Captured into the Bedroom of the Enemy Emperor (1 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 5
She let out a breath. Har Chen took her arm, straightened her dress hem, and seated her on the wicker chair.
He turned around to call a servant, glancing down the corridor. Only the music spilling from the banquet hall filled the long passageway.
He grasped her shoulders to keep her from collapsing, as she hadn’t yet regained consciousness. His eyes naturally fell upon her face—it was a familiar one.
He tilted his head, straining to recall which noble house’s young lady she belonged to.
“Mm… w-water.”
Har Chen lifted a bottle with one hand and pressed it to her lips. She clamped her mouth shut the moment the bottle touched her.
“Hrk.”
“My lady, please come to your senses and drink this instead of water.”
She should have opened her lips to exhale, yet she held her breath instead.
Har Chen placed the bottle neck to his own mouth and took a sip of Atrajan. He gently held her jaw and parted her lips slightly.
Then he pressed his lips to hers and slowly poured the Atrajan into her mouth. She swallowed the liquor and finally exhaled the breath she’d been holding, her lips parting.
Where had he seen her before?
He took a generous swig from the green bottle, held a mouthful, and carefully poured it into her parted lips once more.
Just as he thought she was certainly someone he’d seen somewhere before, her eyes fluttered open. Her vivid blue irises shimmered faintly.
Har Chen froze, unmoving.
It was clearly she who first parted her damp lips ever so slightly—and in that same instant, they stole a kiss from each other.
When Har Chen’s hand reached for her neck, she shoved hard against his chest.
She sprang up from the chair. The knot at her back came undone, causing her bodice to gape open. Flustered, she covered herself with her hands and glared at him.
“My lady. Allow me to explain.”
*Slap!* She struck Har Chen across the cheek.
“You… scoundrel!”
She gathered the flowing hem of her dress, hitched it up, and without giving Har Chen time to stop her, she leapt onto the railing and jumped down below.
Har Chen slumped onto the wicker chair, watching her silhouette vanish into the darkness, clutching the stone railing as she fled.
Dazed, he touched his stinging cheek, then rubbed his lips. Cutting through the scent of Atrajan was a faint, indescribable, and strangely alluring fragrance.
“Hah. What was that…”
He lit a cigar and picked up the white cat mask that had fallen to the floor, examining it.
There was far too tangible evidence left behind to dismiss it as a mere illusion. Above all, the lingering sensation of her lips against his kept pricking his heart.
.
.
.
Patricia clutched the hem of her dress and ran toward the rear of the academy’s banquet hall.
She mounted the horse Eden had left for her at the arranged spot. As if possessed, she rode through the woods straight to the western tower of the palace annex. There, she shed her dress and changed into simple attire, then took up a sword.
In the darkness of the sky garden atop the western tower, she swung her blade.
She struck away the image of her stern mother who had clad a thirteen-year-old girl in armor instead of a dress—and the sorrow behind that mother’s inevitable choice.
The blade cleanly sliced through the darkness.
The Emperor, glaring down at her as she lay unhorsed on a battlefield awash in blood.
She brought her dew-dampened sword crashing down upon the memory of her cruel father’s eyes as he rode his massive warhorse over her body, trampling her where she lay soaked in blood.
She severed her harsh fate.
By the time her entire body was drenched in morning dew, Patricia’s sword had grown gentle.
The night of passion had ended. As the darkness lifted, a cerulean sky unfolded, and Tane’s pure sun rose.
Patricia stood, lowering her sword diagonally before her.
Her mind cleared—and with it came crushing guilt. The lingering scent of Atrajan, transferred through his lips, still clung to hers. She bit her lower lip until it nearly bled.
She had stolen his kiss. Why had she done it? Swept away by emotions surging beyond control.
Patricia raised her sword toward the blazing sun.
His astonishing beauty, his imposing yet balanced frame, his deep green eyes like a swamp, his arrogant confidence as though he owned the world—she struck down the memory of that haughty man’s smile on the terrace with her sunlit blade.
She erased his name.
[This is the timeline separator]In the capital Liswan, the maids had failed to keep up, leaving only male attendants thick in the palace. With no choice, two laundry maids were summoned to attend to the princess.
