Chapter 63

As Rezette ascended to the highest floor, he found Ivetsa and Freya stationed in the living room, their expressions stern and unwavering. A subtle signal passed between them through a silent exchange of glances. Ivetsa, her lips drawn tight, bowed deeply, and her footsteps ceased as she moved away.

The maid who had failed to properly greet her master deserved dismissal, according to tradition. However, this particular maid was the very one Elise had rescued from a perilous tumble out of a careening carriage, sparing her life.

Rezette released a deep sigh and shifted his attention to the bedroom, his heightened senses catching a faint noise. It was not the sound of slumber; was she awake?

Without hesitation, Rezette entered the bedroom.

“Elise.”

The moonlight spilled softly through the uncovered window, casting an ethereal glow upon the motionless figure by the starlit pane. She was already sitting upright, her gaze fixed on the world outside, resembling a statue brought to life.

Their eyes locked, momentarily stealing Rezette’s words.

Silver hair, slightly disheveled, framed a face as delicate as pearls. Her lips, now bearing a touch of color thanks to Ivetsa’s warm towel and the restoration of her body’s warmth, were gently parted.

The air was suffused with the scent of blooming flowers, as if the garden of the night had absorbed the moonlight’s essence.

Elise blinked her large eyes a few times before breaking into a radiant smile. Her laughter, akin to the blossoming of white flowers, momentarily entranced even Rezette.

“Andrei,” she said.

In an instant, Rezette was snapped back to reality.

It was only then that a faint shimmer of magic materialized above Elise’s form. She clutched the sheets with both hands as she moved, her movements delicate, like a young animal struggling with an injured limb.

“Why did you come so late today?” Elise inquired. Had Ivetsa dressed her in fresh attire? She was adorned in a light nightgown, the fabric rustling as she shifted.

“I waited…” she murmured.

“…Elise.”

It was as if she regarded Rezette as someone else, lost in another dream. She whispered weakly, “I miss you.”

Rezette fell mute.

“Andrei, please take me…”

It was unlike her to want to see anyone when she was in pain. Rezette dispelled the translucent magic enveloping her body completely, erasing even the faintest traces of light. Only then did Elise’s murmurs begin to fade, her heavy eyelids fluttering.

“Elise.”

Silence.

“Your Highness,” Rezette repeated.

Only then did her hazy golden eyes regain focus. Rezette let out a frustrated sigh. Whenever he asked her to address him by his name, it was always during moments when she wasn’t in her right mind. That’s how he recognized her. Just like now.

Inexplicably, a faint smile graced Elise’s lips as she gazed at him, her eyes distant.

“Re…” Her voice trailed off.

“Rezette.”

“Re…”

“Rezette.”

“Once more.”

“Rezette…”

He urged and coaxed her to repeat his name, but her muddled mind refused to return to its customary clarity.

Rezette resorted to gently lifting Elise’s drooping head, his touch firm yet tender.

“Who on earth do you need?” he murmured softly. “What do you need, Elizabeth?” Tolerating the role of a mere substitute had its limits, and he had reached his.

“I…” Elise’s lips moved weakly.

“You mentioned that you needed me,” Rezette interrupted.

“Rezette, it hurts…”

It was only then that he realized his grip on her shoulders had been too tight

Rezette gradually released his grip, his touch tenderly relinquishing her.

“Then come here,” he softly invited.

Rather than letting go of her hand, he opened his arms, and she naturally nestled into his embrace. The elusive sense of contentment that had slipped through his fingers earlier now surged back with renewed vigor. A self-assured smile tugged at the corners of Rezette’s lips.

The tumultuous waves of emotion that had consumed him this evening were unlike any he had experienced before. They defied his usual mastery of self-control.

Reflecting on it, he realized that whenever Elise endured great suffering, his heart unfailingly fluttered uncontrollably, both for her and himself. It was a situation neither of them could afford.

Rezette’s hand traced a delicate path across her slender waist, journeying from her midsection to just before it tapered away. His fingers encountered a prominent ‘mark’ that adorned her waist. He had attempted to dispel it once, but the lingering magic persisted in that area.

Instinctively, Rezette had a sinking feeling that this mark was the underlying source of his discomfort.

“Your Highness,” Rezette called.

Elise responded weakly, “Yes…”

“Did the Emperor of Argan visit you in your dreams?” Rezette inquired.

Elise nodded faintly, a sign that slumber hadn’t entirely deserted her.

