The End of Your Arrogance - Chapter 27.1

Evelyn took a sip of the gleaming green liquid and let out a small gulp.

“That’s strong,” Ilya commented. “You won’t be able to get up tomorrow.”

“I was going to say the same thing,” Evelyn replied with a pout. “My legs are hurting.”

Ilya chuckled. “What were you thinking, sleeping like that?”

Evelyn simply stared at him, smiling, as his laughter faded. His blue eyes softened, and his lips relaxed from their tight line into a boyish grin.

“What’s with the look?” Ilya asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” Evelyn replied, shaking her head. She drew her knees up to her chest on the couch.

Ilya placed the glass upon the table and sank onto the spacious couch beside Evelyn. He draped his arm around her shoulder, feeling her body tense beneath his touch. “The Countess Glenn has been bullying me,” he muttered, his tone grumpy.

Evelyn lifted her head, her expression a mask of concern. “Your aunt, Your Highness?” she queried.

Ilya smirked at her reaction. “She has been forcing strange women into my bedchamber, depriving me of a decent night’s sleep,” he said with a sardonic laugh.

Evelyn understood then that this was the present Aunt Celis had spoken of earlier.

“Can you not do anything for your poor husband, who is treated like a stallion?” Ilya asked, his tone plaintive.

Evelyn squirmed in his embrace, before looking up at him with a determined expression. “I promised to make you a hundred whales, and I shall keep that promise,” she said firmly.

Ilya bent over with laughter, and Evelyn gazed upon him in wonder. She felt as though she were in a dream, unable to believe that he would ever laugh at her. Alas, what if this is a dream? she thought to herself, feeling a surge of joy. I am so happy.

“Let’s go to bed,” Evelyn whispered.

There was a moment of stillness before Ilya replied, “As you wish, my wife.”

He picked her up and carried her to bed, where they settled side by side against the bedhead. Suddenly, the room began to shake, and the sound of waves caught their ears. The bedpost transformed into a pillar and shot through the ceiling, revealing a white cloth that billowed out like a sail.

Ilya gazed at the scene in amazement, murmuring, “It’s a sail. The bed has turned into a boat.”

The ceiling disappeared and the starry night sky unfolded before them. The boat swayed on the rough seas of the night, and Ilya held Evelyn tightly in his arms. The wild waves, the unsteady boat, and the woman in his embrace made him drunker.

“I would like another drink,” Evelyn said, peering up at Ilya with a flush on her cheeks. Ilya reached out and held the glass in his hand. Evelyn’s expression twisted as she watched him down the drink.

“That’s cruel… Ugh!”

Her words trailed off as Ilya forcibly captured her lips with one hand holding the back of her head. The drink she couldn’t swallow spilled from her lips and into her mouth. Evelyn clung to his arm, half-risen, as their hot saliva mixed and his sensuous tongue explored every inch of her mouth.

Under the weight of his pressing body, her body eventually fell back.

She looked up blankly at her husband’s face, his white skin blazing with heat. Evelyn raised her hand to caress his rugged face involuntarily, and he took a deep, rough breath before lowering his face again.

Water dripped from Ilya’s hair as he gritted his teeth and muttered, “Those damn whales, really.”

Evelyn was also wet, giggling beside him.

“Look, Ilya.”

Evelyn’s voice carried a note of awe as she pointed towards the sea. Ilya turned his gaze and was met with a breathtaking sight. The white whales, glowing under the starlight, were leaping out of the water, creating splashes before disappearing back into the sea.

“I’m sleepy,” Evelyn whispered, her words slurred from the alcohol. Soon, her breathing became even as she fell into a deep slumber.

As the whales disappeared and the ship with its massive sail faded away, the turbulent waves slowly subsided. The magic of the fairy tale was coming to an end, and soon, Ilya too was enveloped in a peaceful, eternal sleep.

* * *

“Your Highness, what are your thoughts on the handling of the Mandrake?” asked Nazz, addressing the silent Ilya. The room was filled with discussions regarding the safekeeping of the recently obtained Mandrake. Nazz shook his head as he stared at Ilya, who had been only touching his lips since the beginning of the meeting.

“Your Highness, will you concentrate now?”

“Where were we?” Ilya asked, snapping out of his reverie.

Nazz patiently repeated what had just been discussed. Ilya listened intently and then offered his solution. “Half of the Mandrake can be stored in the tower, and the rest can be placed in the underground warehouse of the Tower of Penance,” he said firmly.

Rene nodded in agreement, clapping her hands in excitement. “That’s a great idea, the basement warehouse of the Tower of Penance,” she exclaimed.

“Rene, are you familiar with the entrance to the basement of the Tower of Penance?” Ilya asked, his voice serious and urgent.

“Yes, I am.” Rene replied confidently.

“Do you think it’s possible to transfer the Mandrake there with magic?” Ilya pressed further.

Rene hesitated for a moment, considering the limitations of magic inside the Tower of Penance. The tower was built to protect the archduke’s bloodline, fortified with layers of defensive magic and sorcery, making it nearly impossible for even the greatest wizards to wield their powers within its walls.

“I believe it is possible,” Rene said resolutely. “I will make sure it gets done.”