Chapter 105

Rezette stared down at the mountainside, a heavy weight settling in his chest. Just moments ago, a pair of colossal eyes, painted onto the landscape itself, had blinked shut. The rustling bushes and rocks that once veiled their edges now lay still.

The dragon was gone, leaving only a hollow shell.

“Gone so easily?” Rezette muttered, the words of Sameshita echoing in his mind. The dragon’s name, its power, its magic… Sameshita’s bloodline could manipulate magic by invoking the dragon’s name.

A startling realization dawned on him. If Elise called upon the dragon, Sameshita could sense her. And Sameshita had spoken as if Elise had already reached out, hinting at the ancient dragon’s long-standing awareness of the girl.

A jolt of dread lanced through Rezette. Where was the dragon headed now?

As he descended the mountain, a horrifying scene unfolded before him. Half the knights writhed in agony, clutching their ears while others violently retched. Rezette himself battled a surge of violent impulses and a terrifying heat that radiated from within. Whether it stemmed from the entity itself, the illness’s source, or simply contact with it, his emotions were a tempestuous sea. He grabbed the struggling Ruben by the shoulders and hauled him away from the chaos, barely managing to keep his own grip.

The imposing silhouette of Rotiara’s fortress sent a tremor of fear through Rezette. He dispatched Ruben to scout ahead, then retreated to a secluded corner, desperately trying to extinguish the flicker of unease that still burned within him.

Surely, he thought, wrestling with his emotions, Sameshita wouldn’t pursue Elise. A creature of such power must surely be able to differentiate between Gallian and his descendants.

But logic offered little comfort. The gnawing anxiety refused to be quelled. His normally dependable black steed mirrored his agitation, tossing its head and pawing impatiently. With a restless nudge, Rezette urged the horse into a swift gallop towards the castle. Ignoring the greetings of curious servants, he stormed inside and headed straight for the staircase leading to his chambers.

The cryptic warning echoed in his mind, its weight intensifying with each step up the narrowing spiral. “Don’t trust humans. Especially those of Gallian’s lineage.” It had seemed like a paranoid outburst at the time, but now…

“Rezette, your wife often calls for me…”

Just a week prior, Rezette had felt a sense of absolute possession over Elise. Now, he felt incomplete once again.

Tormenting questions swirled in his mind. Why did she call for Sameshita? Did she use magic? If so, why? Yearning for a return to Argan? The relentless queries hammered at his sanity, threatening to consume him whole.

A gnawing insecurity, a constant reminder that Elise remained beyond his complete grasp, had always shadowed Rezette’s happiness. He’d try to silence it, but Elise, it seemed, held the power to resurrect it, exposing his vulnerability and shattering his illusions of control.

Driven by this relentless need for certainty, Rezette stormed up the remaining stairs. A glimpse of a skirt through the slightly open door sent him bursting in.

“Oh!” Elise yelped, startled, almost tumbling back with the force of the door.

The initial shock was quickly followed by a wave of relief so profound it felt like the world was rushing in to meet her. Whether it was the unexpected sound or the sudden comfort, when Rezette’s eyes met hers, she found herself instinctively reaching out for him.

He held her tightly, the embrace lingering long after his initial urgency subsided. When he finally stepped back, a sense of shame washed over him. He realized he’d clung to her for days, searching for answers with a desperation that bordered on obsession.

Something had shifted that day. Unlike her usual resistance, Elise seemed to welcome the closeness. Her arms tightened around his neck, her breath hitching as her chest rose and fell rapidly. Even amidst her obvious discomfort and flustered blush, Rezette remained oblivious. She murmured a plea for gentleness, but made no move to break the contact.

Only later, as he pieced together her tearful reaction at the climax, did Rezette understand that her distress stemmed from his own overwhelming possessiveness, not of her own pleasure.

The warmth of her embrace and the soft sounds of her sleep deepened the fog in Rezette’s mind. It was like being enveloped in a fragrant flower bed, intoxicated by the sweet perfume.  If only he could bottle this feeling and live in it forever.

Had he been more clear headed, he might have noticed the shift in her behavior.  After reveling in the comfort of her presence, a long-dormant desire resurfaced, pulling him under its spell. When the blissful moment finally passed, the woman nestled beside him spoke softly.

“Sleep well, Rezette.”  Her touch, as she lightly brushed his chest, was feather-light, a mother soothing a restless child. Her murmured words about hoping his fatigue would lessen were like a comforting lullaby.

Rezette inhaled her calming scent deeply and mumbled in response. “Stay inside the castle for the next few days, Elise.”

Elise, though she could have questioned his sudden request, simply nodded. “Alright.”

That was all it took.  A touch, a whisper, and his anxieties dissolved, as if by magic. This beautiful woman was still here. Even if Sameshita reappeared, she was his, and nothing could change that.

A wave of contentment washed over Rezette, a feeling akin to the yearning of his naive youth. He recognized it a moment too late, a bittersweet echo of a time before burdens and responsibilities.

Back then, the simplest things held boundless joy – a sliver of sunlight, a cherished toy, or the company of Galeus, the only human who visited him regularly. Each day felt like a gift, overflowing with innocent happiness.

As he held the woman close and drifted towards sleep, Rezette experienced a sense of fulfillment he thought forever out of reach. The self-doubt that usually gnawed at him was strangely absent, replaced by a quiet serenity.

“…I love you…”

He drifted off, never imagining that her whispered words, spoken amidst the night’s contentment, would become a cruel reminder of her absence.

***

A few hours later, Rezette stirred awake. He instinctively reached out, only to find the space beside him empty. A primal instinct flared within him, a sense of something wrong.

Unlike their usual routine, Elise wasn’t there. He threw back the covers, a growing unease settling in his stomach.

The expected knock from the maid, who should have returned by now, remained unnervingly silent.

The sweetness that lingered from the night, a faint echo on his tongue, was abruptly gone. Now, only a chilling emptiness remained.

Elise, who usually enjoyed a quiet top floor with only one maid, was nowhere to be found. Her maid hadn’t responded to Rezette’s calls either.

A thought flickered in his mind. Perhaps she’s taking a bath? When Elise felt drained, she sometimes retreated to a cleansing soak, her voice barely a whisper when she requested it.

Rezette didn’t always rush to fulfill those requests. He found her disheveled state, marked by sweat and exertion, oddly arousing. He’d delay, holding her close until her exhaustion outweighed her desire for the bath. Yesterday had been different, he’d stayed by her side, forgoing the usual routine.

“I need to wash…” she’d murmured.

“Later,” he’d replied, “when you wake up. Just a little while longer.”

“…Very well,” she’d sighed, her voice tinged with resignation. “As you wish.”

The afterglow of intimacy lingered as Rezette held the woman close. The night blurred into a memory – the sweet fragrance of a flower mingling with the remnants of their exertion. Exhaustion finally claimed him, and sleep came quickly.

It wasn’t surprising, then, that Elise might be awake before him, seeking a soothing bath. A pang of concern shot through Rezette.  Baths were a regular part of Elise’s routine, changing into fresh clothes before sleep. 

Rezette hastily threw on his robe and rushed to the adjoining bathroom.  “Elise?” he called out, flinging open the door.

But instead of steam and the gentle sounds of splashing water, the room was bone dry.  The grand bathtub sat empty, its polished surface reflecting a chilling emptiness.  Back in the bedroom, the expansive living area wore a veil of silence.  The silver-haired woman was absent; no sign of her graced the sofa, the table, not even the armchair by the fireplace.

A cold dread clenched Rezette’s heart. Gone. But where? And why would she vanish without a word? Unease twisted in his gut, the silence heavy with unanswered questions.