Chapter 149

For the first time in his life, the taste of defeat was so bitter it made him shudder. Overwhelmed by the crushing weight of despair, Rezette closed his eyes. His thoughts unraveled into chaos, a storm he could no longer control.

His voice cracked, raw with anguish. “So tell me, Elise. What do you want me to do?”

She met his gaze, her expression unreadable. “I don’t need anything anymore—”

“Shall I lay the world at your feet?” His voice was a whisper, yet the desperation in it cut through the air like a blade.

Would that be enough to change her mind? Would she choose him then? He didn’t know.

Everything he had so meticulously planned—to destroy her family, to erase her homeland, to sever every path that could lead her back—had collapsed in mere moments. The foundation had been flawed from the start.

The greatest threat to Elise wasn’t the Emperor of Argan, nor his heir, nor any enemy beyond these shores. It was him.

In his current state, he could do nothing for her. More importantly, he shouldn’t. No act born from the mind of a beast could ever keep her safe.

Rezette’s bloodshot eyes lifted, and there, like a cruel illusion, a massive ship loomed before him. The waves crashed violently against the docks.

Splash.

Elise’s voice cut through the roar of the sea, laced with suspicion. “What do you mean by that?” She took a cautious step closer. “What are you planning to do with the world?”

Rezette barely heard her. His pupils trembled as he followed the fluttering sails, his pulse a pounding drum in his ears.

His decision was swift.

He had to let her go.

Even if regret consumed him later, for now—right now—she needed to be beyond his reach.

His body moved before his mind could catch up. There would be no second chance. If he hesitated, if he faltered even for a moment, the next time he came to his senses, he might find her lifeless at his feet.

Rezette lunged forward without warning, his arms locking tightly around her waist. Elise gasped, the clarity in her eyes wavering. Before she could react, his next move shattered her sorrow, replacing it with sheer confusion.

“Your Highness!”

A desperate voice rang out from behind. Only then did Elise realize how close the ship had drawn.

Barnon stood on the outstretched deck, his teeth clenched as he reached for her. Blood streaked down the left side of his face, the wound beneath it hidden but clearly severe.

“Your Highness, hurry—!”

But there was no need for his frantic plea.

The moment the ship’s keel scraped against the shattered ground, Rezette acted. Without hesitation, he lifted Elise and tossed her onto a small balcony protruding from the stern.

She hit the worn railing hard, the impact rattling through her bones. For a brief, terrifying moment, she thought it would give way beneath her. Saltwater sprayed into her face, stinging her eyes, blurring the world around her. When she blinked the water away, reality struck—she had boarded the ship.

“If you leave me now…”

The hoarse murmur reached her ears, low and raw.

Dazed, she looked down.

Rezette stood below, staring up at her. His blue eyes burned—wild, unrelenting—a storm of emotion that threatened to consume them both.

Longing. Guilt. Regret. Madness. Obsession. Impulse.

“…Remember this. The child in your womb is mine.”

Elise inhaled sharply, her pulse pounding in her ears.

“Never forget who planted that life inside you,” Rezette continued, his voice both commanding and desperate. “Who is the only man your body has ever accepted. What mark I have left upon you. Not a single thing—forget none of it, Elise.”

Her lips parted, but no words came.

She couldn’t comprehend what she had just heard. 

Seeing her confusion, Rezette let out a short, unhinged laugh. His expression was wild, unstable—just as unbalanced as she felt.

“Don’t even think about looking at another man,” he warned, his voice low and sharp. “Until I come for you again. Because if you do…” His tone darkened, dripping with possessiveness. “I might just reclaim my throne as your king.”

Elise’s breath hitched. “What are you talking about? Step back! If you get hit by the ship—”

“I swear,” he cut her off, his vow slicing through her protests.

His eyes locked onto hers, unwavering. “Your husband—now, then, and for the rest of your life—will be me alone. No one else.”

A shiver ran through her.

She didn’t need to question if he meant it. She knew.

Her husband, for the rest of her life?

Like it or not, hate him or love him—he was the man who had taken every one of her firsts.

“That’s… an obvious statement—!”

The instant the words left her lips, Rezette moved.

His mouth crashed against hers in a deep, consuming kiss.

Of all the countless kisses they had shared since reuniting, none had ever been like this.

Yet something stirred within her—a strange sense of déjà vu. And then, like a bolt of lightning, the memory struck.

For the first time, Elise recalled the moment she had shared her first kiss with him. That day—on the altar of a wedding built on deception. A ceremony wrapped in falsehoods. The moment they had sworn eternal love before the divine, binding themselves to one another as husband and wife.

