Chapter 115

Elise’s beauty captivated even the most reserved men. Unlike Rezette, with his patience and self-control, ordinary men would surely fall hopelessly in love after just one of her clear, innocent glances.

Who could resist such an astonishingly beautiful face? And there wasn’t just one, but three?

No, including the being clinging to Elise, Sameshita, there were four. The more Rezette considered this unsettling scene, the more incredulous he became. He cursed fiercely under his breath.

“Damn it, she still doesn’t have an ounce of caution,” he growled.

The fact that she wasn’t alone shattered his composure. The woman he had meticulously claimed as his own was sharing the same space, breathing the same air, listening to, and perhaps even smiling at another man.

The fear that her fragile body might fall ill or collapse, and someone else would take his place by her side, ignited a different kind of emotion within him. It was a darker, more insidious displeasure, unlike anything he’d felt since learning of Barnon Conrad’s existence.

In short, Rezette was consumed by a possessive rage.

Elise undeniably knew how to push his buttons. She understood precisely what to do to ignite his anxiety and irritability. And now that she had embarked on her own path, this was just the beginning.

Ruben, ever cautious around his increasingly erratic lord, cleared his throat nervously. “Ahem, did she by any chance mention where she was headed?” he ventured.

“Not directly,” the old man wheezed. “But while packing that day, I distinctly heard the youngest of the mercenaries mention Norella.”

“Precisely, Your Majesty,” Ruben interjected, seizing the opportunity. “Norella aligns perfectly with the information our surveillance team sent regarding Duke Barnon Conrad’s movements yesterday.”

Rezette’s premonition, both about Elise seeking passage by sea and Barnon Conrad facilitating her escape to eastern Norella, appeared eerily accurate. Ruben held his breath, gauging his lord’s reaction.

“Two routes connect Koseratie to Norella. Should we split our forces to track her more efficiently?” Ruben suggested.

Rezette paused, the silence thick with tension. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

Spooking Elise with an overt pursuit might send her fleeing into some remote, unreachable corner. He wasn’t sure what magic she possessed, nor the extent of its power.

The pursuit, therefore, needed to be subtle, powerful, yet maintain an element of surprise. Rezette took a deep breath, attempting to quell the churning turmoil within him.

Assuming she’d left Koseratie two days ago, Elise would likely reach Norella in three or four. He took solace in having dispatched a messenger to the capital beforehand. By now, the fastest courier should be nearing the imperial city of Opel.

The Emperor’s fury was a given, but Rezette doubted he could refuse his proposition. Within the next few days, the entire Van Yela region, including Norella, would be under his control. Ideally, before Elise even set foot in the city.

The tension slowly bled from Rezette’s face, his tightly pressed lips relaxing.

“…Indeed,” he murmured, a hint of strategy forming. “A warm city is a far better setting for a reunion than the harsh mountain trails.”

Rezette had decided. He would wait for her in Norella.

***

Meanwhile, in the opulent heart of Van Yela, the capital city of Opel, Noyer seethed.

“Fled? She fled?!” he roared, the message from his younger brother crumpling in his grasp. Every word, from the beginning to the end, had stoked his outrage. Yet, the first sentence landed the heaviest blow: The princess had vanished, pregnant no less!

“From Rotiara!” Noyer exploded, unable to fathom how Rezette could have let such a prize slip through his grasp. Especially a pregnant one!

“Rezette Kyrstan,” he thundered, addressing the absent duke, “I did not raise you to be such a witless oaf! Am I right, Baron Zenoar?”

The assembled advisors, who had wisely kept their silence while gauging the emperor’s reaction, exchanged wary glances. Noyer’s parenting skills were notoriously lacking, relying heavily on appeasement and indulgence rather than actual discipline.

Unfazed by their discreet chin-scratching and feigned absorption in other matters, Noyer continued to rant, on the precipice of a full-blown tantrum.

The princess conceived the dragonborn around late winter or early spring, making her near full term by October. A heavily pregnant woman had eluded Rezette’s pursuit?

Given his brother’s request for the royal family’s cooperation, it was clear they were clueless about her whereabouts. This implied Elise’s reach extended beyond Rotiara, encompassing all of Van Yela. It was infuriating.

How lenient could you have been? Noyer raged internally. Rezette, that dolt! How comfortably must that cunning woman have lived to even contemplate escape? He should’ve known better, coddling her while poor Genovia was run ragged!

