Tamed A Blackened Slave Man - Chapter 32: If My Lips Meet Yours

Not one thing that Cassadin said was normal. Whether it was how he regarded himself as a usable tool or his suggestion to use himself as a night slave, every single statement was abnormal.

But those deep purple eyes staring at me remained unbelievably clear. Under his long eyelashes, his eyes didn’t waver or have a hint of hesitation within them. They merely looked straight at me.

Then I realized it when I saw those eyes. That what Cassadin was saying to me right now was undeniably the truth.

“Use me as your night slave.”

Even as he repeated it once more, Cassadin’s voice remained steady. It felt like I had a sharp thorn stuck in my throat as soon as I heard that. Something hot had lumped up in my throat and was preventing my voice from coming out.

To pretend as if my heart didn’t sense a pang, I got up from my seat. It had already been a long time since I’d lost my appetite.

“What are you talking about?”

“…”

Now standing up, I walked towards Cassadin’s seat on the other side of the table.

If it was to the point he could say such things without any difficulty, just how tragic of a life had Cassadin lived?

I’ve only been trying to use Cassadin, and I didn’t take even a moment to think about his suffering.

‘I’m in no position to blame Damian.’

Using people as tools, I was repeating the actions that Damian had done to me, like Cassadin.

It was I who utilized the fact that Cassadin was a slave to bring him here and tame him to my liking. Why had I only just realized this?

‘As one who will rule over everything, he is to become the most powerful tyrant that history has ever witnessed. That is what the heavens told me.’

‘The wounded hawk finds its nest where it belongs, and the black crow who knew no sky will burn to meet its demise whilst desiring the hawk’s nest.’

‘You already know the answer.’

Suddenly, I recalled what Notius had said to me.

The hawk that would rule over all the living had lost everything it owned overnight to the ones who envied him.

A wounded hawk. In this context, the wounded hawk was Cassadin.

I had the thought that I could no longer leave Cassadin in his wounded state. As Damian had done to me, if I treated Cassadin as a mere tool, I would be no different from the man that I grew to hate.

‘Poor Cassadin. I’ll heal your wounded wing. So that you will return to your destined position, so that you won’t have to bear that wound alone. I will become your nest.’

“Cassadin.”

Arriving right next to Cassadin, I placed both my hands on his two muscular shoulders. Only then did a different light glint in his purple eyes that peered up at me.

“You’re not dirty. No, you are the purest, cleanest person I have seen or will ever see.”

“…No. I’m not pure. This body has already been dirtied and used beyond repair.”

Cassadin denied my claims as his eyes sank downward.

“Who set that standard for dirtiness?”

I brought my hands from his shoulder up to his cheeks. Gently wrapping my hands around Cassadin’s face as if holding something precious, I leaned down right up to Cassadin’s face. My platinum hair tickled Cassadin’s skin as it slipped down onto his face.

“…Sister. What are you…?”

His slightly parted lips, significantly widened eyes, and how his words trailed off all displayed that Cassadin was flustered. I gave him a soft smile as I asked him.

“If my lips meet yours right this moment, am I dirty?”

Cassadin’s gaze lingered on my face for a while. Without taking a moment even to blink, it seemed as if he had forgotten to breathe as well. I almost believed that time had stopped for a moment.

I continued to lean in, and, instead of kissing Cassadin’s lips, I gave him a small peck on the forehead.

Immediately thereafter, I slowly retracted my hands from Cassadin’s face, only for him to hurriedly grasp onto the hem of my dress. And my perfectly ironed dress creased willingly to Cassadin’s grip.

“Sister.”

The end of his voice trembled as he called out to me. His throat wavered noticeably as he held onto my dress as if it were his lifeline.

“If you are dirty, then everything in the world would be dirty as well.”

There was a suppressed sincerity etched in Cassadin’s strained voice. I placed my hand on top of Cassadin’s clenched hand, grabbing my dress.

“I’ll say the same thing back to you. If you are considered dirty, not a single thing in the world can be considered pure. Not one blade of grass, not one blooming flower. Nothing would be pure in this world.”

“…”

“Cassadin, please don’t ever, ever lower yourself. You are the noblest man to stand on this very land and the purest out of all.”

Hearing that, Cassadin closed his eyes. Like a person who had fallen asleep under the warm spring sunlight, his expression seemed incredibly serene.

“Sister, you are my savior.”

His quiet voice resonated from the deep abyss of the sea. It wouldn’t have been strange if I had been swallowed up by his voice right at that moment.

“It was a lie when I said I disliked you.”

Cassadin tightly squeezed my hand, his eyes still closed. The heat from the places where our hands came into contact was searing hot.

