Would you dance with me my lord? - Chapter 48: chapter 48
Ploca went back to the dawn when they met after they spent the night together.
“Sleep more, Ploca,” Hetiron said.
“Yes…?”
Hetiron smiled softly and patted Ploca’s back. Hetiron whispered a few more words.
“Let’s go out together later,” he said.
“…Yes?” she asked.
“To say we are married,” he continued.
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“I think we need to go to the government office. So, don’t worry. Sleep more,” Hetiron told Ploca. It was a gentle voice. He whispered that it was not a dream.
Ploca smiled even in her sleep. She thought she knew what he was thinking. How he embraced her in his arms and what he would think about at that moment. The time they spent together was long, and their hearts were deep.
The dawn passed silently over a tiny house on the outskirts of the capital on the corner of the street. Warm sunshine entered the window. The bluish yellow color was always fair and soaked into dark the alleys as well.
Suddenly the alley became strangely disturbed. Hetiron heard it in his sleep, but he didn’t care about it, believing it was the same usual noise. The workers were probably waking up.
Unlike those in high positions, the common people had a hard-daily life. Therefore, everyone woke up early in the morning and started their work. Hetiron had to work all sorts of jobs in the early morning as well. In fact, finding a house in the corner of the capital was hard. He had to make money so that Ploca could live without worrying.
He wanted to take care of her until the end. Hetiron kissed her forehead.
The peace lasted until somebody knocked on the door, in that quiet, busy, late morning.
Ploca woke up first. Hetiron seemed to have fallen asleep. Ploca smiled. Her body felt a little stiff, but it wasn’t too bad. Her body was full of traces of Hetiron. Ploca rubbed her thighs.
Before she could feel ashamed, she heard another knock on the door. She wondered who was interrupting their alone time, but she was not annoyed. Her heart was already too full to let in any negative feelings. Ploca dressed properly and walked to the door.
“Who is it?” she asked.
There was no answer. Who would come to their house? She knew some faces in the city, but she had never told anyone where she lived. Ploca cleared her voice again and said, “Who is it?”
She heard a murmuring sound. Ploca squinted and stepped closer to the door. Somehow, she thought that the silence felt sharp. In the end, a deep voice rang out.
“Ploca,” it said.
Ploca knew this voice.
“Mr. Dell?” she asked.
Ploca opened the door wide. The sun was so bright that she frowned slightly. It didn’t take a long time for her eyes to get used to the light. Her narrowed eyes opened wider. By then, Ploca could see who was at the door. It was Mr. Dell, along with two knights.
The knights were wearing uniforms and had swords at their waists. Those were something that Dell had worn when they first met. After that day, Ploca knew that was the uniform of Lanu Lorea. The white embroidery looked appeared on a dark blue uniform. The knight that had a blue badge on his chest opened his mouth.
“Be careful in your speech and behavior,” he said.
It was a cold voice. Ploca cowered because she had not been scolded by others before. Knights, nobles, and harsh attitudes were all unfamiliar to her. The only thing she knew was Dell. Ploca moved her eyes calmly.
“Ploca, come with me,” Dell said.
It was still a soft voice, but she felt that somehow something was strange. Dell was oddly different in his face, tone, and attire.
“To… where?” Ploca asked.
Reading the knight’s face, Ploca opened her mouth with difficulty. The knight frowned as if her tone bothered him again, and he tried to move forward. Dell raised his hand and stopped him. A man who could deal with knights with one gesture? Last time he told her His Majesty had called him. But wasn’t he about to retire? Was he in that high of a position?
Dell was not wearing the uniform of Lanu Lorea.
Ploca somehow felt chilled down to her toes. The clean white and blue colors, the clothes with fine golden color mixed, and Mill Hanuem.
Ploca recalled that Hanuem was a symbol. The woman wore a veiled headpiece, and the man wore a cravat to reveal their nobility. At the moment, a cravat caught her eyes. It was a white eagle on a golden background. Even commoners knew the royal crest. Something made a thump.
But there was no time to feel surprised.
“Don’t you know?” Dell asked.
Dell grabbed Ploca’s wrist and pulled her. Ploca escaped before he fully pulled her in. Dell did not stop her.
Ploca could not continue thinking rationally. Every moment was a series of surprises. When she just recognized his tone had oddly changed, Dell smiled softly.
“Now, you are a niece of Lecco Arte. Also, you are going to marry us this afternoon,” he said.
She was confused. He used the same Skara language, but his pronunciation was too smooth. She knew Dell was a noble, but he had never spoken this elegantly before. She could not grasp what it meant because her attention wandered. Lecco Arte? Marry? It was terribly unreal. Every moment was too long.
Then, Ploca recognized one word.
“Us…?” she asked.
It was a word only the king could use to refer to himself. Mill Hanuem with royal crests, a position that entitled him to give orders to the knights of Lanu Lorea with just one gesture, us… He was the king of Skara, the noblest knight on the battlefield, Hanus II.
“Ah…”
Even the common admirations did not come out. She didn’t know the uniform of Lanu Lorea, but she knew the name of the king. He was the owner of the land she lived on.
“So, we have to go now, Ploca,” he said.
