Chapter 125

When Rezette remained still, contrary to expectations, without so much as a twitch, Genovia, who had followed closely behind him, anxiously scanned the interior of the secret room.

She felt a small sigh of relief. Elise had vanished without a trace. It seemed she had wisely hidden herself. But the room was small, and there was no other exit. Unless Elise had jumped out of the window—which was unlikely, given they were on the third floor—she had to be here somewhere. Genovia’s eyes darted nervously around the room.

She must still be here… hiding… she thought.

In that case, the only option was to swiftly get this man to leave.

“Are you satisfied now, Duke?” Genovia asked, her voice sharp, trying to mask her anxiety.

Rezette, who had been staring at the carpet, slowly raised his head at her question. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he spoke.

“If you’ve finished checking, leave now. Or do I need to rush and wake my father at this hour?” she added, trying to sound more assertive.

Rezette’s expression didn’t change. Instead, he replied in a cool, measured tone, “You do know I don’t particularly enjoy repeating myself, don’t you?”

Genovia flinched. To her surprise, he had responded, but it was clear his words weren’t directed at her.

Rezette’s gaze, which had been circling the room, suddenly fixed on one spot. His voice, low and controlled, broke the silence.

“Or maybe you don’t know. I’ve been far too lenient with you all this time.”

Genovia blinked, caught off guard. “Duke, what are you—”

“You seem to keep finding yourself in similar situations,” he interrupted, his tone colder, “perhaps because you still don’t fully understand what I’m capable of doing without hesitation.”

Genovia’s heart raced, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond.

Rezette stepped forward. “Do you really think this is the best course of action?” he asked, his voice almost taunting.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Genovia stammered, struggling to maintain her composure. I can’t let him drag me into this, she thought fiercely, forcing herself to think of a solution.

She squared her shoulders and said firmly, “What you’re looking for isn’t here. So get out of my room. Now.”

Rezette didn’t budge. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “You had the presence of mind to tidy up your bed,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “but you didn’t think to check what’s at your feet, did you?”

Confused, Genovia instinctively glanced down at the carpet beneath her feet. Her breath caught in her throat.

There, imprinted in the soft fabric, were small, reversed footprints. Her face drained of color. The scattered marks, left in haste, abruptly stopped at the edge of the carpet. And directly in front of them stood a large wardrobe. Genovia’s eyes widened in horror.

***

Elise held her breath, clamping a hand tightly over her mouth. From the moment the man barged into the room, she had been suppressing her breathing to the point of dizziness. Curled up even smaller among the clothes, she made herself as inconspicuous as possible. The wardrobe was large and deep enough to easily conceal someone of her size, but that didn’t ease her anxiety.

It was sheer luck that she had been awake. If not, she might have come face-to-face with Rezette, who had nearly pushed aside the canopy in his search. The very thought sent a chill down her spine.

Earlier, after forcing down a bowl of oatmeal and some fruit but still unable to sleep, Elise had been pacing around the room, restless. That’s when she overheard the quarrel outside. Though she couldn’t clearly make out the voices, her instincts screamed that she needed to hide.

Now, squeezed into the wardrobe, the danger of being discovered loomed larger with each passing second. She swallowed nervously. Being in the most secluded place in this enormous mansion also meant that if she were surrounded, there would be no way to escape. Just before Rezette entered, she had hastily tidied the bed and slipped into the wardrobe—but in her rush, the door handle had broken off.

I didn’t even think about the footprints on the carpet… she thought grimly, cursing her carelessness. Had it been too much to hope that I could deceive Rezette’s sharp eyes?

Was she destined to be caught here, helpless, unable to escape from Norella?

No more words could be heard from outside, only the sound of the man’s footsteps echoing in the silence. Fear surged within her.

I shouldn’t have sent Sameshita away like that, Elise thought, anxiety gnawing at her. Until just before coming here, she had vaguely assumed that Rezette was pursuing her out of a sense of betrayal. But now, after realizing she was pregnant, her perspective had shifted entirely.

The child had been conceived before the contract period specified in the agreement had ended, which meant their contract was still in effect. So maybe this man isn’t chasing after me, she mused, but after the child inside me. The thought sent a shiver down her spine; he wanted to claim ownership of a child who held boundless value, unlike Elise herself.

Hadn’t it even been clearly stated in the contract?

[On the condition that you successfully conceive and give birth, the child will bear the name of Kyrstan. Your Highness the Princess will have no claim to any parental rights regarding the child. Do you agree?]