Since the maids had no experience with personal service, and lacking fresh attire after the bath, they fetched a white shirt from the Emperor’s dressing room and fashioned makeshift undergarments from plain cotton.
One maid roughly estimated Princess Patricia’s measurements by eye.
“Your Highness, please wear this tonight. We’ll work through the night to prepare a proper dress.”
Patricia, lost in thought, spoke up.
“If you’re making something anyway, please make knight’s trousers and a shirt—something comfortable for movement.”
“That’s easy enough. Yes, we’ll do exactly that.”
Expecting a sharp reprimand demanding an immediate gown, the maids were surprised by the Imperial Princess’s unassuming and modest demeanor. While Lady’s dress fabrics were absent in the Pana Palace laundry, knight’s trouser and shirt materials were plentiful.
.
.
.
The Emperor sat on the reception room sofa and poured himself another glass of the spirit Panian.
Twins with Patrick! Both sharing the same womb.
He told Kalip, Lean, and Bern to go rest.
“Your Majesty, though we’ve bound the princess’s wrists, her swordsmanship is strong enough to easily defeat two knights.”
Kalip held out iron shackles.
“Perhaps we should chain her hands to the bedpost.”
The Emperor recalled her attempt to leap off the Tamil Valley cliff. He set his pewter cup on the table, rose, and wrapped the chains Kalip offered around his own wrist as he gave an order.
“Kalip, go to the barracks and return tomorrow morning. You two stay here and stand guard.”
“John’s.”
When the Emperor entered the bedroom, the princess—her wrists bound—was at the window, peering outside. He swiftly moved and swept her sideways into his arms.
“Princess, planning to slip away like a cat?”
“What are you doing? Put me down.”
“I can’t do that. You’re my prisoner.”
“Who are you?”
Patricia, preoccupied with scanning for escape routes, hadn’t even looked at the man holding her.
“…Hah! Unbelievable.”
The Emperor held her loosely enough for her to see his face, clad in his loose shirt.
Feeling herself slipping, the princess glanced down at the floor and gripped his arm. He pulled her close, steadying her.
He brought his face so near their noses nearly touched. The sharp aroma of Panian spirit wafted from him.
“I am Har Chen Eint Karl Berk, Emperor of Karsik.”
At the Emperor’s words, the maids dozing on the floor with their heads together jolted awake and pressed their foreheads to the ground.
“The Sun of the Empire that never sets.”
“The golden sun of the blazing Empire—Your Imperial Majesty!”
These maids were from the nomadic Hoon Tribe.
After ascending the throne, Har Chen enacted a law granting the Hoon Tribe equal status with commoners, heralding a new golden age.
The Hoon people could now engage in economic activities and own private property, just like commoners.
Though local nobles strongly opposed this, the capital’s aristocratic houses, well aware of Har Chen’s temperament, dared not object.
He had been the very one who, even as Crown Prince, eradicated corrupt noble houses. Though young, he was not to be underestimated—possessing a formidable will to push through his convictions, even when deemed autocratic.
The capital nobles’ chief interest lay in the vast quantities of gold and diamonds revealed each early summer as the glaciers melted.
All eyes were on how the Emperor would proceed with mining these riches.
These Hoon maids had been hired at Pana Palace’s laundry to learn tailoring for the knight corps.
This was their first time seeing the Emperor so close. Without standardized protocol, they simply pressed their foreheads to the floor.
“Leave now.”
Once the maids departed at his dismissal, the Emperor looked down at Patricia still cradled in his arms.
‘Right. Yes, it was you. Har Chen Berk.’
She never wanted to meet him—mustn’t meet him.
She’d even worn full plate armor. Had it not been for that sudden, searing chest pain, she wouldn’t have lost the duel. Even if she’d lost, she should have acted swiftly to prevent him from removing her armet.
Yet he’d stripped even her armor.
Two months prior, the man who had become Emperor of Karsik. Empress Pamila, driven frantic by greed for the gold and diamonds buried beneath the Empire’s glaciers.
‘Ah, Patrick.’
Patricia hadn’t shown Patrick the Emperor’s urgent dispatch order Eden had brought.
Patrick was bedridden with high fever and sharp chest pains—so severe he could barely move. The palace physician’s medicine had done nothing, and his face had turned a sickly green.
