The Scum Emperor's Redemption System - Chapter 67

Chapter 67: Psychosexual Trial (4)
[Chapter Will Be Heavily Edited & Changed. If You Have Read This, Come Back A Few Days Later From The Part One of Psychosexual Trial]

Her lips curved into a faint smile. “I only wish to help,” she said. “You look like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Even a king—no, especially a king—deserves someone to share the burden with.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m no king anymore. Just a man drowning in his own mistakes.”

“Then let someone throw you a lifeline,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

She poured the wine, handing him a goblet. He took it hesitantly, his fingers brushing hers. The brief contact sent a shiver down his spine, and he hated how easily his body betrayed him. He sipped the wine, the rich flavor doing little to ease his discomfort.

The maid sat across from him, her gaze steady. “You don’t have to say anything,” she said. “Sometimes, it’s enough just to have someone here.”

Argider nodded, unsure of what to say. The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable but charged with something unspoken.

“You’re very kind,” he said finally. “Too kind, perhaps.”

“Kindness isn’t a flaw, Majesty,” she said, tilting her head.

“It can be,” he replied, his voice low. “Especially when it leads people to places they shouldn’t go.”

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she stood, moving closer to him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, light but firm.

“Majesty,” she said softly, “you’ve been alone for too long. Let me help you, even if just for tonight.”

Her words hung in the air, and Argider felt his heart race. The warmth of her hand, the softness in her voice—it was intoxicating.

“I…” He trailed off, his mind a storm of conflicting emotions.

She knelt before him, her hand sliding from his shoulder to his chest. “You don’t have to be strong all the time,” she whispered.

Argider froze, his breath hitching. He couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward her—the comfort, the closeness, the chance to forget his pain, even for a moment.

But then he thought of his wives. He thought of Esmeralda’s scornful words, Fiorenza’s mocking laugh, Calienne’s quiet disappointment. He thought of the promises he had made—to himself, to them, to be better. To be worthy.

“I can’t,” he said abruptly, his voice firm but pained.

The maid looked up at him, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “Majesty, I only want to—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his tone softening. “And I’m grateful. Truly. But this… this isn’t the answer.”

He stood, stepping away from her. The space between them felt like a chasm, but it was necessary. “I’ve made too many mistakes already,” he said. “I can’t add another to the list.”

The maid rose slowly, her gaze lingering on him. “You’re too hard on yourself,” she said quietly.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But I need to be. If I don’t hold myself to a higher standard, who will?”

She nodded, though her eyes held a trace of sadness. “You’re a good man, Argider,” she said, her use of his name startling him. “More than you know.”

He laughed bitterly. “I wish I could believe that.”

“Then start,” she said simply. “Believe it, and prove it—to yourself and to them.”

Her words struck a chord in him, and for a moment, he felt a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.

The maid stepped back, giving him a small, understanding smile. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts,” she said.

As she reached the door, she paused, looking over her shoulder. “If you ever need someone to talk to, I’ll be here.”

Argider nodded, unable to find the words to respond.

When she left, the silence felt different. It wasn’t as oppressive as before, but it wasn’t entirely comforting either. Argider sank back into his chair, his mind racing.

The temptation had been real, and the pull toward her had been stronger than he wanted to admit. But he’d resisted. Somehow, he’d found the strength to say no, to step back from the edge.

He thought of his wives again, their faces flashing in his mind. They deserved better than the man he had been—the selfish, careless man who had taken their love for granted.

If he gave in now, what would that make him? A hypocrite? A coward? He couldn’t afford to be either.

Argider stood, moving to the window. The night sky stretched out before him, vast and unyielding. He took a deep breath, the cool air soothing his frayed nerves.

He wasn’t there yet—wasn’t the man he wanted to be, the man his wives deserved. But he was trying. And for now, that had to be enough.

The maid’s presence became a constant in his days. She was efficient, attentive, and always seemed to know when he needed something—even when he didn’t ask. But her lingering glances and subtle touches didn’t go unnoticed, and Argider couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward her.

One night, she brought him a fresh blanket, draping it over his shoulders as he sat by the fire. Her hands lingered on his shoulders, her touch warm and inviting.

“You shouldn’t keep everything bottled up, Majesty,” she said softly, her voice soothing.

Argider stiffened, his hands tightening into fists. “I’m fine,” he said, though his voice betrayed him.

“Are you?” she asked, her hands slipping down to rest lightly on his arms.

He stood abruptly, stepping away from her. “You should go,” he said, his tone firm.

The maid hesitated, her expression a mix of concern and disappointment. “If that’s what you wish,” she said, bowing before leaving the room.

Alone again, Argider let out a shaky breath. His body ached with longing, not just for physical intimacy but for connection, for understanding. But he couldn’t let himself give in—not like this.

Argider stood outside Esmeralda’s chambers, his palms clammy and his heart pounding. He had paced the hallway for nearly ten minutes, rehearsing words that felt inadequate no matter how he strung them together. For weeks, he had let the weight of his loneliness and frustration keep him away, afraid of rejection, of failure. But now, he was done hiding behind his fear.

He took a deep breath and knocked.

“Enter,” came Esmeralda’s voice, cool and measured as always.

Argider pushed the door open, stepping into the room. Esmeralda sat at a small table near the window, a quill in hand and a stack of parchment before her. The evening sunlight bathed her in a golden glow, but her sharp eyes remained focused on him.

“Majesty,” she said without looking up, her tone formal and distant.

“Esmeralda,” he began, his voice softer than he intended.

That made her pause. She set the quill down and finally met his gaze, her expression guarded. “What do you want?”

He stepped closer, his hands clasped behind his back. “To speak with you,” he said. “If you’ll allow it.”

Her brow arched, and she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “You’ve had ample opportunity to speak with me, Argider. Why now?”

“Because I’ve been a coward,” he admitted. “And because I’ve spent too long dwelling on the past instead of trying to fix what I’ve broken.”

Esmeralda’s expression softened, but only slightly. “Go on,” she said, her tone less biting but still wary.

“I know I’ve failed you,” he said, taking another step forward. “I’ve failed all of you—my wives, my partners. I took your love for granted, and when things fell apart, I didn’t fight hard enough to hold us together. But I’m here now, and I want to try. I want to be better—not just for myself but for you.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “And why should I believe you? Words are easy, Argider. Promises even easier. What makes this time different?”

He swallowed hard, her skepticism cutting deeper than he expected. But he couldn’t blame her. He had given her every reason to doubt him.

“Because I’m not asking for forgiveness,” he said. “I’m asking for a chance to earn it.”

The room was silent for a long moment. Esmeralda’s gaze didn’t waver, but her arms slowly uncrossed, her fingers tracing the edge of the table. “You’ve always had a way with words,” she said finally.

“It’s not just words,” he insisted, taking another step closer. “I mean it. I’ve spent weeks reflecting on everything—on who I was, who I’ve been, and who I want to be. And I know I can’t undo the past, but I can learn from it. I can make different choices. Better ones.”

Esmeralda’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t tell him to leave. Instead, she gestured to the chair across from her. “Sit,” she said.

He obeyed, feeling a flicker of hope.

“You say you want to change,” she said, her tone measured. “But change takes more than reflection. It takes action, consistency. How do I know you won’t disappear again when things get hard?”

Argider looked her in the eyes, his voice steady. “Because I’m tired of running. I’m tired of hiding from my mistakes. And because you deserve someone who doesn’t give up. Someone who fights for you.”