Love, they say, blinds one to idiocy, but Noyer never imagined it would afflict his own half-brother. And what of this insolent message? If Elise wasn’t found within two weeks, Rezette threatened unilateral action. Did he plan to violate their brotherly nation’s borders and spark a war?

Unfortunately, knowing Rezette Kyrstan, a man prone to erratic episodes and occasional bouts of madness, such drastic action wasn’t entirely out of the question.

Noyer’s internal monologue crackled with self-recrimination. Over twenty years of pampering, he fumed, and this is what I get? He pathetically loses a heavily pregnant woman and expects me to find her in two weeks? That infuriating bastard!

“Lost her pathetically due to his carelessness,” he roared, “and now he expects me to find her in two weeks? That arrogant—”

Perhaps anticipating his brother’s fiery response, Rezette had included an enticing caveat: ‘If she’s found within two weeks, the child goes to Irrien.’ This was a calculated jab at the Emperor’s ruthlessly rejected imperial command two months prior.

Noyer gulped down some cold water, forcing himself to strategize. Regardless, finding the princess was paramount. If she reached Argan and gave birth, their precious dragonborn heir would be lost to the south. They couldn’t allow that!

“Issue a nationwide warrant immediately,” he commanded, his voice firm. “All of Van Yela, including Norella. A young woman with striking silver hair and golden eyes, especially if heavily pregnant – apprehend her at all costs! The mother must be unharmed, and the unborn child is to be brought back safely, not a single hair touched.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” came the prompt reply.

“And expedite a messenger to the Irrien household in Norella. Inform them directly and instruct them to seal the harbor. If she escapes by sea, pursuit will be far more difficult!”

Unlike its mountainous northern neighbors, Van Yela lacked a strong naval presence due to its geographical makeup. This meant any escape by sea would be a significant challenge to pursue.

Duke Irrien, also deeply interested in the child the princess carried, wouldn’t dare refuse Noyer’s request for cooperation. The princess wouldn’t slip through Norella’s harbor unnoticed.

“Go now!” Noyer bellowed at the secretary frantically scribbling down the imperial order. “Immediately!”

Without delay, a new messenger sprinted at full speed towards the eastern coast.

***

The carriage wheels rattled with a violence that threatened to tear them from their axles. As the road climbed ever steeper, Elise’s color drained, a cold sweat forming on her brow. Nausea churned in her stomach, threatening to spill forth with each jarring bump.

The carriage, which had left at dawn, finally reached a stopping point under the midday sun. Taking advantage of the respite from the biting wind, Elise emerged and leaned against the carriage wall, head bowed. Swallowing back a wave of nausea, a sense of dread settled upon her.

This is bad… This wasn’t her first carriage journey, but the nausea and headache were unlike anything she’d experienced before.

As she took deep breaths to calm her stomach, a leather canteen was held out in front of her. Elise accepted the canteen with a weak nod. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” replied a girl with short, boyish hair and tanned skin. Luisa, the youngest member of their mercenary escort on this eastward journey, kept a watchful eye on Elise as she drank.

“How about some food? You missed breakfast.” Luisa retrieved the canteen as Elise finished and offered a rough meal instead: a piece of stale bread split in half and stuffed with a cheap sausage.

The pungent scent of the meat, heavily laced with pepper, sent another wave of nausea rolling through Elise. Lacking the energy to protest, she simply shook her head, weakly covering her nose and mouth with the back of her hand.

“Doesn’t seem like you have much of an appetite. There’s a village with a healer on the way to Norella. Should we make a quick stop?” Luisa inquired, her gaze filled with concern.

“Thank you for your worry, truly,” Elise responded, her voice barely above a whisper. Avoiding Luisa’s eyes, she pretended to wipe her lips and burrowed deeper into her oversized cloak.

Her hair was hidden under a headscarf, and the hood pulled low further obscured her features. While no one would see her face unless they deliberately exposed it, the close proximity to others still made her uneasy.

Three days had passed since she’d started traveling with four mercenaries from the “Black Mane,” a small group known for roaming southern Van Yela and taking on odd jobs. The group, comprised of three men and this one young woman, were a boisterous bunch. Their curiosity about the two women hiring guards for such a long journey was quite evident.