Chapter 26
A few days later, he headed once more to the barracks where Chloe was staying.
If he failed this mission again, he would lose face in front of his subordinates—so today, he had to successfully abduct the princess and take her hostage.
Kuhn devised a far more precise and meticulous plan than before. Pretending that some soldiers had injured their legs and couldn’t be treated in the barracks, he intended to lure Chloe to a secluded place.
Every time I talk to a woman, my head spins. Better to get this over with quickly.
The moment he entered the barracks, he shouted:
“Nurse, over there, the knights—”
But as soon as he spoke, he found himself face-to-face with Chloe.
She immediately dropped the herbs she had been grinding and rushed toward him.
“Enoch—Sir Enoch, right?”
Having cared for countless patients, she somehow remembered Kuhn—even the fake name he had given casually.
His gaze naturally fell to her hand clutching his collar.
Hands rough with many small wounds—far too coarse for a princess. Her long, pale fingers were beautiful, yet as lowly as a knight’s.
And yet, instinctively, he wanted to touch them. To seize them in his grasp and hold them tightly.
“You left after just one day with injuries—I was so worried. And now your leg is hurt too. Please lie down. I’ll take a look.”
As if trying to dissolve his resolve, she spoke in a gentle voice.
Kuhn, forgetting even his plan, stared blankly downward.
Clear blue eyes, untainted by any impurity. His reflection shimmered within them like on the surface of a lake.
Those eyes faintly revealed an emotion.
Concern.
She—who knew nothing—was worrying about him.
How ridiculous. Kuhn had to ignore that foolish feeling. He should tell her he was fine and ask her to tend to the other knights first.
Wasn’t he supposed to lure her into the forest and bring her to his barracks?
A hostage to quiet the knights’ complaints.
A crucial woman who could signal the end of an unnecessary war.
“…Would you do that for me?”
Damn it—Kuhn became weak only in front of this woman.
It had already been three days since he started living in the musty barracks.
Last night, Kuhn sent a letter to the knights’ quarters, explaining that he would be delayed unexpectedly and asking them to wait a little longer.
At dawn today, a reply arrived, telling him to take care.
Rather than feeling ashamed for delaying the mission, he felt happy.
A man admired by countless knights—one who should be their example. If he admitted failure over something like this, he should be ashamed.
…I’m insane. I just resolved to come to my senses.
Still, regardless of his emotions, his mission had to be completed.
Even if he was swayed by a feeling he had never experienced in his life—
even if he knew exactly what that feeling was—it didn’t matter.
Until this trivial emotion subsided, he decided to keep his distance from her.
He avoided talking to her when she brought meals each morning.
When she came at night to change his bandages, he dismissed her, saying he’d do it himself.
Though her face sometimes flickered in his mind before sleep.
Though his nerves sharpened whenever he heard her speaking with others.
Time, as they say, seemed to dull the fever.
At this rate, he could soon discard these unnecessary feelings and resume the mission.
For the first time, the man had become like a lovestruck adolescent boy—yet he dismissed it easily as mere infatuation.
A week had passed since Kuhn began ignoring Chloe.
That night, after treating his wounds alone, he lay on his bed.
Perhaps because his body—always busy—was finally resting, he felt light rather than tired.
Knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he stepped outside the barracks.
No one here knew the emperor’s face, and he had even dyed his hair for disguise—no one would recognize him.
As he neared the back of the barracks, he began to hear voices.
At such an hour during wartime, conversations usually meant one of two things:
either soldiers plotting a secret mission—or engaging in a clandestine affair.
Likely the latter. Uninterested in gossip, Kuhn turned away.
“Please stop this or I’ll scream—”
Then, a familiar voice pierced his ears.
It was hers—the one whose mere voice could stir his heart.
Kuhn, skilled at reading emotions in voices, immediately recognized the distress.
“What, you think injured soldiers will protect you?”
The man’s mocking tone made the situation painfully clear.
Perhaps because they stood at the boundary between life and death, the knights’ instincts had become uncontrollable.
Among so many men, Chloe’s presence must have been provocative.
A beautiful woman caring kindly for them—yet they forgot their gratitude and behaved like beasts.
Kuhn despised such men.
A knight who abandoned chivalry had no right to be called one.
By that same code, Kuhn should save her.
But he hesitated—because he was human.
He knew getting involved with her again would bring nothing good.
If he let his suppressed emotions loose, they might grow beyond control.
“You think those crippled soldiers can save you? No way. Maybe they think the same as I do.”
Saving his fellow knights—or saving one woman.
He didn’t even have time to weigh which was more righteous.
By the time he saw the man’s filthy hand reach toward Chloe’s chest, Kuhn was already running.
“Here I am.”
“….”
“The cripple you mentioned.”
By the time he came to his senses, it was already too late.
The woman he was supposed to avoid was in his arms,
and the knight who harassed her lay unconscious after being kicked.
“…Th-thank you for saving me.”
Her body, bound in his arms, trembled. She lifted her head to look at him.
Kuhn instinctively stared at her.
Her moist eyes—perhaps from tears—were even clearer now, reflecting his face.
There was no doubt.
The face of a man in love.
He didn’t remember how he fell asleep.
When he awoke, the sun was already high.
At the rustling sound, Chloe turned—and their eyes met.
She quickly looked away.
Soon, she approached with food.
“Thank you for yesterday, Sir Enoch.”
“…I only did what needed to be done.”
Despite everything, he refused to forget his initial resolve. He deliberately avoided her gaze, drawing a line.
But Chloe simply continued slicing fruit.
“It looked like your leg had healed.”
She glanced at his leg—still wrapped in bandages despite what happened.
She wasn’t a fool. She must have noticed.
I have to leave.
Now that his lie was exposed, he had to go.
Kuhn felt despair.
Was it because he had to admit mission failure?
Or because he couldn’t stay with her anymore?
He knew the answer—but chose to ignore it.
“What will you do? You hurt your arm because of me.”
Her voice barely reached him—like he was underwater.
But one word rang clearly:
Arm?
He looked down. His sleeve was stained red.
It wasn’t blood—it was dye from his hair.
Still, she seemed convinced it was an injury.
“Don’t worry. It’s just a minor wound.”
Kuhn seized the opportunity and played along.
“Then… will you stay here until it heals? I want to take care of it.”
At that, Kuhn brightened. Relief washed over him.
Was it because the mission hadn’t failed?
Or because he could stay with Chloe longer?
Again, he knew—but ignored it.
From morning to night, Chloe never left his side.
Even while tending others, she returned to him whenever she could.
Though she knew it wasn’t a life-threatening wound, she treated him with utmost sincerity.
She applied crushed herbs to his arm and carefully wrapped it in bandages—so tightly it resembled a mummy.
“Have a peaceful night, Sir Enoch.”
Then, she kissed the bandage.
There was a belief that a nurse’s kiss could hasten recovery. That must have been her intention.
“…Good night.”
But whatever her intention, it didn’t matter to Kuhn.
His heart pounded uncontrollably. Afraid she might hear it, he held his breath for a long time.
Even when a blade nearly pierced my heart, it never beat like this.
The ruler of an empire.
A legendary knight.
A symbol of brutality.
Yet before this essence, he was no different.
He, too, was just another foolish man—unable to control himself before love.
Having acknowledged his weakness, there was only one thing left to do:
Accept his fault—and abandon the mission.
