Garden Of Poison-Chapter 203: After attendance of the suitors

Emily’s hand automatically touched her hair as if to ensure she still looked presentable, even though only ten minutes had passed since she had left her room. Raylen led her to the parlour before coming to a stop right before the doors and moving aside to allow her to enter first.

When the doors opened and Emily stepped inside, Raylen remained at the entrance. Her eyes immediately fell upon the gentleman named Clark Valentin. The man had light brown hair, and was sporting a moustache that elegantly tapered and curled at the ends. As he caught sight of her, he quickly rose from his seat and made his way towards her. And the closer he drew, the more the man’s stature seemed to shrink, accentuating his short height.

"Good afternoon, King Raylen. Good afternoon, Lady Emily," the man greeted them with a deep bow.

"Good afternoon, Clark," Raylen replied at the same volume as he had used with Emily. He continued, "A beautiful day, isn’t it?"

Clark nodded with respect, keen on presenting himself in a favourable light, as he was in the presence of the king and his beautiful niece. "It is a wonderful day, My King," he acknowledged. He then turned his attention to Emily and apologised, "Forgive me for not visiting you sooner, Lady Emily. If I had the power, I would turn back time to have met you yesterday."

"I would have liked that," Emily responded with a smile, though it faltered slightly.

"Unfortunately, none of us can turn back time, and one needs to accept the consequences of their actions," Raylen remarked as he stepped into the room. His taunt didn’t escape Emily’s notice, and she continued to maintain her smile, which now appeared a bit strained.

Mr. Valentin, however, believed the remark was directed at him, and he bowed once again, saying, "Of course! I take full accountability for it and can only hope to make up for the lost time."

"You are a responsible person, Clark, unlike many who tend to say and do things and then conveniently disregard them," Raylen responded in a calm and charming manner.

"People of that nature are terrible, and I have no inclination to associate with such conduct," Mr. Valentin replied in agreement. He then turned back to Emily and inquired, "Wouldn’t you agree, milady?"

"Yesterday has passed, and we can choose to put it behind us," Emily replied to Mr. Valentin’s query. "Today is a new day, and it presents us with a fresh start. Shall we take a seat?" she inquired, gesturing towards the couch. However, before they could sit down, her gaze shifted to Raylen, who had settled on the other couch and began reading a book.

It appeared that Raylen would be the one playing the role of their chaperone today, Emily thought to herself. Despite the focus of their conversation being Mr. Valentin, they were, in a subtle manner, engaging in an indirect conversation with each other, all while the poor man remained unaware of their exchange.

Emily didn’t want to reject any potential suitors who approached her without a valid reason. The privilege of choosing her own life partner appeared to be slipping away, so she resolved to find a husband for herself before additional gossip could be woven into the existing rumour. She couldn’t help but notice Mr. Valentin’s intense gaze, his eyes staring at her in full attention without a single blink, brimming with eagerness.

As her nose tingled once more, she moved her hand to cover her mouth and let out a sneeze, "Ah—choo!" The force of the sneeze not only startled the man seated in front of her but also dislodged a few delicate strands of hair that had been carefully tucked away before she departed her room.

Mr. Valentin became visibly concerned, and he asked, "Are you feeling well, Lady Emily? You seem to have caught a terrible cold!" He observed the woman’s watery eyes.

Emily paused for a moment before donning a smile, gracefully smoothing her hair, and placing her handkerchief gently on her lap. "Pardon me," she said. "It must be the weather, as I am not yet used to it." As the words left her lips, she sensed Raylen’s gaze on her, and she could practically imagine him raising his eyebrows at her little fib.

"Oh, indeed. Versailles tends to be hotter and sunnier," Mr. Valentin remarked. He then suggested, "I believe a touch of lemon and ginger will make you feel better. Would you like to take a moment to rest?"

Emily’s gaze briefly shifted to the trolley, where a pot and an empty teacup were placed. She wondered when the man had arrived and how long he had been waiting for her to wake up. She smiled at him and responded, "No, I am perfectly fine. If necessary, I will take a nap later. Moreover, I wouldn’t want your kind effort in visiting me to go to waste."

Someone in the room sure had a way with words, despite nursing a hangover from last night’s drinking, Raylen thought as he casually flipped the pages of his book. His eyes briefly shifted to look at the man, who appeared touched by her words.

"That is very considerate of you, Lady Emily, but it would trouble me deeply if you were to fall ill," Mr. Valentin responded with genuine concern. "I sincerely hope you feel better soon."

"Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Valentin," Emily acknowledged before inquiring, "If I may ask, what kind of qualities are you looking for in the woman you seek to marry?"

Mr. Valentin adjusted his posture, sitting up a little straighter, and cleared his throat. "My family, much like yours, is distantly related to the Queen of Taurus, milady. We have numerous servants to help with the upkeep of our estate, as well as another valuable mansion in the North. Well, it used to be valuable, but currently it is not in a habitable state after the battle that took place between the current King of Versailles and the Elder ministers."

"That must have been terrible," Raylen commented, turning to look at them.

Mr. Valentin nodded solemnly, saying, "Indeed, it was. It was a historic house that had been gifted to our family by one of the most highly esteemed ministers, who now rests beneath the ground. My uncle said the battle was unnecessary and that the king shouldn’t have resorted to killing them while causing extensive damage to the entire town." He then returned to their earlier conversation, adding, "But there is no need to worry, Lady Emily, as we have ample resources to support our future family, provided you agree to marry me."

Emily stared at Mr. Valentin in response before saying firmly, "The battle wasn’t unnecessary, Mr. Valentin. The current queen, King Dante’s soulmate, was abducted. You cannot expect him to sit quietly while the Elder ministers committed such a heinous act!"

Mr. Valentin gazed at her with a hint of astonishment, taken aback by her fervour regarding the subject, while Emily’s headache only intensified throughout the rest of their conversation. After Mr. Valentin departed, Raylen remarked,

"You almost bit the man’s little head off there, Princess."

Emily pressed her hands against her temples, applying gentle pressure, when the sound of approaching footsteps drew near to her and the couch she occupied. She pulled her hands away and saw Raylen seated comfortably beside her, even though there were many other empty seats available in the room. She asked,

"Why are you sitting here?"

"Hm? Is there an issue with me sitting here? You can climb on my lap, but I can’t sit on the same couch as you?" Raylen questioned, feigning an appalled expression. Emily felt an overwhelming desire to bury herself at that moment, and her cheeks burned bright with mortification.

Emily saw the archdemon taking pleasure in her suffering as a devious smile curled on his lips. She offered him a tight smile and replied, "Can we forget about last evening? I think it woul—"

"I want to oblige you, Princess," Raylen responded, clicking his tongue. "However, Ray Ray happens to have an eidetic memory. I can’t simply forget things once I’ve seen or heard them." He noticed her glaring at him and added with a hint of humour, "Are you contemplating strangling or stabbing me?"

"Strangling, as it is slower," Emily retorted, and her words were met with a hearty chuckle from Raylen.

"How cute," Raylen responded with an amused glint in his blue eyes. He continued, "Who knew you were hiding the wild child in you all along? It was a sight to behold. If you’d like, I can have someone fetch another ’Cherry on the Trees’ for you."

The memory of his earlier compassionate words flew out of Emily’s head, and she realised how he deliberately got on her nerves to appease his dark desires. She sighed and conceded, "Fine, go ahead; make fun of me to your heart’s content." She had, unknowingly, dug her own grave.

Raylen watched Emily, who appeared troubled, not due to his words or their encounter from yesterday, but rather because her conversation with Mr. Valentin hadn’t gone well. Although the princess wouldn’t express herself as openly as she had last night, he could tell that she sensed it was a dead end with the earthling.

Leaning forward, he poured water into a glass, and he brought it before her. "Drink."

Emily locked her gaze onto his for a moment before accepting the glass from him and softly murmuring, "Thank you."

As she started to sip the water, Raylen remarked, "I must say that the men courting you are being deceived, believing you to be a quiet, soft-spoken woman who knows nothing related to daggers and are anticipating you will make an obedient wife."

As she drank the water, Emily momentarily paused and shot him a glare over the rim of the glass. She said, "That’s quite rich coming from someone who dispenses flattery as frequently as the waves crash upon the shore."

"I call it boosting people’s self-esteem," Raylen replied with a smile akin to that of a saint.

"And I call it inflating people’s heads to get your way," Emily retorted.

Raylen’s eyes lit up, and the smile on his lips widened. He found himself enjoying her company more than he had expected, a feeling that had been growing since their first conversation. Unlike many who easily fell for his words and charm, she was always on guard. And in a way, she and Dante were similar in that regard.

