Captured into the Bedroom of the Enemy Emperor (1 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 7
The Emperor grasped the gold-decorated doorknob of his bedroom and took a deep breath.
Stay away, Patrick. I’ll keep the princess by my side—forever.
The Emperor handed the key to his butler.
“Move the princess to a guest room—no.”
He roughly swept back the black strands of hair that had fallen onto his forehead.
“Leave her as she is. Untie her hands but replace the foot bindings with leather straps. Show her respect, yet never let your guard down. She’ll be looking for a chance to escape.”
When the Emperor finished his meal, the butler set down a cup of Earl Grey tea and a sugar bowl.
“Give three lumps of gold to the blind lutenist crone.”
“Your Majesty, the blind old woman left straight through the castle gates last night.”
“She couldn’t have gone far. Find her and have her stay within the palace.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
Normally, the Emperor would drop a single sugar cube into his tea before it cooled and drink it immediately. This time, however, he placed the sugar cube directly into his mouth without putting it in the cup. The gritty texture dissolved instantly on his tongue, sweet beyond measure.
So sweet. And her lips—slippery as water.
Hah… I’ve gone mad.
As he exited the dining hall, he saw two maids giggling while holding out a pair of men’s trousers and a shirt. They were the same maids who had attended the princess yesterday.
“What’s that?”
The maids, just as flustered as the day before, bowed hastily and replied it was Princess Tane’s clothing.
She planned to flee dressed as a man?
“Burn it.”
Then the Emperor ordered the butler to contact the capital and have ladies’ dresses and necessities prepared.
“The capital? That will take quite a while…”
“Ensure they’re provided in sufficient quantity.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
The Emperor intended to invent a pretext to keep the princess detained.
Emperor Kazan, the warmonger, had conquered kingdoms across the Arcan continent one by one, taking whichever queens or princesses he fancied as bedroom slaves.
When Emperor Kazan crossed Tane’s border with his troops, King Valenti of Torun met him accompanied by Princess Aldisha, renowned as the most beautiful woman on the Arcan continent.
They arranged a royal marriage at the Margrave’s castle. Thus, King Valenti preserved his kingdom through this union.
It was a famed epic of war on the Arcan continent—well known to all.
He’d dismissed it as distant history, yet now it stood right before him—the twin daughters born to that beautiful princess.
Patricia.
The Emperor whispered her name aloud and pressed his index finger against his own lips.
Kalip was waiting, holding the Emperor’s warhorse Khan.
“Any movement from their side during the night?”
“Quiet. According to our assessment, about three companies have shifted positions.”
“They invaded with fewer than a thousand soldiers?”
“We haven’t yet accessed the southern Red Forest near Panaho, the initial engagement zone. Our reconnaissance covered the second and third engagement zones—north of Panaho and the entrance to Victor Mountain.”
Kalip handed over a report detailing the number of Tane’s dead soldiers as well as casualties and wounded among Karsik’s troops.
“Tane alone lost over fifty soldiers.”
“There are likely more casualties near the Red Forest.”
“What about the prisoner we released yesterday?”
“He stopped by the Red Forest and crossed the border around ten last night.”
“So they’ve finally sent out their hidden Shadow Princess ahead into enemy territory? What about the Crown Prince and the Second Prince? It won’t be a negotiation—they’ll send reinforcements. Prepare accordingly. Capture Emperor Kazan, the Crown Prince, or the Second Prince—any of them alive.”
“I’ll await your orders.”
“Have you interrogated the royal guards captured yesterday in the Tamil Valley?”
“Yes, they believed their commander was Crown Prince Patrick.”
“Where’s Tane’s deputy commander?”
“We confirmed he’s stationed at the Red Forest barracks.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
As the Emperor prepared to spur his warhorse Khan at the castle gate, he paused and looked back. His bedroom window was directly in view—and the curtains remained tightly drawn.
Rest easy, Princess. You certainly sleep a lot.
“Open the gates! His Imperial Majesty departs with his warhorse Khan!”
“Har Chen! Har Chen! Har Chen! Har Chen!”
The guards at the gate shouted “Har Chen!” as they lowered the black chain and opened the gates.
The Emperor spurred his black warhorse Khan, who reared his front hooves, shook his gleaming black mane, and galloped forth.
*
Har Chen! Har Chen! Har Chen!
