Captured into the Bedroom of the Enemy Emperor (1 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 6
Patricia bit her lower lip until it turned pale white.
‘Let’s go back, to Tane. But how? Patricia, pull yourself together.’
She had to save Patrick, who had collapsed after swallowing poison as part of Empress Pamila’s scheme. She had to rescue him from Pamila’s grasp.
‘Yet here I am, trapped and unable to move.’
Worse still, she had been captured and brought into the enemy emperor’s bedroom.
‘Why? ……His bedroom!’
He should have kept her in the military barracks; instead, he brought her all the way into the palace. If she’d been in the barracks, she might have found a way to contact Eden, who was with the Tane prisoners and the Red Forest camp. Or at least, she could have heard news of Tane.
‘How on earth am I supposed to escape from here?’
The emperor uncoiled the chain he had wrapped around his own wrist with a soft clink. Holding the chain, he approached Patricia, who sat stiffly upright on the bed, and pulled her shoulders and waist down onto the mattress.
“What are you doing?”
“Securing a prisoner who might try to run away.”
Patricia, dressed only in an oversized men’s shirt, panicked. With her bound hands, she tugged the hem of the shirt down as far as possible over her thighs.
The emperor watched her calmly, then chuckled softly.
“Excuse me for a moment, Your Highness.”
He took Patricia’s right hand and snapped a handcuff onto her wrist. When he reached for her slender ankle next, she tensed her toes. The emperor faltered slightly but quickly seized her ankle and locked on a shackle.
He placed the key into his trouser pocket and fastened the chain to the bedpost.
“Stay here for three days, however uncomfortable it may be. We’ll decide again based on Tane’s negotiation proposal.”
‘Of all places, why tie me to the emperor’s own bed? At least…’
“Please send me to the military barracks, where the Tane prisoners are being held.”
“Why? Planning an escape? If you dislike my bedroom, there’s always the underground solitary cell.”
The emperor leaned his large frame down, looking straight into Patricia’s eyes. The black silk robe gaped open in the front, slipping slightly off his left shoulder.
‘Gasp! Why does his body look like that? It’s practically an outright seduction. Totally inappropriate for this situation.’
Patricia loathed herself for being distracted by that dangerously exposed, distractingly defined musculature—an utterly inappropriate sight for her current dire predicament.
Frowning slightly at the rough, bumpy texture of his muscles, she shifted her gaze to the wound on his neck.
“Just move me to the underground cell instead.”
Below his neck, a red gash left by a blade was drying and crusting over.
Her eyes traced the firm muscles rippling along his throat and the prominent collarbone beneath the wound. She bit her lip and looked up—then gasped in startled alarm.
Deep green eyes, framed by thick lashes, bore into her with intense focus.
An underground cell—fitting for an enemy commander—but he couldn’t possibly imprison a princess there.
The emperor lowered his torso further, bringing his face within inches of hers.
“You have a habit of biting your lips.”
He tilted his head, openly studying her mouth. As she released her lip from her teeth, her plump lips parted slightly.
“Hoo…”
He straightened up, lifted his chin, and exhaled sharply.
“Rats that swallowed poison and snakes slither through the walls down there. Just… stay here.”
In my bedroom.
The emperor’s face flushed as he watched Patricia abruptly turn her pink-tinged cheeks away.
“Answer me.”
“Do as you please.”
The princess wore his shirt—large and loose, revealing everything beneath. Her slender, straight neck, her collarbone, and the skin below were strikingly fair.
Her… posture… really is…
Golden hair spilled across the white sheets. He felt an urge to reach out, run his fingers through its soft strands, and inhale its scent. Jolted by his own impulse, the emperor jerked upright irritably.
He grabbed the blanket piled at the foot of the bed and snapped it open, draping it over her.
He was thirsty.
He walked over to the tea table. Intending to pour water, he instead drank the remaining liquor in the pewter cup.
Leaning back diagonally onto the sofa, the emperor muttered,
“She looks exactly like Patrick. Annoying.”
He brought his shoulder to his nose and inhaled. He realized it was her body scent that unsettled him.
