Previously
Irenia patiently calms Caesar and attempts to unbind his body, despite his extreme sensitivity to the sound of clanking metal. Caesar eventually snaps the chains himself and retreats into a corner in a state of primal fear before his body undergoes a painful, monstrous transformation.
He locked his powerful arms around me like steel bars, encircling me and tightening his grip. I shoved against him with all the strength I could muster. Clenching my fists, I struck his chest, but he was as unyielding as solid rock, refusing to budge or falter.
The sudden warmth of his breath against my neck sent a strange shiver racing through me. Did he intend to kill me right now? Or did he… want to claim our missed wedding night?
“S-stop…”
We were close enough that I could feel the violent pounding of his pulse, the artery in his neck jumping conspicuously. His heart was racing far faster and harder than normal.
Could he, despite everything, be a man who knew how to draw close to a woman's body?
He pressed his weight against my shoulders, leaning in to slowly inhale my scent. The whole scene was terrifying enough to make me scream. I struggled to move, to break free, but it was useless; my body was held utterly captive and helpless.
His damp, warm frame adhered to my chest. The heat of his breath forced another tremble through me. He breathed me in again and again, as if searching for the sweetest, most delicious part of me, precisely the way a predator appraises its prey.
Then his lips drifted toward my collarbone, and he began to lick it slowly…
“Ah…”
A bizarre sensation—a prickle of ticklish numbness—crept from beneath my ear down along my neck, setting my entire body trembling. My eyes closed as tears I hadn't felt welling spilled over my cheeks.
And then… he abruptly stopped.
His suffocating hold slackened slightly, letting me breathe for the first time. Slowly, he lifted a hand and brushed my cheek. At the tip of his nail hung a single teardrop.
He stared at it, raising and lowering his hand, until he licked it away with his tongue.
Now that his arms no longer pinned me so tightly, I was able to slip mine free from against his chest.
“Caesar…”
I spoke his name, and his eyes lifted to mine. His gaze was different from before, calmer, softer. I felt the tension between us dissipate all at once.
Gently patting the bangs on his forehead, I whispered:
“Enough, please.”
“Enough?”
“Yes, I'm exhausted…”
His eyes widened in visible astonishment. He tilted his head back and forth, as if confronted with an insolvable puzzle. A frown settled over his features, etched with confusion.
Yet I knew that if I let him be, he would only attack again. It was obvious that he couldn't stop eyeing the wound on my hand whenever it shifted.
Without another thought, I threw my arms around him in an embrace.
I had to hide the wound from his sight… I stroked his back softly, and after a moment, he began to mimic the motion on mine.
In a raspy voice barely scraping past my parched throat, I whispered into his ear:
“If you keep devouring me…”
“Keep?”
His tone was like someone asking, ‘Is that wrong?’
Yes, it was.
“…I might die.”
All at once, his body stiffened. Did he truly understand the concept of death? Or did he simply not want me to die?
“Don't want to.”
The words came from his lips distinctly, spoken more clearly than anything else he had uttered.
“I don't want to die, either.”
“Don't want to…”
“So…”
I opened my mouth to tell him to stop, but a wave of dizziness crested over me, stealing the rest of the sentence. My eyes drifted shut for an instant…
“…Don't want to…”
He nudged me lightly, as if trying to keep me awake. Did he mean that he didn't want me to die?
“All right, I understand.”
I forced my eyes open, looking up at him, and resumed gently patting his hair.
He grew quiet, nuzzling his head into my palm as though asking for more of my touch.
I could hardly find the words for what I felt right then… It was as if I had tamed a savage beast that had been roaring wildly in every direction. A quiet sense of gratification washed over me.
The very creature I believed sought only to harm me was now clinging to me like a child starved for an embrace.
Perhaps… perhaps he was more like me than I had thought. Two souls whom no one cared for, forsaken by everyone… Maybe we weren't so different after all.
With that thought, my fingers tightened gently through his hair.
“Tell me…”
“Mm?”
