A Barbaric Proposal Chapter 62

※Unsuitable Wedding Coat※

The connection was undeniable. Klima had told her the truth: the Kleinfelters had held his mother hostage, a leverage they used to force his hand in their dark deeds.

[Liene] "Then you should still be afraid. If you lose your life now, your son will never recover. You were the only thing anchoring him. Think of what will happen to him if his anchor is cut loose."

[Henton] "H-how... how do you know? How could you possibly...?"

The woman was indeed the wife of the knight, Sir Henton.

[Henton] "What have you done with my boy? Did you... The daughter of Arsak... did you hurt him?"

Madam Henton’s hand trembled as she reached out, clutching at the hem of Liene’s skirt. She was so deathly pale she looked as if she hadn't seen a sliver of sunlight in twenty years.

That, too, is my sin.

Liene thought, a bitter taste in her mouth.

The reason the Hentons had been forced to discard their name and live as ghosts in the Kleinfelters' shadow traced back to the rebellion two decades ago.

[Liene] "Klima is safe. His innocence has been proven, and he will be returned to your arms soon."

[Henton] "Oh... gasp..."

A wet, jagged breath escaped the woman. Relief and confusion warred in her eyes as she stared up at Liene.

[Henton] "But why? Why would a daughter of Arsak...?"

[Liene] "Klima told me everything."

[Henton] "He did? Then... then you... Is it true? Could it really be...?"

The woman’s pale brown eyes shook with terror.

Liene understood the unspoken question. To Madam Henton, twenty years ago felt like yesterday. To her, a daughter of the Arsak line—the heart of the rebellion—was a nightmare more potent than any Kleinfelter.

[Liene] "Through our marriage, the Lord of Tiwakan will become the co-ruler of Nauk, Madam."

Liene was careful to omit the name Henton. Too many people still needed to believe that family was dead. Even in a castle full of her own people, the secret was a live coal.

[Liene] "I believe his bloodline must inherit the right to rule this land. And it will happen."

[Henton] "But... I don't... how? Is that even possible? A daughter of Arsak would allow that?"

[Liene] "Precisely because I am a daughter of Arsak."

Liene bowed her head slightly, a gesture of profound respect for the woman her family had ruined.

[Liene] "I am aware of the debts I must pay. You and your son are part of that burden. I will protect you both with everything I have."

[Henton] "It can't be..."

Madam Henton wasn't the only one struggling to believe her.

[Flambard] "Your Highness? Are you going to protect her after she butchered the wedding coat? Who is this woman? She could have been sent here specifically to sabotage the ceremony!"

[Henton] "Wedding coat?"

The stranger's gaze sharpened, turning cold and jagged.

[Henton] "This was the coat King Arsak wore at his coronation! How could you...!"

[Liene] "Ah..."

The words hit Liene like a physical blow. The realization dawned on her with sickening clarity.

What was I thinking? 

She had intended to dress Black in the very coat her father wore when he took the throne by force.

She remembered the subtle, heavy silence that had fallen over Black when she first mentioned the wedding attire.

Why did he agree to wear it?

He should have refused. This cloth must smell of blood to him.

Why does he hide everything?

Why does he let me stay so blind?

[Liene] "Where is it?"

She began scanning the floor frantically.

[Flambard] "Your Highness! What are you doing?"

[Liene] "The shears... where are the shears?"

[Flambard] "The shears? They were... Ah, there. But why do you want them?"

Madam Flambard moved to pick them up, but Liene pushed her aside with a strength that bordered on manic. She snatched the metal tool from the floor.

CLANG.

The blade grazed her palm as she gripped it improperly, but she didn't feel the sting.

[Flambard] "Your Highness!"

Liene drove the blade into the wedding coat.

RIIIIIP!

[Flambard] "Your Highness! Stop! Oh, gods!"

The Madam’s screams sounded as if they were coming from underwater. Liene’s mind was a cacophony of white noise and boiling blood.

This is madness. Our relationship is just like this coat.

The past—the killing, the betrayals—it doesn't go away.

There will be more people like Madam Henton.

People who will hear I love him and laugh at the absurdity of it.

They’ll ask me what right I have. What right do I have to love the man my family destroyed?

I know. Claiming I must do this because I am an Arsak is a lie.

I’m just terrified. I’m scared that once he knows everything, he’ll take back the heart he gave me.

That he’ll never look at me the way he does now.

That the fire in his eyes will turn to ice.

That he will look at me and see only the daughter of his enemy.

SHRED! SNIP! THUD!

She knew that tearing the silk wouldn't tear away the past. But she couldn't stop. She wanted to butcher it, to reduce it to scraps until it vanished from the earth.

STAB. STAB.

Before she knew it, she was holding the shears like a dagger, plunging them repeatedly into the ruined garment.

[Flambard] "Your Highness! Stop, please! PRINCESS!"

The Madam’s shrieks suddenly became clear as a hand clamped around Liene’s wrist.

The grip was iron. The shears were wrenched from her fingers and tossed across the room.

[Black] "Calm down."

[Liene] "...?"

The voice vibrated in her ear—the low, resonant timbre she feared would vanish like a ghost every time she closed her eyes.

[Black] "Even if you hate the thought of this marriage, don't do this to yourself."

[Liene] "..."

Black stood over her, his dark brows furrowed in a mask of pain. But he wasn't looking at the ruined clothes. His eyes were locked on her palm, where the blade had sliced a jagged line across her skin.

---

[Flambard] "There... It's done, Your Highness."

The Madam finished tying the bandage. Perhaps it was the medicine, or perhaps she was still in a state of shock, but Liene felt nothing. No pain, no sting.

[Flambard] "Keep that hand still for a while. I’ll help you wash; don't even think about doing it yourself. Do you understand?"

