Chapter 24: Losing His Composure

Ilaria’s words hung in the quiet chamber of the library.

Levan’s narrowed eyes remain fixed on her as if she had just announced the moon had fallen from the sky. He did not move from where he was resting. Usually, he would have fallen asleep by now if it had not been for the presence of another person. This velvet cushion used to be comfortable, now it was not.

Meanwhile at the door, Ilaria fidgeted with her finger, her hands clutching the door handle while her wide eyes shimmered at him, her lips trembling into a pout. She looked very much like a pitiful stray cat…or worse, like a caricature of helplessness painted into flesh, all wide eyes and trembling lips.

Levan pinched the bridge of his nose when he realized she did not want to move. “…You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” she insisted softly, inching her shoulders in like a child caught misbehaving.

“Where is your maid?” Levan exhaled.

Ilaria shifted, gripping the doorframe as though it were her lifeline. “…I told Liana to go rest. She looked so tired and I felt bad keeping her up…”

His head snapped toward her, incredulous. “So you’re too frightened to walk back alone, yet you sent away the one person whose job is literally to walk you back?”

Her lips parted, but no excuse came. She only blinked at him, looking sheepish and guilty like she just got caught stealing something precious from him — unfortunately, his patience.

Levan dragged a hand down his face. He does not usually react to childish behaviour like this, but he could not help it now. Maybe because he was tired, maybe because he was sleepy, or he was just indisputably annoyed, he scoffed, “Unbelievable.”

“It’s not that bad…” Ilaria muttered under her breath.

He gave her a look that could cut marble. “Not that bad? You’re terrified but you dismissed your maid, and now you’re standing here looking like—” he gestured vaguely at her wide eyes and drooping shoulders “—that.”

“I was being considerate!” She argued weakly.

“Considerate, yeah?” He repeated flatly. “Of everyone but me and yourself, apparently.” Levan leaned back against the cushion, exuding a sharp, careless sort of handsomeness even in his unruly irritation. “Tell me, do you plan your illogic in advance, or does it come naturally?”

Her jaw dropped. “That’s rude!”

“Truth usually is.”

She stomped her foot just once, the most pitiful show of defiance. “…I still don’t want to walk back alone.”

“Saints preserve me,” Levan groaned, tipping his head back against the cushion. His voice dropped lower, cool as the marble beneath their feet. “You can parade your stubbornness all you want, princess, but at the end of the day, you’re still a burden I was forced to carry.”

He expected the sting to land the way it did before. He expected to see her shoulders collapsing, her eyes flickering down, and she would retreat into silence that left him with that cursed, restless pang in his chest again. But instead of that, Ilaria’s lips parted in outrage, her face scrunching as her cheeks puffed up into a pout.

She whipped her gaze away from him with all the force of a sulking child. “…Mean husband,” she muttered, glaring at the empty wall as if it would sympathize with her.

Levan short-circuited for the briefest second, his eyes fixing her with a stare that shows how utterly dumbfounded he was. “…What did you say?”

Ilaria’s pout only deepened. “You heard me.”

His brow twitched in disbelief. This slip of a girl…he had all but torn her apart with words that should have sent her retreating, yet here she was, sulking like he had denied her her favourite pastry!

Levan finally lost the last of his patience. “Go. Back.” His voice cracked like a whip through the chamber.

Ilaria flinched, but she did not move away from the door. “…But I’m scared…”

“Of what? The shelves?” His tone dripped with exasperation. “Did the tome bite you?”

Her eyes widened, darting to his face before skittering down to the floor, then flicking back up at him again. She chewed at her lip, her fingers fussing with the door handle as it had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room. Finally, she jutted out her lips, her voice small and sulky as she tried to look pitiful.

“…You’re being mean again.”

Levan’s jaw flexed as he watched every twitch and fidget of her. The way her eyes refused to settle, the fingers worrying at the door, and the pitiful little pout…He wondered if she was faking it, but even if she was it was still annoying. Ah…he should have relented before he got this irritated. Abruptly, he pushed himself to his feet.

“Fine. I’ll walk you back.”

At that, Ilaria’s head instantly snapped up, the pout suddenly gone like it was never there. “Really?”

He shot her a warning glare, but it only made her eyes grow wider.

“…Really??” she asked again, almost smiling now as she could not believe her persuasion had actually worked. If she had known he would give in this easily, she would have acted this way from the very beginning.

Without warning, Levan strode to her, closing the distance until he was standing right in front of her. The sudden closeness made Ilaria freeze, her back nearly brushing the doorframe when he leaned just enough to trap her in his shadow. She tipped her head up, heart pounding erratically but still could not contain the happiness that was showing on her face.

“If you so much as complain once, I’ll leave you in the hallway,” his threat was biting, his golden eyes steady as his hand came up to rest on the door handle like a silent reminder of who held control, effectively trapping her to taunt.

But Ilaria only blinked at him, her eyes wide like she was mesmerised with the proximity instead of being afraid. As if they were sharing a secret, she leaned in, her breath brushed his lips unabashedly, whispering, “…What if I got kidnapped?”

Levan stilled, staring at her in disbelief. “…By what?”

“The Blithe,” she murmured, dead serious.

For a moment, silence hung between them. 108976 thoughts crossed Levan’s mind but none of it was sensible. If a soldier misbehave, the punishment is flogging. If a wife misbehave? He did not know. And so, Levan lifted his hand and gently poked her forehead with one finger, pushing her head back a fraction.

