My Evil Husband
Gave him a Little Dignity

“But ... I haven't trained enough.”

An arrogant grin appeared on Layla's face. “No need to practice, you won't be able to beat me.”

“How did you know before I tried?”

“If you admit your defeat, I will give you a little dignity.”

“What dignity?”

“Didn't we just agree? After I win, you have to listen to me. Are you afraid I want you to be my servant after losing to me?” Layla's grin deepened, lifting her chin higher as her arrogance nearly touched the sky proudly.

“Then, why don't you admit defeat and surrender to me?” Esme reversed her remark, “If you admit your defeat to me, I will also leave you with a little dignity.”

“What joke is it?” Clara could not help but interrupt. “Depending on your skill level, you want to win from us? If you obviously can't win, why should we take the initiative to admit defeat?”

Esme also raised her chin provocatively. “Nobody knows the result until the end. Are you sure I can't win?” Esme gave a pause, then continued again, “I am very proficient in the game. I'm sure that I'm also very good in real life as well.”

“Who wins, who loses, we will know once we start the game.” Layla moves forward like a proud peacock. “I'll let you do it first.”

Esme's face instantly bloomed as if she was given a huge advantage, agreeing in an instant, “Good. I'll do it first.”

Layla and Clara stand by the side as they watch Esme's nock arrow, pull, and ….

The hand was removed and the arrow flew out.

Both Layla and Clara twisted their necks to see the escape better, and the results were clear. Clara laughed out loud.

Crossing arrow trajectory, darting past the target marker.

“Ah, shit!” Esme shook her head in disappointment, “Why is it so deviant?”

“Esme, you will definitely run!” Clara rubs salt into Esme's wound, satisfied with ‘failure’ Esme.

“What's wrong? In that world, my shots were very accurate. Why can't you feel the same way here?”

That is the truth. These bows and arrows really felt different from the ones he had known in his past life.

As for Layla, her mouth was smiling with a proud smile. A satisfied and bright light passed through his eyes. “Esme, my turn.” He said arrogantly.

Esme continues to study modern bow sculptures. According to him, this modern arc model .. is of low quality.

Layla's arrow flew straight at the target, but it didn't hit the cow's eye. However, it was clear that this round was a victory of his.

Esme raised her head and glanced at the target, “You shot?”

“Although it has not hit the center point, my arrow hit the target. This round, you lose.”

“You first!” Esme snapped, impatient.

‘The impatience’ in Layla's eyes is a form of weakness. This made Layla's smile widen, feeling that victory was already in her hands even before the match began.

Layla pulls out a new arrow, pulls and releases.

Just like the previous shot, he hit the target, but not the center point. However, Layla was very satisfied with the result.

“Both of my arrows hit the target. Esme, you will accompany Seth later when he runs ten rounds.” Then, her eyes sharpened as she added, “Run, naked!”

Staring haughtily at Layla, Esme replied, “You only hit the target, not that you won. What if my two arrows reach the center point?”

Esme smiled sweetly as she picked up the arrow from the side. This time, his posture as he pulled the bowstring was not the perfunctory action he displayed earlier.

But, every corner and its position was perfect, exuding beauty and elegance.

His aiming attitude was serious and cool, and at this moment Layla caught a glint of cold light glittering in Esme's eyes.

Why is the current so different now?

Why did he feel such a strong pressure coming from Esme?

Esme aimed at a distant target, ready to release her arrow. The pose of his establishment, the way he drew the bow .. was a thousand times sharper than what he had seen before.

Clara sneered in a disdainful tone, “See him, look! He made the show again.”

A minute later, the arrow was still in Esme's hand.

Clara is getting impatient, “Shoot fast! Don't tell me you don't dare, huh?”

His seriousness like this made him remember the old him. The ruthless emperor was his childhood sweetheart, loved to play crossbows, and had a strong desire to become a General when he grew up.

Knowing if they were going to split up and the Emperor was going to join the army, what the Emperor liked he would like as well. He learned to shoot with an arrow, he would learn that as well. The emperor learned to ride horses, he followed. The emperor learned martial arts and mastered the sword, he followed.

These archery skills were also taught by the Emperor since they were children.

Educate him like an elder brother, firm and serious. Their childhood together was a wonderful time. Even the eight-year war was a good memory.

Until the Emperor has achieved his goal, it has its own imperial palace. That's when everything started to change.

Influenced by these memories, Esme's eyes dimmed. A pain ran through his heart.

Suddenly Esme's back stiffened. His mind had taken over all views, snatched away his consciousness and mistakenly thought that the man in front was a ruthless Emperor and he had a strong urge to snatch lives using the arrow in his hand.

“It is pure thoroughbred horse, soft and fast. I named it Thunderbolt Knight.” Seth smiled and bragged.

They each pick a horse and are on their way back to the archery range where Esme is.

Jason's reaction is very light, “I'll still use Blackie.” Although Blackie was held behind Seth, Jason would ride him whenever he came.

“Well, I'll ride Thunderbolt to compete with you and Blackie. We'll see who's really the fastest.”

There ….

“Why hasn't he shot?” Clara was so anxious that she prepared to step on Esme's foot.

Esme did not hear what Clara was talking about, but, Jason and Seth's conversation floated into her ear instead. The target angle shifted slightly towards them.

Knowing he had to run ten laps of swallow ljang, Seth traveled back to the chalet carrying a white scarf so that he could wrap his waist later.

Right now, a white scarf hangs around Jason's shoulder. When the wind blew, a white scarf fluttered like the arm of a dancer.

A familiar face, a familiar figure, made Esme melancholic look at Jason as the ruthless Emperor. His mind grew increasingly interested in retreating, returning to the scene in the old Palace.

In his eyes, it was a three-foot long white silk.

***