Chapter 7 - Negotiation 1

As I turn around and see Antoninus standing behind me, I couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed.

How is it that he appeared just at the moment when I'm slapping him, I mean, his portrait? 

Perhaps he truly is a demon... capable of reading minds!

His perfectly sculpted face and frigid expression remain unchanged as he speaks with a cold and almost monotone voice, "Why are you dressed in only a nightgown?"

I suddenly realize that I'm only wearing a loosely fitting silk nightgown!

I don't wear a bra, and my chest is unconstrained, forming two small protrusions beneath the fabric...

Instinctively, I shield my chest with my arms, and he furrows his brow slightly, seemingly displeased with my actions. "Stop playing these tiresome games of trying to seduce men. At the very least, don't do it in the hallways."

What? Who do I seduce?!

If I had known he would be here, I would never have come!

Feeling indignant, I release my arms and straighten my chest. "I'm not trying to seduce anyone. It's normal to wear a nightgown at this time, isn't it?"

Ignoring my response, he turns to leave.

However, I stop him.

These days of confinement in this luxurious prison have almost driven me crazy.

Today, I must get an answer!

"Mr. President, when are you going to release me?"

He halts his steps, glances at me, and calmly replies, "I'm protecting you."

"But... I don't need your protection. You are infringing upon my personal freedom!"

Antoninus gives no reply to my words and continues walking away.

He's tall and so his strides are large. I trot behind him, trying to keep up with his pace.

"Hey! Do you hear what I said?"

"Hey!"

Yet, he shows no intention of waiting for me to catch up, not pausing his steps even for a moment.

The more he ignores me, the more determined I'm to follow.

I clutch my nightgown and chase after him, panting.

Antoninus ascends the spiral staircase at the end of the hallway, leading us to the attic where he pushes open the door.

In contrast to the antique style of other rooms, this one boasts a more modern and austere décor with abstract blocks of color and minimalist lines.

It matches his personality quite well—cold, direct, and bereft of any trace of life.

A boring fellow, indeed.

The only thing that seems to have a connection with the castle is the knight's armor standing in the corner.

Seated behind a spacious desk in this atmosphere, Antoninus resumes perusing his documents, entirely disregarding my presence.

I have initially intended to confront him firmly, but the piles of documents on his desk serves as a constant reminder that the man before me is the leader of a nation, someone I, an ordinary person, couldn't afford to provoke.

Yet, if I were to leave like this, who knows when he'll come back again? After a few months?

I hesitate before stepping forward, standing side by side with the empty knight's armor. I wait quietly for him to finish handling the affairs at hand.

However, the knight's armor do catch my curiosity. I gently caress the intricate patterns and obvious sword marks on it, wondering about its history.

"Do you like it?" Antoninus looks up from behind the documents.

I nod gently. "It's quite exquisite. Is it authentic?"

"Does it make a difference?" he replies. "Authentic or not, it's nothing more than a superficial ornament."

His tone is chilly and seems to carry some underlying meaning.

Perhaps, even the days of a president aren't as pleasant as they seem?

As I contemplate his thoughts, I accidentally touch the armor, causing one of the "knight's" arms to fall off.

"Ah!"

I let out a cry of pain, my forehead drenches in cold sweat.

Antoninus hears the sound and hurries over to check.

My toes are already swollen from being hit by the fallen armor. Underneath my white toenails, traces of purple blood have quickly spread.

Antoninus crouches behind me, allowing me to lean against his shoulder while he gently examines my foot.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little."

As I glance at the scattered armor pieces around us, I apologize, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break it..."

"My fault."

Huh? What does he mean?

I look down, and he is massaging my toe gently. The knight's armor lies scattered around us, and my golden hair lie gently over him like a sacred moonlight.

My heart skips a beat, and my cheeks flush inexplicably.

It feels like a scene from a fairy tale—a tale of a knight and a princess, two people who had journeyed together through countless mountains and rivers. Finally, on a moonlit night, by the warm and bright campfire, the knight gently massaged the princess's feet, their hearts connected...

That strange, tingling sensation begins to radiate from my toes. My breath catches, and I instinctively pull my foot away.

"I'm sorry, Mr. President..."

Antoninus pauses for a moment, then rises to his feet again. His demeanor remains calm and collected, "Try walking to see if you can manage."

As soon as I put weight on my foot, a sharp hiss escaped my lips, and I nearly stumble. He quickly reaches out to support me, but I instinctively recoil, saying, "I can manage on my own."

I try putting my heel down and manage to hobble two steps. It isn't too bad; I haven't injured any tendons or bones. I just need some time to recover.

He stays by my side, guarding me, and then surprisingly praises, "You're not quite what I had imagined."

"What do you mean?" I ask, puzzled.

He returns to his seat at the desk and says, "Tell me, about your earlier question. Do you want to leave here?"

Who knows why he suddenly shows such kindness. I only know I have to seize the opportunity before he changes his mind. Limping, I rush over to negotiate.

"Yes, Mr. President. I've been here for a month, and I want to go back!"

"Give me a reason."

"I need to work."

He rejects me outright, "Your job is to accompany Chris. If you need money, just tell Lawrence, and he'll provide for you."

"But it's not just about money, it's about my career! Do you understand?"

Furrowing his brow, he asks, "Don't you work for money?"

"Yes, but having a job also ensures that when I run out of my money, I won't starve to death!"

"Well, what if I give you money that you will never run out of?"

I'm taken aback for a moment.

With a faint smile, he continues, "As long as you stay here with Chris, I'll pay you a monthly salary of $100,000."

"This is the agreement I just drafted. Take a look."

"In addition, the agreement will remain in effect even after my term ends."

"At the very least, by the time Chris reaches adulthood, you will have at least 16 million dollars. I believe this should be enough to keep you from starving. Any other questions?"

"I...," I look down at the contract he pushes towards me.

A monthly salary of $100,000.

My current annual salary is far from that amount...