# 21
Hugo Bernstein never thought in his life what the word “impulse” meant.
He did not seek to understand it, nor did he attempt to realize it. He had no desire to do anything, and he did not feel any incentive to make a decision.
He carries his sword because he is accustomed to it, lives by the laws of the Empire because he is a part of it, and stays at the side of those who desire him because he sees no reason to turn away.
So when Cain Avendale confessed to him that he could not resist his impulse and kissed the sleeping Cyril, Hugo could only shake his head in understanding, without making any comment.
Not because he had nothing to say, but because he couldn't understand why Cain was acting like this in the first place.
Why does a person later regret decisions he made of his own free will? Hugo could never understand it.
But now, at this very moment, he realized exactly what Cain was feeling then.
“…….”
“…….”
It had not been long, barely two days, and yet the mere sight of her made him lose his mind.
Her slender body, which seemed to be made to contain him, was not enough to satisfy his need, causing him to hold her to his chest for a long time without being able to let go.
Her face, which sank between the folds of his slightly open shirt due to tightness, ignited a storm inside him that he could not calm.
He was about to touch her lips, but he could barely contain himself and stopped at the last moment.
What was he going to do to a sleeping person?
He squeezed his eyes tightly, and lines of distress gathered on his forehead. He exhaled deep breaths as if trying to expel the thoughts that were storming through his head, then opened his eyes and seemed calmer.
“Hugo……”
But his calm did not last long, as he froze when she said his name while she was talking in her sleep.
He never expected her to mention his name even in her dreams.
No, if he thought about it, this whole situation didn't make sense at all.
Only yesterday, he left the Emperor's office without objecting to his marriage to Angelica.
His mind knew full well that he had to stay away from her, she wasn't his and he couldn't even dream of having her.
However, there was a deep desire bubbling within him, an urgent desire to possess her.
She once talked about her first love and said he was someone she would never see again.
So, if she wasn't happy with anyone else, could she stay by his side?
He did not dare to aspire to love her. He knew that even if he roamed the entire continent, he would never find a woman who loved him.
But at least, he could convince himself that he could be satisfied with this situation.
He had the power to make her life better than anyone else, he was sure of it.
Then he remembered her words:
She hated everything except her first love, yet she considered herself lucky to have talked to him.
It is true that she did not know at the time that he was Hugo Bernstein, but perhaps, with the passage of time, if she hated him a little less, she would begin to see him differently.
How ironic.
He was claiming to be satisfied with this situation, yet he dared to think about the future!
These contradictory thoughts were making him feel strange about himself.
Maybe that's why, when he met her this morning by chance while talking to Cyril, he couldn't say a single word.
It is true that the Emperor announced that Angelica had chosen to marry, but he did not believe it.
She still avoided looking at him directly, and it was clear that she felt uncomfortable around him.
For this reason, he resorted to sitting alone near the lake where no one came. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to calm his thoughts.
The moment he decided to leave...
“……!”
The sound of familiar footsteps echoed in his ears.
Her steps were quieter than usual, but she did not deceive him.
He knew it was Angelica.
He froze, not even daring to open his eyes.
He didn't want to waste her courage after she decided to approach him.
But even so, he couldn't stop wondering: Why did she come here?
Then…
Her hand touched his.
Was that a coincidence? He didn't need to think too much this time.
Not only did she touch his hand, but she intertwined her fingers with his as well.
He swallowed hard without realizing it, and he didn't realize his mistake until it was too late, but he was lucky she didn't notice.
Then, listen quietly to her whispers.
"It must hurt. I hope you get well soon."
She gently applied the medicine to his hand, bringing life back to his heart that he thought had been shattered.
He acted as if he were following her words. Since she didn't want him to wake up, he would make sure not to open his eyes no matter what.
However…
When she said, “Beautiful,” he couldn’t help but wonder.
What was she seeing?
What made her utter that word?
The scene was ordinary to him, nothing worth paying attention to.
But when he noticed her hand running through his hair, he wondered if she was referring to the flowers that bloomed next to him.
Cyril Rose had thrown rose seeds on the banks of the lake one day, and now roses filled the place.
I didn't understand what you meant by saying she wanted to experiment, but whatever she meant, she certainly wasn't talking about me.
The phrases you address to me are always of this type.
“Would putting medicine on this type of injury be useless?”
A light touch on my eyebrow made me realize she was referring to my scar.
I hadn't paid much attention to the scars on my face before, but at this very moment a feeling of remorse washed over me.
I had to be careful not to get hit in places obvious to others while swinging my sword.
But what comforts me a little is that her words don't have any hateful tone yet.
“Angelica, if that's what you want...”
Hugo Bernstein whispered in a low voice, raising her hand that was intertwined with his, trying to accept this strange situation that he did not yet believe.
“I will try to get rid of this scar by any means possible.”
If it makes her fear me less, then so be it.
But before that, he had to do one thing.
Hugo began to remove the medicine she had placed generously on his injured hand.
The amount of ointment was so large that he barely felt any pain despite the wound.
He smiled slightly as he intertwined her fingers raised off the ground in a gentle movement.
But when the cold ointment touched her skin, she let out a slight groan as if she was in pain.
Hugo, accustomed to taking care of her, began to gently massage her hands as he applied a thin layer of ointment to the blisters that covered her fingers.
“You left it untreated again, didn't you?”
She should have taken care of her hand instead of coming to him to put the ointment on his hand.
After he finished gently applying the medicine, he looked at her injured lips.
He hesitated a little...perhaps because he remembered what he had intended to do to her a moment ago.
But he couldn't ignore the wound, which was bleeding a little.
“It's not what you think, Angelica. Just a moment...”
He whispered an apology to himself that she didn't hear, then he brought his hand to her lips resolutely.
His ointment-covered finger touched her lower lip very gently.
Fortunately, the ointment was enough to ease his feeling at the feel of her lips, otherwise he would have lost control of himself again.
But… she didn't seem to realize the effort he was making to control himself.
When she felt the coldness of the ointment on her delicate skin, a look of annoyance appeared on her face, then she tried to hide in his embrace.
She placed her face on his chest first, and when she found no comfort, she gradually rose until she buried her face in his neck.
With every movement she made, the burning longing in his heart burned until it reached his throat.
His limbs began to shake violently, so he closed his eyes tightly to calm himself, then put a double amount of ointment on his finger.
“Okay, then I won't feel anything.”
He repeated to himself that his only goal was to treat the wound, then gingerly brought his hand back to her lips.
But the result… was something he never expected.
As she pressed her face to Hugo's neck, a little ointment seeped into her mouth...
“Hmm…?”
Suddenly her lips opened automatically, as if she was unconsciously responding to it.
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