“What did you tell him? Can you remember?” Rezette prodded.

Elise’s continued silence prompted Rezette to call her name once more.

“Elise.”

Her lips pressed tightly together, revealing her resolute determination not to broach the subject of Argan. Despite her clouded state of mind, her unwillingness to discuss him was crystal clear.

Each time she sealed her lips in such a manner, it felt as though an intangible barrier had been erected, a barrier Rezette could never breach. This silent standoff resembled an unwavering refusal, a reminder that he could never fully penetrate the private world she shared exclusively with her twin.

Suddenly, an urge welled up within him, a desire to shatter that impenetrable barrier.

Rezette knew he couldn’t erase the marks of another man from her body using his power. But what if he covered those marks with his own?

His gaze descended, tracing a path down her chest before settling upon her flat abdomen—a body that seemed devoid of any sign of life. Unconsciously, his hand found its way to Elise’s belly.

Rebecca Petisson’s composed words echoed in his mind. In the height of summer, she had mentioned that Elise’s belly would become noticeable, arousing suspicion due to its undeniable absence.

Shadows danced in Rezette’s blue eyes as he looked down at Elise.

A woman carrying my child…

For a brief moment, he entertained the notion of Elise having a slightly protruding belly. Strangely, he didn’t feel any resistance, unlike when he had initially accepted Elise’s proposal. In fact, the thought of her bearing his child made her even more beautiful in his eyes than she appeared at this moment.

It was a sensation both incredible and somewhat maddening.

Rezette bitterly mocked the transformation of his own beliefs, a transformation that had taken only six short months.

Unless I’ve been bewitched.

In Genovia Irienn’s discerning eyes, it appeared that Rezette had fallen utterly under the princess’s enchantment. The names of Elise frequently escaped the lips of Rebecca Petisson, Alfred, Sobeul, and even Ruben Diark, whenever an opportunity presented itself.

Rezette’s forlorn countenance, even if he only admitted it to himself, suggested that he was ensnared in some enchanting spell. Elise had cast her irresistible allure upon him.

Otherwise, why would he willingly engage in such reckless undertakings, actions that could lead to the conception of another being like himself?

It was not merely a matter of indulging his desires; he could not afford to be so heedless.

In a peculiar twist of fate, Elise’s fainting spell had turned out to be a stroke of luck. Had she not collapsed, it would have been exceedingly difficult to anticipate the ramifications of her expressed desire to see him.

Rezette detected a subtle undercurrent of magic at Elise’s lower back as he ran his hand down her slender waist, his thoughts entwined in contemplation.

“It serves as a reminder not to grow complacent. While she may be living solely for you at present, how long will that last?”

“Isn’t she simply biding her time, waiting for the right moment to escape? Will she continue to reside in Rotiara?”

What were the odds that the Argan Emperor still drew breath?

If he were indeed alive, and if Elise were to discover…

Then what were the chances that she would choose to return to her twin brother?

The answer was glaringly evident, rendering speculation futile. Even in the confines of Rotiara, she felt mentally stifled without him. How could she not yearn for her homeland? Wouldn’t her heart lead her to reunite with her twin?

Fortunately, this was Rezette’s domain. Anything he did not allow would not reach Elise. It was best to keep her in the dark, not only concerning the Argan Emperor but also the disconcerting rumors circulating in the southern reaches of Grandel. Even the whispers about the princess’s fate, gradually seeping northward.

Here, within his territory, Elise had only one focus.

Rezette carefully dampened the sheets and gently lowered her onto the bed. He tenderly brushed his fingers against her cold cheek, willing warmth to course into her skin.

“You said you wanted a child.”

The notion of ensuring her stay, preventing her from escaping, didn’t appear as a malevolent idea. In fact, it seemed like the perfect solution—a flawless strategy.

Elise would have the child she yearned for, and he would have her. She would be entirely preoccupied with herself, the life growing within her, and nothing else. She wouldn’t possess the time or energy to concern herself with the events unfolding beyond the confines of Rotiara.

Right up until the moment she approached childbirth.

Then, without warning, his vision shifted, taking on a nauseating hue of green, as though blood had been inverted. Echoes of his earliest memories flitted through his mind, much like they had yesterday. Rezette gazed down at the pitiable sight of his mother’s lifeless body, sprawled before him as if resurrected within the illusion that clouded his eyes.

A profound revulsion surged within him.

Gradually, his sanity reasserted its grip.