Chapter 124

Elise’s gaze hardened to the consistency of flint. She looked back at Genovia, her words as sharp as a dagger. “So, what are you going to do with me now?”

Genovia’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

Elise’s voice was laced with a hint of defiance. “Where do you plan on sending me? To the Imperial Palace of Van Yela? Or will you hand me over to the Grand Duke?”

Carrying a child meant that her body was no longer just her own. The memory of her failed attempt to cast an offensive spell on herself as they passed through the walls of Norella sent a shiver down her spine. If Sameshita hadn’t intervened, both their lives would have ended right there.

To protect the child, she could no longer recklessly push herself like before, ignoring the consequences and enduring the pain in silence. But the situation was far from ideal. She felt like she was surrounded by a pack of wolves, predators lurking everywhere, ready to pounce the moment she let her guard down.

A flicker of dread ignited within her. Rezette is here right now.

The knights of Rotiara were still out in the streets, searching for her. Breaking through that search net and finding Barnon at the port would require Genovia’s cooperation.

Elise’s voice was as steady as a rock, her gaze unwavering. “You once offered me a deal,” she began. “You said if I promised to give you the child I would bear, you’d send me to Argan. To be clear, I had no intention of agreeing to that deal then, and I don’t now. I’m not like the Grand Duke.”

Genovia’s eyes narrowed. “So?”

Elise’s voice held a note of challenge. “Instead, why don’t you offer me another condition? Something else you want from me.”

Genovia stared at Elise for a long moment, her expression slowly softening. A radiant smile bloomed on her face, like a flower opening to the sun. “No, this is more than enough.”

“What is?” Elise asked, her confusion growing.

“That look in your eyes, your resolve. That alone is worth far more than any price.”

As if to prove she wasn’t lying, Genovia’s face was alight with a near-euphoric satisfaction. “You see, there wasn’t any special reason for bringing you to my estate. Yes, I’d like to have the strong dragonborn child you’ll bear, and it’s true I covet the blessed blood of Rotiara. But my ultimate goal is simple—I don’t want you to give your heart to the Grand Duke.”

Elise frowned. “That sounds… odd, Lady Genovia. What value does my heart have to you? Just because I don’t love him doesn’t mean I’d ever love you…”

Genovia scoffed as if the idea was absurd. “Who said I wanted you to love me? What I need is your heart that doesn’t love Rezette Kyrstan, Your Highness. In fact, it would be even better if you resented and despised him.”

“And why is that?” Elise asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Because that will be the only weapon capable of destroying him.”

The only weapon that could bring down a man who had never known defeat. The only method to throw him into a living hell. Genovia had finally found the path forward. At last!

Elise glanced at Genovia’s face, which was practically glowing with delight, and muttered uncomfortably, “You always say such difficult things, my lady.”

“You don’t need to understand, naive princess,” Genovia replied, her voice filled with a strange intensity. “Just run with all your might. Don’t let your heart weaken just because he’s the father of your child. Don’t look back. Leave behind all regrets and hesitation.”

Elise remained silent, her expression a mix of confusion and determination.

“Fly away, forever,” Genovia urged, her voice filled with a strange intensity.

A dark thought crossed Genovia’s mind. If Elise were to die miserably somewhere with her child, nothing would torment Rezette Kyrstan more than that. But she couldn’t bring herself to say those words.

Elise gently placed a hand on her stomach and smiled softly. “Alright, fine. I’ll do as you say. I’ll fly high, as far as I can.”

Elise then turned her head toward the window. The red hues of the setting sun slid along her forehead, cheeks, and delicate neckline. For a while, she stood there bathed in sunlight, her gaze slowly dropping. Her beautiful profile, now devoid of despair, glowed with a noble brilliance, like a scene from a divine painting.

And so, she couldn’t find the words to say. It was strangely unsettling.

After exchanging a few more words with Elise, Genovia left the secret room. She immediately summoned her servant and issued orders.

“Go out at once and discreetly find out what ‘Ricardo’s Mast’ means,” she instructed. “It seems like some sort of sailor’s slang. If anyone by the name of Ricardo is found, bring him to me.”

“Yes, my lady,” the servant replied.

“And tell them to postpone the departure of all trade ships bound for the South indefinitely,” Genovia continued. “The ships will remain at the harbor until further notice.”

As much as she wanted to put Elise on a ship right away, doing so in her current state would be nothing short of suicide. Genovia couldn’t help but sneer at the woman she had just left behind.

She can’t even take care of herself, and she thinks she’s fit to be a mother?

Yet, despite her sarcasm, she couldn’t shake the unease in her chest—especially after seeing that expression.

Genovia clicked her tongue, shifting her thoughts.

Still, if I go against the Grand Duke’s will again, I won’t escape death this time, she thought.

As reckless as she was, even Genovia didn’t want to risk her life again like before. She could still taste the blood in her throat from when she had nearly lost her life at the hands of that demon.

