Staying Away from His Villainous Sight

Chapter 19

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Anastasia?" Kitty's eyes widened in disbelief as he tightly wrapped his arms around me, clearly taken aback and pleasantly surprised. I was so happy to see him. The air was filled with an indescribable warmth, a comforting embrace of our long-awaited reunion, a moment of pure joy and comfort after so much time apart.

Suddenly, the tension in the air was palpable, almost suffocating, sending shivers down my spine. As I took in the alarming atmosphere, I suddenly realized I had utterly neglected Lysias. Whirling around, I was confronted with the sight of Lysias, his entire being radiating fury as he furiously clenched his fist. "How dare a lowly existence like yours utter her name so carelessly, little brother," His words, filled with anger, echoed in the tense silence, intensifying the already thick tension in the air.

"Little brother?" I turned to look back at Kitty, struck by a sudden realization that sent a jolt of surprise through me. His clothing resembled the imperial uniforms meant for the third prince. It was then that it hit me-Kitty is Alexandros, the heroic character from the novel. The puzzle pieces fell into place, leaving me in a state of intrigued shock.

Lysias' hand reached out and firmly grasped mine, pulling me close to his side. He held my gaze for a lingering moment before turning to his younger brother and remarked, "What an unpleasant surprise to see you alive and well, Alexandros."

"I'm sorry for letting you down, my dear brother," Alexandros said, his eyes fixed on mine. The tension was palpable until Lysias finally intervened. "If you have nothing more to add, perhaps it's best to take your leave," Lysias suggested.

"I shall," Alexandros said, his deep voice reassuring as he gently nodded his head in acknowledgment, bidding his farewells respectfully. Just as he turned to depart, a moment of realization swept over him, causing him to pause and glance back over his shoulder suddenly. "Ah, I seemed to forget," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I still have your delicate handkerchief with me, Anastasia," he said fondly.

As he walked away, his figure gradually dissolved into the bustling crowd, making it seem like he had vanished completely. At that moment, Lysias caught my eye with an unexpected touch, grasping my hand. Without a word, he swiftly steered me through the crowd of people, leading me to a place that felt utterly unfamiliar, sending a shiver of unease down my spine. Then, in a sudden and almost mesmerizing display, Lysias performed an ancient incantation that seemed to draw back the fabric of reality itself, revealing a hidden room concealed from sight.

As he guided me into the hidden room, I felt a sense of unease as the door closed behind us, seemingly vanishing into the wall. The room was isolated, the shelves lining the walls packed with an overwhelming abundance of books, giving the illusion of infinity. Lysias, his eyes portraying unwavering resolve, backed me against the wall, triggering a wave of anxiety to wash over me.

"W-what do you want?" I stammered, fear evident as I gazed into Lysias' intense eyes. His strong hand enveloped mine with a firm yet gentle grip, sending shivers down my spine. His deep voice resonated with mixed emotions, "How dare you..." His intense gaze darkened as he seemed to be struggling with conflicting emotions. "...Give such a gift to a man." Closing his eyes, he brought my hand to his soft lips, inhaling deeply as if trying to etch my scent into his memory forever. When he opened his eyes, they met mine with an intensity that was both disarming and alluring, and I felt myself drawn to him in a way I couldn't explain.

My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Was he genuinely considering ending my life? His promise of safety seemed to hang in the air, tenuous and fragile. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, intensifying the torment of uncertainty. Then, in a voice that trembled with emotion, he addressed me, "My dearest Anya," he said, his words heavy with hunger, "Will you grant me the same favor of making me one too?"

"You want me to create a handkerchief for you...?" I inquired tentatively, my nerves still apparent in my voice. "Yes, I cannot stand the thought of you embroidering a lovely handkerchief intended for a man with these delicate hands of yours," he replied. "It makes me tremble with jealousy."

Lysias' chest rose and fell with desperate urgency, the sound of his heavy panting reverberating through the vast room and leaving me breathless in its wake. As I struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation, my racing thoughts gradually calmed, allowing me to fully appreciate the tender gesture of his hands gently clasping mine against his face. "Why me?" I moaned, feeling the knot of conflicting emotions tightening within me. At that moment, his unexpected display of affection stirred a tumult of feelings within me that I never thought possible to experience towards someone I had once considered a killer.

"Please, my dearest Anya, I beg of you," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation that tugged at my heartstrings. Each word seemed to carry the weight of unspoken emotions, and as I met his gaze, I couldn't help but feel a surge of unease mingled with an inexplicable longing. It was clear that there was more at stake than just the seemingly trivial matter of the handkerchief.

As my eyes locked with his, I could sense a palpable urgency in the air, causing my breath to hitch slightly. His piercing crimson-red eyes seemed to bore into my soul, and for a moment, I was spellbound by the intensity of his unwavering stare. I found myself unable to tear my gaze away, and in that overpowering moment, I noticed a slight, knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His hand gently cupped my chin, a tender and profound touch, and his question lingered in the charged atmosphere with a hushed tone, "Have you finally relented, my dear Anya?"

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, a tumult of emotions swirling inside as I stood there, frozen in indecision. "I'm not sure if I can," I murmured almost imperceptibly, my gaze locked with his. The intensity of his stare bore into me, stirring up a maelstrom of conflicting feelings. "Anya, let me in. You don't have to be afraid," he urged in a soft, gentle voice, his hand reaching out to tenderly tuck a stray wisp of hair behind my ear.

"Wait," I hesitated, feeling a twinge of worry start to rise within me. "What about Katherine? Don't you love her?" I met his gaze, searching for any sign of reassurance or explanation. He took a moment before responding, his voice calm and measured: "Katherine is not in love with me, just as I am not in love with her. Our feelings for each other have never gone beyond friendship."

Our hearts beat with anticipation as we stood facing each other, and the air cracked excitedly. Our eyes locked in an electric gaze, and in that fleeting moment, the world around us seemed to blur into insignificance. We closed our eyes, savoring the brief suspense before our lips finally gently brushed against each other, igniting a surge of warmth and affection that enveloped us.

"You belong to me, Anastasia."