The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne Chapter 654 Breaking the Pretense

"Seira, there's something I want to ask you," Aldrian said suddenly.

Seira glanced up. "What is it?"

Aldrian's face lit up with a strangely profound smile.

"If one day I were to wrong you… would you be able to forgive me?"

His ambiguous words caused Seira to furrow her brow. Yet she didn't dwell on it much and responded coolly, "Isn't it obvious? Just like when you stabbed me before."

Aldrian's grin stiffened. A torrent of deep shame flooded him, making the utensils in his grasp quiver faintly.

Yet he swiftly regained his poise and begged, "About that… could you… forget it? I know I'm at fault, and it's incredibly shameless of me to ask for forgiveness after what I did. But… I really didn't mean to do it, Seira. Could you forgive me?"

Gazing upon his imploring visage, Seira was hit by a powerful surge of revulsion.

He had stabbed her. He had almost ended her life.

Without Nolan's prompt arrival, she'd be gone by now. Still, he dared to brazenly plead for her to overlook it.

Never had she witnessed such complete shamelessness before.

The joy from avoiding this betrothal early lifted a weight off her chest.

"Unfortunately, I can't," Seira snorted. "Forgiving you would mean forgetting everything. How could I do that?"

She rose to her feet and set her utensils aside.

"To be honest, I'm leaving tonight. So just forget it, Aldrian. There's no engagement between us."

Right as she turned to depart, Aldrian's icy tone pierced the hush.

"Leaving? Do you think I'll just let you go like that?"

His unexpected remark jolted Seira. Before she could respond, a fierce wave of vertigo overwhelmed her. Her frame slackened, breaths growing labored.

"W-What… what's happening!?" she cried out in panic.

She crumpled back into the chair. Her sight grew hazy, while piercing agony hammered her skull.

"Seira, you're truly stubborn," Aldrian chuckled softly while rising. "Did you really think I'd let you walk away? Hahaha… you're so naive."

The warmth in his gaze evaporated, supplanted by a chilling, fixated glare.

"You've fallen into my trap. In fact, this dinner was planned from the very beginning… to make you mine. Hehehe…"

Seira's eyes bulged as comprehension dawned. Shaking violently, she stuttered, "Don't tell me… you drugged me!? Aldrian, you bastard!"

"Hahaha! So what if I am?" Aldrian bellowed in laughter. "From the very beginning, you're the one who started this! If you hadn't rejected me, none of this would've happened!"

His tone climbed higher, laced with frenzy. The prior gentleness and bootlicking demeanor appeared utterly fabricated.

The mysterious voice's claim proved accurate—Seira had never held love for him. Despite Aldrian's relentless attempts to draw near and express fondness, every effort fell flat.

Contemplating his own idiocy filled Aldrian with the urge to smack himself.

But that no longer signified anything. Ultimately, Seira would be his for eternity.

"Aldrian… you… bastard…"

Instantly after uttering those words, an unseen power seized her awareness. Her eyes rolled upward, and she tumbled into unconsciousness.

Aldrian stood alone now. Observing Seira's collapse, he realized action was due.

"Why are you just standing there? Come on, hurry up and do it!"

The voice absent for ages finally resounded once more.

Aldrian grinned slyly and answered nonchalantly, "Why the rush? Take it easy. Isn't the best dish meant to be enjoyed in the best setting? Doing it here would be a waste. I'll book a private room at the finest inn in the capital."

He'd never lain with a woman prior. This evening marked his inaugural encounter.

And it would involve the object of his childhood yearning. Perfection was essential.

The voice fell silent, seemingly in accord.

Shortly thereafter, Aldrian instructed a waiter to transport Seira to the city's most opulent inn.

The waiter first freaked out and balked. However, facing Aldrian's menaces and pressure, compliance was inevitable.

…

Four kilometers from the coastal waters of the Ancient Kingdom of Eron…

That evening, the ocean shimmered gorgeously under the immense starry sky. Seabirds soared in loops overhead, crafting a mesmerizing vista.

Yet afar, three shadowy outlines stood vivid against the horizon.

Approaching nearer, their contours sharpened unmistakably. They were colossal warships.

Each vessel towered almost thirty meters high and extended sixty meters long. Above them fluttered a banner displaying a black sun pierced by a central sword.

It was the war flag of the Great Velmora Empire's eastern domain.

While the four Dukes remained duty-bound to the imperial court, each truly led their private legions. These armies were formidable, swelling to hundreds of thousands.

Obviously, sustaining such forces demanded palace sanction. Thus, amid empire assaults, they were compelled to rally soldiers for reinforcement.

Elina positioned herself at the vessel's prow then, peering ahead with serene demeanor. Still, the frost in her eyes betrayed nothing.

Silver armor clad her form, white tresses bound in a tall ponytail that amplified her allure.

A soldier materialized behind her abruptly. "Your Highness, we'll arrive in a few hours. Please prepare yourself."

Elina drew in a profound breath and nodded subtly.

"Thank you for the report."

The soldier inclined his head and departed.

Elina fixed her gaze afar anew and murmured, "Brother… wait for me. I'm coming to save you."

…

The Seven Lights Inn…

Among the capital's elite lodgings, Seven Lights drew elite visitors routinely.

Customarily vibrant and lively, the inn now experienced an unprecedented stillness for the first time ever.

Though lamps blazed across its four levels, only attendants were present.

This hush stemmed entirely from one individual—Aldrian.

He climbed to the uppermost story and paused before Room 112. Swinging the door wide revealed the chamber's lavish, secluded splendor.

Not the decor set his blood aflame, however.

Rather, it was the beauty squirming upon the bed.

Her loveliness stunned. Each twist emanated captivating temptation, sending Aldrian's pulse into frenzy.

Approaching, he whispered obsessively, "Tonight, you will be mine, Seira."

The fantasy nurtured over a dozen years neared realization at last. His eternal white moonlight was poised to become his possession.

Lust scorched within him. He hastily discarded his robe, baring a lithe frame lacking bulk.

All the same, to certain eyes, it appeared adequately appealing.

But as his fingers grasped his trousers to loosen them, a scornful voice erupted from behind.

"So this is the First Prince of the Ancient Kingdom of Eron? How amusing. He's actually trying to rape his own fiancée. If everyone in the capital saw this, what do you think would happen? It would be quite the spectacle, wouldn't it?"