Chapter 13

Tension, fear, and excitement intertwined and fermented in the air. His arm wrapped tightly around my waist, forcefully invading my mouth. His lips and tongue felt like they were coated with a drug; after just a few seconds of kissing, my head started to feel dizzy. After a minute, my hands were too weak to lift.

“Bang—”

Another loud noise and the whole bed shook. The group cursed, “What kind of wood is this? Why is it so sturdy…”

“Seems like white oak, the axe’s nemesis.”

“What should we do? Should we take the whole bed?”

I was startled, instinctively pushing Lambert away and looking outside.

These people’s greed was beyond my imagination. It wasn’t enough to chop off the gold-plated bed legs; they even wanted to take the entire bed. How did they plan to move such a large bed?

My chin hurt as Lambert gripped it with two fingers, forcefully turning my head back. He seemed very unhappy, exuding a cold aura. His scorching breath hit my face, clearly audible.

“—What was that sound?” someone noticed and asked warily.

I looked at Lambert helplessly. He squinted at me coldly, his expression accusatory, as if saying: “How dare you push me away?”

I put my finger to my lips, signaling him to be quiet: “Shh.” His eyes were bloodshot, and he stared at my finger without blinking. Instead of calming down, he let out a heavy, growling breath as if provoked.

I was completely at a loss and could only wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again. Sure enough, only kissing could calm him down. After a while, his aggressive agitation disappeared, and he wrapped his arm around my waist again, burying his head in my neck, nuzzling affectionately.

…

I was extremely helpless. I gently patted his back while carefully listening to the sounds outside, not daring to relax for a moment.

“What sound? Did you hear wrong?”

“No, I definitely didn’t hear wrong… There’s something else in this house besides us.”

“Do you think that giant python might be hiding under the bed?”

This statement not only made me tense, but the entire atmosphere in the basement became eerie. Looking out from under the bed, I saw many people picking up tools and sneaking toward the bed with axes, wooden sticks, and sharpened hoes…

They couldn’t chop through the bed, but they could flip it over and kill us. No, only I would be killed.

Even though I knew holding my breath wouldn’t help, I was so nervous that I didn’t dare to breathe, crouching and ready to roll back to avoid any incoming attack.

Rough hands grabbed the edge of the bed. Maybe in the next second, we would be exposed. Never had I been this tense. What would happen to Lambert if we were discovered? What would happen to me?

The tension reached a point where it felt like a fuse had been lit in the air, ready to explode with unpredictable consequences. My clothes were soaked with sweat, but I didn’t dare show any sign of it, fearing Lambert would sense something was wrong and attack them first.

What to do, what to do?
Why did I have to face such a situation?

When I was at a loss, a calm male voice sounded: “What are you doing here?” A pair of pure white boots entered my view. Unlike the rough shoes around, these boots were made of tanned goatskin, exquisitely crafted with smooth and neat lines. Below the knees were two golden lion emblems.

It was Ulysses.
Why was he here?

A voice answered, “Your Highness, we suspect the giant python is hiding under the bed…”

“Is that so,” Ulysses said indifferently, “Is the python also hiding in the sugar jar and the comb?”

The entire basement fell silent. Everyone stood still, not daring to breathe or argue. Ulysses put on white gloves, gripped his knight’s sword, and commanded, “Put everything back where it belongs, then get out.”

The lure of gold was too strong; a minute passed, and no one moved.

After a while, someone dared to ask, “Didn’t Your Highness say the giant python is in this castle? If it’s the python’s castle, why should we put things back—”

I realized that Ulysses’ imposing presence was only overshadowed by Lambert. Among ordinary people, his presence was terrifying, like a dark cloud pressing down: “When did I say this is the python’s castle?”

His casual retort silenced everyone, “This is royal territory. Dare to take royal property, don’t want to live?”

Hearing the threat to their lives, the group scattered like birds and beasts.

I thought Ulysses would leave, too, but after everyone left, he still stood there, seemingly waiting for something.

Did he know we were hiding under the bed? If he knew, why did he help us? Didn’t he spread the rumor about Lambert being a giant python to see Lambert being hunted?

My mind was in chaos, with dozens of thoughts flashing through. At the same time, Ulysses spoke, “Your companions have left. Why are you still here?”

Did he think I was one of them? Thinking this, I calmed down. For some reason, Lambert wasn’t wary of Ulysses’ voice, casually glanced outside the bed, and then buried his head back in my neck.

If Lambert and I go out now, will Ulysses call the villagers over and punish us like heretics, sending us to the stake? Given his hatred for Lambert, it’s highly likely. I can’t let Lambert appear in front of him.

