Married To The Enemy Kingdom's Illegitimate Prince-Chapter 69 — Fire (1)

After changing into proper clothes, Cynthia sat before the fire the maids had made for her, warming her hands against the flickering flames. Hearing the door creak open, she instinctively tensed.

"Tell His Highness to sleep. I can’t meet him tonight; it’s late."

"So you know it’s late?" Lucian’s voice cut through the silence that soon fell in the room.

Cynthia jolted upright, forcing a smile despite her irritation at his unexpected visit.

"What brings you here, Your Highness?"

"First, you attended a tea party outside the mansion without notifying me, and now you come home late. What am I supposed to conclude from this?" He crossed his arms, a frown deepening on his face.

Cynthia blinked, his words not fully registering. "What?"

She gasped, quickly correcting her tone. "Excuse me?"

"Your Highness, do you always do this?" Lucian demanded, his gaze travel over her thin nightgown, which clung to her curves despite its modesty.

"Do what?"

"Stay out late when I’m not home," he said, his voice dropping. "I mean, I always find you at the entrance. I doubt you might be..."

"You’re not making any sense," she sighed, sitting back on her bed and wrapping a towel around her body.

Lucian sat beside her, the silence stretching between them until Cynthia broke it with another sigh.

"Your Highness, I’m tired. Why don’t you return to your room?"

"Are you... throwing me out?"

Cynthia rose again, grasping his hands and pulling him toward the door. "Of course not! How dare I kick you out? I just want to rest... alone." She paused, catching her breath.

Before he could respond, she closed the door in his face.

"She... definitely kicked me out," he muttered, narrowing his eyes. Without giving her action much thought, Lucian headed to his quarters.

Once arrived in his bedroom, Lucian lay on his bed, stared at the ceiling, unable to shut off his thoughts. One person lingered in his mind—Princess Cynthia.

"Her demeanor was strange... Well, when hasn’t it been?" he scoffed, but worry crept in.

"Worry?" He gasped at the thought. "No way. I can’t worry about her. She’ll think I’m starting to—" He clenched his fist.

Keal’s laughter echoed in his mind, making him flinch.

"What are you laughing at?"

[You’ve lost it, Lucian! You were supposed to show her that she is no longer in her country where she can do as she pleases, but you did nothing.]

"How could I? The tea party wasn’t even here! She went to someone else’s estate. Maybe the mansion isn’t big enough for her parties," he mumbled. "She is a princess–"

Keal laughed louder. [Why does it matter whether the mansion is large enough or not? And did you see the state she was in? Very suspicious...]

"Keep quiet."

[And what about the coachman? She came back without a carriage. Count Gionhard’s mansion is far; she couldn’t have managed without a carriage or teleportation magic in this weather. It isn’t like she mastered teleportation magic either.]

"Shut up, Keal." Lucian clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes tightly.

[Ignore me if you want, but I agree with the king. What if she’s planning to kill you? Can you really trust her?]

Lucian didn’t reply, hoping Keal would finally be silent. He had begun to trust her—at least a little—and he didn’t want that to shatter.

And I’ll verify her words tomorrow. I don’t blindly believe everything. I’ll investigate and decide whether to trust her... or not.

***

The next morning, Lucian practiced swordsmanship alone at the training ground, swinging his blade with intense focus. It had been two days since he last fought monsters, as he had been preoccupied with Count Gionhard, who stirred trouble among the commoners, turning them against him.

The count used his marriage to Cynthia, the princess of Eldoria—an enemy kingdom—to incite resentment. The townspeople couldn’t accept Lucian as their new lord because his wife belonged to Eldoria, the very country responsible for the deaths of their family members and the hardships they had endured for a decade. It was difficult to convince them to accept Cynthia when he himself struggled to accept her as his wife.

However, Adrian and Fiona assisted him on the matter and things went smoothly.

Lucian inhaled deeply, whispering magic spells he had learned over the past months. A flicker of red light flashed from his sword, and with a sharp strike, he shattered the wooden puppet before him.

Clapping interrupted his concentration, and he flinched, turning around.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, the light fading.

"I was looking for you as soon as I woke up," Cynthia said, her smile unwavering.

