TCCIO 27

Chapter 27. You’ll Soon Forget
“It’s not too late yet.”

She had to turn it back—before it was too late. She had to rewind everything to before she knew that burning-hot man. He still remembered who she was. Delia summoned the last of her strength as the princess of Eorenti and poured it into her sword, striking with full force.

“Ugh!”

Her swift and agile attack forced the Imperial soldier to grit his teeth and retreat. He barely blocked her strike with the barrel of his gun, but Delia’s attacks didn’t relent. As if trying to shake off his lingering touch from her body. As if trying to erase her own memories of him. Her sword showed no mercy. The relentless onslaught caused one of the soldiers to lose his footing and stagger. Now was the time. Delia struck precisely through the gap, aiming straight for his throat.

“Please stop.”

The sword aimed at the soldier’s neck was halted by someone else. Dike, the deputy adjutant who had rushed in, stopped Delia by grabbing the blade with his bare hand.

“Let go.”

Delia tried to yank the sword free from his grasp, but he had such a firm hold that the blade didn’t budge. She looked down at her sword—no, at Dike’s bleeding hand. Blood from his wounded palm ran down the edge of the blade. The more strength Delia applied, the more the blood flowed. It was clear as blood itself—his determination not to harm her even if it meant injuring himself.

“Then attack me. Just kill me instead.”

Even as Delia commanded him, Dike only held the blade tighter, refusing to let her proceed. She was suffocating. This wasn’t how captives were normally treated. She was stabbing, attacking—and yet no one retaliated. She hadn’t expected such passivity to feel this eerie and threatening.

“This is enough.”

She could have killed them. She could have died. Her ragged breaths stirred the air as strands of her hair danced around her face. Blood drops stained her shirt red. Her blue eyes flashed crimson, mirroring the red glow of the sunset.

“Return to the Commander.”

Delia glared daggers at Dike for foiling her plans. Return to him? Did he not understand what she had resolved to escape from? She looked around like a wounded beast, panting in despair. The Imperial soldiers had formed a barrier around her. They didn’t attack her—but neither did they make way. The formation was too tight to slip through, yet distant enough not to touch her. They simply surrounded her and watched, like a sturdy cage for a captured beast. No matter how she struggled, she only hurt herself inside those bars. Her plan to die in battle had failed. She couldn’t fight if no one struck back. She couldn’t even die on her own terms. Realizing this, Delia lost all strength in her hands. As she released the sword, Dike took it from her. Her arms fell limp like those of a corpse. She had failed at assassination, at escape, even at a noble death—refused even that by the enemy. With each failure, with each reminder of her helplessness, the word despair carved itself deeper into her. With blank eyes, Delia slowly closed her lids.

“Princess.”

A soft whisper of the devil caressed her ear, warming her world that had gone dark. Aaron had approached at some point and draped a cloak around her. He gently wrapped his arms around her unmoving body. The very touch she had tried so hard to shake off now bound her firmly again. As if this outcome had been inevitable, Aaron didn’t rush.

“It’s painful now, but you’ll get used to it.”

Get used to what? Life trapped in a cage? A life forsaking her family and country? Questions filled her mind, but she had no will left to voice them.

“If you just stay by my side, I’ll give you a beautiful paradise.”

The devil’s whisper of paradise sank into her ears. Resistance was meaningless. Like a puppet with its strings cut, Delia let Aaron’s gentle hands take hold. Trapped not by iron bars, but by a stronger, firmer embrace. Aaron carefully lifted her limp body and whispered sweetly,

“So forget Eorenti.”

Aaron looked at Delia, now asleep in his arms. Her eyelids were tightly shut, long lashes trembling faintly under the light. Her sweet breath passed through the glimmering glow tracing down the slope of her nose. The bloodstained cheek had been wiped clean and returned to its fair hue. She looked so serene, it was hard to believe she had fiercely resisted just the day before—like one who had accepted everything and fallen into eternal slumber. To soothe his uneasy heart, Aaron held her tighter. He buried his face into her delicate neck and deeply inhaled her fragrant scent. A princess who consumed flowers—naturally, the scent of blossoms lingered deep in her skin.

A princess.
The prize he had worked so hard to capture turned out to be royalty. Just as he had suspected, she was a key figure who could determine the course of the war. But he hadn’t expected her to be a royal he would be forced to kill. How could he possibly kill something so dazzling and beautiful with his own hands? Watching her die was out of the question. Letting someone else take her was even more unthinkable.

