Shackled To The Enemy King-Chapter 47: Too Stuck In The Past?!

Catherine clutched the bracelet at her wrist, half-expecting it to react.

Nothing happened.

No warmth. No pulse. No warning hum beneath her skin.

At least for now.

So his emotions hadn’t affected it. That woman had been right about this, at least.

What Maximilian felt, however, remained sealed behind iron doors.

***

Maximilian himself was still caught in the aftermath.

He couldn’t decide what unsettled him more: her utter disregard for authority, or her complete absence of self-doubt.

She had no identification. No official standing. No rightful place in this university. And yet she occupied space as if the world naturally bent to make room for her. She spoke without fear, without hesitation, and commanded a hostile room as though it were hers by birthright.

It wasn’t arrogance. He would have recognized that instantly.

This was simply... who she was.

Was it the residue of her previous life? Was she too stuck in the past?

And if she was still shaped by it... still ruled by instincts forged long before this world, and if that past version of her despised him...

That wasn’t good.

Not at all.

And for reasons he couldn’t yet name, that realization lingered, heavy and persistent, even after the lecture hall fell into silence.

***

"Hello?"

Catherine waved a hand in front of his face, her tone light, almost teasing. "Shall we leave?"

Only then did she truly take in her surroundings... a lecture hall. A space she had entered without permission and somehow claimed without resistance.

A faint smile tugged at her lips.

She had enjoyed talking to the girls. They were young, bright, overflowing with life, and unburdened by consequence. So carefree. She couldn’t imagine a world where having a professor one harbored a crush on attending a club meeting constituted a crisis. And they had resorted to blackmail... and won!

She had always lived with heavier problems pressing at her throat. Problems that demanded blood, bargains, or sacrifice.

Still, there was something precious about silliness.

Being foolish was a kind of blessing.

What unsettled her more was Maximilian.

He hadn’t stopped her. Not once.

This was his domain. His authority. And yet he hadn’t intervened, hadn’t corrected her, hadn’t even hovered, prepared to reclaim control. He had simply... allowed her to act.

As though he trusted her.

She wasn’t certain even Alexander would have granted her that freedom in his own sphere of power.

Maximilian, on the other hand...

He probably would have let her face the consequences if she had failed.

No... She halted that thought.

He would have faced them with her.

The memory surfaced unbidden, of him standing beside her earlier, his presence subtly but unmistakably shielding her from the lightning.

This time, he hadn’t protected a situation... He had protected her.

Only her.

Whether it was calculation or instinct, she couldn’t tell. But it stirred something dangerously soft in her chest, something she had no business indulging.

Her foolish, maiden heart fluttered before she could restrain it.

And that...

That was precisely the problem.

She couldn’t afford to shorten the distance between them any further.

Not now. Not ever.

Focus, Catherine, she warned herself firmly.

Because whatever this was...

It was already becoming far too dangerous.

-----

That evening, as they walked back across the campus, Catherine’s gaze snagged on a distant building gleaming softly under the lights.

Dr. Eileen Morcant Building.

The name shimmered against glass and steel.

"Is that the Physics Department?" Catherine asked, slowing her steps.

Maximilian followed her line of sight and nodded. "It is. Want to go there?"

"Do you think Dr. Morcant would still be inside?" she asked, her voice carefully casual, though her fingers had already curled faintly with anticipation.

Maximilian lifted a brow. A smile touched his lips, one she couldn’t quite read. "You like her?"

"Like?" Catherine’s eyes widened as if he had gravely underestimated the matter. "Like isn’t even close." She clasped her hands together. "I admire her. I respect her. I revere her. She’s my role model."

Their fields were worlds apart, but Dr. Morcant, like Catherine, had come from nothing resembling a legacy. She had forced doors open that had once been sealed tight, back when women in physics had to fight twice as hard just to be seen.

Maximilian smiled. "Is that why you’re trying to follow in her footsteps?" he asked lightly. "Marrying into a legacy family?"

The air shifted.

Catherine stopped walking and turned to him, clearly offended... not for herself, but on Morcant’s behalf.

"I know she married into a legacy family," she said sharply, "but she made her name through her work. Not through her husband." She pointed toward the building, eyes blazing. "That building is named after her. And I’m certain she didn’t pay a single penny for it... unlike the Remington family."

"Alright, alright," Maximilian laughed, lifting his hands in surrender. "I won’t say another word about your precious role model."

"You better not," Catherine huffed.

Then, just as quickly, her irritation dissolved. Her smile widened, eyes lighting up with unmistakable awe.

"I wish I could meet her at Winthorp," she said softly, almost to herself.

Maximilian hid his smile behind his hand. "You will. She attends every year."

Catherine spun toward him. "You’ve met her? She knows you?" Her questions tumbled out one after another. "Will you introduce me to her?"

He shrugged, suddenly far too composed for someone enjoying this far too much.

Catherine grabbed his sleeve and shook him, abandoning all dignity. "I want to meet her. I really want to!"

He laughed. "Alright. I’ll introduce you," he conceded. Then he leaned closer, voice dropping. "But who knows? She might have already heard of you."

"She might?" Catherine lifted her brows, delighted, until realization caught up with her. Her smile faltered. "The incident at the symposium..." she muttered, pouting. "That sort of drama spreads fast in academia."

Maximilian leaned in, close enough that his voice brushed her ear. "Let me tell you something," he murmured. "I have a feeling she’d take your side over Renfield’s."

Catherine blinked, surprise flickering across her face.

"Really?" she asked softly, hope threading through her voice.

"Just a feeling," Maximilian replied, smiling.

"What’s the need to be so... mysterious?" she asked.

That smile again.

The corner of his lips curved in that unreadable way, and something about it made Catherine bristle. What was with him and that smile? She huffed lightly, then turned and walked ahead of him, chin lifted, steps quick.

She took a few strides before something felt... off.