The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 118: She’s Leaving?

"Your Grace,

I write to inform you that I will be indisposed indefinitely from the moment this letter is received by you due to a personal crisis.

And as an unfortunate result of this, a new Cupbearer will have to be installed in my place.

I do regret having to send this to you at such a time.

If you do not consent to my untimely leave, I might consider letting your bride-to-be and your council know that the rumours they share amongst themselves every morning is true.

Your Cupbearer."

He tossed the letter on the table and dismissed the guard that had brought it.

Disposed indefinitely? Who did she think she was to decide that?

What sort of personal crisis was she going through? Or was this just a ploy to stop serving him?

He’d told himself that he would distance himself from her. But he wanted to know her reasons for sending such an abominable letter to him.

He rose from his seat and snatched the letter.

Along the hall, he met Andon and Eliza engaged in conversation. They waved to him as he walked past with his entourage of guards.

He knew she was in her room. Reports had told him that she’d been in her room since she had walked out of the council meeting the previous day.

Had she been ill? Or was she still upset?

He himself had been disappointed when she left so early. He had a lot planned out for her - and he could have asked her to remain, but he hadn’t.

After ascending the stairs to her tower, he stood in front of her door. Yeren could hear movements from within but no one came to open the door.

He held the knob of the door and turned it.

It opened.

The guard at her door nodded at him as he entered the room.

The corridor leading to the main chambers was short, shorter than the one he had in his own chambers. He had never been to the rooms on this side of the castle, not even by accident.

The amount of sunlight that flooded the room nearly blinded him. Most of his drapes were always drawn - no matter how much he loved to look at the sky.

He finally caught sight of her at the corner of the room. She was wearing a navy blue night gown, bending over a chest of clothes.

Her back was to him and the curve of her derriere was... interesting.

She was pressing her clothes into the chest and cursing under her breath. He almost laughed when she resorted to punching the garments just to ensure that they fitted into the chest.

She let out a very loud sigh when she finally closed the cloth chest.

"All done." She muttered and wiped sweat off her brow.

Then she turned around.

He was prepared for her reaction.

Her eyes widened and colour stained her cheeks.

And a bead of sweat chose that very moment to slide between her breasts. The very breasts that puckered as soon as her eyes fell on him.

A smirk threatened to curve his lips.

"What are you doing here?" She crossed her arms over the chest he’d just been admiring.

He held up the letter and waved it in front of her.

"This. This is what brought me here, Miss Stenly."

Her eyes hardened, but the colour in her cheeks remained.

"And what about it? I believe it was written in a simple, comprehensible language."

"Indeed. Indisposed indefinitely?"

"I expect you to understand what that means, Your Grace."

"I understand what it means to the letter, Miss Stenly. However, I cannot fathom your reasons for such a request."

"Because they are personal."

He stood where he was, refusing to breathe in her scent, refusing to trace her soft curves that were begging to be gripped with his eyes, refusing to look at those lips... those lips.

"Personal." He repeated the words as if it had a different meaning other than the one they both knew she was referring to.

Then his eyes darted back to the chest beside her.

Had she been packing? That made a lot of sense.

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere. I’m not going anywhere." But the stubborn jut of her jaw betrayed her.

She wanted to leave.

"Leave then. You won’t make it without me."

She moved closer, close enough that if he leaned down a few inches, he could press his lips against hers.

"I believe I can make it without a man who could believe without a second thought that I am capable of poisoning him. I gave up my chances of marriage for you and you think I would poison you? What would I gain from it? There’s nothing you can do for me at this point."

He felt everything in him tense.

"What if I had died? What would have happened - nothing? And you claim to want to protect me? I advise that you protect your bride-to-be instead."

She made to turn around but he grabbed her arm.

"I knew you wouldn’t die."

Her mouth parted slightly as her shock registered on her face.

"Leave my chambers." She said as soon as she recovered.

The urge to explain everything to her lingered at the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back.

"I expect you to serve wine this evening. And your duty will continue unless I say otherwise."

She raised an eyebrow.

"And what is your reason for declining my request?" Her tone was sharp.

"I have no need for any other Cupbearer."

"Because you’re not interested in another’s bed?" The accusation behind her words couldn’t be ignored.

A dry laugh escaped him.

"Indeed."

He noticed when her gaze lingered on his lips.

Then, blood dripped out of her left nostril.

She wiped it with the back of her hand immediately, her brows drawing together in confusion.

"What’s wrong?"

"I’m fine." She said after a while of enduring the thick and harsh silence.

"It’s not fine, Miss Stenly."

She pulled her arm out of his grasp and moved back to the corner she had been standing in.

"I expect you to arrive to serve wine in the evening and before noon on the morrow."

"And after that?" She asked.

She met his cold gaze.

"You keep serving me. But first, we have to talk about your attempt at blackmail, Miss Stenly."