Chapter 235: The Poisoned Armor
The carriage slowed to a definitive halt, the heavy iron wheels grinding harshly against the wet gravel. The dead of night had long since consumed the capital, but the oppressive, freezing dark was infinitely better than spending another suffocating second under Cedric’s piercing, calculating gaze.
She stepped down from the carriage, each stride heavy, as if the ground itself were trying to pull her down. The bold, scandalous crimson gown clung to her silhouette while Cedric’s heavy wool coat still hung over her shoulders like a brand of shame. High above, from the darkened arched window of the estate, Leon stood motionless, a silent sentinel in the dark. He intentionally refrained from stepping downstairs to greet her; they both knew the stakes were too high. Displaying any unwarranted urgency or alignment now would only feed the paranoia of the spies Cedric undoubtedly kept stationed around the perimeter of the property.
Leon’s eyes narrowed to sharp slits as he locked onto the foreign coat and the striking dress that Olivia wore. But before he could even process the sight or calculate their next move, a low, lethal vibration cut through the shadows right beside him, causing the hairs on his neck to stand up.
"I am going down to see her," a towering shadow murmured, the voice dripping with an unyielding, territorial wrath that promised blood. "And when I return, Leon, I am going to kill you for helping her with this foolish, reckless plan."
Meanwhile, Olivia dragged her exhausted body up the sweeping grand staircase, oblivious to the threat brewing upstairs. She cast a weary glance toward the grandfather clock anchoring the hallway—it was already past one o’clock in the morning. Had she not been forced to order the carriage to halt multiple times just so she could violently purge her stomach by the lonely roadside, she would have arrived much sooner.
Finally breaching the threshold of her private chambers, she isolated herself from the predatory world outside, locking the heavy doors. With a shudder of utter revulsion, she unclasped Cedric’s coat and cast it aside, letting the expensive fabric crumple carelessly onto the floor. Sinking onto the velvet sofa, she collapsed against the cushions.
Her throat burned with a raw, agonizing ache from the violent purging, her muscles entirely spent and unresponsive. Olivia raised a trembling hand, pressing her palm over her eyes to shut out the dim candlelight, letting her limbs go completely slack as she surrendered to a desperate, reckless exhaustion.
She had no idea how long she had been out, or what had transpired while she drifted through the blackness of her fatigue. She didn’t feel the colossal, shadow-like figure stepping softly into her room, his chest heaving with a dangerous, territorial wrath.
Mathias had entered the room like a storm, ready to demand answers, his anger burning bright. But the moment his sharp eyes fell upon her pale, hollow face and the sheer exhaustion ruling her posture, the violent monster beneath his skin instantly retreated.
Despite the fire of jealousy burning in his gut at the sight of the scandalous crimson gown, his protective instincts completely took over. He couldn’t bear to see her suffer in silence. With surprising, meticulous gentleness for a man of his size and military background, he managed to change her out of that suffocating, tainted dress and into a loose, comfortable silk nightgown, laying her down properly to rest without disturbing her slumber.
Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave her side.
When Olivia’s senses slowly crawled back to reality, she realized with a jolt that she was tucked away, her heavy clothes gone and the room smelling of cold ash. Standing by the hearth was Mathias, his massive back entirely tense, his eyes locked onto the scandalous crimson gown he now held in his scarred hands, staring at it with blind, burning annoyance.
Feeling her shift in the bed, he turned his head slowly, his gaze locking onto her with an intensity that made the air feel heavy.
"You’re awake," Mathias said, his voice dangerously low, vibrating with suppressed emotion.
Olivia rubbed her eyes, her mind fracturing between reality and what felt like a fever dream. "Mathias...?"
Without breaking eye contact, Mathias tightened his grip on the fine silk. With a single, effortless flex of his terrifying strength, he ripped the expensive crimson gown completely to shreds. The fabric tore with a harsh, violent screech that shattered the silence of the room. He tossed the ruined remnants directly into the roaring flames of the fireplace, watching the red silk blacken, curl, and burn before stepping forward, enveloping her vanity in his massive shadow.
