitation.

“But…” Serin attempted to argue further.

“Enough,” Kennard’s low, authoritative voice halted Serin in his tracks. Though he may have dared to dispute the duke, in that moment of perceiving impending danger, he opted for silence, his lips sealed.

Elena observed the two men in the brisk air, alternating her gaze between them, and a soft sigh escaped her lips. It was evident that this situation had arisen due to her, and there was no denying it.

“Your Highness, it may not be necessary to bring in a bed,” she ventured, hoping to alleviate the tension.

Kennard slowly turned his head to look at Elena. Though he remained silent, the raised eyebrow and the icy glint in his eyes made it abundantly clear that he was irritated by her suggestion.

Elena hurriedly gestured toward the bed where she had been staying. “It’s spacious enough for five people. What if Cura and I sleep there together?”

Cura, who had been trembling like a small animal before a predator, was taken aback and interjected, “What? But how can I…”

Elena inclined her head toward Cura and then returned her gaze to Kennard. “Wouldn’t it be easier to keep an eye on me even while sleeping if Cura is right next to me?” She watched with bated breath as Kennard turned to examine the bed.

“Alright, do that,” Kennard agreed, turning back to Elena, his gaze now softened.

“Ugh, seriously, what is this…” Serin muttered with a sigh, running a rough hand through his silver-streaked brown hair, clearly perplexed by the unfolding situation. 

***

The snowfall had ceased, but the bone-chilling cold still permeated their very beings. Even in the hush of the night, their breaths billowed white in the frigid air.

In the darkness, Kennard, clad in full hunting gear, stood out mainly by the gleam in his hazel eyes. He was perched on a rock near the marsh, periodically glancing back. The presence he had sensed from behind didn’t appear to bother him much.

Serin, who had silently tagged along for the midnight hunt, leaned against another rock, meticulously sharpening his sword with a piece of cloth. The thick layer of snow beneath them felt like a plush carpet.

Kennard, unable to contain his irritation any longer, muttered, “If you’re just going to stand there, why did you follow me for the hunt?”

Serin shrugged, looking up as he noticed Kennard’s gaze. “I’m hunting today as well. I was getting frustrated,” he replied, echoing their previous conversation in the tower’s attic.

Kennard raised an eyebrow upon hearing Serin mimic him, his irritation evident in his expression. “Annoying,” he muttered, prompting Serin’s lips to twitch as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

“If you have something to say, say it,” Kennard urged.

“I’m the one who’s truly annoyed,” Serin began to grumble, as though he had been waiting for this moment.

Kennard’s agitation grew as he sensed his precious alone time being disrupted, especially with Serin’s complaints added to the mix. “So, what do you want?”