Chapter 50

Unable to close her mouth, Elena watched the scene unfold, feeling as if Kennard had emerged from another realm. The gaze of the black wolf that appeared with a chill wind immediately fixed on Elena. A brief flame ignited in his golden eyes as he took in the sight before him.

Cura, upon seeing Kennard, released Hazel and sank heavily onto the edge of the fountain. Hazel stood silently in the water, watching Kennard approach Elena. The fact that Kennard headed straight for Elena without even glancing at her made Hazel’s face flush with anger.

Kennard, now in human form, leapt into the fountain without hesitation. “Elena!” he called, kneeling on one knee before embracing her. Held against his solid chest, Elena felt all her strength drain away in relief. “Your Grace,” she murmured.

“How did this happen?” Kennard asked, gently stroking her head with his large hand. He pulled back slightly to look at her, his touch gentle as he swept his hand over her face and neck to check her condition. Yet, his expression grew increasingly fierce. “What are these wounds? Did Hazel do this?” He noticed the blood from her wounds spreading in the water.

As Kennard tried to help her up, Elena pulled back, stopping him. “Your Grace, I am fine. But Miss Carmen is in danger. She has been poisoned by Vanaichi and it is spreading.”

Carmen’s condition was more urgent than Elena’s own. The poison spreading through Carmen’s body needed to be neutralized immediately.

“Please, save Miss Carmen,” Elena pleaded, pointing to Carmen with a trembling finger. Her vision blurred, and the ground beneath her swayed and shimmered as if covered in heat waves. As Elena’s body began to sway, Kennard caught her in his arms once more.

He understood better than anyone the dire state Carmen was in. Despite this, Kennard kept his gaze fixed solely on Elena, refusing to move. Just then, knights transformed into wolves rushed into the greenhouse. Briefly bewildered by the scene, they soon reverted to their human forms one by one. Leading the group was a wolf with silvery fur tinged with brown—Serin.

“Cura!” Serin called out, running to her and checking her condition. “What happened?”

“Miss Hazel pushed me into the Vanaichi. I told her repeatedly it was poisonous… If it hadn’t been for Lady Elena, I would have ended up like that…” Cura pointed at Carmen, tears welling up.

Serin gently patted Cura’s head, and she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. The knights examined Carmen’s condition but hesitated to touch her, fearing the poison. Carmen was barely visible through the group, her exposed skin dark red and motionless as if dead.

“Your Grace, Miss Carmen…” one of the knights started.

“It’s already too late,” Kennard replied, shaking his head despite Elena’s pleading.

“But…”

“And you?” Kennard asked, turning his attention back to Elena.

“What?”

“Don’t you need my help?” Kennard continued to look at Elena. Since entering the greenhouse, he hadn’t taken his eyes off her for a moment. It was as if he couldn’t focus on anything else but her.

“I’ll ask again. Elena, do you want me?” Kennard’s question sent Elena’s mind spinning with confusion. She couldn’t fathom why he was asking such a thing, yet her instincts insisted she needed to answer, fearing she might lose him forever if she didn’t.

“Your Grace, I…” Elena began, but her words faltered as Kennard’s expression darkened.

“Haven’t I made it clear that you are mine?” he demanded, his tone sharp with frustration. “Do you wish to escape from me even after all we’ve been through? I have no intention of letting you go. If you want to leave, you’ll have to kill me first.”

His hand extended towards her, a silent invitation. “If you want me, take my hand now. Embrace me fully, and no harm will befall you. But remember, once you grasp my hand, you can never let go.”

Elena’s gaze dropped to Kennard’s outstretched hand, weathered and scarred from battles fought. She pondered whether there could exist a safer harbor than his embrace. Yet, alongside that thought, a sharp pang pierced her heart.

Despite the uncertainty of her true identity, the uncertainty of her memories, and even the possibility of a marriage with Hazel, there had been countless moments when she yearned to relinquish everything and remain by Kennard’s side. But she couldn’t.