"Why in the hell did you go to that bastard?" he spoke, the rough, unyielding edge of his jealousy finally breaking through his calm facade.
Instead of flaring with her usual sharp tongue or displaying a shred of annoyance, Olivia calmly rose from her seat, her movements smooth and deliberate.
She walked over to the vanity, standing before the grand mirror for a few torturous seconds to casually adjust her hair. She deliberately played on his frayed nerves, letting the heavy silence stretch while Mathias tracked her every movement through the glass, his jaw clenched in a quiet, simmering fury.
Only when she was finished did she turn around and glide toward him, stopping right within his personal space, her warmth radiating against his cold frame. Her gaze dropped to the blackened, curling edges of the crimson silk turning to ash in the hearth.
"You saved me the trouble of burning it myself," she murmured, her voice remarkably soft.
Mathias didn’t relent. His large hands shot out, gripping her shoulders firmly, his knuckles turning white under the strain of his emotions. "What if he had harmed you?! Have you lost your mind, Olivia? Why—why the hell did you do this?!"
"I missed you."
Mathias flinched, his violent momentum instantly halting as if he had been struck. "What...? What are you talking about? I am asking you why you pulled this stunt. Do not dodge my question with these games."
Olivia merely offered a tender, uncharacteristic smile. She raised her hand, her cool fingertips gently brushing against the rough, scarred contour of his jawline.
"Because I love you, Mathias," she said softly, her eyes holding his with absolute, unwavering certainty. "I will do absolutely anything to keep the man I love by my side, and to protect him."
At her words, Mathias froze completely. The imposing, unyielding commander vanished, replaced by a man utterly paralyzed; he was entirely unaccustomed to such raw, emotional vulnerability from her.
Sensing the sudden fracture in his armor, Olivia pressed on, entirely refusing to let him slip away from her grasp again. She stepped deeper into his embrace, wrapping her arms securely around his massive frame, feeling the solid beat of his heart.
"Mathias, look at me," she pleaded, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I do not want you to leave me."
Taking his large, calloused hand in hers, she guided it down, pressing his palm firmly against the soft curve of her abdomen.
"Do you truly want to leave our child fatherless?"
Mathias’s breath hitched completely. He looked down into her eyes, searching for any trace of her signature manipulation or deceit—but he found absolutely nothing. There was only a terrifying, beautiful honesty staring back at him.
Before he could find his voice, Olivia leaned up, pressing a swift, fierce kiss against his lips, sealing his doubts. When she pulled back, her tone shifted into one of absolute, unyielding authority—a decree that brooked no argument.
"Mathias, we either live together, or we die together. I will accept nothing else. Do you understand me?"
Suddenly, Mathias felt a sharp prick at the base of his neck. For a brief second, he dismissed it, thinking it was merely the scratch of her sharp nails against his skin in the heat of the moment.
"Olivia, this is impossible. I..."
He stumbled mid-sentence. His towering frame lurched backward, his knees buckling beneath him as a heavy, dark haze instantly clouded his vision, wiping away his strength.
"Damn it..." he muttered, his voice thick, slurred, and heavy. "I feel... so sleepy all of a sudden, Olivia..."
Olivia simply looked down at him, a faint, bittersweet smile playing on her lips as his massive body crashed heavily onto the floor, completely unconscious before he could resist.
She knelt beside his prone form, her silk nightgown pooling around her on the cold stone. Gently, she brushed a stray lock of dark hair away from his eyes, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss onto his forehead.
"I’m sorry, my love," she whispered into the quiet room, her voice dropping into a chillingly protective register. "You brought this upon yourself. I knew you would break out of that prison sooner or later to throw your life away for pride." She traced the line of his jaw one last time. "I will never allow you to die without my permission."