Chapter 119

Since when?

The ominous, black clouds engulfing the city were no magic. This was raw, unrefined power, untamed by ritual or spell. It was as if Rezette had expanded the magical system he effortlessly commanded to encompass the entire city.

Elise was acutely aware of the man’s keen perception. He must have undoubtedly sensed the shock that rippled through her when her magic was disrupted by his power. Could it be possible that he could even pinpoint her exact location at this moment? The memory of his instant detection of her presence at the cabin, followed by his cold, ruthless intrusion, was still painfully vivid. Elise’s heart sank.

So, the order for my arrest wasn’t the Emperor’s unilateral decision.

Rezette had reported her escape to the Emperor of Van Yela and, after issuing the arrest order, had taken the initiative to await her arrival at her destination.

You heartless, bloodless man!

The contract was over, and her rational mind should have accepted that the fragile bond they had maintained as a couple was irrevocably severed. Of course, it was clear that what had transpired between them over the past six months was far more than a mere contractual arrangement.

Why was he pursuing her with such deadly intent when he did not even love her? Was it to fulfill his plan of delivering her to the Emperor now that the contract was terminated? Given Rezette’s past possessiveness towards her, that seemed highly improbable.

Then, suddenly, she recalled the words he had uttered in anguish the night before her departure, as he held her tightly after recovering from his episode: “It’s not enough. Damn it…. I should have taken you with me.”

Ah, is it because of his madness…?

The last time they had been intimate, Rezette had undeniably been unlike himself. Ordinarily, no matter how aroused he was, he would not have been so forceful. He would not have sought her out so desperately, like a man consumed by thirst, burying his face in that intimate area…

Perhaps her escape during his most vulnerable state had ignited the flames of his anger. But there was no time for contemplation. If captured now, she would undoubtedly be confined to his bedchamber.

Elise truly never desired to share a bed with him again. If she were to be ensnared by the man and end up in his bed, escape would become virtually impossible.

Her body had become intimately acquainted with Rezette’s touch. The once familiar sensations now throbbed with heightened sensitivity, as if every nerve ending had been amplified. 

When his fingers traced her tongue, a storm of suppressed moans and cries erupted from within her. The climax was a cataclysmic release, a moment of surrender to a force beyond her control. It was a white-hot inferno that consumed her entirely, leaving her breathless and spent.

To her, his embrace was a dual torment: a fiery passion and a suffocating mire. One misstep could plunge her into an abyss of pleasure from which she might never wish to escape.

What truly frightened her was the possibility that her carefully constructed world—her plans, her yearning for her brother, her duty to her people—would evaporate like morning mist under the intense heat of desire. 

Despite Sameshita’s words that her eyes held no regret, Elise was consumed by fear. She was terrified of the depth of her vulnerability to Rezette, petrified that she might once again find herself craving his cruel compassion. To prevent this, she knew she must fortify her heart against him.

Elise urgently rapped on the carriage wall. Luisa leaned in through the window. Elise whispered frantically, “The job’s done. I’ll pay the rest here. Please stop the carriage.”

“Oh, should I?” Luisa replied.

Before Luisa could call for Ted, Elise thrust five gold coins into the girl’s hand and flung open the carriage door. Grabbing Ivetsa, she vanished into the bustling crowd.

“Farewell, madam! Goodness, what’s the rush?”

Luisa, the short-haired girl, watched the two women disappear into the throng. Growing up on rough terrain with a mercenary band had honed her observational skills. She saw the woman in the black cloak cross the street and slip into an alley. Then, disregarding Ted’s puzzled call, she hopped off the donkey and darted away.

A few days ago, a gust of wind had briefly revealed the woman’s face: radiant silver hair and an angelic beauty she’d never forget. A pang of regret struck her. I’m sorry, beautiful lady, she thought. Yet, their brief acquaintance had fostered no deeper connection than greed for quick wealth.

Luisa approached the guard post in the center of Norella. Confidently, she met the guard’s gaze. “I need to report a wanted person. Where should I go?”

