69novels Chapter 211: The Blind Protector
Chapter 211: The Blind Protector
The cold, unforgiving light of a new dawn bled through the heavy velvet curtains of the guest chamber, bringing no peace, only a blinding, throbbing ache. Olivia groaned, forcing her heavy eyelids open as a wave of sheer exhaustion and mental chaos crashed over her. Last night had been a relentless, suffocating storm of madness, and her body was paying the price.
"Ugh... my head," she muttered, pressing the palm of her hand against her temple. "Damn it."
Before the curse could fully form on her lips, something freezing cold brushed against her pale cheek. She flinched slightly, her sharp eyes snapping over to see Kyle standing over the bed, casually pressing a glass of ice-cold water into her hand.
"Do you always wake up cursing like that, sister?" Kyle asked, a faint, weary trace of amusement in his deep voice. "You really need to change your habits. You are, as you well know..."
"I know," Olivia cut him off clippedly, taking the glass and draining it in a single, desperate gulp.
Kyle leaned down, his posture turning rigid as the casual air dissolved from his shoulders. He glanced warily toward the heavy oak door, his voice dropping into a barely audible, dangerous murmur.
"Matthias is standing right outside the door," Kyle whispered, his eyes locking onto hers with a ruthless, calculated clarity. "And since I know you haven’t told him a single damn thing about your pregnancy... I am keeping my voice down."
A slow, chilling smile touched Olivia’s lips. There was no warmth in it, only the razor-sharp armor she had spent weeks rebuilding.
"We truly do think alike, don’t we?" she whispered back, her tone turning cold enough to freeze the room. A cruel, quiet satisfaction gleamed in her gaze. "And you are entirely right. He doesn’t deserve to know. Not a single thing."
She handed the empty glass back to Kyle, her jaw clenching as her voice hardened into a lethal, unyielding command.
"Now, do me a favor. Go out there and tell him to get the hell out of my sight. I can’t stand the absolute rot of his presence."
"Your wish is my command, sister," Kyle said, his tone a mix of mocking compliance and genuine, protective warmth. "Anyway, forget about that wretch for now. Here, take a look at this."
"What is it?" Olivia asked, her eyes narrowing.
Kyle reached into his coat and placed a small, dark glass vial onto the bedsheet before her. "I went back and thoroughly searched my mother’s chambers, as well as her maid’s. It seems she hid the poison in the maid’s quarters just in case. I ran it by the palace physician, and he confirmed that its composition matches the exact toxin slowly killing the Emperor. So... this is it. This is the poison."
Olivia picked up the cold vial, swirling the lethal liquid between her fingers as she inspected it with a clinical, detached gaze.
"Just mix this poison with the antidote I handed you earlier," she said, her voice dropping into a flat, business-like murmur. "The counter-reaction will neutralize the core toxin. His Majesty will be fine."
Kyle blinked, staring at her in disbelief. "What? Aren’t you going to visit him and administer it yourself?"
"Excuse me?" Olivia let out a sharp, breathless laugh that tasted like pure venom. "He hid the truth about Matthias from me too, didn’t he? They are both hypocrites. I have absolutely no desire to see his face."
"Ha..." Kyle exhaled deeply, his shoulders dropping under a sudden, invisible weight. "I understand your position. Honestly... it kills me to know that Layla knew all along too."
Olivia froze, her fingers tightening around the vial until her knuckles turned white. "Layla? Your wife knew?"
"Yes," Kyle replied, his voice rough and laced with a quiet, dangerous humiliation. "Unfortunately."
"And she... she stood by my side, comforting me while I was losing my mind?" Olivia’s voice cracked, a dangerous, volatile rage sparking in her eyes. "Damn it. How on earth did they manage to deceive us in such a grotesque, sickening way, Kyle?"
"Don’t waste your energy on them anymore," Kyle said softly, stepping closer to calm her down. "Let them rot in their own secrets. But... are you absolutely sure you don’t want to see him, Olivia?"
Olivia swallowed hard, a painful, suffocating lump forming in her throat. She was lying, and she knew it. A desperate, agonizing part of her screamed to run out that door, to confront Matthias, to demand answers from the Emperor, to tear down the walls of this palace until the truth bled out. But she had nothing left inside her. She lacked the strength to face either of them without shattering entirely.
"I don’t want to see anyone," she murmured, her voice turning completely hollow as she pulled her invisible armor tightly around her soul. "I just want to go back to my castle. Order the servants to prepare the carriage immediately."
Kyle stared at her for a long, silent moment, reading the unspoken agony behind her cold eyes. He didn’t push. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle, lingering kiss against her forehead.
"Alright," he whispered against her skin. "I’ll get the carriage ready."
With that, he turned sharply and walked out of the room, leaving her alone with the quiet morning light.
The heavy oak door clicked shut behind Kyle, cutting off the faint warmth of the guest chamber and replacing it with the freezing draft of the imperial corridor. Matthias was still there, embedded in the shadows like a permanent fixture of the palace walls, his cloaked figure tense and unmoving. His jaw was clenched, his ears still straining for any sound from within.