"You know, Princess, you possess all the qualities a woman requires—that is, even despite the rejection from the soulmate situation," Raylen began, his blue eyes closely watching her slender neck as she swallowed the water until the glass was empty. He continued, "You are pretty; you seem to have all the right attributes in all the right places. You are articulate, and you come from a respectable family." He added, "The distant relative of the Storm King," pointing at himself. "But there’s a hitch."

Emily, who was listening attentively, asked, "What?"

Raylen responded bluntly, "You are a doll."

He elaborated, saying, "There’s nothing inherently wrong with being a doll, but a doll is typically seen as pretty and reserved, just sitting there quietly. And I highly doubt that you aspire to be someone’s decorative wife, unless I am wrong, which is rare. So, just be yourself; there’s no need for you to hide behind the tower that’s been constructed around you. Speak what you feel, whenever you feel it. "

"You do know that we women are not brought up in the manner you are suggesting," Emily stated, and Raylen nodded in acknowledgment. When her father was still alive, there was a part of her that was concerned and distressed by the thought that her marriage would be used for political purposes. It wasn’t just her; many other women had been raised similarly. "It isn’t easy to change who you are in a day or in a week."

"You have a habit of suppressing your emotions. Do you know what happens when someone continues to suppress their feelings without an outlet? It begins to eat away at them, and they corrode," Raylen remarked with a contemplative hum. "You speaking your mind will not only test the men around you, but it will also make you stand out from the rest of the sheep."

Emily gazed at the empty glass in her hand. She knew it would be much harder in practice than in theory, but if Raylen was genuinely serious and it could lead to the right kind of attention to secure a marriage, then maybe... maybe it could work? She then turned to him and said,

"I can give it a try." Then she furrowed her brow and murmured, "It is like we have become friends," with him giving her advice. It was a strange thought.

"We’re not friends," Raylen asserted firmly, drawing the line, uninterested in developing any kind of relationship between them. They were fine with just the way things were between them now. Not to mention, anyone who got close to him always died at his hands. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

"Yes, just acquaintances," Emily agreed because she felt his friendship would cost her blood, and she had no intention of being part of his meals.

As Emily reached to set the glass on the table before them, Raylen observed her body leaning forward, her lips slightly parted, and her cheeks flushed with a delicate rosy hue. Her hair cascaded in gentle waves down her back, and a faint smile graced her lips. In that moment, he couldn’t help but be reminded of a snowflake he had once caught between the bars—soft and delicate at first glance, yet revealing intricate details upon closer look, he thought to himself.

She appeared a little more relaxed now, and he doubted it was because of the lingering effects of alcohol or his words. It seemed she had taken his advice to heart, perhaps because her resolve had weakened in light of her impending cold.

"AH—CHOO!"

"You are going to shake and demolish Mr. Valentin’s grand mansion with that sneeze of yours," Raylen remarked, prompting Emily to slowly turn and fix him with a narrowed gaze.

"Please tell me you fall sick too," Emily said, adjusting herself and briefly feeling her eyes water.

Raylen chuckled. "Oh, wouldn’t you wish I did."

Before Emily could respond, there was a knock on the door, and in came Westley. He informed them, "Master, Mr. Ardolf is here to meet the princess."

Upon hearing the man’s name, Emily looked surprised. She had expected to see him yesterday, and when he hadn’t shown up, she believed his interest in her had died. Raylen instructed, "Bring him in. Let us see if his excuse is any better than Clark’s."

Soon, Julius Ardolf was escorted into the room, wearing an unmistakable look of guilt. He offered a bow to them, and Emily returned it with a quiet nod.

"It appears you have arrived just in time for lunch, Julius. Let us take our conversation to the dining room," Raylen said, as he was aware that Emily hadn’t yet eaten.

Julius looked guilty and offered an apology, saying, "Forgive me for appearing so late. I will be more than willing to wait until—"

"I said we would continue the conversation in the dining room," Raylen reiterated as he smiled at the man. Feeling somewhat unnerved, the earthling nodded in agreement.

They were soon seated at the table, with Raylen at one end, Emily at the other, and Julius in the middle, looking uncertain about which side to direct his attention to.

"Do you like cake, Julius?" Raylen asked nonchalantly.

Julius turned to face the king and replied, "I don’t believe I would mind having some—"

"There’s no cake being served," Raylen interrupted, his blue eyes staring curiously at the earthling. "You seem to be a busy man. Too much work at the camp? Or perhaps within the house?" he inquired, his elbow resting on the table while his hand supported his chin.