[Liene] "...Yes."

[Flambard] "Then I shall leave you."

The Madam forced herself to stand, gathering her supplies. She clearly wanted to stay and fret over the wound all night, but she knew she had to yield the floor to the person who needed to be there more than she did.

Once the Madam retreated, Black and Liene were left alone.

The shadows in the bedroom were deepening, but neither moved to light a candle.

Black was leaning against the bedpost, his silhouette tall and imposing in the gloom. It was a long time before he spoke.

[Black] "It’s going to throb. Later tonight."

[Liene] "...I know."

Liene nodded, not knowing what else to say.

The darkness felt heavy today, pressing down on her shoulders. She buried her forehead against her knees.

[Black] "I remember an old story."

His voice was devoid of emotion as he suddenly pivoted to a fairy tale. Liene listened in silence.

[Black] "There was a King who heard a prophecy that his newborn daughter would be killed by a spindle. So, he ordered every spinning wheel in the kingdom to be burned."

It was such a strange thing for a man like him to say, yet there was a thread of clumsy tenderness in it.

He’s telling me this because I’m hurt.

He’s actually trying to comfort me.

[Liene] "He shouldn't have done that. Without spinning wheels, there’s no way to make thread."

[Black] "I'm just glad it was a pair of shears."

[Liene] "What?"

[Black] "The world can get along perfectly well without them."

[Liene] "..."

She looked at him, wondering if he was actually serious about banning all scissors from the castle. He wasn't smiling. Not even a little.

[Black] "Do you doubt I'd do it?"

Oh, gods. He’s serious.

[Liene] "You can't. Madam Flambard would cry every single day."

[Black] "Let her cry. Her tears are irrelevant."

[Liene] "...Perhaps I should just let the Madam handle all the cutting from now on. I promise I won't touch a pair of shears for a while."

[Black] "Not for a while. Ever."

[Liene] "...Ever?"

[Black] "Answer me."

[Liene] "..."

He was dead serious. About something so small. Simply because she had bled.

Why are you like this? 

How can you give me so much of yourself?

What will you do when it's time to take it back?

The more sincerity he showed her, the more savage the eventual loss would be. Not just for her, but for him.

Once you give your heart away, you can never take it back in one piece. It returns scarred and stained.

[Liene] "It will heal quickly. It’s just a scratch."

[Black] "It might be 'just a scratch' to you, Princess. It isn't to me."

[Liene] "..."

Black pushed off from the bedpost.

For a moment, she thought he would come to her, but he stopped. Despite being in the same room, the distance between them felt vast.

[Black] "I have a question for you."

She looked at him, feeling a sudden, sharp pang of seclusion. It felt unnervingly wrong for him to be standing so far away.

[Liene] "...Ask."

[Black] "If the answer is 'yes,' then stay silent."

[Liene] "...?"

[Black] "Do you want to delay the wedding?"

[Liene] "What?"

[Black] "Don't ask questions. Answer me, or remain silent. Do you... Do you actually hate the idea of marrying me?"

The question was as sudden and cold as the distance he was keeping. Liene was so caught off guard that she missed her moment to speak.

Black let out a heavy, slow exhale.

[Black] "I see. Then you should rest."

[Liene] "Wait—"

He turned on his heel. He didn't hesitate, striding toward the door with purposeful steps.

She felt her heart plummet.

[Liene] "No... no, that’s not it!"

She scrambled off the bed, forgetting she was barefoot. She ran to him, her arms reaching out until her cheek pressed against his back.

She gripped the fabric of his shirt with both hands, her knuckles white. Her voice was small, thick with the threat of tears.

[Liene] "It’s not that. Don't walk away. Please, I can't bear it."

He let out a sharp, ragged breath.

[Black] "Then why did you do it?"

[Liene] "...It didn't... it didn't seem right."

[Black] "What didn't?"

[Liene] "The coat. It didn't suit you."

It was a transparent lie. No one butchered a garment with shears just because they didn't like the fit. She realized now how insane her actions must have looked to an outsider.

You fool. He’s going to get sick of your temperament before he even finds out whose daughter you are.

[Liene] "I thought they would look good... but when they were finished, they looked so... old. Faded. It made me angry."

[Black] "..."

[Liene] "I wanted you to have something magnificent, and I failed. I was just so angry at everything. I'm a Princess who can't even control her own wedding... I just... I hated it."

[Black] "..."

Slowly, very slowly, Black reached back and pried her hands off his clothes. He turned to face her.

[Black] "Princess."

[Liene] "Yes."

The lie felt thin and pathetic in the air between them. She couldn't meet his eyes, terrified he would tell her to stop wasting his time with such nonsense.

[Black] "Open your eyes. Look at me. Is that really it?"

No.

[Liene] "Yes."

[Black] "Then why can't you look at me?"

[Liene] "Because I'm ashamed. That you saw me like that... so out of control."

Because I'm terrified. 

Terrified you'll find out the truth and leave.

That you'll walk away and never look back, moving at a speed I can never catch.

That you'll forget me entirely. Cleanly.

Black looked down at her, his gaze unreadable.

[Black] "I don't care what I wear to the wedding. I don't need gifts. And regardless of the Treaty, I've found a way to resolve the issue with the Temple. If we wish, we can marry right now."

[Liene] "Really? How...?"

[Black] "Which means you have exactly one chance to say this."

[Liene] "Say what...?"

[Black] "That you don't want this marriage. Say it now, and I will delay it."

She finally opened her eyes.

[Liene] "That’s not what I want!"

[Black] "Think carefully before you speak. I said you have one chance. If you don't take it now, you will never be able to escape me again."

Liene swallowed hard. Her throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper.

[Black] "Shall I start counting? One...."

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