Elise’s voice echoed in her mind, a haunting reminder of the cold terms she had accepted. She had willingly spoken those words of agreement, meaning she would have no rights whatsoever over her own child. The weight of the world seemed to crush her as despair settled in her chest.

“If you won’t come out, I’ll find you myself,” Rezette’s voice echoed, utterly devoid of warmth and tinged with cold professionalism. Elise’s suspicions solidified further at the sound.

She knew it was useless, yet she pressed her back against the corner of the wardrobe, her heart racing. Just last night, she had resolved to be strong and protect the child. But the presence of Rezette Kyrstan was overwhelming, eclipsing even her determination.

Though he was, as Genovia had said, the father of the child she carried, he was no different from the countless other thieves waiting for the opportunity to snatch the child away.

No. Please go away. Just walk past and pretend you don’t know, she silently pleaded. But her desperate prayer was betrayed by the sound of footsteps drawing nearer.

Just as the tension mounted and a familiar ache began to throb in her lower abdomen again, Genovia’s voice cut through the air, suddenly quiet and cold. “She’s in pain,” she said, as if she had sensed Elise’s condition.

“She’s in a lot of pain. Your wife,” Genovia added, her tone sharp.

Rezette continued his search through the wardrobe, tearing it apart with ruthless efficiency, ignoring Genovia’s words entirely. His icy gaze didn’t stray toward her even once.

Genovia, feeling the urgency of the moment, shouted, her anxiety barely contained. “It’s clear that the esteemed Duke already knows everything, so there’s no point in running anymore. I understand you’re angry, but don’t scare a sick woman like this. Do you hear me?”

There was silence in response.

“If things had gone slightly wrong, it could’ve been over before we even made it here,” she continued, her voice firm, desperate to defend Elise.

That was the best defense Genovia could muster in the current situation. Rezette Kyrstan had always been extraordinarily particular when it came to his wife’s safety. He was the type who wouldn’t allow her to climb even a few steps without his watchful eye.

But this time, it felt different.

“She’s in pain,” Genovia reminded him, her tone softening.

After mulling over her words, the man finally let out a cold, bitter laugh. “Not the first time. Hardly surprising.”

It wasn’t just Genovia, but also Elise, curled up in the pitch-black darkness, who widened her eyes slightly.

As a child in Argan, she had occasionally overheard similar comments.

“Her Highness has collapsed again? That’s the third time just this week…” 

“Well, it’s nothing new. She’s always been like that. It’s not the first time, and no one’s surprised anymore. Everyone’s gotten used to it.”

But Elise had never heard such words come from Rezette’s mouth before.

The unexpected sting in her chest felt like being pricked by a needle. She hadn’t expected affection from a husband who had been inconvenienced by her many times…

Yet, the icy derision in his curt voice left Elise feeling utterly small. The man who once worriedly followed her every step with his eyes was gone. Just as her first love had come to an end, his tenderness had also evaporated, like a fleeting illusion.

The merciless sound of his footsteps grew closer, echoing with determined purpose, like a predator closing in on its prey, leaving her no time to brace herself. He stormed toward the wardrobe and flung its door open with a forceful swing.

Above Elise’s head, the flickering light of a candle swayed, casting dancing shadows around her. She couldn’t muster the courage to raise her gaze. Maybe, just maybe, the layers of gowns will hide her from view, she thought desperately.

But even in the darkness, the oppressive weight of his presence sliced through the air like a knife aimed straight at her throat, snuffing out the last glimmer of hope. The dresses hanging inside the wardrobe were roughly pushed aside, creating an unpleasant rustling sound. At last, bright light slashed through, cutting across Elise’s face.

From her crouched position, all she could see at first were a pair of feet. An unbearable, dreadful silence enveloped her, stretching into what felt like an eternity.

But the standoff shattered when the man leaned forward, pressing a hand against the inner wall of the wardrobe. His rough voice fell over Elise like a blow to the top of her head. “Come here.”

Though his words were clipped and commanding, it was Rezette’s hand that moved first. He wrapped his arm around her lower back, half-forcing her into the light. With a rough motion, he lifted her bowed head until she was staring up at him, their eyes locking in a tense confrontation.

As soon as Elise saw the man’s Adam’s apple move, she squeezed her eyes shut. She refused to face him and confront the reality that everything had fallen apart.

A hot, chastising hand touched her cheek. After confirming her body temperature and feeling her faint breath on his fingertips, he scooped her up without hesitation. His lips brushed the hollow of her collarbone, sinking deeply into her skin.

It was an impatient gesture, like someone parched and desperate for a drink.