Chapter 4 Unexpected Tenderness
1450 Words
Meryl placed the purchased herbs on the table, her eyes filled with concern. "My lord, have you been injured? If you're hurt, we must summon a doctor immediately."
Gwen waved her hand. "It's him."
Meryl: Never mind then. She had run here in a panic for nothing.
Gwen skillfully took out the potion cauldron, flicked her wrist, and used her magic to transform the herbs into a concentrated liquid that floated in the air and precisely dropped into the narrow opening of the potion bottle.
In the end, it all coalesced into a bottle of light green, sticky liquid.
"Here, drink this."
The moment Gwen withdrew her magic, she suddenly felt a blankness before her eyes.
She handed the potion to Lancelot and sat down, leaning against the sofa back, unconsciously rubbing her temples.
Strange.
This wasn't the first time such a thing had happened. Since her rebirth, her magic had been unstable.
It was like a small bottle nearing its capacity. At any moment, it might spill out uncontrollably and even backfire on her.
Perhaps it was the cost of rebirth…?
"My lord? My lord?" Elay called out to Gwen. Seeing no response, his tone became slightly anxious. "Are you alright?"
He entered after knocking, ready to report on the findings of the knightly order's investigation in Westminster. But when he looked up, he found an empty gaze in his lord's eyes.
"Ah… huh?"
Gwen briefly regained her senses from the dizziness. She saw with confusion a flicker of lightning on her fingertips, like a small lightning snake flicking its tongue at her.
"Hmm…" She first smiled at Elay. "I'm tired. Come back tomorrow to report."
The knight captain's light brown eyes were full of concern as he bowed and retreated. "Yes, my lord. Please rest well."
Gwen exhaled a sigh of relief.
Fortunately, Lancelot had awakened her in time; otherwise, Elay would surely have noticed something.
She hadn't told anyone about the abnormality in her magic yet.
"Thank you," she nodded slightly to Lancelot as a gesture of gratitude.
Lancelot furrowed his brows slightly, stepped forward, and placed his broad palm on her forehead, gazing down as he sensed her strange magical fluctuations. "What's going on?"
Her magic was disorganized and chaotic within her, extremely abnormal.
"I'm not sure…" Gwen helplessly replied. She now felt cold all over, but still managed to force out a reassuring smile. "Maybe I'm just too tired."
Lancelot swallowed the words of concern on the tip of his tongue. He didn't seem to have the obligation to care for her.
Gwen summoned the palace maid waiting outside and instructed her to take Lancelot to the guest room to rest.
Lancelot glanced indifferently at the maid and stood rooted to the spot, ignoring her and only looking down at the golden curls atop Gwen's head. "Where do you live?"
"On the second floor. The master bedroom in the middle."
"Shouldn't we live together?" Lancelot asked with a straight face, yet his words were astonishing.
The maid, seeing this, hastily retreated in a panic, closing the door tightly behind her.
She had heard something incredible… Would the princess kill her to silence her?! The maid broke out in a cold sweat. Gwen's smile instantly froze on her face. She raised her hand, then lowered it, finally suspending it in mid-air, her lips parting and then closing again.
She couldn't answer this question!
She could only shake her head. "I don't understand what you mean."
Her hands and feet were now cold, but her face was flushing. "We're not officially married yet. So…"
"You've misunderstood," Lancelot found her current demeanor amusing, even lightening his tone.
The princess was really inept in matters of the heart. It… made him want to tease her.
"You did promise not to harm me. But others can still be hostile towards me."
"The look in your knight captain's eyes was not very friendly."
Lancelot looked melancholy. "I'm only safe when I'm with you, isn't that right?"
Gwen: … Please, he didn't need to portray himself as so fragile!
Did this tyrant have a delusion of persecution?
Living together was out of the question, but she could think of another solution.
She personally led Lancelot to an empty room at the end of the third floor, confidently found a loose brick in the wall, and pressed it. The wall moved aside, revealing a hidden door. Behind the hidden door was a dark, deep tunnel.
She had discovered this when coming to the Westminster palace for a vacation as a child. It was said to have been built by a certain King of Linxi for his mistress.
Descending through the tunnel led to the master bedroom.
Lancelot was finally satisfied and nodded.
Gwen felt dizzy and naturally returned to her room through the tunnel, changed into a comfortable white silk dress, lay down, and curled up into a ball. She was wrapped in a soft, thick down quilt. But she couldn't stop shivering.
There was only one thought in her mind.
She needed to quell this strange magical fluctuation as soon as possible.
Because the current situation in the kingdom did not allow her to rest easy. The noble conference would convene in a year. At that time, the heir to the throne would be officially announced. If news of her unstable magic spread… it would undoubtedly affect Tyr's reputation.
No one would support a prince without magical talent and a princess with unstable magic, even if their inheritance rights were legitimate.
The struggle for power has always been so cruel.
No… She struggled to sit up and adjust her breathing.
Lancaster stood at the door of the secret passage that hadn't been closed yet, his eyes deep and dark, then he sighed softly.
Dammit, he was still worried about her.
There had been cases where magicians suffered life-threatening dangers due to abnormal magical power.
However, she obviously didn't want the news of "unstable magical power of the princess" to spread. As a royal family whose every move was scrutinized, abnormal magical power was not a good thing.
So she insisted on doing it herself.
Hopefully, it's just a normal fluctuation of magical power… He comforted himself and closed the hidden door.
She probably… didn't want him to find out too.
Though he already had.
He closed his eyes, his thoughts tangled, his long lashes trembling slightly. After a while, he finally got up again and pressed on that special brick.
Just standing there, he could feel the violent magical fluctuations coming from below.
Gwen gasped for breath. Her eyes were glazed over. The side of the sheet she was gripping had, somehow, become coated with a thin layer of frost.
So cold, so sleepy.
Her eyelids felt heavier and heavier.
She just wanted to sleep for a while…
Once the thought popped into her mind, it lingered and repeated. She felt her control over her magical power weakening, and her body swayed, collapsing softly onto the bed.
Her long curly blonde hair spread out over the dark sheet, like a serene oil painting.
"Princess?"
She couldn't open her eyes. She could only vaguely hear someone talking, but she couldn't make out the words.
Lancaster tried calling her several times, but there was no response.
When he touched her wrist, it was icy cold, devoid of warmth.
If she fell asleep like this, no one would know if she would ever wake up again.
He didn't want his newly acquired ally to just die like that!
Between sleep and wakefulness, Gwen felt herself being roughly pulled up, almost lifted, and then held horizontally in someone's arms.
She suddenly snapped back to reality. Uncontrolled and unprepared, she instinctively uttered a name.
"Gilbert?"
Her ice-blue, clear eyes were like covered in a layer of white fog. She leaned in confusedly, trying to see the person clearly.
Hmm…?
Emerald green eyes. Not Gilbert. Gilbert's eyes were red, like blood-red rubies.
She thought fuzzily, but her nose inadvertently brushed against Lancaster's forehead. Her soft blonde hair also scratched his earlobes with a delicate itch.
This person was warmer than Gilbert…
Gilbert? It sounded like a man's name.
Lancaster briefly froze, his face darkening, a dangerous glint passing through his eyes. Heh… he didn't know who this person was that the princess was still thinking about at such a perilous moment for herself.
Gwen, unaware of her slip of the tongue, flopped softly in his arms, her eyes closing again, ready to faint once more.
"Don't sleep," Lancaster said, placing her abruptly on the hard dressing table.
"Gwen Akerman," he sneered, addressing her by her full name for the first time. "Who gave you permission to die now?"
- Writer
