The Concubine Does Not Love the Emperor - Chapter 4.2

Soldiers who appeared late broke through the crowd of onlookers and appeared. They alternated their gazes between the groaning thugs on the ground and Margaret, standing tall and composed. Margaret glanced at the soldiers approaching her and gestured to Ray, telling him to handle it.

Margaret  knew she couldn’t let herself be caught by the soldiers. The moment her identity was revealed, she would be headed straight for the underground prison. Margaret quickly turned around and slipped through the crowd of onlookers.

“Hey, stop right there!”

The soldiers who hurriedly chased after her were blocked by Ray.

“Move aside! Do you have something to do with this?”

Ray furrowed his brows lightly at the soldier’s aggressive words. Slowly, he raised his hands. Suddenly, elite soldiers in black attire appeared from somewhere and swiftly surrounded the soldiers.

“It’s a festival. Let’s pay attention to public order.”

Despite their gentle smiles, their voices were imposing. With no response, the elite soldiers took a step closer, pressuring the soldiers. Eventually, the surrounded soldiers looked at each other and reluctantly nodded, saying, “We understand.” Not noticing this exchange, Margaret ran for a while, distancing herself from the scene of violence.

After running for a certain distance, someone forcefully grabbed her shoulder. Margaret instantly and agilely grabbed the hand resting on her shoulder and swiftly plunged into their embrace. Despite the person being much larger than Margaret, she effortlessly lifted them with her entire back and forcefully threw them down. Thud!

“Ugh!”

The person screamed in pain as they collided with the ground. Margaret didn’t release her grip, and she was about to launch another attack when she hesitated.

“Ray?”

“Ugh… Uh…”

The man struggled to breathe and forcefully took deep breaths; his face contorted. Margaret quickly let go of the arm she had been holding.

“Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

“Ugh, I’m fine.”

Not knowing what had happened in the blink of an eye, Ray, who had been lifted, was unaware of the events that had unfolded. He had simply felt weightless for a moment before his body collided defenselessly with the ground.

Lying on the ground for a while, regulating his breathing, Ray suddenly burst into laughter. Margaret couldn’t help but worry that he had hit his head.

“Wow, what are you? You lifted me up.”

Whatever was amusing him, Ray laughed even louder, lying on the ground with his limbs spread out.

“It’s you.”

“Sorry.”

Before he could say anything, Margaret quickly apologized. Being chased had put her on edge. Despite everything, she had almost misjudged his intentions. Fortunately, she was unharmed, but if she had made a mistake, his spine and ribs could have been broken.

Ray, who had stopped laughing, stared at Margaret intently. Moonlight cast three-dimensional shadows on his face. She had initially thought he looked refined like a woman, but as he looked down at her, she realized he was a sharp and handsome man. The more she looked, the more fascinating his face became. Ray, who was staring intently at Margaret, let out another chuckle. His laughter was soft and faint.

“If you’re sorry, how about telling me your name?”

In that moment, Margaret hesitated. Should she tell him her given name, “Huram,” the Boroman-style name she received when she entered the harem? Or should she tell him her real name, “Margaret”? She was torn.

(There are so many good names! Why “Huram” of all names? It means “scar”! It seems Mohu didn’t like Margaret. )

Certainly, Gulle had said that. If that was the case, then “Huram” must not have been a common or ordinary name in Boroman.

“It’s Margaret. How can you get up?”

She hesitated for a moment, but on impulse, she revealed her real name. After all, she was a foreigner, so what difference did it make? Ray was probably already aware that she was a foreigner.

“Margaret. It’s a beautiful name.”