Har Chen? Patricia, half-asleep, mistook the chant for a familiar song and began humming along—then suddenly snapped her eyes open.
“…Har Chen!”
The moment she sat up, a metallic clink sounded from her wrists.
‘Ah, this place…!’
She’d been captured and brought to the enemy Emperor’s bedroom.
Patricia reproached herself for having dozed off so deeply on this plush bed after ten days of fitful sleep in military tents.
‘This is absurd—I’m facing death itself… Patrick!’
“We greet Princess Tane—you’re awake?”
Two maids standing at the foot of Patricia’s bed approached the head of the bed.
One helped Patricia sit up and propped a large cushion behind her back. Her arms felt stiff from being bound to the bedpost.
When the other maid tugged a cord, the butler entered and unlocked the manacles with a key.
Patricia expected him to free her ankles as well, but seeing him replace the restraints with leather straps, she straightened her posture sharply.
“What are you doing?”
“His Majesty ordered us to replace them with leather straps.”
“Please request an audience with His Majesty.”
“His Majesty left early this morning for the battlefield.”
This was disastrous. Though it was fortunate the Emperor was absent, the thought of being confined with her ankles bound filled her with dread.
“I’ll bring your meal.”
After the butler left, Patricia rose from the bed. Fortunately, the leather strap around her ankles was fairly long. She gauged its length and moved around the room as far as it allowed.
She could pass through the dressing room into the bathroom and return to the bedroom, even reaching the sitting room window.
The only possible exits led through the bathroom, or the windows of the bedroom and sitting room.
Patricia went to the window and opened it.
From her observation yesterday, this room was on the southeast-facing third floor. The main gate was directly visible from the window, equivalent to the 8 o’clock direction when viewed from outside the castle.
She leaned close to the window and scrutinized the castle walls.
Two guards stood at each turret, and the moat appeared slightly over ten meters wide.
If they kept venomous snakes in the dungeon, they likely released them into the moat as well. The wall height looked about eleven meters—just taller than the moat’s width.
Built with uniformly sized square stones and tightly sealed with glistening quartz, the walls sparkled in the sunlight. Sharp black iron spikes crowned the parapets.
Juniper trees, planted as ornamental evergreens, stood like green hoods at regular intervals outside the walls.
Patricia studied the fortress walls intently—built with the solid, opulent masonry befitting the golden Karsik Empire—and glared at them with sharp eyes.
‘I’m perfectly trapped.’
Four soldiers stood before the main gate, and over fifty more practiced with wooden swords in the open field right beside it.
‘Patrick said Emperor Har Chen of Karsik had no will for war. Hmph—does he have soldiers to spare? Ah… Patrick.’
Thinking of Patrick made her heart race, yet she knew there was nothing she could do immediately.
Patricia ate her meal slowly, savoring each bite. Recalling how she and Eva, following their mother’s example in the West Tower, had eaten low-volume, high-calorie meals, she now ate heartily.
After finishing the sliced fruit and apple pie, Patricia asked the maids whether they’d promised to bring her comfortable clothing. The maids hesitated before replying.
“His Majesty ordered us to discard those clothes and dress you in his shirt instead.”
“When will His Majesty return?”
“He didn’t say.”
Having finished her meal, Patricia examined the spines of books in the Emperor’s bookshelf in the sitting room. She pulled out books, skimmed through them, and returned them to their places.
She sat at the mahogany desk, picked up various pens, dipped them into ink from a bronze inkwell, and wrote on scrap paper.
She drew a detailed sketch of the walls, ramparts, main gate, moat, and trees. On the juniper tree located at approximately the 4 o’clock position inside the fortress, she drew a small arrow.
The maids sat side by side on chairs placed just inside the sitting room doorway, silently watching Patricia.
Naturally, they kept close watch on every move of the enemy leader held as their prisoner.
One maid, looking uneasy as Patricia casually rummaged through the Emperor’s desk and scribbled with his pens, quietly stood up.
She approached the princess, peeked at the sketch, then left the sitting room to report to the butler.
“She’s pulling out books from the shelf and drawing pictures on paper with pens from the desk.”
“She’s probably just bored. There are no important documents here anyway—if there were, they’d be locked in the desk drawers.”
“She didn’t open any drawers.”
“Keep watching carefully.”
“Yes.”
Patricia dozed off and woke repeatedly while perched on the windowsill, gazing up at the sky. Then she turned her head toward the sitting room.