Thinking this, I pushed Lambert away, pressed my finger to his lips, and shook my head, whispering, “Don’t make a sound.”

Suddenly pushed away, he looked sullen, his expression sour, and I wasn’t sure if he understood. I had to lift his chin, making him look at my mouth, and continued whispering, “Don’t make a sound, and don’t go out.”

Just this wouldn’t make him listen. Sure enough, his gaze stayed on my lips, but his expression grew heated and intense. This clearly wasn’t the expression of someone reading my lips. I was speechless.

Meanwhile, Ulysses spoke again, “If you don’t come out, don’t blame me for being rude.”

Under heavy pressure, I had no choice but to use the same trick, wrapping my arms around Lambert’s neck and kissing him hard. I remember the first time I kissed him, I was terrified and shy, my heart pounding so hard I couldn’t sleep that night. Who knew that after a month, I would become so skilled?

After the kiss, Lambert’s attention was much more focused. I took the opportunity to repeat my request. He thoughtfully pointed to his lips, probably thinking one kiss wasn’t enough and wanting another. I looked at him expressionlessly, thinking we might as well go to the stake together. He understood my refusal, sulking and shrinking back, ignoring me.

At that moment, Ulysses, impatient from waiting, strode over to grab me. I quickly crawled out from under the bed, raising my hands, saying, “I’m coming out, I’m coming out!”

“It’s you.” A hint of surprise flashed in Ulysses’ eyes, and his voice softened, “The blooming rose. Do you remember me?”

My name indeed means “blooming rose,” but being called that felt a bit awkward. I lowered my head and nodded, “I remember… You said you were a royal guard.”

“Let me reintroduce myself,” he said with a smile, “I am Ulysses, the prince of the northern kingdom.”

I dryly replied, “Greetings, Your Highness.”

He smiled without responding. I hesitated, wondering if he was waiting for me to curtsy. I didn’t know the difference between a royal curtsy and a regular one. If I made a mistake, would he be angry?

I was awkward and nervous, not knowing where to put my hands. It wasn’t just because I didn’t know how to curtsy, but also because of Lambert under the bed. What if, while we were talking, he suddenly popped out to kiss me? That would be a hundred times more embarrassing than now.

“You seem very afraid of me,” Ulysses noticed my discomfort, but unlike Lambert, he didn’t leave me space to be alone. Instead, he took a few steps closer, “Why?”

With nowhere to retreat, I could only sit on the bed, “Your Highness has a noble status. It’s normal for a commoner like me to fear Your Highness’s presence…”

He placed one hand beside me, and upon hearing my words, he chuckled softly, “Even if you’re a commoner, you’re a commoner more beautiful than a princess. Do you remember the first time we met? I said you were more beautiful than the roses here. Dear Miss Rose.”

I felt a chill down my spine, “Just call me Rosa.”

“Rosa.” He lifted my chin with his thumb and forefinger, “Can you tell me why someone as beautiful as you would engage in theft?”

He pointed to the cloak on my shoulders and the boots on my feet, “These, these, don’t look like things you could afford.”

My heart skipped a beat, and my palms began to sweat.

Oh no. How should I explain this?

Ulysses looked down at me, “Theft can be a minor or major crime. Stealing from the royal family, however, is punishable by death. Miss Rosa, what do you think?”

Perhaps it was the numerous shocks I had experienced today, or maybe it was his resemblance to Lambert, but facing his interrogation, I only felt nervous, not in danger or afraid.

“I…” My mind raced, “Don’t understand what Your Highness means.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“Your Highness and I both know this castle has no giant python. Yet, Your Highness deliberately led the angry villagers here, allowing them to break down the castle doors and loot. Now, you say this is royal territory, and they can’t touch royal property. Your Highness, what are your feelings towards the owner of this castle?”

From his conversations with Lambert, it was clear he was easily angered and would leave in a rage. But I forgot one thing: he only left because his conversation partner was Lambert. With me, a commoner with no relation to him, hitting his sore spot would only lead to my doom.

Realizing this was too late. Ulysses’ expression changed, and he quickly drew his knight’s sword, pointing it at me, asking darkly, “How much do you know?”

My neck hurt as the blade cut my skin.

“I…” I bit my tongue in frustration, quickly thinking of how to remedy the situation. In a flash, a dark shadow passed before my eyes. I didn’t see what happened, but Ulysses was suddenly kicked in the chest, flying back and hitting the stone wall of the basement. His knight’s sword clattered to the ground.

Lambert stood in front of me, eyes narrowed, glaring fiercely at Ulysses. His fingers, arms, and back were tense like an animal ready to strike.