Perhaps I should just feign ignorance…

Genovia had hidden Elise in the farthest part of the mansion, in a secluded annex behind the greenhouse. Genovia’s own bedroom was there, and in a secret chamber connected to the room, Elise lay resting. It was a space Genovia had often used to meet her lover in secret, out of the Grand Duke’s sight.

Not even Rezette Kyrstan would think to search a noble lady’s private quarters, especially not the bedroom of an unmarried aristocrat. But that alone wasn’t enough to give her peace of mind.

“Wrap the entrance to the secret room with thornvine, two or three layers thick,” Genovia ordered her servant. “No one enters except those I permit.”

Thornvine—the only plant known for its ability to block magic. Genovia didn’t know how effective it would be, but it would buy her some time.

However, the storm arrived far sooner than she anticipated. The swirling clouds of darkness descended on the mansion just as they had finished their late dinner. A servant, pale as a ghost, burst into the dining room.

“Lady Genovia, the Grand Duke Kyrstan has returned! He’s already passed through the main hall… and is heading straight toward your chambers!”

***

Genovia glared at the man standing before her, her displeasure and aggression unmasked. “I don’t understand what sort of rudeness this is,” she retorted, her voice laced with a hint of defiance.

“Do you have any idea what time it is, Duke?” she continued, her tone hardening.

Though it wasn’t the dead of night, it was certainly late enough to make his sudden appearance in her chambers improper. Genovia intentionally widened her eyes, trying to calm her fraying nerves with a haughty display.

How is he here so fast? How did he know to come straight here?

It had barely been a day since she’d hidden Elise in the secret room. Earlier in the day, the princess had woken briefly, shared a few words with Genovia, eaten, taken her medicine, and fallen back into a deep sleep.

And now, right this moment, she lay just beyond the door Genovia stood against.

“What am I to make of a married man barging into the chambers of an unmarried woman at this hour?” she demanded, her voice rising. “Surely you’re not here to propose some scandalous affair with me?”

Rezette Kyrstan ignored her provocations. His eyes were fixed on the thick curtains covering an entire section of the wall behind her.

Genovia’s heart pounded in her chest as she watched Rezette approach the curtains. How does he know there’s a door there? she thought, her mind racing.

The door to the secret chamber was hidden behind those very curtains. Yet, without hesitation, the man had stormed through her chambers as if he knew exactly what was behind Genovia. Even with the door wrapped in thornvine, it was as if he could see right through to the hidden space beyond. A terrifyingly perceptive man.

Rezette undid the string of his heavy cloak and carelessly tossed it aside. The cold weight of his looming threat seemed to hang in the air, ready to crash down on Genovia at any moment.

“If you don’t want me to break down the entrance, step aside, Irrien,” he demanded, his voice low and menacing.

The memory of her throat being crushed in those merciless hands flashed in her mind. No matter how strong her nerves were, her legs shook and cold sweat ran down her back.

The sound from outside probably won’t reach the inside very well.

She couldn’t think of any more ways to buy time. Eventually, Genovia bit back a curse and stepped aside.

With a sharp slicing sound, the crimson velvet curtains were cut clean from top to bottom. The heavy fabric collapsed in a heap, revealing the door to the secret room.

Rezette grabbed the door handle and crushed it easily, as if squeezing fruit. The thornvine wrapped around the door, meant to block magic, snapped one by one under his crushing grip, like threads severed by a beast’s claws.

The once-sturdy door to the secret room swung wide open.

Genovia ground her teeth, her anger a palpable force in the room. “Damn, not even a day!” she hissed.

Summoning her guards, she ordered them to stand guard at the entrance. Regardless, the Grand Duke wouldn’t be able to take the princess away immediately. The snowstorm outside was growing fiercer by the minute. When the bitter winds howled like this, the estate would lock its gates, and all activity would come to a halt.

Neither Rezette nor the princess could leave the place, nor could she escape him. Until the snow ceased, both were effectively trapped here.

Rezette walked through the narrow passage into the secret room.

For a “secret” chamber, the space was anything but modest. It was cozy, luxurious even. There was a bed placed near a locked window, a small side table beside it, and marble sculptures adorning the room, making the interior strikingly elegant. A plush carpet covered the floor, its thick, warm fur giving off an inviting softness.

The canopy of the bed, pressed up against the small window, was fully drawn. Without hesitation, Rezette approached and pulled back the crimson fabric.

The bed was empty.

There were no signs that anyone had been lying there, as if no one had ever occupied the bed to begin with. The pillows were crisp, the blankets neatly tucked. The window, which had been thought to be locked, was open just a crack—enough to let a cold draft into the room, carrying away any scent that might have lingered.

The thornvine that had blocked the entrance to the secret room had nullified all traces of magic.

In short, Rezette could find no evidence that his wife had ever been here.

Had she never been here? Or had she escaped once again?

Or perhaps…

Rezette’s gaze slid down the bed to the floor. The fur of the carpet was pressed unnaturally in certain spots—regular, spaced-out indentations that led somewhere.