Chapter 123 Cornered on the Balcony
Claus's strides were wide and swift. He dragged me down the corridor, my wrist burning as if my skin might peel off. The strength of a man used to wielding swords and bearing heavy burdens was not something easily escaped; he didn't seem like he'd ever let go again.
"Ow, Claus! Let go!" I complained, half-shouting while desperately trying to pull my hand free.
But his grip only tightened. The fresh blood from his palm, still raw from the broken glass, mixed with the cold sweat in the night air.
At the end of the corridor, he shoved open the large glass doors with one foot.
As we stepped out onto the palace's balcony, the cold night wind hit my face.
This place was dark and empty—no crystal lamps, no waltz music from the king's birthday party.
Just the darkness of night and the sound of the raging wind.
Before I could catch my breath or complain, he pushed me back. His movement was slow but purposeful. My back hit the cold stone wall of the balcony.
Claus immediately caged me in.
Both his muscular arms braced on either side of my body, against the stone. He blocked every exit. There was no space left between us. His broad chest, wrapped in a black military uniform, rose and fell rapidly.
His breathing was heavy and rough. He leaned in, staring at my face from very close. His blue eyes looked dark, stripped of any sanity. All that remained was barely restrained anger, ready to explode at any second. With a hoarse, gravelly voice, Claus spoke right in front of my face.
"Do you think talking with Kurt felt better, Ilse?"
The question slipped out, unfiltered. My mind went blank. So he really was jealous. That prince had deliberately caused trouble by making me dance and even suggesting I move to Thurn. Now I had to deal with Claus's jealousy.
All the emotions I'd been bottling up from being tormented and made a public spectacle finally burst. I didn't care anymore, even if he could chop my head off right here and now.
"It was just a conversation, General!" I shouted in frustration, pushing at his chest with both hands. "I was doing a social activity. It's called T.A.L.K.I.N.G.!"
Claus went silent. His brows furrowed. From his expression, it was clear he didn't understand a word I said. A military mind filled with war strategies, sword tactics, and ways to defeat the enemy. Phrases like 'social activity' or diplomatic small talk simply didn't exist in his vocabulary.
He wasn't the type of man who understood noble small talk.
If his territorial instincts were triggered, Claus acted immediately.
For him, casual chatter with a prince from another country was unacceptable.
If any man dared touch or offer anything strange to his lover, that was a threat to be eliminated.
End of story. And now, I had become his top priority.
Any other girl might faint with happiness; me, I just wanted peace without getting beheaded by him.
"Social activity," Claus echoed slowly, his tone growing more dangerous. "Is that what you call him wrapping his arm around your waist and whispering in your ear?"
"He started it! I just stood there!" I protested angrily, looking up into his sharp eyes. My knees were already weak and trembling.
"Move, Claus. I want to go back inside. My legs hurt. My dress is too tight. I want to go home!" He didn't budge. Instead, he leaned in even closer, truly blocking my every movement, giving me no room to escape.
Claus dipped his head again, this time so obsessed it almost seemed unnatural.
He pressed our foreheads together, so close there was no space left at all.
His warm breath brushed my lips. The smell of blood, sweat, and the night's chill blended together. I opened my eyes, ready to protest again, but all I saw was the dark, intense, and terrifying obsession burning in his blue gaze.
There was no way out. I was completely and utterly caught in the predator's lair.