WTPB - Chapter 13




Erdene stared blankly at her wrist, which was caught by Arkan, and then raised her head to look at him.

If it had been an imperial adjutant or subordinate who knew her temper, they would have immediately bowed down and begged her, saying, “Instead of my arrogant wrist, cut off my neck.”

Arkan was also startled by his own unexpected behavior.

And he was surprised again when he saw Erdene’s blue eyes and gaze.

It was a cold and mocking gaze as if someone was being thrown to the floor.

'It’s not a gaze that would make her husband in a week, but rather an enemy whose neck must be cut off tomorrow. It’s like she’s mercifully giving a death row inmate her last meal.'

Arkan thought.

On the other hand, he was secretly surprised that Erdene’s wrist was thinner than he had thought.

Her hands were by no means as delicate and soft as those of other Princesses or noble ladies.

The moment he caught her, he could tell that she had been training her whole life.

Even Arkan, who had no particular knowledge of martial arts, was like that.

“How long will you hold me, Your Majesty? Since we haven’t had a wedding yet, you can’t take me to the bridal chamber like this.”

When Erdene, who had been silent, added a word, Plat felt like fainting.

However, Arkan calmly let go of her wrist as if nothing had happened... and smiled... even though his mouth twitched slightly.

“I didn’t mean to. But since this is our first... time to eat together, I thought it would be good to at least have a toast.”

“What kind of tickling toast is that...?”

Erdene muttered under her breath. Of course, Arkan heard it all.

She tried to refuse outright, but when she saw Arkan’s face staring at her, she suddenly felt her heart change slightly.

Besides, this wasn’t a battlefield.

It wasn’t a place where you could even taste the alcohol, let alone raise your glass elegantly. What good would happen if you toasted?

Erdene unconsciously stared at Arkan’s eyes which were shining with firearms, coughed, and pushed her glass toward him.

Arkan raised his hand slightly to Plat, who was trying to approach him in a hurry, and filled Erdene’s glass himself.

It wasn’t wine.

It was clearly a fruit-infused liquor, but it felt like a strong drink, just as Plat had said.

It was especially so because the scent was subtle yet vivid and didn’t disappear.

Arkan lifted his glass slightly.

“Then...what should I toast to?”

Erdene immediately answered as if she had been preparing for it.

“How about a toast to the eternal broken horn of Hirschsten?”

Arkan’s mouth unexpectedly smiled, even though she was openly sarcastic.

He tilted his wrist slightly, and his glass briefly touched Erdene’s glass with a cheerful sound.

“To the eternal peace of the empire and Vetor. To the land of the continent where no more useless blood is shed, let us toast.”

At that moment, Erdene’s face turned slightly red.

Arkan was even more blatant in his blatant sarcastic remark.

“This guy is absolutely not a match.”

Erdene muttered to herself again, tilted her glass, and drank the alcohol in one gulp. She could only feel a sweet scent for a moment.

The alcohol that tickled her throat and warmed her stomach immediately hit her.

“This is good.”

Erdene spoke with satisfaction in the easygoing tone she used with her adjutants.

She looked at Arkan for a moment because the words came out without her knowing, and for some reason, he looked at Erdene with a serious expression on his face and held his glass...was staring.

“...Why are you looking at me like that?”

With a thud, Arkan’s goblet was placed on the table.

Erdene blinked in slight surprise when she saw that his lips, which had been smiling without stopping for a moment—it was a desperate effort—were shut straight.

“I like alcohol too, Princess.”

“So?”

“I knew from my brief experience tonight that the Princess also likes alcohol, but... In my opinion, the Princess does not enjoy or love alcohol, but rather is someone who just wants to get drunk.”

What kind of bizarre talk is this? Erdene stared at him blankly as if she was dumbfounded.

“I drink alcohol to get drunk. What, are you drinking it to throw up gold the next day?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s okay to drink to get drunk. It can be a problem if you drink too often. What I’m talking about is the way the Princess enjoys drinking. Alcohol, especially good alcohol, has always been about tasting the aroma first.”

