As the pack of wolves charged ferociously toward Aselin, she shouted, “Wait, look at this!” and thrust something high above her head.
Claude’s eyebrow twitched.
Just as a wolf lunged to bite her, he raised his large hand, halting it.
“Where did you get that noble’s insignia? Did the one who sent you to assassinate me give it to you?”
His icy voice was sharp as an arrowhead.
I’m glad I brought the insignia just in case. But does he think I’m an assassin? Is that why he wants to kill me?
Aselin’s eyes widened, and she shook her head vigorously.
“I’m not here to harm Your Highness. And this place is outside the border, isn’t it? Why are you trying to kill me?”
“The entire Chaos Forest is my domain—what does a border matter? And for someone who claims not to be an assassin, you seem to know me quite well.”
His red eyes, glaring at Aselin, brimmed with hostility.
Even her slight step back was met with a razor-sharp gaze.
“You’d better not think about using dark magic. The moment you chant a spell, the barrier will slice you in half, like the corpses of your kind beneath my feet.”
His oppressive voice seemed to freeze the air.
Aselin steadied her racing heart and calmly lifted her eyelids.
“I remember your face from when we met before. The small sun of the empire, Your Highness Claude, allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Aselin Rondinella, daughter of the Rondinella ducal family.”
Her unexpected response made one of Claude’s eyebrows quirk upward.
As his brow began to furrow, Aselin hurriedly got to the point.
“I am a noblewoman and an apothecary. I came to the Chaos Forest to gather herbs, specifically to collect the Lazeraan mana herb from that cliff below.”
She boldly pointed her index finger downward.
Mana herbs, exclusive to royalty, were sure to pique the interest of Claude, who was taking Cytherien.
Claude’s gaze scanned her face, searching.
His red lips parted smoothly.
“Lady Rondinella.”
His low, languid voice, laced with a lazy breath, tickled her ears.
When Claude removed his hood, his face was revealed clearly under the moonlight.
Ebony hair spilled over his forehead.
He looked different from the blood-soaked figure of her past life.
Though his pallor suggested illness, his sharp eyes, high nose, and defined jawline perfectly suited the term “cold beauty.”
The rumors were true—he was handsome enough to drive women wild.
Aselin stared at him, entranced.
Claude tilted his head mockingly, his piercing gaze landing on the bag beside her.
“If you’re telling the truth, prove it. Show me what’s in your bag. Now.”
His tone was curt and commanding.
Aselin took a slow breath, picked up the bag, and turned it upside down.
A pile of madcap mushrooms spilled out, and Claude’s eyes grew harsher.
“You came for herbs, yet your bag is full of madcap mushrooms.”
He curled his red lips into a crooked smirk.
In a flash, he pressed his sword to Aselin’s neck.
Blood seeped from a shallow cut as he applied pressure.
Flinching under the deadly aura, Aselin recoiled as his cold voice struck from above.
“You dare lie to me?”
His burning red eyes seemed ready to slice her throat.
Her life hanging by a thread, Aselin swallowed hard.
“There’s not a shred of deceit in my words. Madcap mushrooms are vital for neutralizing toxins in medicine. If you doubt me, check the cliff below for the mana herb, Your Highness.”
Claude’s intense gaze swept from her face to her fingertips.
With a slight nod, the silver-furred wolf trotted to the spot she indicated, sniffing.
Moments later, it returned from the cliff, carrying a mana herb in its mouth.
The wolf dropped it before Claude with a loud howl.
Claude narrowed his eyes, looking down at it.
“This is the mana herb you spoke of?”
“Yes, it’s the Lazeraan mana herb, as I said.”
Aselin’s mud-caked face cracked with each word.
Her large, sky-blue eyes stood out starkly against the grime.
She’s different from the assassins I’ve encountered. But why is her face smeared with mud?
Though his gaze softened slightly, suspicion lingered in Claude’s eyes.
“Only royalty may use mana herbs. Why does a mere noblewoman need one?”
“It’s not illegal for an apothecary to gather mana herbs to make medicine. Besides, this herb…”
Aselin lowered her eyes briefly, then raised her silver lashes.
“…was meant for Your Highness Claude.”
Claude let out a scoff, incredulous.
“You expect me to believe that? You weren’t planning to use it to kill me?”
His hysterical tone and furrowed brow suggested an assassination paranoia.
It made sense—born into constant threats, with his mother, the late Empress, and his sister, Princess Flora, murdered, he must be utterly fed up.
Aselin felt fear but also a pang of pity for Claude, growling with a sword at her throat.
His trauma tied every situation to assassination.
Time to play her trump card.
Aselin exhaled deeply and said firmly, “I’m not after Your Highness’s life.”
“…My life?”
As expected, Claude’s red eyes wavered.
Used to people targeting his life, being told it was insignificant must have shocked him.
Aselin added calmly, “I have no interest in your life. What I truly want is…”
Taking a deep breath, she met his eyes.
She’d been wondering how to meet the First Prince, and now here he was.
This could be a blessing in disguise.
“What I want is to be Your Highness’s wife.”
After a few seconds of silence, Claude’s face twisted in disbelief as he dropped his sword.
He ran a hand through his hair, staring at Aselin.
“What is this?”
“…”
“You’re saying you want to marry me?”
Pressing his long finger to his brow, Claude’s lips curled into a sneer.
“You think you can become my wife with a measly mana herb?”
His chilling tone made Aselin’s body tense, but she continued calmly.
“Does your heart race uncontrollably, or do you suffer from high fevers? In severe pain, you might even see hallucinations.”
“You’ve learned quite a bit about me. What’s next?”
For the first time, curiosity flickered in Claude’s hostile eyes.
Seizing the moment, Aselin spoke quickly.
“I can cure Your Highness’s illness. It’s not a quick fix—it’ll take time.”
A faint crack appeared in Claude’s icy expression.
His eyes locked onto hers, as if peering into her soul.
“The Rondinella ducal family’s business is run by Duke Pierre, isn’t it? I’ve never heard of a noblewoman making medicine.”
“That’s not true.”
Aselin raised her deep blue eyes.
“I’m the one who researches and formulates the medicines. My brother, Duke Pierre, merely uses my recipes to run the factory.”
Her heart pounded, but thankfully, Claude didn’t mock her.
“With Lazeraan, I can make a cure within a week.”
At her bold claim, Claude let out a deep, mocking laugh.
“Everyone who claimed they could cure me failed. I cut their throats with my own hands.”
“…”
“Can you handle that?”
His blazing red eyes were terrifying, as if they could devour her.
Though fear gripped her, Aselin didn’t look away.
“I can handle it. I’ve already died once.”
