In the Name of Empress-Chapter 472 - 316: Blood, That’s Blood! (Part 3)

Alina’s body trembled slightly, her smile somewhat forced.

"Sure, but before painting, I’d like to have a few drinks with you."

"Can you still hold a paintbrush after a few drinks?" Roland asked curiously.

"Of course, many artists have to be half-drunk before they start creating."

Since Alina said so, Roland naturally didn’t want to be pretentious. He poured the wine for the two of them and raised his glass proactively.

"Every encounter in life is a reunion after a long time, cheers to the reunion!"

"This sentence is full of philosophy, cheers to the reunion!" Alina raised her glass in response.

She drank it all in one go, a few drops of crimson wine inadvertently slid down her lip corners, tracing down her fair neck, passing through the deep valley, leaving a mark.

Roland’s gaze became fixed, his body warming slightly.

What’s happening, could it really be they’ve been apart from his beloved wife for too long?

Roland downed another gulp of wine, striving to clear his thoughts.

"A brief separation is for a better reunion, another glass!"

Roland didn’t want to think, only wanted to become intoxicated.

He made up his mind to make a trip back tomorrow.

He didn’t want to interrogate which part went wrong, nor did he want to say anything that might disrupt the unity.

He only wanted to see Sif.

This night’s intoxication was only for better clarity tomorrow.

Those who haven’t been drunk wouldn’t understand what sobriety truly is.

Roland drank hastily, hardly having time to eat a bite of steak.

Since he drank quickly, Alina couldn’t help but accompany him.

The wine prepared tonight was strong; they drank hastily and naturally became intoxicated quickly.

The image of Roland in Alina’s view began to blur, even becoming two, three.

And the beauty in front of Roland suddenly transformed into his beloved wife, Sif.

He forcefully pushed aside the dining table, cupped Alina’s face, and in a daze, was about to lean in for a kiss.

"Mmm, hm..."

A soft, cat-like murmur echoed in his ears.

Roland suddenly sobered up slightly.

This is Alina! No, there’s definitely something wrong with the wine!

Cold sweat slipped down his cheek, instinctively he wanted to push Alina away, but all he could see was her soft, confused gaze.

Damn it, who drugged the wine?

Roland quickly deduced the additive in the wine, an emotional stimulant, amplifying desires infinitely.

Originally possessing just a fraction of base instinct, under the drug’s influence, he couldn’t help but wish to find a warm refuge immediately.

Roland forcefully pushed Alina away.

Though impolite, it was better than being enslaved by regrets afterward.

He admitted he wasn’t a chaste person but never hoped to do anything foolishly.

Alina’s status was special, not someone who could be easily discarded after a fling.

He couldn’t let his desires override his rationality.

Yet Roland couldn’t push Alina away at all; his entire body was weakened, only a part was untimely excited.

Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, he used all his remaining strength and whispered to Alina’s ear:

"Accompany me for a few more drinks."

In her daze, Alina’s awareness had fallen into chaos, subconsciously complying with Roland’s request.

Roland exhausted his last strength, uncorking the wine bottle, pouring aggressively down his throat.

To hell with it, tonight he must drink to oblivion.

Everyone knows, a man only has the ability to assault when pretending to be drunk.

Truly drunk, blood can’t flow downward, rendering him powerless.

Roland’s alcohol tolerance was good but couldn’t withstand such indulgence; soon he became dizzy.

His last memory faintly recalled falling onto the bed, and then losing consciousness.

...

When he woke up the next day, there was no one beside him, only a faint lingering scent.

He swiftly felt under the covers, relieved, though his outerwear was removed, his underwear remained.

Roland shook his head, groggily rising; he felt chilly down below.

Looking down, though he wore underwear, it wasn’t his own but...

Damn.

He couldn’t help but close his eyes, unable to bear the sight.

Pink fabric stains had dried, yet looked shockingly vivid.

He stood frozen, silently changing into new clothes, seeing the palm-sized fabric and striking crimson stains, momentarily at a loss for words.

As he stared blankly, the door creaked open.

He quickly hid the pink garment behind him, his heart racing.

Standing at the doorway was Alina, whom he least wanted to confront.

Seeing Alina’s weary pale face, Roland’s heart quivered.

Did something really happen between them last night?

If it indeed occurred, no matter what, he must take responsibility.

Alina stood before him, softly speaking: "Are you going home?"

"Yes, let’s fight together again during the final battle."

"These are gifts I’ve prepared for Empress Sylph and Miss Lisa, please take them to them."

Alina presented two exquisite boxes, striving to maintain a calm demeanor.

Roland longed to be an ostrich, but he chose to face reality.

What had happened couldn’t be undone, avoiding it served no purpose.

He blushed, withdrawing his hands from behind his back, holding the damn underwear that wasn’t his.

"Is this yours?"

"Yes, keep it as a memento." Alina’s voice was flat but slightly tremulous.

"Did we... last night..."

"Don’t worry, nothing happened, you were very drunk." Alina’s tone was somewhat cold.

"But..."

"No buts, I helped you to bed; you were already incoherent, starting to tug at my clothes, I fought back but you were too strong."

Alina raised her right arm, shrugging, "Look, this is where the blood came from."

There was a scratch on her fair arm.

Roland dumbfounded for a few seconds, a smile finally forming on his lips.

Thank goodness, he was right; a man can do nothing when drunk.

Seeing his relieved expression, Alina couldn’t help but glare at him, "Roland, realizing nothing happened with me makes you this happy? I won’t forget this insult!"

Since no grave mistake was made, Roland naturally allowed Alina to vent.

After venting her anger with a few punches, Alina’s anger somewhat dissipated.

"Thank you, Roland. Rest for today, I still have many things to ask you. Tomorrow I’ll take you home."

Since Alina said so, Roland naturally wouldn’t refuse.

Watching Alina’s departing figure, then glancing at the blood-stained pink garment, he couldn’t help but sigh.

At least, for that moment earlier, he genuinely felt a bit regretful it wasn’t real.