Chapter 236
Olivia stared down at his prone, heavy form for what felt like an eternity, her breath stabilizing in the quiet room. She watched the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his massive chest until the dark, suffocating velvet of the night finally began to crack, allowing the pale, icy light of dawn to creep through the grand arched windows.
Only then did she shift her gaze toward the heavy oak doors. Slowly, she stood up, smoothed the soft silk of her nightgown, and walked over to unlock the latch.
When she swung the door open, she wasn’t surprised to find Leon leaning casually against the stone corridor wall, his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing, restless glint in his eyes. He had been waiting there all night, a silent sentinel in the dim hall.
Olivia offered him a sharp, highly confident smile. "I told you he would break out."
Leon let out a soft, defeated chuckle, shaking his head as he straightened his posture. "Forgive my initial skepticism, sister-in-law. It appears you have come to know the brute far better than I do." He paused, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. "So... what exactly did you do to him?"
Without uttering a single word, Olivia stepped aside and opened the door completely, gesturing inside.
Leon’s gaze swept past her, his eyes instantly locking onto the colossal form of his brother stretched out flat on the cold stone floor. He blinked once. Twice. A sudden, heavy silence descended upon the corridor.
"Oh..." Leon breathed, a remarkably amused, bewildered expression twisting his sharp features. "Now that is a fascinating sight."
He slowly stepped over the threshold, walking a circle around the unconscious commander to inspect the situation. There lay Mathias—the dreaded, unyielding war hero of the empire—not only completely drugged, but tightly, meticulously bound from his shoulders to his knees in heavy, coarse ropes.
Leon blinked again, turning his head back toward Olivia with genuine wonder. "Did you... did you seriously tie him up?"
"What?" Olivia shot back, her tone entirely indifferent, her head tilting with a terrifyingly calm authority. "Is there a problem with that? He is my husband. I shall do with him as I please." She paused, casting a cold, assessing glance at the heavy knots. "And you should thank me for calling you in to help secure those ropes the moment he dropped. Had I tried to roll his dead weight alone, the brute would have broken the floorboards."
A slow, highly dangerous smirk began to carve its way across Leon’s face. He raised his hands defensively, trying and utterly failing to suppress the absolute amusement bursting in his chest. "Hmm. Far be it from me to interfere, Your Grace. By all means, do precisely as you please with him."
"Stop looking at him with that irritating expression and move him to a more secure location," Olivia commanded, her sharp voice cutting through his silent laughter like a whip. "And ensure those ropes are tightened thoroughly. You know better than anyone that he will not remain compliant for long once he awakens."
"As you command, my Duchess," Leon purred, bowing with a dramatic, sweeping elegance.
As he bent down to lift his brother’s dead weight, Leon was practically biting his inner cheek, forcefully choking back a booming laugh at the sheer, unmitigated absurdity of seeing the great, terrifying Mathias utterly paralyzed, bound like a common captive by his own wife.
The relentless ticking of the grandfather clock was the only sound anchor in the quiet bedroom as the pale, wintry sunlight of dawn began to paint the stone floor. Olivia had spent those grueling hours staring out the window, her mind spinning a web of political moves while her body still hummed with the residual fatigue of the night.
Immediately after Leon had dragged Mathias away to the secure depths of the estate, she had taken her most dangerous gamble yet. She had dispatched a trusted shadow-guard with a private, emergency missive straight to the Imperial Palace. If Cedric’s spies intercepted that letter, her head would be on a spike before noon. But she had no choice; she needed the ultimate shield.
A soft, hesitant knock shattered the silence.
The heavy door creaked open, and a maid stepped inside, bowing so low her apron brushed the floor. Her voice was thin, trembling with the weight of the news she carried. "Your Grace... His Imperial Highness, the Crown Prince, has just arrived at the estate. He is waiting in the private solar."
Olivia didn’t show a flicker of surprise. She rose from her seat with absolute, unyielding confidence, the silk of her gown pooling around her ankles. She adjusted her posture, smoothing her hair before the grand mirror. The game had officially begun.
When she stepped into the private solar, Kyle turned around swiftly. The moment his eyes fell upon her, the heavy, imperial aura he usually carried instantly melted away, replaced by a warm, genuine relief. He stepped forward, greeting her with a familiarity that belonged only to family.
"Olivia," Kyle spoke, his voice rich but laced with an undeniable undercurrent of anxiety. He scanned her pale face before cutting straight to the matter. "You summoned me in the dead of night with a message so cryptic it nearly gave my guards a heart attack. What on earth is the meaning of this sudden invocation? And that strange, demanding letter?"