It was that same intoxicating fragrance from the Tamir Valley cliffs—one so potent it stole his breath and electrified every nerve.
But… ah. Hadn’t he smelled this scent before…? Yes, occasionally… sigh.
So, it wasn’t just armor she wore in Patrick’s place—she’d also attended the academy.
The emperor swallowed a bitter smile.
Since when—and why—had she started impersonating Patrick in armor?
He tried recalling the days he’d spent with Patrick.
Had she ever come to the Phoeni tavern in his stead? They always sat shoulder to shoulder there, laughing and drinking without space between them. She probably hadn’t gone there. He shook his head.
He remembered the day Freshman Patrick first showed up in a third-year humanities lecture.
During an open discussion, Patrick had stubbornly dismantled a senior’s argument.
‘How dare a freshman—ah, but of course, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince.’
Hearing the students’ murmurs, Har Chen turned around. A strikingly beautiful boy with long golden hair down to his shoulders. Sharp intelligence gleamed in his blue eyes.
In that moment, his prejudice against the warmonger Emperor Kazan’s son shattered instantly.
Patricia Kaliyan Ebas—Patrick’s twin sister.
Had she always worn that graduation ball gown as her usual attire as princess? She’d been crying then.
Har Chen had witnessed and experienced something unreal. He’d drunk plenty of Tane’s liquor but wasn’t drunk.
At dawn, Kalip had shaken awake Har Chen, who’d fallen asleep on a wicker chair at the end of a long corridor.
Rising, Har Chen touched his cheek. He’d thought it a dream or a mirage—but there was the cat mask. The slap on his cheek, the touch of lips, the body scent—all vividly real.
He’d sent Kalip to retrieve the guest list from the masquerade ball. Though he confirmed the noble family listed, none had golden-haired daughters.
Then he noticed Patrick’s name on the attendance list—though he hadn’t been seen at the ball. It read: Partner Lisha Patterson; Escort Knight Eden Patterson.
The Pattersons were a viscount family handling Tane’s imperial administration. Kalip’s inquiries revealed they had two young masters but no young mistress.
Confused, Har Chen considered asking Patrick directly about this secret list—but verifying the truth proved elusive. Moreover, his father’s sudden critical illness forced him back to Karsik earlier than planned, leaving no time to investigate.
The woman who dropped the cat mask and vanished; the unfamiliar aura occasionally emanating from Patrick; those times Patrick had flinched sharply at even light touches… Ah!
Now it all made sense.
The twin princess had been the hidden shadow—attending academy lectures in Patrick’s stead.
“So the two of you have been playing with me.”
And now, she wore armor again in place of Patrick to start a war. But why?
The more he thought, the deeper his confusion grew. He sank further into a labyrinth, into a swamp of suspicion.
Drowsiness crept over him under the liquor’s influence. He gently closed his eyes. Deep darkness seeped into his body. Bluish moonlight touched the window.
Early summer insects, bathed in moonlight, leapt across the black night. It was a suspicious night indeed.
Thirsty once more, the emperor rose in his sleep, drank water, and returned to his bed. Out of habit, he tossed aside his bathrobe.
*
Dawn broke over Panaho, mist spreading through the air.
She woke to a sweet fragrance and a warm, soft touch.
Gasp!
The emperor opened his eyes and looked down at the princess nestled in his arms. Her right wrist and ankle were still bound—and he was pressed tightly against her.
Of all the space on this wide bed, why cling so close?
His right arm had gone numb. Her golden hair wrapped around it, and her slightly bent upper body nestled against his bare chest, her cheek resting right on his skin.
What—what is this?!
The emperor had, in his sleep, removed his robe and was wearing only his sleeping trousers as usual.
He knew he should lay her back properly and rise from the bed—but the warmth radiating from her felt surprisingly pleasant. His body refused to move.
He looked down at her, dressed in his shirt.
The maids must have used his favorite bath oil in the washroom. Her thick hair carried the same bath scent as his.
He inhaled more deeply, longer. Faintly, he caught that elusive, intimate body fragrance etched deep in his memory.
Her breath brushed his bare chest. Each time she exhaled, his chest burned.
What… what is this feeling?