Kyle didn’t stop walking. He moved past him with a slow, deliberate stride, his steps echoing softly against the marble floor. But as he brushed past Matthias’s shoulder, Kyle’s hand came down, locking onto his old friend’s shoulder with a heavy, unyielding grip.
"She just asked me to throw you out," Kyle murmured, his voice a flat, dangerous whisper that didn’t carry down the hallway. He didn’t even look at Matthias, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead. "So... it would be best if you get the hell out of her sight right now."
Matthias stiffened under the weight of Kyle’s hand. His sharp eyes snapped toward Kyle, flashing with a sudden, vicious flare of irritation—the raw pride of a commander tearing at the seams of his forced restraint. For a fraction of a second, the air between them grew volatile, suffocating with unexpressed rage.
But then, the dark fire in Matthias’s gaze flickered and died out, replaced by a cold, hollow emptiness. He looked back toward the closed door, the reality of her utter disgust settling deep into his chest.
Without uttering a single word, Matthias slowly took a step back, melting into the dim light of the corridor as he retreated in absolute silence, leaving his wife’s sanctuary undisturbed.
Olivia stepped out of the palace gates, her posture rigid, her face an unreadable mask of cold indifference. She climbed into the awaiting carriage, wanting nothing more than to submerge herself in the silent isolation of her own estate. But just as she reached out to pull the carriage door shut, a heavy, iron-clad hand gripped the frame.
Before she could utter a word, a towering figure dressed in the silver and crimson uniform of the Imperial Knights forced his way inside. A dark fabric covered the lower half of his face, leaving only those piercing, familiar eyes exposed.
"Drive!" he commanded sharply to the coachman, slamming the door behind him.
The carriage violently jolted forward, the rhythmic clatter of hooves filling the sudden, heavy silence inside the cabin. Olivia didn’t gasp. She didn’t panic. Instead, she leaned back against the leather seat, her sharp eyes narrowing into a razor-like stare as she studied the uninvited guest.
"Why did you follow me?" she asked, her voice dropping into a dangerously quiet tone.
"Because you are furious," Matthias replied from behind the mask, his voice muffled but carrying that deep, unyielding resonance.
"Following me won’t fix it," Olivia snapped, her words clipped and cold. "So, please... get out."
"I cannot," he countered smoothly, adjusting his position across from her. "I am an Imperial Knight, officially appointed by His Majesty to ensure your safety."
Olivia’s brow furrowed in sheer disbelief. "What? Since when, rogue?"
"Since now."
Even with the fabric obscuring his face, she could practically feel the arrogant, calculated smirk playing on his lips. It was a mask of duty, but they both knew the truth.
"Ah," Olivia let out a hollow, mocking breath. "So you were the one at Elphira’s funeral."
"Yes, I was."
Olivia let out a long, exhausted sigh, turning her gaze toward the window as the imperial palace faded into the morning mist. "Do whatever you want," she murmured, her tone dripping with absolute disdain. "Just do not speak to me. And do not dare to remove that mask—I have no desire to look at your hypocritical face."
Matthias went completely rigid. The sharp sting of her words cut deep, leaving him utterly speechless. He opened his mouth to reply, but found no defense, no clever retort that could pierce the heavy armor she had built around herself. He remained silent.
The rest of the journey passed in a suffocating, dead quiet. Olivia spent every passing mile completely ignoring his existence, staring out at the passing landscape, while Matthias kept his eyes locked on her with a heavy, unwavering intensity—watching over his wife, and the secret life growing inside her that he remained entirely blind to.
Until the carriage finally ground to a halt inside the courtyard of her castle.
The masked knight was the first to step down, extending his hand to assist her out of habit, but Olivia bypassed him entirely, stepping onto the stone ground without his help. However, the moment they both turned toward the castle entrance, they froze.
Standing right by the grand doors, bathed in the morning light, was Cedric. A sharp, mocking smile played on his handsome features, and cradled in his arms was a massive, ostentatious bouquet of blood-red roses.
Beneath his uniform, a volatile, murderous fury violently surged through Matthias’s veins. His fists clenched so tightly the leather of his gloves groaned.
Olivia, however, caught the sudden shift in Matthias’s aura. A cruel, brilliant spark ignited in her eyes. This was perfect. This was a debt that needed to be paid. Knowing exactly how deeply and violently Matthias loathed the Duke of Aleister, she stepped forward with a flawless, practiced grace.
"Welcome, Duke Aleister," she spoke aloud, her voice carrying beautifully across the courtyard.
Cedric stepped forward, his smile widening as he gracefully offered the massive bouquet to her. Olivia accepted the vibrant red roses without a single moment of hesitation, burying her senses in their fragrance.
"I have been waiting for you for quite some time, Duchess," Cedric murmured smoothly, bowing his head with a predatory elegance. "Tell me... do I have the distinct honor of sitting down with you today?"
Olivia offered him a radiant, utterly dazzling smile—all while casting a sharp, mocking side-glance toward the masked knight standing paralyzed in the shadows.
"And why not?" she replied softly. "Please, come inside."