Olivia offered him a cool, enigmatic smile as she glided toward the velvet armchair, gesturing for him to take a seat opposite her. "It is a private matter, Kyle. One that requires absolute discretion. You will see the magnificent results of this gamble soon enough. For now, simply give me the files and the correspondence I requested."
Kyle stiffened, his jaw tightening as his hand instinctively went to the inner pocket of his heavy uniform coat. He pulled out a thick, leather-bound folder sealed with the imperial wax—documents that contained the private, treasonous correspondence of the rebel factions, specifically proving how Roland had been pulling the strings behind the scenes.
He held the files out, but just as Olivia reached for them, his grip tightened. He hesitated, pulling the folder back by a fraction of an inch, his eyes locking onto hers with deep, fraternal protectiveness.
"Do not use these for something foolish, Olivia," Kyle murmured, his tone dropping into a serious, heavy register. "I am genuinely worried about you. By extracting these files from the imperial archives and handing them to you, I have violated every sacred law of the empire. If the Emperor or the council finds out—"
Before he could finish his caution, Olivia leaned forward. With a swift, commanding movement that brooked no argument, she took the folder from his hand, pulling it away with an effortless air of authority.
She looked up at him, her sharp eyes gleaming with a dangerous, yet deeply affectionate light. "Do you not trust your elder sister?"
Kyle blinked, caught off guard by her unyielding stance. He let out a long, defeated sigh, the tension leaving his shoulders as a wry, helpless smile touched his lips. "I do trust you... blindly, unfortunately. Fine. We shall wait and see what kind of storm you are about to unleash with these."
He stood up, adjusting his military cape, knowing his time at the estate had to be brief to avoid the eyes of suspicious courtiers.
"I must return to the palace before the morning court convenes," Kyle said, giving her one last, lingering look of concern. "Take care of yourself, Olivia. Do not make me regret turning a blind eye to your schemes."
Hours dissolved into the cold stone of the estate’s subterranean depths. When Mathias finally forced his eyelids open, the world was a blurred, heavy haze. His head throbbed with a dull, ringing ache, and the metallic scent of damp earth and cold ash anchored his senses. He blinked through the dim, flickering candlelight, slowly recognizing the reinforced brickwork—he was in the hidden vaults beneath the palace.
Then, his gaze shifted.
Sitting on a velvet high-backed chair just a few paces away was Olivia. She was leaning her cheek against her hand, staring down at him with a sharp, thoroughly amused smile that sent a shiver through the dim room.
"Awake at last, my love?" she murmured, her voice dripping with smooth, unbothered complacency.
"Olivia..." Mathias growled, his voice a gravelly, slurred whisper.
He instinctively tried to wrench his shoulders forward, intending to stand, only for a harsh, metallic rattle to echo through the vault. He froze. His massive frame was bound entirely to a heavy iron chair, wrapped in layers of reinforced chains and coarse ropes.
He locked his dark eyes onto hers, his jaw clenching in disbelief. "Are you seriously doing this, Olivia? Have you completely lost your mind?"
"Hmph. The only one who has lost his mind is you," she countered smoothly, not shifting an inch. "To think you actually intended to march out there and face both Cedric and Roland entirely on your own."
"Untie me. Right now."
"In your dreams, my dear husband."
"Olivia—"
"Stop repeating my name , it is utterly exhausting," she interrupted, rolling her eyes with a dangerous flick of her fingers.
Mathias let out a low, dangerous rumble from his chest, a desperate smirk playing on his lips despite the fury burning in his veins. "Then how about ’my love, release me’? Is that more to your liking? You know as well as I do, Olivia, that these chains cannot hold me. I can shatter them with my bare strength the moment my head clears."
Slowly, deliberately, Olivia rose from her seat. The soft silk of her gown swept against the stone floor as she glided over to him, stepping directly into his restricted space. She reached down, her cool, slender fingers wrapping firmly around his jaw, tilting his face upward to force his wild, stormy gaze to lock into hers.
"Your request is denied, my love," she whispered, her eyes gleaming with absolute triumph. "And that brings me to the very reason I injected you. The poison coursing through your veins right now is specifically designed to paralyze your core. For the next few hours, you are completely human, Mathias. You couldn’t shatter a wooden latch, let alone these imperial chains."
Mathias stared up at her, a dark, dry chuckle escaping his throat. "Have you suddenly developed a sadistic streak, Duchess?"