***

A most extraordinary scene was unfolding within the heart of Norella, specifically at the Duke of Irrien’s grand mansion. In the snow-kissed fountain garden stood a tall figure cloaked entirely in black, as motionless as a sculpted monument. From the vantage point of the main hall’s gallery, Genovia, the Lady of Irrien, observed him with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.

“Of all the improbable occurrences,” she murmured to herself, “to behold the Lord of Rotiara in Norella.”

Rezette Kyrstan, whom she hadn’t seen in three months, remained as strikingly handsome and imposing as ever, resembling a living masterpiece. Yet, a subtle transformation was evident. His frame appeared more slender, his cheekbones accentuated, and shadows deepened the contours of his eyes, lending him an air of gaunt allure.

His dark hair, tousled and unruly, and the pronounced blue veins on the backs of his hands contributed to the feral aura. While he had always seemed somewhat ethereal, an otherworldly being,  he now exuded a predatory intensity.

A dark cloud, a sinister companion, hovered at his feet. Even the falling snow seemed to avoid him, creating a chilling isolation. Even the falling snow appeared to acknowledge his presence, evading his form as if drawn by an unseen force.

In the stark white expanse of the garden, his figure, cloaked entirely in black, stood out in stark contrast. Genovia found herself involuntarily holding her breath, a delicate plume of white mist escaping her parted lips.

To think that I would find my would-be murderer gracing my front garden with his presence. How truly extraordinary.

As dawn approached, the Grand Duke of Rotiara had made a dramatic and unexpected entry into Norella, bypassing the city gates without warning. His destination was clear: the Duke of Irrien’s mansion. Naturally, the arrival of a man notorious for his cruelty toward Norella’s beloved lady caused a considerable stir among the household. Yet, rather than offering an explanation for his presence, Rezette Kyrstan issued a peremptory demand. Any woman entering Norella under the escort of three or four mercenaries, regardless of her physical appearance, was to be reported immediately.

When the Duke of Irrien protested this unusual request, his face flushing with indignation, the Grand Duke responded with a chilling silence, pressing a sealed document into the Duke’s hands.

Faced with the terms of the contract, the Duke had no recourse but to acquiesce. The document promised a substantial portion of Rotiara’s autumn harvest for the next three years in exchange for his full cooperation. Despite his mounting anger, the Duke was compelled to admit the Grand Duke and his knights into the mansion.

Since that moment, Rezette Kyrstan had remained rooted to the same spot, his body rigid and still. His brow was furrowed in concentration, as if attempting to decipher an invisible force. His gaze wandered aimlessly through the air.

Does he truly believe he can locate the princess in such a manner? Genovia mused silently. She had been informed of Elizabeth’s escape through the emperor’s decree, which had arrived prior to the Grand Duke’s unexpected visit. While the news of Argan’s survival had been a source of relief, her irritation had grown exponentially since the elusive princess had slipped through the emperor’s grasp.

Surely, she would not remain within enemy territory, Genovia reasoned. She had always recognized Elizabeth’s capacity for defiance, but never could she have anticipated such a daring and perilous escape. It was a miracle she had survived the ordeal with her fragile constitution intact.

Perhaps, Genovia thought, the Grand Duke’s evident tension and occasional flashes of anxiety could be attributed to the princess’s disappearance. Never before had she witnessed such vulnerability in him.

A smug smile crept across Genovia’s lips. Do you comprehend now, Grand Duke, the extraordinary lengths to which love can drive a person?

However, the facade of indifference he maintained remained largely intact. Despite the turmoil within, he skillfully concealed his emotions, demonstrating remarkable mental fortitude. It was evident that he would not succumb to despair easily. No, he must suffer more, and for a prolonged period. Only then would the injustice of her near-death experience and the cruel betrayal of her first love be somewhat alleviated.

If only Elise had fled while carrying a child, Genovia mused with a touch of bitterness. She tightened her fur coat and turned to her maid. “Is there any news of the princess?” she inquired.

“No, my lady. We have received no information,” the maid replied.

“I see,” Genovia responded, her voice flat.

In that precise moment, a peculiar occurrence disrupted the tranquility of the snow-covered garden. A fissure appeared in the ground, and the man enveloped in darkness moved with sudden urgency, as if freed from an invisible constraint.