Chapter 107

Rezette clutched his throbbing head, voice hoarse. “Until I left, there was no special news, you were so confident about it. That was just a week ago.”

Freya, oblivious to the storm brewing, chirped, “It was too early then. Even blood tests showed nothing significant. But His Highness ordered a retest a few days ago, and the latest sample just reacted… three, maybe four weeks by my estimation.”

Rezette’s mind reeled. Vivid memories of a few weeks prior flooded back. Counting the days of her solitude, he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment. It had to be around the time she hugged him halfway up the stairs. The day he first glimpsed the raw love and possessive yearning clawing at him from within.

The echo of his own words haunted him. “You just have to want me. Continuously, endlessly.”

The child was conceived at that precise moment, a product of his cruelty masquerading as affection.

A child… Why then?

There was no joy, only a hollow ache where her embrace used to be. Did his words wound her so deeply? Was this cruel punishment for his recklessness? No, Elise was more than that.

“Early pregnancy is notoriously difficult to detect, Your Highness,” Lady Petisson cautiously voiced, sensing Rezette’s silence. “Blaming the doctor won’t help. We need her back immediately. A proper examination for Her Highness is crucial.”

Freya chimed in, her voice trembling. “Absolutely! And Her Highness must rest! Early pregnancy carries a high risk of miscarriage, especially given her current condition. If the baby leeches all her magic, it could be fatal. The first trimester is critical. Even a speck of blood…” Her voice trailed off, heavy with unspoken dread.

Miscarriage. Bleeding. The words echoed in Rezette’s skull. He scrubbed his face with a groan, curses choking in his throat.

No. It couldn’t be so dire. It had to be a mistake. The fetus drew from the mother’s magic, and while Elise wasn’t healthy, her reserves far surpassed any ordinary woman’s. Besides, the child wasn’t visibly developed yet, surely the danger wasn’t so immediate?

But then, shame coiled in his gut as he remembered his treatment of her the previous night. He’d been ruthless. Elise’s face, a flickering white under his relentless assault, now haunted him like a specter.

Elise found herself utterly powerless in his grasp, her screams echoing fruitlessly as she struggled against him. Despite her best efforts, her slender legs convulsed, unable to maintain a firm hold on Rezette’s waist, slipping helplessly. The intensity of their union proved overwhelming, delving too deeply.

Reflecting on the encounter, Elise’s complexion appeared particularly wan. She had occasionally mentioned discomfort, but in the throes of passion, even that was swiftly disregarded. It was a night where Rezette indulged every desire, seeking to delve ever deeper into Elise. He savored the sensation of watching the subtle movements ripple across her delicate, pale abdomen.

Yet, unbeknownst to him, within that slender frame, a new life had begun to take root.

A heavy sigh escaped him. “Oh, damn it.”

The image of Elise, brows furrowed in discomfort, breathless and spent, lingered in his thoughts. While Rezette had longed for her pregnancy, it was always with the assumption that he would be there, by her side. The idea of her carrying their child without him present filled him with a restless unease.

Where should I even begin to search? Should I overturn everything?

These questions swirled in his mind, his anxiety mounting with each passing moment.

Freya, picking up on the tension in the air, blanched.

“Her Highness hasn’t been feeling well recently,” she explained. “It seems these are early pregnancy symptoms. You see, she’s quite sensitive, and with a non-human fetus, the signs can be very different, even manifesting from the very beginning.”

Rezette slammed on the brakes, metaphorically screeching to a halt. “Wait a minute,” he interrupted, eyes darting back to a passage he’d just skimmed. “Did Elise know something was wrong with her body beforehand?”

“Well,” Freya hedged, “Her Highness knows her own body best. She’d been expressing worry for a while.”

“Worry?” Rezette echoed, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes. She never complained outright, but she called me privately, seeming quite distraught.”

“So, she might have known she was pregnant?”

“It’s hard to say. A few days later, morning sickness started, and she seemed relieved. Since then, she hasn’t contacted me again.”

Rezette’s mind reeled. Was it possible Elise knew she was pregnant when she left? The thought was staggering. But even if she didn’t, the doctor’s words—”She seemed to think it fortunate that she wasn’t pregnant”—gnawed at him.

An oppressive silence descended, thick and heavy. Finally, Rezette sighed, a humorless laugh escaping his lips.

“Surely, Elise wouldn’t…” His voice trailed off, a horrifying realization dawning. “Surely, she couldn’t have planned this from the start.”

Seven months had crawled by since that fateful day in mid-February. Elizabeth, shivering in the grip of late winter, had been thrown into the harsh reality of the Van Yela camp. The whole experience felt surreal, like a cruel dream.

The doctor’s advice echoed in Rezette’s ears: “You should sleep regularly like me. Deeply, comfortably.”

Elise’s voice, laced with a heartbreaking longing, cut through his thoughts: “If you had just loved me… Everything would have been fine.”

These conflicting memories gnawed at him. If Elise planned to flee anyway, why the whispered desires, the unspoken intimacy? Did the news of her not being pregnant bring a secret relief? Could it be that despite her outward distress these past months, a part of her was glad they wouldn’t have a child?

Until their arrival in Rotiara, Elise had always readily shared his bed. Even Genovia Irrien, even with her cruel taunts toward Elise, hadn’t shaken Elise’s desire for his closeness. Her whimpers about another woman touching him felt like a lifetime ago.

Perhaps Argan’s survival had shifted her feelings, a possibility that had worried him all along. Her desperate plea, “When will the baby be born?” and her tearful confession, “I want it, your child…” – why these declarations then?

Only one explanation gnawed at Rezette’s sanity – betrayal. She had betrayed him.

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. Regardless of a child, she had always intended to leave by autumn, come what may. She left the contract out in the open… She didn’t fulfill the terms… A horrible truth dawned. She never intended to keep them from the start…?

Fury, a cold, simmering rage, bubbled up from the depths of his heart. His breath hitched, his vision swam with red, and a wave of heat flushed his face as the weight of her betrayal settled in.

Elise, his beguiling yet treacherous wife, had vanished, leaving behind a trail of deceit. Her last words, spoken with those very lips that once whispered endearments, might be her final act of cruelty – a final pity for the husband who’d soon awaken to an empty bed.

When had her escape taken root? Was it after their harrowing journey from the Tene River, or perhaps it had festered even before? Regardless, it was a reckless gamble. Elisabeth Aseica, no matter where she fled, could never truly outrun him. But to leave, especially with a potential heir on board? That was a betrayal that scorched him to his core.

“Search,” he finally commanded, his voice heavy with a chilling finality that sent shivers down spines. “Seal off the borders. With her delicate constitution, she can’t have gone far.”

Rezette’s gaze swept over his assembled knights, his fiery eyes finally landing on Rebecca Petisson. As she met his stare with a tremor in her voice, she realized a dam within him had burst. The fragile control he’d maintained since Elise’s disappearance shattered. She could already feel the coming onslaught of rage, a fury that promised to be even more terrible than before.

“From this moment, the territory is on lockdown. Divide the knights and scour every corner, every conceivable path! No one enters, no one leaves, until she’s found!”

His command left no room for argument. As the knights readied themselves, Rezette’s grip tightened on the crumpled note. With a storm brewing in his eyes, he stalked towards the bedroom – the starting point of his relentless pursuit.