Chapter 70

Elise fled swiftly, seeking refuge within the towering castle’s protective walls. Her escape had been a blur; the memory of leaping from the carriage and the exact moment she began her flight remained elusive. It might have been triggered by Genovia’s last provocation of Rezette.

“Does Elise realize what kind of person you are?” Genovia’s words still echoed in her mind, and the intensity of the outside world’s scrutiny bore down on her. Overcome by an urgent need to distance herself, Elise quietly left her seat. She moved with deliberate care, suppressing her breath and minimizing the sound of her footsteps as she navigated the castle’s labyrinthine pathways.

Each time her foot met the ground, a delicate, otherworldly magic danced between the hem of her gown and the grassy terrain. Unbeknownst to her, the enchantment emanating from her being began to envelop her, as if instinctively safeguarding her.

Astonishment overtook the gatekeeper upon discovering Elise, breathless and trembling, at the castle’s entrance.

“Your Highness, the princess? Why are you here at this late hour?” he stammered.

“Bring me a horse,” Elise implored, her voice laden with urgency. “I will go to the castle alone.”

The distance from the outermost defensive line to the heart of the central keep stretched considerably. Elise clutched the reins tightly and managed to convey her request to the bewildered gatekeeper.

“Keep it quiet… don’t inform anyone. It’s a direct order.”

After crossing two drawbridges, Elise glided back into the castle as if by some invisible force. Puzzled, she dismounted her horse and paid no heed to the servants calling her, instead allowing her instincts to guide her into the nearest room. Fate had it that this room turned out to be Rezette’s study, a fortunate coincidence in her mission to remain undetected.

Elise cautiously opened the door leading to the top of the tower, slipping inside as if wrestling with invisible obstacles. When she had first descended these stairs, they had been shrouded in darkness, but now a lantern stood at the foot of the staircase. Elise lifted the lantern’s cover and ignited the candle, then ascended the stairs in silence.

The conversation she had overheard not long ago echoed in her mind like an endless refrain.

“We haven’t discovered any traces of Argan’s pillars, Bellator and Conrad… Why did these families, who were expected to meet their end when the Emperor swore allegiance to the Gallian descendants, opt to flee instead?”

Before completing even three turns on the spiral staircase, Elise staggered and sank down onto a step.

Was she succumbing to Genovia’s tempting words? Was her wavering resolve being ensnared by that wicked tongue? Doubt plagued Elise, both for Genovia and her own faltering convictions. Yet…

“The Argan people will undoubtedly strive to reclaim her.”

In response to Genovia’s statement, Rezette remained silent. He had a knack for choosing silence when speaking seemed too troublesome. If Genovia’s words were mere falsehoods, he would have dismissed them with icy indifference.

Then, there’s a possibility, right? Elise’s eyes welled up with tears. There were still those who sought her, even if Andrei was no more. Duke Bellator and Conrad might yet draw breath. Elise dropped the lantern and buried her face in her hands.

Fabian Bellator had long served as the family patriarch, predating Elise and Andrei’s births. He had been the right hand of the former king, and the twins had grown up regarding Duke Bellator as a grandfather figure.

And what of Conrad? Duke Barnon Conrad had been a close friend of Andrei’s, and naturally, he had become Elise’s friend as well. In her youth, Barnon, feeling sympathy for her confinement, had secretly taken her on an excursion. Of course, Andrei had caught wind of their plan before they even stepped foot outside the palace. Elise still vividly recalled the fierce battle between her two friends over that incident, as if it had happened only yesterday.

Barnon continued to pay regular visits to Elise, checking on her well-being, until he assumed the ducal title and relocated to his estate. His kindness, affection, and unwavering loyalty were constants in her life.

Who else was there? During these peaceful times, a flood of cherished, affectionate memories she had never fully appreciated began to surface.

Elise picked up a candle holder, rising unsteadily to her feet. With each step up the staircase, her delicate face twisted in agony. At some point, her cheeks and chin became moist, her cries slipping through parted lips.

I’m not alone.

In the midst of her daily struggles in Argan, Elise found solace in knowing she was not abandoned. Countless people worried about her and offered comfort. Though her health remained a perpetual challenge, Elise was encircled by boundless love, leaving her feeling utterly incapable of repaying it.

She had believed she lost everyone within the engulfing flames of the palace.

Yet, in the darkness before her, a glimmer of hope suddenly appeared. Andrei’s desperate cries in a dream echoed in her mind.

“Where are you? Where are you right now?” He had shouted those words countless times, a fervent search for her. There were those who had sought her with unwavering determination. Elise was not alone.