The mystery of his unwavering devotion still eluded her.

The idea that Kennard might reciprocate her feelings seemed like nothing more than wishful thinking, a fragile hope she couldn’t bring herself to fully embrace. Even if by some chance Kennard did harbor the same emotions, she couldn’t deny the possibility that he might already be bound to another. If he were, indeed, tied to someone else, he would inevitably depart from her side. This fear gnawed at her, distinct from the prospect of his marriage to Hazel. It was this fear that fueled her desire to distance herself from him, to leave before he could abandon her.

Despite enduring countless humiliations at Hazel’s hands, Elena found herself perpetually scheming her escape from the castle, from Kennard. In her efforts, she had always feigned ignorance of the hand Kennard extended towards her. But now, the disparity in their feelings mattered little. She wanted to seize his hand, to intertwine their destinies.

“I want you,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” Kennard’s eyes widened at her unexpected declaration.

“I want you, Your Grace. Please, take me with you.”

Why did uttering those words feel like wrenching open a sealed chest, releasing a flood of pent-up emotions? Tears streamed down Elena’s cheeks, no longer held back by the dam of her reluctance.

“Finally, you say it,” Kennard whispered tenderly as he wiped away her tears. He shed his coat and enveloped her in it, cradling her as though she were made of delicate porcelain. Water cascaded from their bodies, mingling with the pool below as a cold wind swept through the shattered roof of the greenhouse. Despite the chill, being ensconced in Kennard’s embrace brought a warmth to Elena’s soul that defied the biting cold.

Kennard, holding Elena close, stepped out of the fountain and abruptly halted, turning to fix his steely gaze on Hazel.

“I’ll give you until tomorrow morning,” he declared, his voice resonating with an unmistakable edge. “It’s in your best interest to vacate this castle promptly. And never again presume to present yourself before Elena or me.”

With each word, Elena sensed the simmering fury coursing through Kennard’s sturdy frame.

“What significance does this wretched woman hold for you that you treat me with such disdain?” Hazel’s voice cracked with emotion, her features contorted with frustration.

“Why?!” Her words rang out, punctuated by the chill of the damp air, her shivering form a stark contrast against the backdrop of Kennard and Elena.

Serin, Cura, and the knights stood frozen, their gazes darting between Hazel and Kennard, stunned by the unprecedented confrontation unfolding before them.

“Silence.” Kennard’s command cut through Hazel’s tirade, his voice lower than usual yet filled with a restrained intensity that chilled the greenhouse air.

“This is your final warning,” he continued, his words laden with an ominous weight. “Should you dare lay a hand on what belongs to me again, I will show you no mercy.”

Elena knew without doubt that Kennard meant every syllable. The anger swirling in his deep golden eyes sent a shiver down her spine, the palpable aura of menace making her tremble involuntarily.

Kennard’s gaze softened as he looked down at Elena. “Let’s get you warmed up with some hot water when we return,” he suggested, his once cold and steely eyes now gentle. He cast a brief glance back at the knights remaining in the greenhouse.

“After sunrise tomorrow, anyone not among my people still within the castle may be dealt with, regardless of their status.”

“Yes, sir!” came the swift and dutiful responses from Serin and the knights as Kennard turned to leave.

***

Elena gazed silently at Cura’s reflection in the mirror before settling into a chair. Cura, who had been drying Elena’s hair with a thick cloth, managed a strained smile when their eyes met. Her eyes were swollen from crying, barely able to open, and her usually cheerful freckles seemed subdued, reflecting her current state.

Cura hadn’t had a moment’s rest, immediately attending to Elena’s needs upon their return to the castle. Despite Kennard’s attempts to delegate the task to another maid, Cura insisted on seeing it through herself.

Elena gently took the cloth from Cura’s hand, placing it on her lap before grasping Cura’s hand in return. “It’s alright now,” she assured softly.