“Stop talking and move,” he ordered and opened the door.

Ilaria puffed her cheeks, rubbing the spot where his finger had touched but obediently shuffled forward. Now that she was behind him, she could not help the tiniest grin that crept on her lips. Her steps were light and almost bouncy as if she had just pulled off the most impossible trick, because technically, she had.

He was walking her back. And that was the greatest achievement she had achieved with him so far.

Levan did not spare her a glance as he continue to walk in his pace. His strides were long and purposeful, his posture sharp as ever that Ilaria had to half-jog just to keep up, but she was not about to complain. Not when she had already won. Her grin only grew wider to the point she needed to clasp her cheeks to control herself.

They moved past the towering shelves, their shadows stretched long beneath the dim glow of the sconces. And Ilaria’s throat has been itching to talk to him; her ears has been restless to hear his voice in this rare moment of togetherness.

“You walk so fast…” she sighed dramatically. “What if my legs are shorter than yours?”

Levan did not slow down. “Then walk faster.”

Ilaria walked two steps faster to catch up. “So cold, husband, don’t you know I could trip and fall?”

“That would be your fault.”

She gasped. “Are you saying you wouldn’t catch me?”

“No.”

Ilaria clutched her chest as if she was mortally wounded. “Cruel man! To think I agreed to marry you.”

They rounded a corner towards the center aisle. “We didn’t have a choice,” he remarked.

She faltered for a moment, struck by his blunt words, but then, instead of sulking, she burst into a giggle. “That’s true, but you could at least pretend.”

As they reached the main door, Levan’s hand closed around the cold brass handle before he suddenly spun around, the sharp movement catching Ilaria mid-giggle. She jerked a step back to avoid colliding with him, her laughter chocking off as her eyes widened in shock.

Levan’s brow lifted, but there was nothing amused in his eyes, only frost and quiet annoyance. “You must have had a remarkable nap. Most people wake groggy at this hour, yet here you are, laughing like a fool in the middle of the night.” The words cut like glass, a jab meant to wipe the grin right off her face.

Her shoulders dipped. “I wasn’t—”

“Enough,” Levan said curtly, turning the handle with a sharp twist. “Stop laughing and walk quietly.”

Ilaria pursed her lips and followed behind him, each step exaggeratedly heavy to make her displeasure known. Still, she trailed obediently at his side, eyes flicking up at him every now and then with a silent, sulky glare.

Without even turning his head, Levan warned. “Look forward unless you want to trip into a pillar.”

“I won’t,” she muttered under her breath, making sure he heard the slight edge of defiance in the tone she used. Her gaze stubbornly lingered on him a second longer before she sniffed and looked away with exaggerated reluctance. And the universe wasted no time proving him right.

Ilaria’s slipper caught on the edge of an uneven step, and with a startled gasp, she pitched forward so suddenly she could not even scream. It was fortunate that before she could collide headfirst with the cold marble, Levan’s arm shot out, catching her by the elbow and yanking her back upright in one swift and unyielding motion.

Her heart hammered as she clutched desperately onto the arm that was holding her firmly. For a moment, she thought her soul was already lost.

Levan was far from pleased. “What,” he began, each syllable emphasized deliberately as he glared at her, “did I just tell you?”

Ilaria’s lips wobbled, her shoulders dipped in a sheepish manner. “…Not to trip.”

“Exactly.” He let go, brushing his hand against his sleeve as though shaking her off, even though his grip had been careful and protective. “Do it again, and I’ll leave you here.”

She shrunk back a little as she felt guilty at first, but then she purposely beamed up at him, undeterred. “But you still caught me~”

Ilaria stuck unnaturally close to him as they walked, her sleeve nearly brushing his arm at every step. Levan’s jaw ticked, but he said nothing, only pushed forward until they reached the carved double doors of her chamber. Roderic and Alaric stood stiff at their posts, though Levan did not miss their questioning look towards each other.

When he approached, they bowed deeply and pulled the doors open. Inside, the chamber was dimly lit, the lanterns flickering alive. And there, half-curled in a chair near the canopy bed sat a maid, her head bobbing as she fought sleep. At the sound of the doors, she startled awake, eyes widening when she saw the two royals.

Levan’s gaze slid down to Ilaria, his eyes glowing hauntingly. “So much for being alone.”

Ilaria slowly tilted her face up to him, baring the most unconvincing grin imaginable, the corners of her lips trembling as if they were about to collapse into panic at any second. “…Oh…she must have…um…snuck back in? Hehe…heh…”

Levan did not bother. “Go inside.”

Her lips curved sadly, though she obeyed, slipping into the room with a reluctant wave. “Goodnight, husband…” she murmured, twinkling her fingers at him.

He did not return the gesture, merely watched her retreat until the door clicked softly shut.

Inside, Ilaria stood frozen for a heartbeat, then her back slid against the wood until she was leaning hard against it. Unable to contain herself, she buried her face in her hands and squealed. Her heart hammered wildly, warmth rushing to her cheeks as she fought to keep her voice down.

“He walked me back…!” she whispered into her palms, wriggling in place like she had just pulled off the greatest victory. Still flustered, she pressed her cheek against the cool surface of the door, grinning like a fool as if she could feel his lingering presence through the wood.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep