It must've been some kind of herbal decoction meant to help with sleeplessness or qi disruption.
I didn’t think much of it and crouched down beside Eric.
By then, he was already fully drunk, his inner core clearly overwhelmed by the effects of the brew. He raised the cup again, trying to sip what was left.
I swiftly snatched it from his hand.
“Whoa there! That’s enough! You’ve already ascended to the realm of drunken immortals!”
“Me? That’s absurd.”
Spoken like a true drunk cultivator—completely unaware he had entered the realm of intoxication. A telltale sign he was far gone.
Has he even realized all this time that his spiritual constitution can’t handle alcohol?
No wonder he downed half the bottle. His ignorance was as boundless as his cultivation.
Thankfully, though reeking of wine, Eric wasn’t making a ruckus. He simply sat there quietly, radiating a kind of solemn, almost divine grace.
So pure… so immaculate…
I suddenly recalled what Lady Margaret once said when she bribed me with a portrait of Eric.
“Please forgive me for saying this, my lady, but I truly believe beauty like his should be shared for the sake of world peace.”
World peace? From a man’s beauty?
...And yet, when I saw that portrait…
“Ah… it's like inner tranquility washing over me…”
If the world gazed upon Eric's countenance all at once, perhaps conflict would truly cease.
“Looking at Eric’s face awakens my deepest inspiration as an artist… You won’t tell him, will you?”
And now, that very man—so still and elegant in the painting—was beginning to fumble with the buttons on his robe.
“Hey! Hey, hey—what do you think you’re doing?! Danger! This is dangerous territory!”
I darted forward to stop his hand. Eric blinked at me, eyes glassy.
“...It feels tight… like it’s constricting me…”
“Th-that’s understandable! But still, you mustn’t take it off.”
“Why… not?”
He pointed a lazy, uncoordinated finger at me.
I shook my head vigorously.
“It’s for your own sake, Young Master Eric! For your safety and mine, please remain clothed in my presence!”
Who knew what I might do if he didn’t?
“The world isn’t filled with people as righteous as you, you know! What if some wicked cultivator like me were to snatch you away?!”
If he only knew how corrupted my thoughts were at that moment, he would have looked at me like I was the demon lord himself.
But instead, Eric leaned his neck against the headboard, looking completely unaware and exhausted.
“Then… snatch me…”
His eyes opened just a sliver.
I swallowed hard.
Snatch you?! Do you even know what you're saying right now?!
Should I just… actually snatch him?!
I shook my head violently to dispel the impure thoughts spiraling in my mind.
“You—you can’t go around saying things like that! You’ll cause calamity! Let’s at least move you onto the bed.”
I could just sleep on the floor. There’s no way I could share the bed with him like this…
His cheeks were flushed from the drink, his lips moist and glistening, his eyes soft and hazy with drunken qi…
Too dangerous. Far too dangerous.
Of course, not for me—but for him.
I cleared away the bottle and cup and reached for his hand.
“Heave—ho!”
I tried lifting him by the arm. But he was at least twice my size in sheer body mass—built like a divine beast, practically forged from spiritual steel.
Naturally, he didn’t budge an inch.
After several failed attempts, I collapsed beside him, panting like a cultivator who had failed to break through a bottleneck.
“...Huff…”
Eric shifted slightly, his voice muffled in the blanket.
“What are you doing? Tickle technique?”
His face was half-buried in the blanket, but the corners of his lips were undeniably curled up in amusement.
Oh, he finds this funny, does he?!
I snapped, seized by sudden indignation, and grabbed his arm and shoulder again with a burst of fury.
I summoned all the strength I had—
And yet, he remained as immovable as a mountain under heaven.
Eventually, I slumped over like a broken automaton, utterly defeated.
“Urghhh…”
Eric must’ve thought I was about to topple over—he pulled me toward him and wrapped one large hand protectively around the back of my head.
“…You… seriously… ha… can’t you go one day without almost getting hurt?”
His brow furrowed, his voice tight with frustration, almost like he was scolding me.
Now looming slightly above him, I replied,
“…I
do
try to be careful… in my own way…”
“Because you don’t cherish yourself, I—”
Because I don’t cherish myself, you what? You
what
?
While waiting for him to finish, my eyes drifted—almost on their own—to his throat, to that visible bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.
My eyes… come back to your rightful place. Please…
I silently prayed.
Heavenly Sovereign above, please do not let me disgrace myself by violating Young Lord Eric in this very room and be dragged off by the city guards in place of that deranged psycho duke. Please, spare me from blurting out something blasphemous that would get me banished from the duke’s manor…
“…You're thinking something weird again, aren’t you?”
Eric’s voice cut through my thoughts like a sword.
“No?”
I shook my head so quickly it might’ve popped off.
N-no, senior! I wasn’t thinking
anything
—nothing at all…
But it was hard to suppress the beast within me. The distance between us was simply too narrow.
His breath, warm and laced with the scent of spirit wine, grazed my nose.
Eric didn’t move his hand away from the back of my head. In fact, he began playing with my unruly curls like they were intriguing spirit beast fur.
“…W-what… what are you doing…”
I could barely breathe—not because of a tight, shadowy cave this time, but for a completely different reason.
I just sat there, staring blankly as his fingers twisted and twirled my hair.
His gaze slowly traced over my hair, my cheek, and then down to my lips.
“…Your hair feels so soft… fluffy…”
“Seriously…”
Does he think I’m a damn
spiritual dog
?
If he keeps this up, I really
will
become a beast.
“Hey.”
“What?”
“…Has anyone… other than Vivian… ever hurt you? Ever made things hard for you?”
Someone who’s hurt me?
I frowned.
“…Probably?”
Eric’s eyes clouded, like he was pondering something deeply.
What’s he thinking about so seriously? I let out a dry laugh.
“So what if there is? You planning to go discipline them or something?”
“…Of course. I said I’d protect you, didn’t I? That’s what family does.”
That’s what family does.
At those words, I clenched my fists without meaning to.
Why would you go punish them? Who do you think you are? Those kinds of words bubbled in my mouth.
Why do you keep acting like you’re part of my
home
? My home is with Philip and Helena. We’ve always been each other’s shelter.
You… where the hell did you come from, anyway? You fell from the sky. Yeah, you fell from the heavens after drinking that cursed apple wine and—bam—you landed right into my life.
“You’re too numb to your own pain. Anyone who could hurt someone like you… they’re truly a wicked bastard… so…”
“So?”
“…So I’ll kill them.”
A cold glint flickered in Eric’s eyes. As if he truly meant it. As if he
would
kill them.
I stared down at him, my whole body suddenly chilled. I opened my mouth—ready to ask just what that expression meant.
However, Eric’s expression soon softened again into a dazed tranquility. Even in that dazed state, he continued to absentmindedly stroke my hair—like he was running his fingers through the fur of a spiritual beast bred for inner peace.
His gaze grew ever more serene, as if my hair really were some kind of fluffy pelt calming his soul.
“……”
I felt like I’d become some kind of loyal spirit beast, trained to soothe my master’s mind.
Displeased, I quickly swatted his hand away.
Smack!
The sound of skin meeting skin rang out, sharp and clean. Eric grasped his hand, though his face betrayed no pain.
“…Did you know your slap’s got quite the sting?” he mumbled, his voice heavy with the haze of drunkenness. It was clear now—he was fully intoxicated.
Normally, he looked like someone who could lift mountains with a single arm… but just a moment ago, when I nearly tripped, his reflexes had still been unnaturally sharp. That, at least, was still the Eric I knew.
“That’s what you get for playing with a lady’s hair, Young Lord. Just lay back and sleep already. I’ll take the bed.”
I shoved him lightly backward as I spoke. He slumped down again, leaning back into the bedding.
Damn it.
With his throat exposed and his face half-buried in the pillow, he looked far too tempting. Seductive in a completely dangerous way.
I turned away before I could fall into such wicked thoughts and headed to the table, picking up the wine-filled cup with the faint red sheen.
It was supposed to help with insomnia, wasn’t it?
If this kept up, I was bound to lose sleep tonight anyway.
I emptied the rest of the cup in one go, then leaned on the table and glanced back at Eric.
His drunken behavior… it was far too decadent and reckless. Just watching him hug the blanket and murmur to himself made my blood run cold. If any other woman saw this, she definitely wouldn’t be as virtuous as I was.
No. In front of other women, he absolutely must not—
Eric, won’t you have a drink with me?
Just then, like a bolt of lightning through my mind, I saw a vision—an illusion of the princess, holding a glass of wine, whispering to Eric in a honeyed voice.
No… no! That’s dangerous! Danger incarnate!
I scrambled over and crouched in front of him, poking his shoulder urgently. His eyes were half-closed, his breath even.
“If the princess ever invites you to drink at a palace banquet, you
must
refuse. Do you understand? It’s dangerous… she’s not someone you can afford to drop your guard around…”
“…Hot…”
“Huh?”
Just then, Eric murmured something with his eyes closed. I leaned in, thinking he wanted water.
“Should I bring you some—wait, what did you just sa—”
In that moment, he reached out and wrapped an arm around my waist.
His crimson eyes—hazy, yet piercing—came close, far too close. His gaze swept across my face with a hunger that made my breath catch.
“…Are you sure this stuff is actually for sleeplessness?” he asked, his voice low.
I felt the heat radiating from his body like spiritual fire, and behind his shoulder, I caught sight of that red bottle resting by the cabinet.
…?
Now that I thought about it, that scent I’d noticed earlier from the herbs…
“No way…”
‘I brought something for you. You always have trouble sleeping when you're not in your usual bed, right?’
‘This is a special liquor that’s good for sleeplessness…’
Come on, Mom… this is too much.
I stared as Eric’s hand, still gripping my wrist, slowly reached up toward my cheek.
“…!”
No. Absolutely not.
I was even touched she’d brought me a gift… and it turned out to be
this
?!
Only then did I finally realize where I’d smelled that herb mixture before— That herb—without a doubt, it was one I’d smelled back when I worked under the Southern Witch.
She used to sell all kinds of strange brews and alchemical concoctions. Among them, the best-selling herb was one that turned crimson when mixed with alcohol…
“This one… they call it a Love Elixir…”
The so-called Love Elixir—
A concoction said to stir affection between men and women… to ignite desire and lower inhibitions.
“Why’s your face so red?”
Eric asked, his tone curious but concerned.
He raised a hand and gently touched my cheek—and in that instant, our heartbeats pulsed in unison, like a pair of cultivation cauldrons resonating with shared qi.
Why was my face red…?
Before I could stop myself, I reached out with both hands and held his face between my palms.
“…?”
Because I, too…
Drank that Love Elixir?
Chapter 68