Chapter 177

The cooperation of that man was indispensable. Without him, nothing could be done.

Barnon’s voice carried a force that would not bend.

“This time, His Majesty has words he wished me to convey to you. There is something he ordered me to bring back as well.”

“From me?”

“Your blood, my lord.”

The blood of a dragon-blooded man. Or, more precisely, the blood of the one who stood closest to a dragon among all the humans of this land. Nothing more, nothing less—a single drop would suffice.

Interest glimmered in Rezette’s blue eyes.

***

The next day, after Barnon’s departure, dawn rose beneath an unusually large full moon.

Elise gazed down the cliffside with frightened eyes.

“I never knew there was a place like this on the other side of the cliff.”

They were standing at the crest of a great waterfall.

The scenery here was striking—wild and pristine. Rezette had suggested they take a short excursion, just the two of them, and she had agreed, curious to see what lay beyond.

They had traveled far, leaving both the Argan encampment and the fortress of Riosa high above the ravine far behind them. Rezette had carried her easily across the jagged terrain, leaping from ridge to ridge with inhuman agility. The shocking part was not his boldness in leaping but how little she felt of the impact—his strength was such that even a plunge across a gorge landed with barely a tremor through his body.

Now, in his arms, Elise risked leaning slightly forward to peer over the cliff’s edge. From the lip of the falls, thick mist rose, silvering in the moonlight.

The drop was dizzying. She could not even make out the riverbank below through the churning spray. The roar of the water hammering downward filled her ears.

“So high…”

“Are you afraid?”

“No! Not at all!”

Brave words—but she clung to him so tightly it was as though she meant to choke the breath from his throat. She swallowed once, hard, and held her breath, unable to release it.

She was afraid.

Rezette had considered setting her down on the jutting rock ledge that protruded from the cliffside, but thought better of it. Instead, he carried her to where a flat stone lay half-hidden in a thicket. Moss grew thick and springy across its surface. There he set her gently down, as though lowering a fragile relic onto velvet.

Elise exhaled in relief. At once she seized his hand and tugged until he sat beside her.

“You were right,” she said. “It really is magnificent. The sound of the waterfall… it’s so refreshing.”

“And the cold? It is dawn.”

“It doesn’t feel so bad. Besides, it’s February already. Spring will come soon.”

Perhaps in the south. In the northern provinces, spring was still a distant dream.

Bundled in cloaks and blankets, Elise’s body rose and fell with each breath. Her breathing was faintly uneven, as though the climb had wearied her. She grimaced suddenly and pressed a hand to her stomach. Rezette’s heart lurched.

“Are you in pain?”

“No, just… startled. The baby keeps moving.”

“Here.”

Rezette immediately drew her against him. He had been cautious, careful not to jostle mother or child—but perhaps even this little outing had been too much.

Truthfully, his purpose had been to give the Arganians space to recover their comrade’s body. He had taken her far from camp to keep her from noticing.

“Shall we go back now?” he asked.

“No. Since we’ve come all this way, let’s stay a little longer. Besides…”

“Besides?”

“I think Cherry is reaching for you.”

She watched him cautiously as she spoke.

Even beneath layers of cloth, the swell of her belly was visible. The child within stirred, insistent. With food—its chosen prey—so near, it clamored hungrily for his strength.

Always Rezette.

Was this how all unborn children behaved? He could not be sure. But every day, he was startled anew by how quickly Cherry grew. It pained him to think of the two months he had lost, when he had not been able to see her belly round or feel the faint kicks.

The miracle of it left him breathless. Yet along with the wonder came a thousand new worries.

“At times,” he murmured, “I want nothing more than to run away with you both. Forget the war. Forget the empire.”

As he often did when doubt unsettled him, Rezette lowered his mouth to her lips, seeking steadiness in her warmth.

He had learned much from shadowing her every step these past weeks. That she felt faint aches whenever the child shifted. That lying flat brought her discomfort after a short while. That she woke often in the night, restless. That her gait had slowed, her strength diminished.

And Cherry—Cherry was no quiet child. Its movements revealed a fierce impatience with the confines of the womb.

A small fist pressed up against his hand, startling him. He drew back from Elise’s lips and looked down.

“No,” he whispered.

Slowly. Kindly. Humanly.

Please, let the child not inherit his monstrous nature. That was the prayer Rezette carried always in his heart.

And one thing more, whispered now with desperate intensity: “Take after your mother.”

From the crown of the head to the tips of the toes, let the child mirror Elise. Let every feature be hers, and none of his. There was not a single part of himself he wished to pass down. Least of all the afflictions, incurable and cruel, that came with his blood.

But Elise protested indignantly. “No, I want the baby to look like you!”

Rezette blinked. “Why? There is nothing beautiful in me.”

“You’re strong.”

“…What?”

“Cherry should be strong. Not frail like me, forever causing worry to those around her.”

“Strong…”

Elise touched his forearm with a gaze full of admiration. How often she had envied the dense muscle, the iron resilience of his body. Wounds that should have crippled him healed within days. He could go without sleep for nights on end without faltering.

“A baby as sturdy as steel would need no protection.”

She continued, “Healthy, full of energy, loving to run and play… perhaps a mischievous little thing. That would make me happy.”

He supposed character might need some choosing. She was too timid. He too merciless. Let the child inherit neither flaw.

“Tell me,” she asked softly, “do you hope Cherry is a girl or a boy?”

It was a question that had lingered in her even before pregnancy.

“With such strong movements, perhaps a boy,” she mused. “But I’m not sure. What do you think?”

Rezette had never once speculated on the matter. Never once dared wish for one or the other. But Elise’s expectant eyes allowed him no escape. He gave a vague reply. 

“As long as the child is born safely, I ask nothing else. Let it not harm its mother. Let it come quickly, quietly.”

“And?” she teased.

“…If I must choose, then a daughter. Perhaps.”

A little Elizabeth would surely be sweeter than a little Rezette.

He avoided thinking of a small version of himself or a small version of her carrying his features.

“Really? Did you hear that, Cherry? Your father hopes for a girl.”

Elise laughed and pressed his hand against her belly.

“Not many days left for us to be just the three of us. I hope you two grow close before then.”

Rezette doubted it. He could not easily imagine this being, this child, settled between them as family. He had never once seen a dragon-blooded man with a wife and child. He had never even heard rumors of such a thing.

Still, if the child grew normally, birth would come in late spring or early summer. June, perhaps. Only four months away. Perhaps fewer, if Cherry insisted on arriving early.

So far, the child had not injured its mother. But who could say what would come? The future was a mire of uncertainties.

What if Elise went into labor while he was away?

Even ordinary women often died in childbirth. Among his own knights were those who had buried both wife and infant.

The thought of such tragedy befalling him made his blood run cold.

“I should never leave your side,” he muttered. “What if something happens while I am gone?”

Perhaps he should take her away now, regardless of emperor or empire. Flee.

Elise’s thoughts ran in the same anxious current.

What if the baby comes when Rezette is not there?