Lyle's body felt alive in a way he never experienced before. It was burning with a need to embrace her.

Finding guidance in recounting his duties during this perplexing tribulation, Lyle came to a resolution.

Because it was union day, and she was his empress.

Even if it wasn't today, they would eventually have to embrace each other. They only had each other to produce an heir.

"Medea."

When he called her name, Medea glanced up at Lyle.

Lyle was shocked by her lovely hazy dewy eyes.

That Medea looks lovely! It was evident that his head was weird! For a moment, he was struck dumb by his thoughts

"You don't have to sleep with me anymore if we have a child. I won't look for you anymore, so don't reject me." Neither did Lyle want to find Medea.

At Lyle's words, Mildia looked at him breathlessly and seemed to be pondering for a moment.

'You really don't seem to remember.'

Medea was contemplating whether or not she could get out of this situation.

It was the Middle Ages with no electricity or subway. They say there's magic, but she's no magician. She was only a daughter of an influential aristocrat who had no skills—only lucky enough to have an outstanding appearance—the only quality she could take outside the palace. Plus, she wasn't even the protagonist.

Could she reject the Emperor and escape the palace?

She have longed for the strong heroine of the novel. But they were the ones who had unlimited amounts of potential and luck that the writer gave them in a fictitious world.

Her reality is different. It was cold and unforgiving. No. It was so cruel that it made her shudder.

She was not an innocent child who believed in luck.

'I'm not the protagonist,' she thought.

Without the protection of her father, the Duke, or the Emperor, she was no better than a powerless child stranded on an island.

It would be too predictable that as soon as she stepped outside, her eye-catching appearance would gain her too much attention, and she would be kidnapped and sold into slavery.

When analyzing her inevitable doom, Medea's face became bitter.

'I don't want the Emperor's favor, but I have a huge advantage of staying here.'

Medea recalled the comfort of the Imperial Palace, Lyle's handsome countenance, and his gentle manner that was described in the novel: 'I won't be rough.'

If she tolerated this night, she could spend her whole life comfortably.

She wondered, 'Is this okay?' Her moral compass was spinning in confusion.

But on the other hand, she was curious.

Here was a well-praised hero, as described in the novel, so it was unlikely that it would be the worst night ever.

It's not that she doesn't have any resistance or shame, but really, this was already somewhat determined.

It was fortunate that Lyle tried to persuade her and not force her.

"Then...... please don't hurt me..."

Lyle sucked in his breath at a flustered Medea, who hesitantly replied without making eye contact.

She was like a completely different woman.

The Medea he knew never showed this expression.

"Yes."

Lyle reached out to Medea.

"I promise," he whispered, slowly kissing.