Julius appeared tongue-tied, and he began to explain, "I meant to come yesterday at this time to avoid overwhelming Lady Emily, knowing how she has been sought out by numerous gentlemen. However, as I was about to leave after finishing my work, my mother heard some distressing news, and things didn’t go as planned." He then swiftly turned to look at the princess and added, "But everything has now been resolved, and my mother, who fell unconscious from stress, is doing well."

"I am sorry to hear that, Julius," Emily said, not wishing to be the source of discord between a mother and her son.

One of Raylen’s eyebrows rose in subtle surprise. They were on a first-name basis already? How interesting, he thought to himself.

"You should have stayed by her side. I would have understood," Emily said to the man.

"That’s fine. My sister is there to look after her," Julius responded. "My sister is eighteen. Her name is Olive, and I think you will like her."

"I will. Perhaps I can meet her sometime." Emily was glad to be able to discuss something other than people’s mansions and connections, as she sought to build a mental connection before considering a physical one.

"Emily here has five siblings. They are very protective of her," Raylen pointed out while the maids began to bring in the food.

Emily stared at Raylen, who stared right back at her. So he did know she had protective siblings, because there were moments when it seemed that he had forgotten. She then shifted her attention back to Julius, who seemed nervous as he addressed her,

"Lady Emily, I hope you will still grant me the chance to court you despite not showing up yesterday, as I had promised I would."

"Are you not bothered by the fact that I am someone’s rejected soulmate?" Emily inquired, wanting him to be sure and not change his mind after being swayed by people’s words.

Raylen picked up on a hint of vulnerability that went unnoticed by Julius. The earthling replied, "It doesn’t, Lady Emily. However, there is something I need to know... Is the bond severed for good?"

Emily replied, "Yes, it has been severed. Mr. Lynx’s chosen soulmate is Lady Layla, and he is bonded to her."

Julius appeared relieved, a smile gracing his features, and they proceeded to enjoy their meal as it was served.

After lunch, Emily and Julius took a leisurely stroll in the garden under the watchful eye of Westley, who left the earthling feeling uncomfortable. When it was time to depart, he bowed respectfully and left in his carriage while the princess returned to the castle.

In a slightly better mood but beginning to feel a bit sluggish, Emily softly hummed to herself.

"Looks like Ardolf managed to put the sparrow back in a good mood," Raylen remarked, appearing from another corridor that intersected with the one she was in.

"It is comforting to know someone listens," Emily responded.

"Oh, Princess, everyone listens in the beginning before they go deaf. It is in the nature of earthlings, demons or not," Raylen replied with a smile. "Now, about that promise you made yesterday."

Emily said, "I appreciate your advice and assistance, King Raylen, but you should understand that it is wrong to take advantage of a drunk person."

"Forgive me, but I didn’t realise I was the one who got you drunk," Raylen quipped sarcastically. "You disappoint me. You made a deal with an archdemon, so why don’t we ensure it’s fulfilled?"

Emily shook her head and attempted to walk away from him, but her body froze, refusing to move. Her eyes widened with surprise, and she turned to look at Raylen, who wore a mischievous grin.

"A deal is a deal."

Emily gritted her teeth, knowing she couldn’t blame him. It was her own drunken self’s doing! She felt her body begin to stagger, as if she could move again.

"Where is Goril—Gloria or Beatrice?" she inquired, quickly fixing Gloria’s name.

"They will arrive later. Why miss an opportunity when it presents itself?" Raylen asked her in return.

"Or make it present itself," Emily muttered under her breath. Raylen stepped in front of her, wearing a cunning smile. "You enjoy making me suffer," she accused.

"Soothes my dark soul," Raylen agreed, and he requested, "Your hand."

Standing in the middle of the corridor, Emily gingerly raised her right hand and placed it in his, feeling his fingers gently wrap around hers. She felt her heartbeat quicken, as she had never been bitten before, and the sight of his sharp canines only filled her with dread.

Emily watched as Raylen lowered his mouth to her wrist, and she winced as his sharp canines sank into her skin, feeling the sting of the initial prick. She could feel him sucking out her blood, and her other hand gripped the side of her dress as her face reddened with embarrassment at his deed. When he finally pulled away and his grip on her loosened, she quickly withdrew her hand.

"The deal is now complete!" she exclaimed, and sprinted away from there as fast as she could.

Raylen stood still, the taste of her blood vivid in his mind. He ran his tongue across his lips and licked the finger that had traced the bite mark.

"How interesting." A dark chuckle escaped from Raylen’s lips before he remarked, "It tastes like fucking cake."