Chapter 394
Alfred turned around—no one was there.
After looking around for a while, he finally spotted Natasha lounging on a tree branch, casually munching on a fruit.
Seeing him look her way, Natasha spat out the fruit and repeated stubbornly, “I won’t marry.”
Alfred froze for a moment, then his face turned.
Alfred shot a fierce glare at Natasha, then forced an apologetic smile at the imperial eunuch. “My deepest apologies for troubling Your Excellency with this trip. My daughter has had too much to drink and is speaking nonsense–please pay no heed to her ramblings.”
The imperial eunuch wiped the sweat from his forehead and cupped his hands toward Alfred. “Since the imperial decree has been delivered, this humble servant shall take his leave.”
“Your Excellency, this way please.” Alfred offered a courteous gesture of dismissal, and the imperial eunuch took his leave.
Stepping out of the Minister’s manor, the imperial eunuch sneered coldly. “She’s courting death. How dare she refuse the imperial marriage? That’s blatant defiance of the imperial edict.”
After venting his frustration, the young eunuch strode off without so much as a backward glance.
Alfred stood under the tree, pointing at Natasha in fury. “If you don’t marry, who will? Refusing means defying the imperial edict. Are you trying to be the death of me?”
“Dad,” Natasha drawled lazily, her voice full of playful affection.
She put on a pitiful, coaxing look, her big eyes blinking innocently as if begging for forgiveness.
Alfred’s heart melted at the sight, but he still rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance and snapped, “What now?”
Natasha grinned impishly at her father and said, “See, Dad? You’re perfectly fine.”
Furious, Alfred scanned his surroundings, grabbed a broom, and swiped it at the tree where she was perched.
“You little rascal. Always trying to be the death of me,” he shouted.
Natasha sat comfortably on the tree branch, completely unfazed.
The broom couldn’t reach her anyway, and even if it could, Alfred would never have the heart to actually hit his daughter.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than a whack landed on her.
Natasha let out an “Ouch,” and clutched her backside. Peering down at her father, she protested, “Dad, you actually hit me?”
Alfred snapped, “Of course I’m hitting you. You’re already twenty–practically left on the shelf. If you don’t marry soon, no one will ever want you.”
At his wit’s end, Alfred slapped his thigh and wailed, “I can’t support you forever. What will become of you when I’m gone?”
The thought of his daughter having no one to care for her in the future shattered Alfred’s heart into a million pieces.
Seeing her father truly upset, Natasha hurried to his side and coaxed, “Come on, Dad, no more tears, okay?”
What she dreaded most was her dad’s waterworks–he was even harder to comfort than the most dramatic young lady.
Tears streamed down his face as if he had an endless supply; she couldn’t fathom where he found so many.
“No way. If you don’t marry, I’ll bash my head in right here in front of you.” Alfred was dead set on marrying Natasha off this time; he wouldn’t let her have her way anymore.
Natasha sighed deeply, tugging at her hair in utter resignation, then nodded. “Fine,” she muttered lifelessly, “I’ll marry.”
Hearing her finally relent, Alfred’s face lit up with joy. “Sweetheart, let me go make you some of your favorite bacon.”
Then, he pulled a pouch of coins from his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “Go buy whatever you want. Your old man hasn’t touched the dowry your mother left for you–when the day comes, I’ll make sure you have a grand and glorious wedding.”
Alfred’s mood instantly brightened. He wiped away his tears and made a beeline for the kitchen.
Natasha trudged out, shoulders slumped in defeat. ‘No way,’ she thought. ‘I have to find Athena and figure out what to do.
‘Getting married? That was never part of my plan,’ she thought.
“Especially after I learned how my mother died.”
“After that, the last thing I wanted was to end up like her.”
If something were to happen to her, what would Dad do? Who would take care of him?
Natasha rode her horse toward the Xander Manor. As she passed through the bustling marketplace, she suddenly caught sight of a familiar figure up ahead.
And who else could it be up ahead but her future husband, Evander.
“Well, well, speak of the devil,” Natasha muttered, her blood boiling as she recalled their last encounter with Evander at the opera house.
‘How dare he have the audacity to steal my first kiss,’ Natasha fumed inwardly.
