Chapter 120

Rezette tilted his chin skyward, his gaze fixed intently on a point in the western horizon. There, something in the air had caught his attention.

Just moments ago, the magical net he had cast out had vibrated, its disturbance emanating from a nearby western location. Through his heightened senses, a subtle scent of life wafted towards him. A surge of exhilaration ignited in his piercing blue eyes, and with a powerful thrust, he propelled himself from the ground.

Genovia, who had been observing him, shuddered as a cold shiver ran down her spine. He’s found her! The monstrous man had finally tracked down his escaped wife.

Almost concurrently, a figure burst into the corridor. It was one of the informants Genovia had strategically placed among the guards of Norella. “Lady, we have just received a report that the fugitive was sighted a short time ago!” The tension etched on Genovia’s face instantly transformed

***

Elise was being chased. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things had spiraled out of control. The small clinic run by Doctor Harrison was closed, as she’d expected. Clutching the still-unconscious Ivetsa, Elise stared blankly at the locked door before snapping out of it. The snowfall intensified.

I can’t stay here, she thought. I’ll find an inn for now and search for the clinic later. She planned to hide for a few days until Ivetsa recovered, then track down the clue about “Ricardo’s Mast” that Barnon had sent via carrier pigeon.

Just as she made up her mind, a commotion erupted on the street. Elise’s eyes widened as she spotted knights scouring the square she’d just passed through. If her vision wasn’t blurred by panic, the armor and emblem on their chests were unmistakably Rotiara’s. She even recognized a familiar face among them—Lord Ruben.

Realizing how close her pursuers were, Elise frantically searched for a hiding place. Biting her lip, she dragged Ivetsa into a nearby barn. The clang of armor echoed ominously down the alley. Moving an unconscious woman any further was nearly impossible.

Exhaustion, building since she’d passed through the castle gates, was now at its breaking point. Her stomach twisted in agonizing knots from extreme tension.

If I pass out here, it’s over, she thought. Desperation fueled her actions as she shook Ivetsa’s shoulder. “Ivetsa,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “Please, open your eyes.” Ivetsa’s breathing was shallow, her eyelids stubbornly closed. The chilling fear of losing her friend in this cold gripped Elise’s heart.

I promised to protect you, no matter what…

She’d promised to protect her, no matter what. But a stark choice loomed: abandon Ivetsa to save herself or stay and risk capture. Clutching Ivetsa’s sleeve, her breath visible in the frigid air, she knew her answer. I can’t let her die here.

As the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, despair washed over her. What would happen if they caught her? Perhaps begging and pleading as before might earn Rezette’s forgiveness. There would be another chance, but she’d need to be stronger. How would she contact Barnon with Norella under Rezette’s control? And if her magic was truly gone, how would she reach Andrei? Her thoughts were a tangled mess. 

Tears streamed down her pale cheeks as the barn door shattered with a violent crack.

A large figure lunged, seizing Elise from behind. Before she could react, a rough cloth muffled her cries as it was pulled over her head, plunging her into darkness.

“Shh,” a cold voice hissed in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. The voice was unfamiliar.

“Wh-Who…” she stammered, fear constricting her throat.

“Don’t scream and do as I say,” the voice warned. “Unless you’d rather be handed over to the Duke.”

A rough hand clamped over her mouth as her wrists were cruelly bound with stiff leather straps, making it impossible to breathe. Terror paralyzed her, clawing at her sanity. This was no one Rezette would send. He might be angry, but this brutality was beyond his methods. Could it be someone from the Emperor’s side?

Suddenly, her weightless body was lifted into the air. Her thoughts were abruptly cut off. Elise had been kidnapped by an unknown assailant.

***

To her astonishment, Elise remained conscious. Her mind teetered on the brink of oblivion but refused to yield. She had a vague sense of time and distance, but the overwhelming fear clouded her memory. Each time her feet faltered, unable to keep pace with her captors, a rough yank restored her balance.

Gradually, a shift in atmosphere became apparent. The biting winter air, sharp enough to sting her lungs, softened into a milder warmth. When their journey finally ended, the warmth had thawed her frozen feet, leaving them damp and cold. The unforgiving marble beneath her had given way to a soft, yielding carpet.

After what felt like an eternity of brutal treatment, Elise was unceremoniously dumped into a peaceful room, filled with the comforting crackle of a fireplace.

“Leave her and get out,” a cold, indifferent voice commanded, as if addressing an inanimate object. The voice was hoarse, yet undeniably familiar.

“Oh dear, I forgot to tell them to be gentle,” the voice added, a touch of sarcasm lacing the tone.

A wave of despair washed over Elise. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the desperate sobs threatening to escape.

“Everyone, leave.” The voice ordered, and a rustling sound indicated the person’s rise. With a rough tug, the cloth was removed, revealing her tear-stained, disheveled face. At last, she saw her captor.

“I’m so glad I found you first. Are you happy to see me, Elise?”

The woman scrutinizing her with the detached gaze of a collector appraising a rare artifact was none other than Genovia Irrien—Norella’s beloved socialite and the mistress of this opulent abode. Genovia tilted her head, her eyes taking in Elise’s pallid complexion.

“You’ve had a rough two weeks, it seems,” she said. “Your face is quite a sight.”

Elise’s voice cracked as she attempted a reply. “That’s something I should be saying to you, Lady Genovia.”

Indeed, Genovia was far from unscathed. Her neck was swathed in bandages, and dark bruises marred her skin. Despite the warm room, her voice was strained. Clad in elegant silk loungewear, with golden hair cascading over one shoulder, she offered a wan smile.

“Your husband’s handiwork. How does it feel, Your Highness? Satisfying?”

“What are you talking about?” Elise replied, bewildered.

“The Grand Duke reduced me to this because of a few sharp words from your tongue. It was the night you ran away. He strangled me and threw me from a carriage, Princess.”

Elise muttered, “He probably had his reasons.”

Genovia’s eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. “Did I hear that correctly?”

“You reap what you sow. Why blame me for your actions?” Elise retorted.

Genovia laughed, her tone laced with amusement rather than anger. In fact, she seemed oddly cheerful. “Our dear Grand Duchess seems oblivious to the situation. You should be groveling at my feet.”

“Enough pleasantries. Get up, Elise. This isn’t becoming of someone in your position,” Genovia declared, her tone impatient. When Elise remained seated, Genovia clicked her tongue in disapproval and hauled her to her feet. “Tsk, you haven’t improved at all, have you?”

Leaning heavily on Genovia, Elise managed to slump onto the sofa. A throbbing pain pulsed in her head, intensifying her dizziness. Genovia sat across from her, showing no inclination to release Elise’s bound hands. With her magic rendered useless, Elise’s defenses were down.

Her gaze fell upon the ornate, gold-trimmed table. A teacup and a tray of refreshments were set out, though she doubted they were intended for her consumption. Genovia offered the tea with a false show of generosity. “Have some tea. Your hands are frozen.”

Elise’s voice held a bitter edge. “Don’t pretend to care. If you were truly concerned, you would have shown some courtesy.” She refused to let her weakness show. This woman would not see her crumble.