A kiss of solemn devotion. A vow of sacred confinement.

And now, as if determined to engrave her taste into his soul, Rezette devoured her. His tongue traced and pressed against hers, sweeping across every corner of her mouth, memorizing her in ways she hadn’t realized were possible.

When he finally pulled away, their lips parted with a sound so intoxicating, it left her reeling.

His blue eyes, still flickering with feverish madness, held nothing but Elise. Though his fingers were rough, they brushed against her cheek with the delicate care one might use to cradle a fragile glass artifact. His lips curled into a faint, strained smile, and in a voice both tender and raw, he murmured,

“I love you.”

Elise’s breath caught. “You…”

“I don’t think I ever said those words.”

His hand, which had just fallen from her pale cheek, drifted lower, coming to rest over her abdomen. The moment his palm met the gentle swell of her stomach, something shifted. His magic, unbidden, seeped into her navel—an instinctive act, as if his very being recognized that sustenance would soon be scarce.

Feeling the faint stirrings of the life within her, Rezette let out a quiet, almost wistful murmur.

“Take care of your mother. Don’t cause trouble.”

His words held a finality that sent a sharp pang through Elise’s chest.

So… he’s really letting me go?

Dazed, she reached out, fingers trembling as they hovered over the back of his hand. But the moment her skin brushed against his—

His warmth vanished.

Slowly—agonizingly so—he turned his head away, severing their connection without a word. It was as if time itself had stretched, prolonging the unbearable moment.

Then, suddenly, the distance between them widened.

Ah…

A gust of wind swept through. The ship’s sails, once taut and facing the harbor, shifted toward the horizon. The vessel, which had narrowly avoided crashing into the dock, began to drift, the current pulling it rapidly away from shore.

Someone seized Elise by the shoulders and pulled her back. Disoriented, she allowed herself to be led through the narrow passage connecting the balcony to the main cabin. Then—

She was enveloped in a tight embrace.

“Elizabeth, come here. Oh, thank the heavens…!”

Barnon’s voice shook with relief.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered, holding her close. “We can go home. Andrei has been waiting for you for so long, Elise. He was beside himself with worry. I can’t tell you how relieved I am…”

Behind her, the cabin door slammed shut with a heavy thud. The sound barely registered before Elise shoved Barnon away, her pulse hammering in her ears.

“Elise—!” he called after her, but she didn’t stop.

She pushed past the crew surrounding her, eyes darting frantically in search of a way to the deck. A crew member, watching her intently, hesitated for only a moment before stepping aside and pulling open the stairwell door.

She didn’t waste a second.

The instant she reached the deck, she ran to the railing and leaned out.

Her breath caught.

The pier was already fading into the distance. Beyond it, the harbor lay in ruins—shattered, as though trampled beneath the foot of a giant.

And there, atop the jagged remains of the collapsed dock, stood Rezette.

Elise’s grip tightened on the railing as she watched him leap down, his right arm grotesquely swollen. With a flick of his wrist, he shook off the remnants of dark magic that slithered like a serpent, dissipating into his skin.

She knew that arm better than anyone—a structure of dense, impenetrable muscle, now torn open, exposing raw, crimson flesh. He flexed his shoulder once, then again, as if testing its functionality. But after a brief moment, he lost interest in the wound altogether.

Elise couldn’t tear her eyes away.

From the man who strode forward without hesitation, unflinching before the dozens of blades pointed at him.

A single nod.

And silence fell.

Then, one by one, some of the knights lowered their swords.

Clang. Clang.

The ones who surrendered—all of them—were knights of Rotiara.

A ripple of unease spread through the imperial forces. Then, through the tense crowd of soldiers, a figure emerged.

The Duke of Irrien.

His aged face was twisted in grief and fury, his eyes burning with loss. Having rushed to the scene upon hearing of his daughter’s tragic demise, he let out a guttural roar and lunged.

His hands seized Rezette by the collar. But Rezette didn’t resist. He stood motionless, letting the older man shake him in rage, his silence speaking louder than any words ever could.

Then, just like that—

He was gone.

Swallowed by the sea of imperial and Irrien soldiers that surged around him.

“No…”

Elise’s whisper dissolved into the cold air like mist, fragile and fleeting.

And yet, with that single breath, understanding struck her—agonizing and absolute.

She pressed her trembling palms against her face, her breath ragged, uneven.

“This isn’t it, you fool…!”

She had finally escaped Van Yela’s lands—just as she had wished.

But at what cost?

To secure her freedom, she had branded the father of her child, the man who had been her husband through all four seasons, as a traitor.

***

The moment Rezette’s boots met the shattered remains of the docks, the waiting soldiers closed in, weapons at the ready.

