I Helped The Imprisoned Male Lead And He Became Obsessed - Chapter 81

Several days had passed since Emilian arrived in Petra. He seemed to have no intention of returning to the imperial palace anytime soon and had effectively settled in this remote village.

The three-story stone mansion, crowned with an emerald-green roof, stood out as a rare and opulent sight in Petra. It was still a mystery why such a lavish house had been built in this secluded countryside or by whom.

Regardless, the news of Emilian residing there took the villagers by surprise.

“Did you hear? The nobleman living in that mansion—he’s none other than the famous transcendent Emilian, the one who ended the Seven Years’ War!”

“What? Why would someone so renowned come to a remote village like this?”

“Who knows? But Mr. Brown, who delivered meat to the mansion, said it was for some kind of mission.”

“If he’s come all the way out here, it must be something really important.”

I overheard the villagers chatting as I shopped for groceries at the store. Placing fresh eggs, fruit, and cheese into my basket, I couldn’t help but think:

Could the mission Emilian mentioned be to keep me from running away?

After all, hadn’t he said he’d tracked me all the way to this place?

After paying for my groceries, I left the store and passed by Emilian’s mansion on my way home. The morning sunlight struck the marble columns of the building, scattering into a dazzling white glow.

How long did he plan to stay here?

Even though the war was over, numerous forces both within and outside the empire still sought to exploit its weaknesses. But with Emilian around, they dared not make a move. They had all witnessed how he had utterly crushed the Allied Forces during the Seven Years’ War.

He ought to be by His Majesty’s side, protecting the empire.

Though I felt I should persuade him to return to the imperial palace as soon as possible, the memory of what he had done to me that day made it impossible to even consider seeking him out.

That evening, the children, tired from playing outside all day, fell asleep early after dinner. Once I ensured they were tucked in soundly and had stoked the fire generously in the hearth, I went downstairs to the first floor.

Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door.

Who could it be at this hour?

The pharmacy had closed long ago. Approaching the door, I called out, “Who is it?” A concise answer came back.

“It’s me.”

It was Emilian’s voice. My hand froze on its way to the doorknob.

After a moment of hesitation, I opened the door to find Emilian standing there in uniform. The evening moonlight faintly illuminated him, casting a gentle glow over his figure. As the wind blew, I pulled the shawl over my shoulders tightly.

“What brings you here?” I asked.

He smiled. “Do I need a reason to visit you?”

“Well, no, but…”

The truth was, I still found it uncomfortable to face him. However, he hadn’t come with ill intent, and I couldn’t exactly turn him away at the door.

As I stepped aside to let him in, Emilian walked into the house, his gaze sweeping over the quiet interior, broken only by the crackling of the firewood in the hearth.

“The children are asleep?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” I replied instinctively, before realizing something strange.

“How did you know I had children with me?”

“People told me. Apparently, Anise, you’ve been caring for orphans of the war.”

It wasn’t surprising. In a village this small, news traveled fast, and someone had likely mentioned it to Emilian.

“I’ll make us some tea. Wait here for a moment,” I said, gesturing toward the sofa before heading to the kitchen.

I had bought some bergamot tea leaves not long ago, but where had I put them?

The shelves were lined with jars of sugar, salt, and spices. Stretching onto my tiptoes, I reached deep into the cabinet. Just as I strained to grab the jar, I felt a hand reach past me from behind, swiftly pulling the glass jar from the shelf.

Turning, I saw Emilian, who had quietly approached. He handed me the jar of tea leaves.

Caught off guard, I took it from him and murmured, “Ah… thank you.”

Emilian stared at me silently for a moment before shifting his gaze. On the metal shelf next to the countertop, neatly arranged plates, forks, and knives for several people caught his attention. He looked at them briefly and then spoke.

“Those children… How did you end up taking care of them?”

“Ah, um…”

I thought back to my first encounter with the children. Not sure how he would react if I told the whole truth, I decided to mix a bit of truth with a hint of fabrication.

“They had been secretly living in this house… I just couldn’t bring myself to kick them out.”

“So you decided to care for them out of pity?”

“Well… They had nowhere else to go. I couldn’t just ignore them.”

Emilian said nothing for a while. The silence was broken only by the occasional chirping of crickets outside the window. Finally, he spoke.

“I see. You pitied them, so you decided to take good care of them.”

His voice sank, deep and heavy, like the lightless depths of the ocean.

“Just like you did with me.”

I froze, as though an invisible chain had locked me in place.

“I should have realized sooner that all I ever was to you was an object of pity.”

“…”

I turned to look at him. His crimson eyes were as cold and unrelenting as the biting winds of a winter storm.

Was he regretting that he had once cared for me?

The thought hit me like a weight, making it difficult to breathe, as though I were drowning. I bit down lightly on the inside of my cheek.