Aaron’s hand gently moved to Delia’s left arm. He could feel the roughness of the bandage around her wound—a mark he had left. A sign that she was his. Even if it was called kidnapping, he didn’t care. He had caught her through effort; she was his. He would lock her deep where no one could touch her. Build strong walls, hide her somewhere safe. She’d suffer for a while—maybe even try to escape again like yesterday. But she wouldn’t dream of escaping him. Not when her parents, the King and Queen of Eorenti, were his bait.

While she remained trapped by their fate, he would wrap her in the finest jewels and dresses. Tempt her with sweet food and draw her into a secret world. And when she grew restless, he would simply build her a bigger cage. Gift her a vast estate, build a beautiful castle for her to live in. Host endless parties, let her indulge in wine and games. Once she drowned in pleasure, her notions of country and duty would fade. Most nobles of the Empire were like that.

He never imagined he’d come to appreciate what once disgusted him. And once she had a child, she would settle down, tied by maternal love. By then, today’s pain would be nothing more than a faint memory, hard to even recall.

“You’ll forget soon.”

Aaron kissed Delia’s slender neck deeply. A crimson mark bloomed.

“I’ll make you forget everything.”

He whispered low and inhaled the sweetness of her skin. A scent strong enough to erase his entire being filled his lungs.

Delia’s lashes, seemingly in eternal slumber, trembled. Slowly, her eyelids lifted to reveal unfocused blue eyes. Her mind was clouded, like wrapped in heavy fog. She blinked repeatedly, trying to clear the haze. Aaron’s figure came into view—he was whispering something to Dike.

“Make the preparations as soon as possible. You’re dismissed.”

“Yes, Commander.”

As Dike left, Aaron strode toward her in wide steps. Sitting on the bed, the movement sent a small tremor through it.

“Did you sleep well?”

He looked down at the weakly lying Delia and brushed aside her messy hair. Delia had no strength to push him away. Turning her head away and closing her eyes was all she could do.

“I’ve made preparations to leave tomorrow. I’ve contacted the estate as well. Everything will be ready for your comfort when you arrive.”

“You mean you’ve prepared my cage.”

“For now. Just until I return.”

In other words, she’d be imprisoned even there. And once he returned, his arms—stronger than any cage—would trap her again. The thought suffocated her. She turned her head.

“I’ve also asked my brother to grant you a title. You’ll receive a new domain and title.”

Despite Delia’s clear discomfort, Aaron continued to stroke her hair, as if indulging a precious treasure. Like darkness craving light, he buried his hand in her golden locks.

“I also ordered preparations for the wedding. We’ll marry as soon as I return. I’ll finish up quickly and come back.”

At the mention of marriage, Delia’s tightly sealed lips parted slightly.

“After the war? After you trample Eorenti?”

It was a difficult question to answer. The fall of her homeland was inevitable. In an age of conquest, harbors were crucial. Eorenti was positioned at the junction of sea and continent—a strategic hotspot anyone would desire. If not Stilleitz, someone else would have taken it. Better it fall to the Empire—to him.

Avoiding her gaze, Aaron gently spoke his plans.

“I’ll make it grander than the Emperor’s own wedding. You’ll become the Empire’s one and only Grand Duchess.”

“That’s not what I want.”

“You’ll see your parents after the wedding. I’ll have them sent to another country.”

Delia opened her eyes to meet his. She blinked, trying to understand. He meant to exile her parents—have them live in another land.

“I can’t let my parents live such a shameful life because of me.”

“Better that than death. Though they’ll be cut off from the world, I’ll ensure they live in luxury.”

“My parents would never want that.”

Aaron gently patted the ends of her hair, whispering soothingly.

“At first, it may be hard to adjust. But in time, both they and you will grow used to the change. The past will fade. Eventually, you’ll adapt.”

“That resentment may fester forever. It’ll rot the soul. We’ll wither away.”

“Then I’ll fill you with so much joy that it won’t happen.”

Aaron leaned over Delia. As he gazed into her moist blue eyes, the world seemed brighter. He didn’t care what it took—if he could keep this beautiful thing in his grasp. He caressed her pale cheek and whispered in a honeyed tone.

“Tell me anywhere you want to go, and I’ll build you a castle. As grand and beautiful as you like. I’ll plant all your favorite flowers in its garden.”

“But that place… it’s not Eorenti.”