A knight of the emperor stepped forward, his expression hard, his voice edged with accusation.

“Is this defiance, Your Grace?”

Rezette said nothing.

The knight scoffed, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “I am merely confirming what I saw with my own eyes. You released the princess with your own hands. How are we to interpret this?”

For a moment, Rezette did nothing but cast his gaze skyward, watching the ship disappear beyond the waves. Then, exhaling quietly, he spoke.

“With my own hands… Ah. I see.”

He had let go first.

The realization settled over him like a death sentence, cold and final.

And with it, the crushing weight of reality came crashing down.

What have I done?

A sharp, bitter laugh tore from his throat—dry, humorless, almost deranged.

He had lost his mind. That was the only explanation.

Because what kind of fool let go of the one thing he couldn’t bear to be without?

She was already beyond his reach, and yet, he missed her as if she had been ripped from his very soul. As if the emptiness would consume him before the day was done.

He knew himself. Knew the depth of his obsession, the madness clawing at his ribs.

So there was only one answer.

What else?

I’ll have to bring her back.

Even before the ship carrying Elise had vanished beyond the horizon, Rezette was already plotting how to retrieve her. His mind raced, shifting from the loss of her to the greatest threats she now faced—aside from him. Van Yela, the barbarians of Ugel, and the northern alliance of Grandel, which encompassed them all.

“This is your country,” Elise had said.

And she was right. This land was his world.

Rezette knew all too well how most of the northern territories viewed him. The Emperor’s hound. A prized stallion. A worshiper of Van Yela. He had lived without much complaint under these labels, but now, for the first time, his position felt like a cage—grating, disgusting, even.

Perhaps it was time for a shift.

The knight standing before him, growing increasingly exasperated by the unyielding Grand Duke, finally raised his voice in frustration.

“Defying orders is considered treason! Do you have any idea how many charges are already against you?!”

Rezette met the knight’s furious gaze with an indifference that could have cut through steel.

“However many there are, it seems I’m about to add one more,” he replied coolly.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a furious figure pushed past the soldiers and stormed toward him.

“You wretched, vile creature!” the Duke of Irrien bellowed, his grief stricken with rage. “You murdered my daughter! Do you think I’ll stand idly by after what you did to Genovia?!”

The Duke’s voice trembled with raw fury as he continued, “Where is she? That Arganian witch who killed my daughter!”

At the mention of Genovia’s name, Rezette’s expression hardened in an instant. The man who had quietly allowed the duke to seize him by the collar now reacted with a chilling speed. In one swift motion, Rezette’s hand shot out and seized the duke by the throat, twisting it with a brutality that was almost surgical—effortless, like snapping the neck of a bird.

The duke’s rage faltered in the face of Rezette’s cold fury, his breath strangled in his throat as the life seemed to drain from his face.

“That woman?” Rezette’s voice was ice-cold, his grip tightening around the duke’s throat.

The Duke of Irrien gasped, his words strangled by the pressure. “Guh—kgh…!”

“If you don’t wish to follow your daughter to the grave, I suggest you watch your mouth, Duke,” Rezette said, his tone dangerously low. “Do you have any idea who you’re speaking about?”

The Duke’s face turned purple, his fingers clawing at Rezette’s iron grip in a desperate attempt to breathe.

“Your Grace!” The commanding officer’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding. “Must we truly throw you into a prison cart?! Release him at once!”

Despite the officer’s demand, none of the soldiers dared move. They stood frozen in place, eyes flickering nervously between the Duke and Rezette.

Lightning crackled ominously in the air around Rezette, small flashes of energy sparking with every step he took. Anyone foolish enough to approach would be burned alive in an instant—no different from the unfortunate souls struck by a bolt of lightning.

With a flick of his wrist, Rezette released the Duke, sending him sprawling backward as if he were nothing more than an irritant.

The Duke collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, but Rezette paid him no further attention. His eyes turned inward, the realization settling in with the weight of an avalanche.

It was only natural that Elise could never survive in a country that treated her this way.

The moment that thought struck him, his next move became undeniable.

“I’m going to the capital. I’ll speak to His Majesty myself.”

His words rang with finality, and the soldiers, momentarily stunned, hesitated, unsure of how to respond. No one dared challenge him, not with the crackling energy swirling around him.

A shadow moved in the distance—a massive black stallion galloping toward them, its tail whipping through the air.

Rezette mounted the horse without hesitation, taking the reins in a single, fluid motion. The knights of Rotiara, who had been waiting for his command, immediately followed suit. One by one, they swung onto their horses, the sound of hooves hitting the ground echoing in perfect unison.