TCCIO 14

Chapter 14: The Commander’s Circumstances, the Prisoner’s Circumstances
The mad commander who had been watching over the prisoner had fallen asleep drunk. This was the perfect opportunity to escape him. It was ten steps to the table—twenty if she shortened her stride to stay silent. As Delia mapped out her route, her eyes rolled toward the sleeping Aaron. Beside the bed where she lay was a chair. The commander of the Empire of Stilleitz had, as if it were only natural, given her the bed. Then he had slumped into the visibly uncomfortable chair and promptly fallen asleep.

Confirming that Aaron’s chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm, Delia quietly sat up. Rustle. The sound of the coarse blanket slipping off her body rang louder in her ears than her own heartbeat. Startled, she turned to check, but fortunately, Aaron remained asleep, leaning back against the chair.

Is he that determined to keep an eye on me, even while sleeping so uncomfortably?
But that was his situation. Delia’s situation was this: kill the commander and escape.

Resolved, Delia cautiously swung her legs off the bed. She even held back from swallowing dryly, for fear of making noise. The moment her small feet touched the floor, she looked up at Aaron. He was still breathing steadily, his eyes closed. While Delia was tense and alert, Aaron exuded a drowsy peace in his every breath.

Rising quietly to her feet, she tiptoed forward. Earlier, she had seen it with her own eyes—confidential documents, knives, even a gun laid out on the table. Along with a letter detailing the war status at the Kabat Plains. All of it was calling to her.
“Take me.”
It was a suffocatingly fatal temptation. Just get past the commander’s net, and they’d be within reach.

Careful not to brush against Aaron, Delia crept forward. She even compressed her lungs to silence her breathing. Aaron didn’t react. He seemed truly deeply asleep.

Only once she reached the table did Delia allow herself a quiet breath. Scattered across it were top-secret documents. A dagger and throwing knives gleamed menacingly even in the dark. A rifle that promised just as much noise as power.
Which do I grab first? What should I do first?
After a moment of deliberation, Delia made her plan:

1. Kill the commander silently with a blade.

2. Collect the classified documents.

3. Slip away under the cover of night.

The rifle, which would create a loud noise and draw guards, would be the last resort.

Decision made, Delia reached toward the blades. As her fingers touched the hilt of the dagger, a jolt like electricity shot through them. The cold, solid feel of the blade pierced through her whole body. Steeling herself, Delia gripped the weapon tightly and turned toward Aaron.

Quiet but swift, she approached his back. Even in the darkness, his silver hair shimmered seductively. She could almost hear the sound of his heartbeat from earlier echoing in her ears.
If I stop his heart, maybe the course of this war will change.
If she could get hold of the Empire’s plans about the Kabat Plains, it would turn the tide in their favor.
Maybe becoming a prisoner was a blessing in disguise.
Like the ancient queen who lured the enemy general and cut off his head, Delia now raised the dagger and carefully brought it to the commander’s throat. Her hand trembled, her heartbeat thudding through her fingers.

Just as she applied pressure—
A powerful force grabbed her wrist.

Gasp!
Delia’s harsh breath broke the silence of the barracks. Before she could react, her balance collapsed under the force pulling on her wrist. By the time she regained her senses, she was already sitting on Aaron’s lap.

“It’s a bit late to be exercising, don’t you think?”

Aaron’s eyes glinted sharply in the dark like those of a predator stalking the forest. His steel-grey gaze pierced her like a blade, making her heart skip. Only then did Delia realize what had happened.

“You weren’t asleep?” she asked with a trembling voice.

Aaron smiled gently at the helpless prisoner caught before him. One hand gripped the wrist that held the dagger, and the other wrapped around her waist—trapping the would-be assassin like a snare around a wild beast.

“Of course not. How could I sleep when something this interesting was about to happen?”

“But… but you were definitely asleep…”

Delia blinked in disbelief. Even when she had passed by him, even when she was about to stab him, she had checked—his breath had smelled strongly of alcohol, and his chest had risen and fallen with steady rhythm.
She had been sure.
But Aaron had known she was moving. Even with the blade at his throat, he had pretended to be asleep—without a twitch, without a single breath out of place.

“I just had something I was too curious about to fall asleep.”

“Curious about what?”

“I wanted to see how my prisoner would react to the documents about the Kabat Plains landing in enemy hands.”