It hadn’t been pity. Maybe it had started that way, but the feelings had changed over time.

I had admired him—not because I pitied him, but because I was weak. Despite all the pain he endured, he remained unbroken, and I wanted to be like that. I admired his unyielding strength, something I lacked.

But I couldn’t let myself be honest about my feelings. If he didn’t go to Serena, he would continue to suffer the aftereffects of the experiments.

I swallowed the words I could never say aloud. The idea that his heart might no longer be with me was strangely unbearable.

Forcing myself to change the subject, I said, “What about your treatment with Lady Serena? Why did you come here instead of seeing her?”

At the mention of Serena’s name, Emilian’s demeanor sharpened. A distinct displeasure flickered in his eyes.

“I’ll never see Serena again. Don’t bring up her name in front of me.”

The coldness in his voice startled me, and my eyes widened.

“Did something happen between you and Lady Serena?”

“That’s not something you need to know.”

It was clear that something had happened, but he didn’t seem inclined to share.

Whenever I mentioned getting treatment from Serena, Emilian always seemed irritated, though he never openly expressed negative feelings about her.

Now, his sharp reaction made me wonder if something significant had occurred between them, something that had irreparably damaged their relationship.

“What really happened?” I pressed again.

“It’s better if you don’t know,” Emilian replied curtly.

Even after my repeated questioning, he refused to tell me. Realizing I had no way of finding out right now, I reluctantly decided to let the matter rest for the time being.

I glanced out the window. The twilight sky had turned completely dark, and the faint chirping of insects crept softly into the silence.

“It’s late. Finish your tea and head back,” I said, offering him the cup of tea as he sat on the sofa near the fireplace.

He looked at me with an unreadable expression.

“Does being in the same space as me suffocate you now?”

“That’s not what I meant,” I answered quickly.

He crossed his long legs and leaned back, his voice laced with mock disappointment. “I came all the way to this remote place to find you, and this is how you treat me?”

Fidgeting with the teacup in my hands, I finally broached the subject that had been weighing on my mind.

“Have you thought about returning to the imperial palace?”

Emilian’s gaze remained fixed on the flames dancing in the fireplace.

“That’s what I wanted to ask you,” he said. “How long do you plan on staying here?”

Predictably, my answer came without hesitation.

“I have no intention of going back.”

“Is that so? Then it seems we’re of the same mind on at least one thing.”

Lately, talking to Emilian felt like speaking to a wall. His words were as impenetrable as stone.

I shook my head slightly and fell silent, not wanting to argue. Avoiding conflict with him only deepened the quiet tension between us.

Uncomfortable with the silence, I stood and went to the kitchen, intending to refill my cup.

The soft bubbling of the tea kettle filled the air as the subtle aroma of orange mingled with the steam. Pouring myself a fresh cup, I returned to the living room.

The fire crackled softly, the only sound breaking the stillness.

Emilian was leaning against the armrest of the sofa, his eyes closed. His exhaustion was apparent in the faint shadows beneath his eyes. Judging by the fact that he hadn’t changed out of his uniform, he must have had a long day.

His breathing was steady and even.

“Emil, are you asleep?” I asked quietly.

“…”

No response came.

I placed the teacup down gently on the table, careful not to disturb the rare peace that had settled over the room.

“He must be really tired,” I thought. Perhaps the warmth of the fire had lulled him into a deep, drowsy state. Even as I moved closer, Emilian didn’t stir.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen his sleeping face.

His head was tilted slightly to one side, and his sleek black hair fell across his profile, partially obscuring it. Convinced he was fast asleep, I found myself reaching out without thinking.

My fingers brushed against his hair gently, and its soft texture wrapped around them.

I used to stroke his hair like this often when we were younger.

Would it have been better if all I’d ever felt for you was pity?

If that were the case, I wouldn’t feel this torment—the ache of emotions slipping through my control no matter how hard I tried to suppress them.

Even though we were physically close, my heart felt like it was miles away from his.

I drew my hand back, letting the fleeting connection slip away. I couldn’t bring myself to wake him, so I bent down to fetch a blanket to drape over him.

But just as I straightened, a strong hand grabbed my wrist.

Startled, I lost my balance and leaned forward—only to find myself face-to-face with Emilian.

His hand gripped my wrist firmly, and the firelight made his crimson eyes gleam with a heat that rivaled the flames behind me.

He wasn’t asleep.

Caught off guard, I looked up at him in confusion. His breath brushed against me, the closeness sending ripples through my chest as my heartbeat quickened.

Thump, thump. I worried he might hear the sound, so loud it seemed to echo in the quiet room. Instinctively, I tried to pull away, but he wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me securely as he whispered.

“Don’t go, Anise.”

I couldn’t find the words to respond.

But his next words sent a shiver through me, making my gaze falter.

“Even if all you feel for me is pity, that’s enough.”