“From the moment we met until now, there has not been a single moment where I hated you.”

“…”

“Instead…”

Trailing off, Cassadin slowly opened his eyes. As the eyelashes that had been slanted down angled up, they revealed the eyes below them. His eyes, which would shine even on a moonless night, were shining with an obsession I had never seen before.

‘Snake.’

Why was it that I was reminded of a snake as soon as I saw Cassadin’s eyes? Why was it that I imagined a snake that wrapped itself around its selected prey to slowly suffocate it to death.

Cassadin didn’t add anything more after that. He merely caressed the tips of my fingers as he stared at me with a persistent gaze.

Even though he had not continued his statement, I felt a sort of relief from it. I was curious about what came afterward, but I could instinctively feel that I shouldn’t hear it.

Cassadin hadn’t blinked once after opening his eyes. His eyes were focused on me.

Lips shut in a straight line, and relaxed eyes. Anyone could tell that he had no expression, but why was it that, in my eyes, it seemed like Cassadin was smiling?

Was this what a snake about to capture its prey looked like? Was that the face of a lion that was stalking a deer?

Continuing to look at that face, my lips dried up like a person who had wandered through the desert for days, and my throat burned up like someone had poured boiling water down it. It was like the world was spinning under me.

I felt as though I would suffocate under his gaze had I stayed there any longer, so I fled from the scene.

That was the first time that I fled from Cassadin.

Several days have passed since then. At that time, I attempted to pry out information about Damian from Tuule, but he just shook his head, apologizing that he couldn’t remember anything.

When I was still disappointed in not getting any information, Father called me to his office.

“Aren, a letter has arrived for you.”

“A letter?”

Then Father handed me a white envelope with a red seal.

“Looking at the seal, it seems that it’s from the palace.”

“Have you read it?”

“No. It’s a letter for you, and there is no reason for me to read it.”

Father cleared his throat awkwardly. Even though he didn’t read the letter, the way he kept on glimpsing at the envelope showed that he was incredibly curious about its contents.

“You could have read it if you wished to.”

So for Father, I opened the letter on the spot. As soon as I unfolded the letter, a neat handwriting greeted me.

[Aren.

In a fortnight, 6 at night in the palace.

PS. The forget-me-not you have given me is still alive.

Crown Prince.]

I expected his handwriting to be as cheesy as his attitude when I met him, but who would have known? The Crown Prince’s writing didn’t have a single odd stroke. Up until this point, I thought he may have asked someone else to write it for him.

Of course, aside from the handwriting being so neat, the contents of the letter and its conciseness were a perfect representation of the Prince’s personality.

‘That’s not the important part right now. I’ll need to write a response.’

I shook my head from side to side as I took out a sheet of paper and immediately started to write a response. Watching me quietly move my pen along the paper, Father asked me.

“When have you met with His Highness? And what are the dates and locations on the letter meant for?”

“We met at the Crown Prince’s banquet for the first time. It’s likely an invitation for another banquet.”

“I heard that he collapsed after a poisoning attempt.”

Was nobody aware that the Crown Prince was well and alive?

Well, he did collapse from poison on the day of his birthday, so it wouldn’t be strange for the others who had seen it in person to think that the Crown Prince was still unwell.

‘Then why exactly did he visit our mansion the day after the incident? Who knows what sort of rumors will spread if it is revealed that he came to my home as soon as he recovered? Was that Crown Princess shenanigans all a lie as well?’

That unpredictable man.

Cursing the Crown Prince internally, I opened my mouth to clarify Father’s confusion. But in case someone was eavesdropping, I lowered my voice so only Father could hear me.

“I was the one who healed him.”

“…Is that so?”

“Yes. His Highness is completely healthy right now. To the point that he visited our mansion while Father was away on the territory patrol.”

Father must not have known about it, as his mouth dropped open.

“That’s likely the reason why he’s opening a banquet. To show that he is still strong and well. Not to mention that the imperial family’s reputation is not faring well after Grand Duke Daeus’s lawsuit.”

I was the one who planted the seed of suspicion in the Emperor and turned the arrow to Damian. I had to attend the banquet, at least in apology for diminishing the imperial family’s prestige.

‘…Wait, will Damian be coming to the banquet as well?’

I haven’t heard from Damian since he sent me Tuule. Maybe he was busy with the lawsuit against the imperial family. A proof of that would be all of the talk among the people about Damian and the imperial family.

After writing a short response that I would be attending, I neatly folded the letter and placed it on the desk.

“I haven’t seen much of Cassadin recently.”

“…”

I froze when I heard Father mention Cassadin’s name.

“Why, you two were like peas in a pod in the past. Did you have a fight with Cassadin?”