Hanus II noticed her expression and smiled. She must have been surprised. The results were entirely satisfactory, as he had worked for quite some time. He could have done it in an easier way, but he waited and waited until the flower bloomed.
“It will end simpl―” he began to say.
“He-Hetiron!” Ploca called.
Ploca realized she was in a bad situation and yelled desperately. The face of Hanus II sank quickly. The king beckoned to a knight, telling him to take her. The knight nodded and immediately caught Ploca’s wrist.
“What―?”
“Ploca!”
Many words came out at the same time. Ploca was trying to run to Hetiron, but she could not shake the knight off. He was too strong. The knight calmly said that her resistance was not a big deal.
“Follow me obediently,” he said.
Even if she would be a noble, a partner of the king, and a niece of Lecco Arte, she was originally a commoner. The knight treating her informally was natural, and of course, it didn’t matter to Ploca.
“What is…? Ploca!” Hetiron called.
As soon as Hanus II saw him, he laughed strangely. The knight standing next to the king spoke.
“Don’t call her without permission. She is the partner of the king,” he said.
Hetiron ignored his words and ran forward. The knight drew his sword immediately.
“…Please step aside,” Hetiron said.
Hetiron could barely show respect, chewing on each syllable.
The knight, Lecco Violetta, aimed the sword at him with no expression.
“You can’t go any further,” he said.
Hetiron understood the warning, but he didn’t intend to back off. He clenched his teeth. Ploca was already far away. Hetiron looked closely at the end of the alley.
There was a carriage waiting there.
A chill went down his spine. He was terrified. Hetiron stared at the man standing next to the knight with his eyes trembling. He had never seen that man before, but instinctively he realized that the man was the knight who Ploca had spoken about before.
But he was not a knight. <> he realized immediately. <> Hetiron wondered. He narrowed his eyes. Hanus II was still smiling strangely.
At that moment, Hetiron felt like he knew what the king’s intentions were. Hetiron pointed to him with his trembling hand.
“You… Ow!” Hetiron said.
Lecco Violetta swung his sword silently. Hetiron had not dealt with knights before. Lecco Violetta hit Hetiron hard.
“Hetiron!”
In the distance, Ploca cried and yelled. She was close to screaming.
“Do not be rude. Observe good manners in front of the king,” the knight said.
His words were not wrong. It was quite rude not to greet the king of the country as soon as one saw him. <> the knight thought, <> The knight rubbed between his eyebrows. To the knight, Hetiron was no more than an annoying insect.
Hetiron’s vision was blurred with pain. It wasn’t a serious wound, but Hetiron, who had never been cut by a sword before, was shocked. The short time that had passed felt longer. He felt dizzy. How, why had this happened?
“That is enough. Let’s just go,” the king said.
As soon as he heard the king’s casual voice, Hetiron came to himself. <> Hetiron thought. It was that moment that his awe for the king disappeared like a lie.
Hetiron pressed the wound on his waist. He stood up with unsteady steps.
“Your Majesty,” he said.
Suppressing all his emotions, Hetiron called the king. The king looked back, but he did not answer. The knight looked down at him indifferently. Hetiron didn’t know what to say. He did not know how to treat the king. All he knew was that he had to deal with this situation somehow.
So, Hetiron said anything that came to mind.
“What… her…” he began
“What will you do with her?” he asked. But when Hetiron said it, he instinctively realized that it couldn’t be reversed. How dare could he stop the king’s will?
“Will you do…?” he said.
What the h*ll would he do with that little girl? Hetiron choked up. He could not talk anymore. The knight stepped forward.
“That lady will marry the king today,” the knight replied.
He had spoken only one sentence. Hetiron felt like the world had turned upside down. <> he thought.
But Hetiron knew the truth. The king would not know her deep heart. The little girl would end up getting hurt. He knew his place. Commoners stayed with other commoners, and those who were high stayed amongst themselves. Moreover, even though the royal family looked gorgeous, he was told that there was a lot of veiled hostility. He had traveled to many places and learned how the world worked.
So, he knew the terrible truth. The lovely woman, captured by the king of this country, would be endlessly outraged and live her life miserable. <> Hetiron thought.
“No!” he said.
The words inside came out. Hetiron ignored the dizziness and ran to the king. But the knight’s sword blocked his path.
“I will not speak twice. Don’t follow us,” the knight said.
“Ploca!” Hetiron cried.
“Hetiron!”
As she was pulled away, only her voice was clear.
The knight blocked the way. He felt tired and annoyed. He wanted to cut Hetiron down but he was following the king’s orders, so he handled the sword carefully. Hetiron was not able to push the knight out of the way and instead just stamped his feet repeatedly. He didn’t have enough strength. He wanted to do something, but he could not allow blood to flow in front of Ploca. It felt like it lasted a long time, but in fact, it had happened very quickly.
Soon, Ploca had disappeared, as if sucked into the carriage, and Hanus II climbed into it with her. He did not speak with Hetiron at all. Hetiron cried when he saw the king’s smile as the carriage door closed.
The knight did not mind with the man’s scream. The knight spoke to him momentarily then turned his back without regret. Hetiron could not control his body. He collapsed.
“Refrain from actions that do not benefit her. His Majesty will watch you,” the knight had told him.
It was a quick, easy break-up, just like that first meeting.