She was so furious that she couldn’t sleep a wink for several nights.
‘Even in my dreams, I’m plotting how to take down Evander,’ Natasha fumed inwardly.
‘Perfect timing–Evander is out in the open all by himself,’ Natasha thought, her eyes lighting up.
A mischievous gleam flashed in Natasha’s eyes as a plan popped into her head.
She trailed behind Evander, then deliberately ‘accidentally’ bumped into him.
“Ouch,” Natasha cried out, clutching her forehead, while Evander clapped a hand over his nose with a grimace.
Both of them cried out in pain. Evander frowned as he looked at the newcomer, but when he saw it was Natasha, his expression softened. “Oh, it’s you,” Evander said.
That was his soon-to-be Princess Consort, after all.
Evander always felt that Natasha was his personal jinx–ever since they were kids, every encounter brought him nothing but misfortune.
They had never managed to get along, not even once.
Strangely enough, today Natasha was acting like a completely different person–none of her usual loud, boisterous antics in sight.
Feigning alarm, Natasha quickly produced a handkerchief and stepped forward with exaggerated concern. She asked, her voice dripping with false solicitude, “Your Highness, are you alright? It’s all my fault–I didn’t notice you. Are you badly hurt? Does it hurt terribly?”
Natasha’s words made Evander feel as if he’d come face to face with a ferocious beast.
If he hadn’t known for sure it was Natasha standing before him, he’d have thought he were in a dream.
Evander took a discreet step back, his gaze guarded as he looked at her. “This prince is fine,” he insisted.
‘Like hell I’m fine,’ Evander thought. ‘My nose is killing me.’
“It’s all my fault, Your Highness. Please don’t hold it against a silly girl like me,” Natasha cooed with exaggerated sweetness, fluttering her eyelashes at Evander and giving him a sickly sweet smile.
A violent shiver ran down Evander’s spine.
‘This is terrifying,’ he thought.
Evander turned to leave hastily. “No offense taken, no offense taken. This prince has urgent matters. Miss Beren, please excuse me.”
But Natasha blocked his path, putting on her most earnest expression. “Your Highness, could you do me a favor? My horse, Vortex, ran out of the city–could you please help me get him back?”
As she hobbled forward with an exaggerated limp, Evander’s gaze dropped to her ankle. “Are you hurt?” he asked, suspicion lacing his voice.
“I bumped into a pillar and startled Vortex,” Natasha whimpered in an artificially sweet tone, gently tugging at Evander’s sleeve, her eyes glistening with tears. “Vortex is my dearest companion–if I lose him, I might as well die.”
Listening to her own sickly-sweet baby voice, Natasha nearly gagged.
‘But if I wanted revenge and to break off this ridiculous engagement with Evander, this was the only card I had left to play,’ she thought bitterly.
A flicker of hesitation crossed Evander’s face. He craned his neck, his eyes darting nervously left and right, as if searching for an escape from the bizarre situation.
Natasha feigned confusion and asked in a sickly-sweet tone, “Your Highness, what are you looking at?”
In her haste, she momentarily forgot to put on her sugary act, but quickly slipped back into her honeyed tone and cooed, “Your Highness, please help me.”
“Did you come out alone?” Evander asked cautiously.
Natasha shook her head pitifully. “No.”
Evander looked flustered. “This prince has urgent matters to attend to-”
Before Evander could finish his sentence, Natasha suddenly flung herself into his arms and burst into theatrical tears.
He felt like his scalp was about to explode, his hands hovering in midair–itching to push her away, yet not daring to.
Evander could only plead helplessly, “Miss Gu, have some decency.”
“We’re practically husband and wife already, yet you won’t even do this one little thing for me? If you can’t even do this for me now, what hope do I have for our future together? I might as well just dash my brains out right now.”
Natasha suddenly lunged toward a stone, clearly about to smash her head against it. Evander panicked–there was no way he could let her die before his eyes.
Evander hastily grabbed her arm and yanked her back with force, sending Natasha tumbling against his chest once more.
Evander’s face flushed crimson as he let out a defeated sigh. “Fine,” he conceded, “let’s go find your Vortex.”