Half of the continent remained filled with people dedicated to her search, a place she truly belonged and could return to. Her true home was by his side.

For a fleeting moment, she lost sight of this glaring truth. In the midst of a brief respite, she momentarily overlooked an undeniable reality she should have always held close.

Argan required her presence. Nothing could supersede that responsibility.

Excessive emotions, such as love, should not consume her. She was not the one who should come to a halt. Born in Argan, it was her destiny to return there, even if it meant sacrificing everything. When had the unwavering determination to journey back south, no matter the cost, become so obscured?

The path ahead once again became clear. Elise relied on the feeble candlelight to guide her way up the stairs.

At last, she ascended the staircase and gently pushed open the door leading to her bedroom. Ivetsa, who had been waiting anxiously within, startled as Elise entered.

“Your Highness, are you all right… My goodness, you came up here alone?”

“Ivetsa.”

“Why are you crying? Did that lady taunt you again?” Ivetsa asked, her brows furrowed in concern.

“Ivetsa, what I said is true,” Elise murmured weakly. Ivetsa embraced Elise urgently, as if the world itself were crumbling. With a tear-streaked face, Elise smiled. “I must heed the call, no matter when, no matter how…”

Regardless of the sacrifices it demanded.

“Argan forces are amassing at Regal. It appears you failed to inform Her Highness the Princess about that.”

Upon hearing Genovia’s words, Elise’s destination became crystal clear: Regal. A multitude of thoughts raced through her mind. How and when could she reach there? Could she leave Rotiara? What should she do about her contract with Rezette?

The situation remained far from optimistic. Irrien was aware of the Argan army’s gathering in Regal, as was Rezette Kyrstan. If they knew, it was likely that Van Yela and subsequently, the Northern Alliance, were also informed. With so many eyes closely observing, venturing to Regal alone seemed impossible.

The circumstances remained as dire as ever, but Elise no longer carried the same emptiness and helplessness within her. She firmly believed that as long as she didn’t give up, an opportunity would present itself, and she had discovered a place to return to. It provided her comfort like a soothing tidal wave.

This newfound hope had emerged after escaping the labyrinth of death, finding the signpost leading to life, and eluding the palace for nine months. Elise was only partially grounded in reality.

Ivetsa whispered quietly to her, “So, you plan to leave here…?”

“Not immediately, but eventually, for certain.” With her anxious, drifting heart finally finding an anchor, Elise murmured in a daze, “All I need to do is gather myself.”

“Your Highness…”

“It’s a personal matter, just a matter of letting go of this misguided attachment. It’s not that complicated.” After all, it was possible that Rezette didn’t share the same sentiments as her. He might have found her puzzling from the very beginning.

Even in his kindness toward her, it was clear that he wouldn’t entertain any attempts by her to reach out to the Argan people. Rezette, being a native of Van Yela, had valid reasons for maintaining this stance, without any cause for guilt or disloyalty.

“Do you think it’ll change just because Elise knows? Regardless of what you may have conveyed to her, or what she’s been told in return, it’s of no consequence. I’ve made that abundantly clear.”

Given his cold and unyielding response, it seemed futile to nurse any resentful sentiments. She knew better than to harbor illusions.

Rezette Kyrstan had never been in her corner from the outset. Among those who remained unsupportive, he was the most lenient, yet that equated to a reluctance to offer Elise any substantial aid.

Hence, he hadn’t so much as mentioned the dire situation in the southern expanse of Grandel. He had no intention of allowing her an easy passage to that place. Bitterness welled up within her as she swallowed her words. 

Elise grappled with her surging emotions, determined not to let them overpower her.

In the end, all she needed to do was uphold her end of the contract. There was no necessity to fret over or assume responsibility for anything beyond that. Acting in haste, throwing fits, or relying on him were not viable options. The most foolish of endeavors was to dream about a future here.

“Just consider it a fleeting dream,” Elise murmured sorrowfully, and Ivetsa clenched her lips, as if she wished to weep alongside her. She couldn’t muster the heart to rouse Elise to the cruel reality: that she couldn’t depart without the owner’s permission. Without the owner’s consent, she couldn’t leave this very room, let alone venture beyond the confines of Rotiara.

When the thought of the persistent duke, who had pursued her relentlessly, crossed Ivetsa’s mind, her heart skipped a beat. She attempted to console Elise.

“Your Highness, for now, please change your attire and collect yourself a little…”

Suddenly, a noise emanated from the corridor Elise had traversed, sending a shiver down her spine.

Only one individual would tread that staircase.

Elise, who had concealed her face in Ivetsa’s embrace while trying to steady her breathing, suddenly froze. The scent of blood lingered in the air, permeating from some hidden source.