Annoyed, Lucian turned away and resumed his practice, swinging his sword with such strength and speed that it was hard to follow with the naked eye.

His sword skills rivalled magic.

Cynthia watched, her eyes tracking his every move. "That was a good move."

Lucian shook his head, sweat dripping down his face. "You’re talking as if you know about swords." freeωebnovēl.c૦m

Cynthia chuckled softly, stepping closer to trace the blade’s edge. "Is that what it looks like to you?"

He pulled the sword away from her reach. "You’re going to hurt yourself."

"My, how thoughtful," she teased.

Lucian scoffed, drawing the weapon further back. "You’re the kind of woman—" He hesitated.

That cannot be trusted.

He kept his thoughts to himself, knowing they could spark an argument.

"I’m the kind of woman that... what? Finish your sentence, Your Highness," she prompted, forcing a brighter smile to mask her irritation.

He claimed to trust her, yet he doubted her every word.

"You’re the kind of woman who doesn’t seem to know how to hold a sword," he lied, despite knowing she had swords of her own.

Cynthia fell silent, her hands trembling slightly. Lucian opened his mouth, then closed it again.

She must be cold.

"I doubt you came here to talk about swords. Why don’t we head to the audience hall and resume our talk?" Lucian suggested, sighing.

"No. I want to watch you train."

"Your Highness, I don’t like it when strangers watch me practice," he said, clenching his jaw, trying to look out for her despite her stubbornness.

Wait. Why should I care if she’s cold or not?

With no answer to that, Lucian dropped his sword to the ground, surprising Cynthia.

Before either of them could speak, a voice called out from afar.

"Your Highness!"

A tall, manly figure rushed their way. It was Glain. He bent over, bowing respectfully to the grand duke and duchess, struggling to catch his breath.

"What is it?" Lucian demanded, raising an eyebrow. It was rare to see Glain so worked up.

"Something must have gone wrong in the forest," Lucian mused, his gaze fixed on his subordinate, waiting for an explanation.

Having finally caught his breath, Glain took a deep inhale. "Well," he hesitated, his eyes flickering toward the grand duchess.

The last time he had seen her, she was sobbing inside the carriage a few days ago. At first, he hadn’t thought much of it. But when he saw the cold and unbothered expression on her face yesterday and she didn’t return to the mansion by sunset yesterday, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He had tried to piece it together ever since, but with no success.

Cynthia met his gaze with a slight awkward grin. He was the last person she wanted to face. The memory of him bursting into the carriage flashed through her mind, and she felt her composure waver momentarily.

"Should I leave?" she asked once she noticed the hesitation on Glain’s complexion, glancing between the two men.

"No." Lucian’s response was firm. "I intended to get you involved. After all, you’re the grand duchess. You need to know what’s happening in your own land."

Cynthia’s smile faded, taken aback by the unexpected reply. She wasn’t sure how to react—whether to smile in appreciation or to maintain her calm composure and show she was worthy of such an important responsibility. It was the first time Lucian had actively sought to include her in a matter of importance, and she didn’t want to ruin it at any cost.

"Then... I’m listening," she said softly.

Lucian nodded, turning his attention back to Glain.

"Go on."

"That place... where the missing people kept visiting that I reported to you earlier... it’s been burned down. The fire is spreading rapidly throughout the forest. We tried to put it out, but even with our magic, it seems impossible."

"What?!" Lucian and Cynthia exclaimed in unison, their shock mirrored on their faces.

"Just when I thought I’d handled the situation with the commoners and they would keep quiet for a while..." Lucian muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"But, Your Highness," Cynthia interjected, her voice steady, "there may be a way to stop it."

Lucian and Glain turned to her, their eyes intent and curious, waiting to hear what solution she had in mind.

"And what would that be?" Glain demanded, unable to mask his annoyed expression.

He didn’t want to express his opposition openly to the grand duchess meddling in Erion’s affairs in front of the grand duke; however, he could no longer hide it. Who did she think she was? She didn’t even possess magic powers, nor did she seem capable of finding a proper solution when the knights had been struggling all night to put out the fire.

"Let’s hurry and get there before the forest burns to ashes. There’s nothing better to fuel a fire than dead trees," Cynthia stated firmly.

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