Delia let out a small sigh.
A trap. He left them there on purpose, for me to see. I got caught again.
Frustrated, she bit her lip hard.

“I was really curious about your reaction,” Aaron said, frowning as he looked down at her.
Is it a habit? he wondered.
Whenever she felt cornered, she bit her lower lip. It was oddly irritating.

“Would you try to seduce me into revealing the contents of the letter?”

As he spoke lazily, Aaron reached out. Delia flinched and pulled back, but he caught her chin in a flash.

“Or sneak a peek while I was sleeping?”

His thumb gently parted her lips. With slow, tender strokes, he ran his thumb over the bite marks on her lip, as if trying to erase them. Delia’s breath slipped out, unable to hold it in anymore. The warm, sweet breath that passed through her parted lips made Aaron smile.

“Or steal the documents and make a run for it?”

The softness of her lips under his calloused fingers sent a delicious shiver through him.
So this is what it feels like to touch such mesmerizing eyes, he thought.
He was pleased.

“I really wanted to see what you’d do.”

“So you faked being asleep to bait me?” she asked.

“Exactly. But I didn’t expect you’d go straight for the kill without a moment’s hesitation.”

Aaron admitted that this prisoner of his was something else. She didn’t try to charm him, didn’t sneak a look. She didn’t run either. Instead, she pursued her goal so directly it was frightening. She risked her life recklessly to get what she wanted. She tried to kill him without a trace of fear.
And that only made Aaron more curious about her.

“There’s no reason to hesitate in killing the enemy.”

“You wanted to kill me so badly you aimed right for my throat?”

“Of course.”

“You could’ve hesitated a little. Maybe thought, he’s too handsome to kill, or he healed my arm, so maybe spare him…”

Delia glared sharply at him, eyes flashing. Even in the dark, she could feel the sneer in his voice and the teasing tone. Despite being held at knifepoint, Aaron showed no sense of danger.

Delia tensed, trying to wrench her arm free.
“I don’t show mercy to the enemy.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she raised her left hand and swept Aaron’s arm upward. Caught off guard, his grip loosened. Delia rolled from his lap and escaped. She regained her balance and took a ready stance, gripping the dagger with renewed strength.

It happened in a flash.

“…Hah.”
Aaron let out a surprised laugh. Narrowing his eyes, he watched her as he slowly rolled up his sleeve. Blood from the scratch she’d given him trickled down his forearm.

Is this how it feels when a kitten you were petting suddenly claws you?

“I didn’t expect you to be this fierce.”

She had used a hidden blade with her left hand. Since it was her injured arm, the attack only grazed him. But had it been the right arm, it would’ve cut much deeper—or possibly even aimed straight for his neck.

“Damn, you’re no joke.”

Aaron rubbed the wound, recalling how close he’d come to danger. Her escape had been nimble, her aim precise.
Just who is she? The more I learn, the more I want to know.

Smiling, Aaron stared at his prisoner.

“Well, now this is getting even more fun.”

Aaron stood from his chair, the gleam of curiosity bright in his eyes.

“This makes me want to play even more.”

The predatory pressure in his approach made Delia suck in a sharp breath. Her body moved instinctively, even as her mind blanked from the tension.

“Unlike you, I’m always serious.”

With that, she tightened her grip and leapt toward Aaron, aiming for his neck. He dodged gracefully, even in the dark, and Delia landed in vain.

“But dear prisoner, what’ll you do now? Even if you’re serious, you can’t beat me in strength. Neither you nor Eorenti can.”

At his provocation, Delia’s eyes blazed fiercely.

“We’ll see about that.”

With that, she turned and sprang toward the table.
If I can’t win with strength, I’ll win with weapons.
Even if the guards come running at the sound of gunfire, so be it.
Whether she lived or died—if she could just kill him, that was enough.

Delia grabbed the rifle and spun to aim it at Aaron.

But the next moment, she was slammed onto the table.

Aaron had pinned her wrists and pushed her down against the tabletop.

“Ugh.”

Delia gasped, and Aaron’s low voice whispered near her ear. The rumble of it was dangerously seductive.

“My prisoner. This is dangerous.”

The sharp feel of documents against her back. The scent of blood from Aaron’s injured arm. His musky fragrance surrounded her. Above her, his eyes gleamed.

“If you play with dangerous things like this, you’ll get hurt.”

Delia scowled, straining against the overwhelming force in his grip on the gun.