At that point, Erdene decided it would be better to ignore Arkan’s story.

The moment she reached out for the bottle to fill another glass, Arkan surprisingly snatched the bottle away faster than she did.

Erdene glared at Arkan, astonished.

“What are you doing now, Your Majesty the King of Vetor?”

Arkan placed the bottle far away, where Erdene could never pick it up without moving his butt, and continued speaking.

“I don’t know much about alcohol either. However, I do have a philosophy for enjoying alcohol. Just like good tea, good alcohol has its own narrative in its aroma.”

He’s talking too much. Erdene thought.

Philosophy, epic, they were words from fields she absolutely loathed and had no interest in.

However, Arkan stubbornly preached his 'philosophy of alcohol' to Erdene.

"There was a poet in the inland named Scap. There must have been some people in the empire who had heard his poetry. He was an eccentric who had traveled all over the place. That Scap once wrote and sang this song. 'Good alcohol is like a peaceful morning before a storm. Those who do not fully enjoy it are engulfed in regret and sorrow'..."

Arkan's voice, which had been reciting poetry in a clear voice, suddenly stopped.

Something flashed and flew vertically toward the table.

It was a sharp stiletto. It was sharp up to the brim, but the handle was blunt and looked quite heavy.

The stiletto had pierced a plum the size of a child's fist and was sticking out on the other side.

Erdene nodded, taking a bite of the plum stuck in her stiletto.

“This sounds interesting. Keep going. I’m listening.”

Arkan finally felt his patience running out.

It was something that rarely happened in his life... except when he listened to the endless whining of the Marchioness of Fiddler and the bragging about her youngest daughter.

He looked at Erdene, who was still sitting in a slovenly posture, and then held up his fork and said,

“You can eat the plum with this.”

“It’s up to me how I eat it. If I don’t use a fork, these fresh, sweet plums won’t rot and fall apart right away.”

Arkan looked a little more stern at Erdene’s bold answer.

To Erdene, it was more of a funny sight than anything... but it was none of her business.

Arkan said,

“Taking out your stiletto is not only not table manners, but it doesn’t seem to help with hygiene. Besides, what if you cut your tongue while eating like that?”

Then this time, Erdene smiled faintly.

“I’ve cut off many other people’s tongues with this, but I’ve never cut off mine. I appreciate your concern, but it’s unnecessary to worry.”

Another brief silence flowed.

Erdene thought that Arkan would have grown weary by now, and that was exactly what she had hoped for.

Even if it was inevitable that they would get married, she didn’t want to share a bed with this slick and unpleasant man forever.

‘He’s going to get up now. Huh, the weak men from the inland pretend to be generous...’

However, Erdene’s prediction was pleasantly wrong.

“That doesn’t seem like much to brag about.”

For a moment, she doubted her ears.

Arkan didn’t get up from his seat, nor did he get angry at Erdene’s words.

Instead, in a voice that was incredibly peaceful, he asked Erdene... So what do you want me to do?

Erdene put down her stiletto and frowned.

“What did you say?”

Arkan shrugged his shoulders and answered.

“Cutting off a tongue is something anyone can do with a dull knife, right? As if threatening someone like that is a big deal.”

Was you really crazy?

Erdene blinked twice as if she found it absurd. She had never thought Arkan would act like this. Really, not even once!

Erdene, who was glaring at him with her eyes tightly shut, said,

“Your Majesty King of Vetor, you are a noble and peace-loving person, but you speak so easily even though you have never cut a chicken’s neck. Isn’t preaching something that anyone can do?”

“I didn’t mean to lecture you, Princess. I was just stating the truth. As you said, I’ve never cut off a chicken’s neck, but I’ve caught a rabbit. It’s a horrible feeling to take the life of a living thing. That’s why I don’t hunt. Maybe the reason I hate war is because of that memory. Because of the horror I felt when I killed a rabbit.”


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