The room fell into a brief silence after Edgar left. His imposing presence and lingering anger seemed to hang in the air, refusing to dissipate. Alia lowered her gaze slightly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the embroidery on her sleeve as though she was still processing everything that had just transpired.
Elias stood to the side, his expression a mix of emotions as he watched her. After a moment, he let out a soft sigh and spoke in a low voice, "Livia, I wanted to stay here with you, but there's something far more important I need to take care of." His tone carried a hint of guilt and self-reproach. "This is entirely my fault. I have to return and reorganize my forces, conduct a thorough sweep to ensure there are no more spies among us. I won't let you suffer any harm again."
As he spoke, his voice grew slightly firmer, his gaze shifting toward Marcellus. His eyes carried a sharp intensity, as though he wanted to say something threatening. Yet, recalling how Marcellus had risked his life to save Livia earlier, Elias hesitated. His brows furrowed, and he ultimately swallowed the words he intended to say.
"In your castle, make sure Livia doesn't get hurt again," Elias said at last, his words carrying a mixture of dissatisfaction and warning. He refrained from further accusations.
With that, he turned to leave. His retreating figure seemed burdened, as though weighed down by responsibilities and regrets he could not shed.
"Elias!" Alia suddenly called out. Her voice was soft but firm, carrying a note of reassurance. She raised her head, her eyes fixed on his back. "Don't blame yourself. None of this is your fault."
Elias paused mid-step, his shoulders trembling slightly, but he didn't turn around. After a moment of silence, he walked out without saying another word.
As his figure disappeared from view, Alia's heart stirred with a complex mix of emotions. She understood Elias's concern and desire to protect her, but she also knew how immense the pressure he faced must be.
When the room finally fell quiet again, Livia let out a long sigh.
Marcellus, who had been standing beside her, suddenly grabbed her by the wrist and led her quickly down the corridor. His movements were urgent, filled with a restrained intensity that made her breath hitch. He pushed open the bedroom door, guiding her inside with a firm yet gentle grip. Once they were both inside, he closed the door behind them with a resounding thud.
Before Alia could react, his lips pressed against hers. The kiss was fervent and impatient, carrying an overwhelming passion that left her momentarily stunned. Yet there was also a trembling gentleness within it, as if he was afraid of losing her all over again. It was a kiss laced with apology, longing, and remorse—a desperate attempt to convey everything he felt but could not put into words.
His hands cupped her face, their touch tender but unsteady. His breath was warm against her skin, and his gaze bore into hers with an intensity that made her heart quiver. In his eyes, she saw vulnerability and an earnestness that she couldn't ignore.
At first, Alia instinctively tried to push him away. The anger and hurt she felt toward him had not entirely dissipated. The secrets she had uncovered and the betrayals she had endured made her emotions toward him more tangled than ever. But even in the midst of her confusion and pain, she couldn't deny that, during her moments of captivity and despair, the one person she had hoped would come to her rescue was him.
Marcellus seemed to sense her resistance, but he didn't stop. His kisses grew softer, filled with a mix of remorse and unrestrained affection. The raw emotion in his every touch spoke of his regret and the depth of his feelings for her.
Alia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Though part of her still harbored resentment, she couldn't ignore the relief that had washed over her when she saw him earlier. Slowly, her defenses began to crumble. She allowed herself to relax, surrendering to the moment as his lips continued to caress hers.
In that instant, the tension inside her began to ease. Memories of his frantic efforts to save her, his palpable fear of losing her, and the glimmers of vulnerability he had shown all tugged at her heart. The anger that had burned so fiercely within her began to fade, replaced by an undeniable truth: she still loved him.
All the schemes, betrayals, and unanswered questions were pushed to the back of her mind. In this moment, she wanted nothing more than to lose herself in the emotions that surged between them.
Tentatively, Alia's hands found their way to Marcellus's shoulders. Her initial hesitation gave way to an earnest response, her lips moving against his in a kiss that quickly grew passionate. Her willingness emboldened Marcellus, who deepened the kiss with a fervor that left them both breathless. His husky voice whispered her name, laced with affection and longing.
Before she realized it, they were lying on the soft bed, their emotions running wild. Desire and love intertwined, creating a fire that neither of them could extinguish. They clung to each other, as though trying to erase all the pain and misunderstandings that had come before.
That night, the room was filled with their whispers and gasps, the world outside forgotten. For the first time, Alia let go of her guard completely, allowing herself to melt into Marcellus's embrace. Marcellus, in turn, poured every ounce of his love and devotion into his actions, cherishing her as though she were the most precious thing in the world.