Rebirth: The unfavored Princess is the Tyrant King's favorite-Chapter 23: Because it’s you

Hushed whispers began to move around since the name Florendel had been heard recently by everyone these past few days following the prince’s absence from the wedding with his princess consort.

"Isn’t the Princess Consort from Florendel?" Lady Evelyn voiced what everyone was speculating about in what seemed like a whisper, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. Nicholas sent a scathing glare in her direction, and she shut her mouth, but it didn’t stop people from speculating in their minds.

Of course, he knew Luciana wasn’t behind this; she had been the one who told him to increase security around his mother. Also, from Samira’s words, it’s been about two months since Martha brought the incense; Luciana wasn’t married to him then.

The most important thing was that the mastermind who was planning to create doubts between him and Luciana didn’t have all the information; Luciana was not a real princess of Florendel; she had married him for an entirely different reason.

But he still felt like he was forgetting something, and then a fog cleared up in his mind; during that gathering of kings several years ago, he remembered an incident that happened between Noble Consort Margaret and the queen of Florendel. It’s just that he didn’t remember the exact details of the incident.

It happened on the first day of the 3-day gathering, and it had nearly caused a war. Fortunately or unfortunately, that incident was brushed under the rug after the empress’ incident came to light. He knew Noble Consort Margaret was the one who feared his mother recovering the most.

But even though he was suspicious and had been finding evidence against the woman for a long time now, she was too careful, always leaving no trace behind.

Martha saw the chest she had not seen before and began to plead for her innocence.

"Your Highness, someone is framing me; I have not seen this chest before; it is not mine!"

"I won’t repeat my question: Who gave you the incense?"

"Your Highness, I..." Martha began but stopped herself; she had not seen the chest before, but would he believe her?

Noble Consort Margaret was indeed vicious. It had just been about an hour ago when she was caught, but she had already efficiently shifted the blame to the new princess consort. But why her? Forget it. She was about to die; she should worry about herself.

She couldn’t fight against someone like the noble consort, but dying at the hands of the eldest prince was worse.

In the next moment, Martha pulled out her hairpin and thrust it towards her neck, about to commit suicide, but she was too slow for someone like Nicholas. Nicholas swiftly threw his dagger at Martha’s hand, and she dropped the hairpin, letting out a piercing howl with the dagger sticking out of her palm.

"Guards! Drag her to the lower prison; I’ll torture her personally," he snarled in fury.

~~~

Blood-curdling screams that sounded like that of a pig being slaughtered pierced through the air from the lower prison in the eldest Prince’s manor. The wails were so terrifying that the men who stood guard outside the prison walls felt their scalps going numb as they imagined what must be happening.

Some servants who were in the vicinity trembled in fright as their hearts hammered against their rib cages after hearing the horrifying sound.

Nicholas pulled out Martha’s last fingernail, making up 10 fingernails, and his handsome face showed no signs of repulsion. Apart from his darkened countenance as he inflicted torture on Martha, which wasn’t much different from his usual cold face, one would think this was a usual occurrence in the Prince’s life.

After enduring until now, Martha couldn’t take it anymore.

"I confess, Your Highness, I confess everything!" Martha desperately yelled. ’The prince just needed a culprit, right? She should just give him a name; it would even make the Noble Consort happy if she found out, and she would not harm her family. If she confesses, the prince will give her a swift death and take her out of this misery.’

"It was... It was..." Her eyes interlocked with the prince’s bleak and intimidating gaze, and her heart sped up in fear. Stammering, she stuttered out, "It was... it was the princess consort, your new bride."

"Wrong answer," Prince Nicholas growled, and his sword went through her chest, just missing her heart by a hair’s breadth. He wanted to torture her more before killing her.

"You wasted your last chance," he said, and the bloodcurdling screams began again. When Nicholas came out of the prison, he looked like a bloody murderer with wet patches of blood all over his black robes and face.

His men instinctively made way for him as he walked away with a menacing aura that clung to him like the grim reaper that was going for people’s souls.

~~~

When Nicholas arrived in his chambers and unsheathed his sword to clean all the blood, he saw a movement in his peripheral vision and swiftly turned only to find her little body curled on his bed. She began stretching and trying to pry her eyelids open.

He would have found it to be a cute sight if he wasn’t in a foul mood with blood all over him. He had forgotten she was here in his room and had not cleaned up himself before coming. He was sure if she saw him with all the blood, she would be scared and even want to leave his presence, but what was he expecting?