Poisoning…!
Patricia remembered her mother’s final moments—her whole body overtaken by poison, turning that same ghastly green.
On the eve of departure, she and Eden had moved Patrick to the western tower. She instructed Eva to tell the western tower knights that Patricia herself was unwell.
The knights, sworn to silence and having lost their tongues, bowed their heads, pressing elbows to foreheads in acknowledgment of Eva’s words.
Patricia entrusted her mother’s jewel box to Eva, imploring her to find someone connected to the Hoon Tribe and obtain an antidote.
At dawn on the day of departure, the Emperor was nowhere to be seen. Outside the palace walls, Eva stood in a blue dress and apron, pressing a handkerchief to her face as she wept.
‘Patrick, just hold on until I return.’
*
Patricia snapped back to reality, worried about Patrick. She realized the Emperor was carrying her toward the bed.
“Your Majesty, please put me down.”
“I will—but let me remind you again, Princess. You are my prisoner.”
“If I’m your prisoner, then treat me as one.”
“Hah, Princess. It’s me.”
The Emperor laid Patricia down on his bed.
“It’s my first time capturing a princess masquerading as Crown Prince, so I’m a bit clumsy.”
‘This Emperor doesn’t remember that night. Is that fortunate? Right—he wore a mask. But did he keep it on the whole time? On the terrace, together… Ah, Patricia, why did you do it?’
Relieved that the Emperor hadn’t mentioned that night, Patricia recalled seeing Empress Pamila at the banquet. Rage boiled within her, making her tremble.
She remembered stepping out onto the terrace.
When she’d regained consciousness, vivid green eyes met hers. She’d thought them like a rain-drenched forest. And then…
As if enchanted, she’d impulsively committed the greatest mistake of her life. The Emperor, still Crown Prince then, had been drunk—thankfully, he likely remembered nothing.
It had to be that way.
The Emperor rose from his bed, meeting Patricia’s sky-blue eyes as she looked up at him.
“Uncomfortable as it may be, you’ll follow my way.”
Laid in the center of the enormous bed, Patricia sat up and shifted toward the headboard. Though her bound wrists limited movement, she sat as straight as possible.
“Show proper decorum.”
“Why should I? You invaded my territory, and I merely captured the leader of a hostile nation as my prisoner?”
When scheming men desperately battle for her favor in the male harem
This one’s also on my reread list! The rivalry, scheming between the men in the imperial harem are just as intense and thrilling as in classic palace drama novels, where concubines fight to the death. Give it a read, girls! I promise you won’t be disappointed.
Synopsis:
“I am not worthy of her… but I still want to be by her side, even if only as a loyal dog…”
Those were the painful whispers of Yue Guanyi – the proud Crown Prince of the Great Qi, who was torn between deep love and a guilty conscience. Despite holding the supreme power of the Imperial Guard, he still could not forget the dark past when he was sold into a brothel.
Fate played a cruel twist when Qiu Shuzhi – a young female official who had just passed the imperial examinations with top honors – stepped into his life. She did not know that she was the one who had saved him from a tragic fate many years ago. And now, her heart was the target of pursuit for both Yue Guanyi and the powerful Empress Dowager Qin Qing.
While Yue Guanyi only dared to silently care for and protect the one he loved from afar, the Empress Dowager Qin Qing openly expressed his feelings and did not hesitate to take advantage of his power to approach Qiu Shuzhi. The covert struggle between the two most powerful forces in the imperial court began…
Trigger warning: All men in this novel are yandere style.
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Re-reading this chapter, it made realize how little Patricia regarding her life compared to Patrick, all because of her guilt over her twin’s sickness which she assumed caused by her taking away his nutrition during pregnancy (in my opinion, it’s an entirely absurd superstition and baseless theory at best). Glad Patricia has come far by started relying in Harchen until she can trust him and vice versa.
Oh! Harcen made a surf board and have Patricia surfing at the sea? That’s so nice of him! If I were her, I too would be thrilled as I riding the waves.
Could it be the grave with the red hibiscus is the late Empress’ (a.k.a Patricia and Patrick’s mom) grave? Talk about cutting onion.