He answered immediately, as though waiting on my every word.
“…Aren't you hungry?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“…No.”
I swayed on my feet, drained from the loss of blood. I felt pressed to the absolute limit of my endurance.
“Well, I… I am starving.”
Surely I couldn't be the only one. Slowly, almost mechanically, I stood and walked over to the table.
Dishes were piled high before me, arranged like an elaborate wedding feast. I could tell at a glance that these were the leftovers from the celebration.
The first thing to catch my eye was a plate heaped with grapes and nutmeg.
I plucked a grape and popped it into my mouth.
Its sweet juice burst across my tongue, bringing a faint smile to my face. Finally, something to soothe my empty stomach… But Caesar was only watching me in silence, showing no reaction.
“Aren't you going to eat?”
Still silent. Perhaps he disliked fruit? What about meat?
I glanced at the roast chicken set before me. It was a rich golden color, coated in a crisp skin, giving off the refreshing fragrance of lemon.
The moment I reached for a chicken leg, Caesar swallowed dryly. He had to be starving.
“I'm going to eat this. May I?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Yet the second I brought it near my mouth, disappointment clouded his face.
“Come, let's share it.”
“Yes.”
He agreed instantly, yet he didn't move. Holding the chicken, I stepped slowly toward him.
His mouth twitched with tension, but his eyes never strayed from the meat.
“Caes—”
Before I could finish, he snatched the drumstick from my grasp in the blink of an eye. Nothing was left on my palm but a smear of sticky grease.
Caesar retreated straight into his corner to devour it. Not even two seconds had passed before the drumstick was stripped down to clean white bone.
“Hah…”
He even licked his fingers clean. Clearly, it wasn't nearly enough.
“Here, have some more.”
I set the platter of chicken down on the floor. He hesitated for a second, glancing around as if checking to ensure no one was watching. What a grueling ordeal, even when it came to a simple meal.
I gave him a gentle nudge toward the plate, and his face lit up like a child's. He crawled over to it and began eating ravenously.
“He really has an appetite…”
If only he would sit at the table. If only he wouldn't retreat back into that corner…
Perhaps once his belly was full, he would calm down.
“Ah…”
I finally sank into a chair, and his eyes drifted up to study me.
Nothing remained of the chicken but bones. All of that in under five minutes.
“Come over here.”
There was no way he was full yet. I called out to him again, and his gaze wavered with renewed hesitation.
“If you don't come, you won't get any of the rest.”
Taking up a fork, I speared a morsel of lamb stewed with turnips. It was brimming with rich juices…
“Mmm, this looks delicious.”
I said it with exaggerated relish and deliberate flair, catching Caesar out of the corner of my eye before popping the meat into my mouth.
The lamb melted tenderly on my tongue, and no wonder—it was the work of an imperial palace chef, prepared with exquisite care. I could no longer ignore my own hunger. Dipping another piece hurriedly into the sauce—
“Mmh.”
Caesar suddenly tugged at the hem of my skirt, having crept up without my noticing. Seeing him there, I couldn't help a small smile.
“Sit here.”
I pointed to the chair beside me, and to my astonishment, he sat right down without the slightest hesitation. Then he reached out, grabbed food straight off the platter with his bare hand, and shoved it into his mouth.
“Wow…”
I could only marvel once more at how completely feral and uninhibited his behavior was. A prince who knew nothing of table manners! One shock had followed another since yesterday, to the point where my senses were beginning to unravel.
“You have to use a fork. Don't touch the food with your bare hands.”
“Mmh.”
His hands were filthy, slick with grease and coated in grime, and his mouth was just as smeared. I quickly dampened a napkin with water from a small finger bowl and began thoroughly wiping down his hands and face. At first he tried pulling away, but he soon relented and allowed me to do as I pleased.
“Here. Hold this and eat.”
I speared a piece of the stewed lamb and turnip with the fork, then placed it in his hand.
“Hold?”
I worried he might throw it aside if he disliked it, but fortunately, he did not.
FADE OUT