Keeping his right arm still, he placed his left hand on the bed and lifted his torso, bringing his face closer to hers.
Sigh… sigh…
He inhaled her exhaled breath through his nose. It was sweet.
That delicate, pointed chin, the line of her throat, her small rounded shoulders, her plump lips—watching her slightly parted mouth, he unconsciously drew nearer, nearly brushing his lips against hers.
Ha! Madness!
He yanked his arm free and bolted upright. The bed rocked, yet the princess slept on undisturbed.
Unbelievable.
Heavy double curtains blocked the light, leaving the room dim.
He stepped toward the head of the bed and glanced sideways at the princess, defenselessly asleep, golden hair scattered everywhere.
Part of the thin linen sheet was tucked between her legs; the rest draped loosely over them.
His eyes traced the curve of her waist as she lay on her side. The shirt had ridden up, revealing slender yet firm, pale thighs.
Except for her bound wrists and ankles, she looked nothing like a prisoner—just peacefully, beautifully asleep.
He scowled and clenched his fists. His racing pulse surged toward one spot.
Turning his gaze away, he left the bedroom and rang the summoning bell in the sitting room.
The emperor entered his dressing room from the sitting room and received his attendants’ service. A servant disinfected the wound on his neck, applied a thin layer of herbs, and wrapped it in plain cotton.
“Your Majesty, it’s summer—the wound may fester. To avoid irritation, perhaps refrain from wearing the dress jacket over…”
“Quiet.”
Over his black uniform adorned with golden insignia, the emperor donned battle gear and a folded pauldron protecting his shoulders and ribcage, then gripped Ahme in his hand.
He gestured for the attendants to head toward the sitting room while he walked down the corridor and entered his bedroom. Carrying Ahme against his chest, he crossed the room but halted midway—unable to approach her as she slept, tousled and vulnerable.
Gulp.
He swallowed an inexplicable anxiety.
Princess, this is your own doing. Now that you’re caught, what should I do with you?
Recalling those hazy days when he couldn’t uncover the truth, the emperor stared at the bed from a distance. After glaring at her pink-tinged cheeks and plump lips, he abruptly turned and strode across the bedroom.
Twins.
He even anticipated that backup forces—not a negotiation offer—might arrive.
Perhaps warmonger Emperor Kazan and Patrick were stationed near Tane’s borders with troops. But even if she’s a shadow princess, using her as bait seems recklessly bold. She could die!
The more he thought, the more questions arose.
Was the princess truly just a phantom—dispensable blood to Emperor Kazan? Could that even be possible?
Come then, Patrick. If you arrive as commander of the reinforcements for war, I’ll gladly meet you. But if you don’t come—if no negotiation arrives—
I’ll march to Tane myself. I’ll hear the excuse from you, who once condemned war’s cruelty, for sending your sister to the battlefield in your stead.
And your twin sister—I’ll take her as my slave.
When yandere male lead believes she loves him — but she never did
“How dare you!”
“How dare you make me love you, only to cast me aside as nothing more than a friend?!?
“I will never accept that.”
“I will never let you return to him.”
“Even if I have to burn myself to ashes.”
“Even if I must shatter my purity, my dignity, my very soul.”
“I will never let you escape me!”
This was the first novel that introduced me to the matriarchal genre. I’ve read it three times already!
At first, the male lead despised the female lead. Later, he misunderstood that she liked him, so he condescendingly and reluctantly reciprocated her feelings.
Then, he suddenly discovered that she was kind to everyone in the same way, and there was already someone she cherished in her heart, and that person was not him.
The male lead couldn’t believe it, he became angry and crazy. He was determined to capture her body and heart by any means necessary.
Synopsis:
Want to see how a green tea bitch male lead falls in love with the female lead?
Want to see how he flirtatiously pursues the female lead?
Want to see how he gets slapped in the face repeatedly?
The male lead is a green tea bitch, a poisonous lotus, jealous, ruthless, unscrupulous, with a venomous heart, and he’s also a delusional maniac.
The female lead is righteous, positive energy-filled, kind, a holy mother.
Let’s see how two people with extreme personalities come together~
_____
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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.