’After how he treated her so roughly earlier today and left her in this large room all alone by herself, it wouldn’t be a surprise,’ he thought.

He stared at her nonchalantly, already expecting her repulsed and fear-stricken face; instead, she grabbed him with a worried look on her face, the complete opposite of what he had been expecting.

"What happened to you? Are you hurt? Who did this to you?" She asked a string of questions in one breath, and his heart shook.

’Luciana, if you are lying to me, make sure you are going to pretend forever,’ he said inwardly.

"I’m sorry for grabbing you like that, Your Highness," she said, lowering her gaze, taking a step back, and breaking him out of his thoughts.

"I will leave you to take care of your wounds," she said and was about to leave his presence when he finally said one word, "Stay."

Without warning, he grabbed her wrist, dragged her towards a chair, and sat down. Luciana stiffened at his touch, but she tried not to show it. He took a towel and wet it before stretching it towards her.

"Wipe the blood off me," he said. Luciana should have found this to be a daunting task considering she hated bloody scenes the most, but thinking he was hurt, she carefully began to wipe off all the blood, and when she saw his perfectly clear handsome face, neck, and hands with no signs of cuts, she frowned and looked at him in confusion.

"You’re not hurt; this is not your blood," she said, turning his palms over and watching his clean face.

"Is that disappointment I hear in your voice?" He taunted, his voice dropping to a dangerously low decibel.

Luciana immediately shook her head to deny his words, seeing the dissatisfaction on his face, "I didn’t."

"The wounds are beneath my robes. Why don’t you undress me and see for yourself?" He stood up from the chair and asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. ’This was a perfect opportunity to test her,’ he thought.

"No, that’s improper," she said, and he smirked, suddenly not feeling so gloomy like he had been feeling a moment before. She felt like home, something he had been missing.

"You are my wife; what’s improper about undressing me?" He asked, gesturing to his body.

The color on Luciana’s face could put all shades of red to shame. She blushed fiercely, especially when she recalled Nicholas’ firm chest, strong and sturdy broad shoulders, and his great body she had seen a few times in her past life.

"Undress me."

"Wh... What?" Luciana stammered and took a step back, but he took one closer.

"What? You don’t want to do it? You weren’t taught how to serve your husband?"

"How to serve your husband?" She repeated, her brain conjuring up different ways one can serve their husbands. The thought made her feel hot all of a sudden, and she wanted to escape his presence.

"I’m not going to undress you," she declared.

He watched the expressions that ran across her face and how her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, making her look undeniably cute. Yet he gritted his teeth to suppress the smile that threatened to break free. He wanted to see just how far she could withstand his teasing before getting angry if he kept pushing.

"What kind of training did you receive that, as a wife, you can’t even undress your husband?"

Luciana didn’t know what to say at this point, but she was feeling angry and glared at him. ’Was he saying she received improper training?’

"It is not my job to undress you; why don’t you call your maids, who are in charge of that?" She snapped.

Nicholas hated people dressing him, so after he was mature enough, he stopped using those types of maids; he liked to dress himself most of the time. Anytime he had an official duty and needed to dress more elaborately, Peter sometimes helped him out. But how could he tell Luciana that?

"It will feel like I’m cheating on you if I allow other women to touch and undress me," he said, and Luciana nearly rolled her eyes. He already had 3 other wives apart from her. Who was he lying to? The thought suddenly made her angry.

"Do what you must; I won’t think you’re cheating on me with them," she said.

In the next second, he expertly untied the cloth strings, letting the outer robes cascade to the ground, leaving him in an especially thin robe that was almost transparent enough and his toned chest, muscles rippling and tightening as he rolled his shoulders with a commanding grace. Luciana gulped, realizing his intense gaze had not strayed from her for even a second as he stripped.

Luciana felt like meat on a chopping board, seeing how his intense gaze locked onto her, hunger radiating from him as if he were a predator stalking his prey. She instinctively took a step back, but he advanced with calculated grace, closing the distance between them. Before she realized it, she had hit her legs against the corner of the bed, and she stumbled backward, about to fall.

But Nicholas was faster; his hands went behind her waist and held her in place, pulling her into an embrace.

"Let go of me!" She protested, seeing their intimate position.

"I will not."

"Why not?"

"Because it’s you, you’re mine, Luciana; I’m never letting you go; I’m not having it any other way," he said, and in the next moment, his lips claimed hers in a fervent kiss.