“Are you both from the Hoon Tribe?”
When they confirmed it, Patricia told them not to sit idly but to find something to occupy themselves.
The maids exchanged glances and whispered. One slipped outside while the other approached Patricia, who sat on the windowsill.
Patricia lifted herself off the windowsill and leaned further out.
‘…Bri! Eden sent you! Yes… it’s possible!’
Her pulse pounded fiercely as she spotted Bri, the white eagle she’d trained herself.
“Your Highness, it’s dangerous. Please step back.”
“Come here. Do you see that bird over there?”
The maid stepped closer to the window.
“Yes, it’s a very large bird.”
“It’s a white eagle. But why is its beak yellow?”
“I didn’t even know it was an eagle, much less that its beak was yellow.”
“Could you possibly get some chicken or turkey from the dining hall?”
“For that eagle?”
“Well… maybe?”
“Will it come down?”
“Let’s try luring it. I’m bored anyway.”
“Your Highness, when Jane arrives, I’ll go down to the dining hall.”
Soon, a maid named Jane entered carrying a basket filled with cloth, thread, and sewing supplies. Rian gave Jane a meaningful look, saying she’d go to the kitchen, and left.
Patricia kept her eyes on the eagle circling leisurely in the sky while swiftly jotting a note on the back of her fortress sketch. She folded the paper lengthwise neatly and rolled it up.
Rian returned with pieces of smoked chicken and placed them on the windowsill. The eagle spread its massive wings and glided calmly but didn’t descend, perhaps unable to catch the scent of meat.
“Don’t the Hoon Tribe handle birds?”
“Usually the men do. I think they do it like this and make a sound.”
Jane pinched her lower lip between her thumb and index finger and whistled.
Whew.
The sound came out, but weakly. Rian and Patricia tried mimicking Jane several times, but only faint gusts of air escaped their lips instead of whistles.
Whew-whew. Whew-whew.
My Arch-enemy Sealed My Memory and Said That He is My Husband
This is an incredibly captivating story that you absolutely shouldn’t miss! I’ll give a brief introduction here, and below you’ll find a detailed synopsis of the plot.
The female lead is a fierce and powerful demon king. The male lead is a once-in-a-millennium celestial lord, admired by the entire cultivation world.
They are equally matched, legendary rivals who have battled for centuries.
In the final duel, the female lead is gravely injured. The male lead saves her, seals her memories, and hides her true identity. He tells her that he is her fiancé. His entire life has been flawless—except for the one thing he never expected, never controlled, and never wanted to control: falling for his greatest enemy. She is his inner demon, his obsession.
When the female lead regains her memories, she is furious at his deception.
She makes his life a living hell.
And somehow, the male lead—possibly a total masochist—doesn’t mind at all. In fact, he’s happy she’s paying attention to him.
Yep, we’re back to my favorite trope: male lead suffering. If you love this kind of story, jump into the pit with me now!!!
Intro
Dong Xia lost her memory.
Her handsome and extremely powerful fiancé Li Qing comforted her: “It’s okay if you can’t remember. I’ll always be with you.”
Everyone thought Dong Xia’s ancestors must have burned incense to get such a perfect fiancé. He was the number one person in the immortal realm, yet he remained chaste and only loved her.
…
The day before marrying her fiancé, Dong Xia finally remembered everything.
She wasn’t suffering from memory loss at all.
Her arch-enemy had made her fake her death, destroyed her cultivation, replaced her memories, and pretended to be her deeply in love fiancé.
No wonder he said, “It’s okay if you can’t remember”!
Dong Xia laughed coldly as she pulled out her long knife: Li Qing, prepare to die 🙂
*
Li Qing, as the supreme being of the immortal realm, was the people’s shining beacon.
The only unknown stain in his life was his affection for Dong Xia, the ruler of the demon realm.
In the final battle of the war between immortals and demons, the sky collapsed and the earth shattered. The ruler of the demon realm was finally slain under the sword of the supreme being of the immortal realm, and everyone in the immortal realm applauded.
The cultivation world lost a ruler of the demon realm.
And in the back mountain of Li Qing’s cave dwelling, he secretly hid away a fiancée.
Notes:
1. The female lead is white on the outside, black on the inside, and the queen of flattery; the male lead repeatedly tests the edge of darkness, a VIP guest at the crematorium.
2. Fantasy cultivation world setting.
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
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.