Chapter 287 Hevenfort: The Ghost Of The Past 2
Ares’s gaze never once settled on Lara.
Instead, it was fixed on the four-poster bed standing at the center of the chamber, as though it held a secret only he could see.
Both Princess Zinnia and Erina followed his line of sight before looking back at him.
“He’s looking at me… Oh my gosh. Those eyes… I think I’m going to have a heart attack,” Erina thought, her pulse fluttering wildly.
Princess Zinnia’s lips curved into a radiant smile. There was no doubt in her mind that those mesmerizing obsidian eyes were filled with admiration—for her.
Neither of them realized they had misunderstood.
Ares wasn’t truly seeing the room before him.
His eyes were fixed on echoes of another lifetime.
Fragments of memories drifted through his mind like fading dreams.
…The quiet, intimate moments he had shared with Lara.
…The adorable way her cheeks would bloom crimson every time he stole a kiss.
…The way her copper hair spilled across the bed in shimmering waves, catching the light like molten gold.
His chest tightened.
He didn’t dare blink.
He feared that the moment he closed his eyes, even for an instant, the fragile vision would disappear, taking the last traces of those precious memories with it.
Mistaking his silence for fascination, Erina stepped toward him with graceful confidence. A shy smile bloomed across her face as she extended her delicate right hand.
Her heart raced with anticipation.
Surely, he would take it.
Surely, he would lift it to his lips and press a gentle kiss against her knuckles, just as princes did in the fairy tales she had cherished since childhood.
…
Ares’ vision shattered without warning.
In its place was an ever-enlarging face—the President’s daughter rushing straight toward him.
Before she could collide with him, Ares sidestepped with effortless precision.
Erina stumbled past him, her balance faltering.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Ares demanded, his voice cold with unmistakable annoyance.
Had Liam not reacted in time, she would have fallen flat on the polished floor. He caught her by the arm and steadied her.
“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.
“I… I…” Erina stammered, her cheeks burning with humiliation.
Her mind was in complete disarray.
What just happened?
Wasn’t he staring at me just moments ago?
She could have sworn those dark, mesmerizing eyes had been filled with longing.
For one fleeting, foolish moment, she had been certain he was looking at her.
The certainty had swept her off her feet, carrying her toward him before reason could catch up. Like the gallant princes from every fairy tale she had ever loved, she expected him to smile… to call her name… perhaps even reach for her hand.
Instead—
He looked at her as though she were nothing more than an inconvenience standing in his way.
The coldness in his gaze hit her like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing every hopeful fantasy in an instant.
Then… he wasn’t looking at me at all.
A knot formed in her chest as understanding dawned.
Was he looking at the princess?
Princess Zinnia met her eyes with a smug, knowing smile before gracefully turning toward Ares.
“Ares, I have a question for you.”
Lara gently nudged his arm. Only then did Ares lower his gaze to her.
The moment their eyes met, his breath caught.
Her eyes…
They sparkled exactly like they had in his vision.
His heart skipped.
Lara on the other hand quickly looked away and whispered, “Go. The princess is calling you.”
Though reluctant, Ares stepped forward. But before crossing the threshold, he reached for Lara’s hand, intertwining their fingers as naturally as breathing, and led her with him.
“Yes, Princess,” Ares replied, his voice calm and composed.
Princess Zinnia’s eyes immediately fell to their joined hands.
For the briefest moment, a frown flickered across her face.
Then it disappeared beneath a playful smile.
So this is the kind of man he is, she mused. Openly flirting with me while refusing to let go of another woman’s hand.
Instead of feeling offended, she found herself amused.
Very well.
If he wishes to play, then I’ll play too.
She stepped closer, positioning herself at Ares’s left while Lara remained at his right.
“I was wondering,” she began sweetly, “as a descendant of Emperor Alaric, what are your thoughts about this room?”
Without a word, Ares shifted a single step toward Lara, widening the distance between himself and the princess.
The movement was subtle.
Deliberate.
Prince Yohannes caught it immediately.
He shot his sister a warning look, bewildered that someone as perceptive and as smart as Zinnia would ask such an unnecessary question.
“My thoughts about this room,” Ares answered evenly, “are of little concern to Your Highness.”
His tone was impeccably respectful.
His distance, unmistakable.
Disappointment briefly clouded Princess Zinnia’s face, but she recovered with practiced grace.
“Why not ask for my thoughts, Princess?” Anton Trillo remarked casually, his fingers trailing over the intricate carvings of the massive wooden headboard. “After all, I too am of royal blood—a descendant of the Fifth Prince’s line.”
Princess Zinnia let out a quiet snort.
As if anyone cared what an old man thought.
He looked even older than her father.
Before she could dismiss him, Erina spoke up with genuine enthusiasm. Anton Trillo had helped her more than once over the years, and she held him in high regard.
“Then, Mr. Trillo,” she said with a warm smile, “please share your thoughts with us.”
Anton chuckled softly before sweeping his gaze across the imperial bedchamber.
“Well…” he began, “one thing is abundantly clear.”
“Emperor Alaric lived in extraordinary luxury.”
He gestured around the room.
“Just look at the sheer size of this chamber. The craftsmanship… the rare timber… the bed itself has withstood a volcanic eruption and centuries of decay.”
He paused, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
“An emperor who could afford such extravagance surely enjoyed every pleasure life had to offer.”
Amelia frowned.
“He was the Emperor,” she said firmly. “He earned the right to live like this.”
Anton inclined his head.
“I never said otherwise, little lady.”
His smile widened ever so slightly.
“I’m merely wondering how many breathtaking women shared this very bed.”
Silence.
Then—
“How dare you slander Emperor Alaric!”
The furious voice echoed through the imperial bedchamber, deep and thunderous enough to make the walls seem to tremble.
Even Anton froze. For the first time in years, someone had startled him.
He looked at the sliver- haired Persius, then spoke again, his voice colder than before.
“It may not be written in your history…”
A heavy pause settled over the room.
“…but do you truly believe an emperor would be content with only one woman?”
Lara’s expression darkened.
Beside her, Ares’ eyes turned icy.
An oppressive chill swept through the chamber, as though the room itself had taken offense.