Chapter 87

Moments ago, Rezette, who had stood tall and imposing, now stooped, directing his gaze downward towards an individual. The grip he held lacked warmth as he nonchalantly turned the cheeks of a young man kneeling before him, almost as if scrutinizing the appearance of his opponent.

With a gaze akin to studying a lifeless stone rather than a person, Rezette eventually withdrew his hand. His attention then shifted to the left, where Barnon awaited. The merciless hand rose to lift Barnon’s chin, cradling his head firmly.

“Rezette,” Elise called out, capturing the slowly returning gaze. As her eyes surveyed the grassy field stained black, not only Rezette but everyone in the front yard fixed their attention on her.

Amidst the silent audience, Elise’s gentle voice carried towards Rezette. “What’s happening?”

Rezette met her gaze. “Elise.”

“Are you searching for something?” she inquired further.

“Something like that. Why did you come out? You didn’t have a chance to rest last night.”

“It was noisy outside, so I woke up,” Elise halted just a step away from him, directly facing Barnon without a downward glance.

Rezette responded with a calm and composed tone, void of any agitation. “It will be over soon. Go inside and rest. You stayed up all night, so you must be tired.”

“Your back must be sore, too,” he added.

Silence lingered, and Elise couldn’t shake the feeling that he was subtly mocking her. Though his voice remained steady, as if discussing the weather, a subtle undertone hinted at something more. When she felt his gaze lightly scanning her body, the tightly clenched muscles in her waist and inner thighs twitched involuntarily.

Rezette casually brushed aside the silver strands of hair covering her neck, revealing traces of long and slender marks tinged with red under the sun. Elise gasped, her cheeks paling as she hastily adjusted her shawl, suddenly conscious of the numerous gazes directed at her.

Among the people in Rotiara, no one was unaware of Elise’s recent tireless efforts. However, revealing explicit traces of intimacy in front of others was an unexpected breach of Rezette’s usual discretion. It was uncharacteristic of him to expose such private moments. 

He seemed different today.

“I hope you didn’t cause a disturbance this morning. I couldn’t sleep much, as you mentioned. And even that was interrupted by a restless dream,” Elise said, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could be.

“Another nightmare?” asked Rezette.

Elise nodded, and at that moment, a faint smirk passed across Rezette’s eyes.

“Whether it qualifies as a nightmare, I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“You would know better. About the dreams you’ve been having.”

At the ambiguous response, Elise’s cheeks turned pale with tension. The mere mention of dreams sent a chilling shiver through her, as if someone had poured icy water on her head.

Surely, he wouldn’t be penetrating into the dreams I have.

Or perhaps, did I utter something dangerous in my sleep?

Elise couldn’t decipher the man’s emotions in front of her. Just a few hours ago, he had been exploring her with fervent mo*ns, seemingly consumed by ple*sure as if she were the sole focus of the world. The face that had been distorted with intense excitement and desire was now smooth and cold, like a glass wall.

Anxiety rushed in through the cracks in her composure, and Elise grappled with the uncertainty of the situation.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Elise insisted, seizing his hand without hesitation. “Let’s bathe together.”

“Of course.”

“Now. I want to bathe now. Let’s do it together. Come over.”

There’s nothing more important to you than me… Hurry. You came over yesterday. You like my body. You thr*st into me until I faint every time, but even that is not enough, and you still crave more.

The knights of Van Yela discreetly turned their heads away. Those who now looked at Elise with a mix of shock were only her people. It didn’t matter how they perceived her, whether as a queen or a concubine; what did it matter?

“Rezette…” Elise spoke his name with a mix of longing and urgency.

Rezette, who had been silently looking down at Elise, gestured for her to come closer. Elise lifted her step as if enchanted by his magic. He easily embraced Elise, tucking her disheveled curls behind her ear. Delicate facial lines and damp eyelashes were now fully exposed.

Yet, in this particular moment, despite the allure of her appearance and the feeble attempts at temptation, they fell short of deceiving him.

“We will address that shortly. But first,” Rezette turned Elise in his arms, allowing her to witness the seven hostages kneeling at her feet.

“Elise, I have one question.”

Sensing the weight of impending words, Elise’s throat tensed. As she struggled to break free, powerful hands firmly restrained her, rendering her unable to move. 

Simultaneously, a relentless question reverberated in her ears.

“Who is Barnon?”

***

Barnon Conrad. The first time Rezette encountered that name was likely amidst Elise’s menstruation. As Rezette dryly reflected on the past few days, a span of about four days when physical contact with Elise was prohibited brought forth significant changes for him.

Elise, engrossed in her own festivities, may not have been cognizant of these shifts. Rezette, however, paid meticulous attention to every nuance surrounding her, even delving into the indistinct murmurs escaping her lips during sleep.

Observing Elise’s actions and the gradual awakening of her senses proved generally satisfactory. Except for the request to explore beyond the confines of the bedroom, she exhibited no inclination to venture outside. Aside from Rezette and the lone maid, and Rebecca Petisson, who accompanied her, interactions were limited to Alfred and Sobeul within the castle. Whereas in the past, she frequented the second-floor office, even during the revelry, such visits seemed conspicuously absent from her agenda.

Occasionally, when Rezette shifted his gaze with contemplative eyes, she responded with a quick smile. This behavior was more prevalent during the day—yes, during daylight hours, she exhibited such mannerisms.

However, the challenge lay in unconscious.

It was an impervious territory, resistant to his most concerted efforts to penetrate. In that realm, Elise beheld faces unknown to Rezette. Despite his ability to harness the boundless magical power emanating from her like water and fire, it remained accessible only during those fleeting moments.

At nightfall, Elise delved into dreams, shed tears, and uttered the name of someone unknown to Rezette. For a dragon, unbound by human physiological constraints, sleep held no particular significance. This fortunate circumstance allowed Rezette to observe Elise night after night.

Through these nocturnal observations, he gleaned valuable insights. Notably, a substantial surge of magical power emanated from her during her dreams. Over time, Elise became more deeply immersed in her dreams, forsaking tears for a profound connection with her subconscious. It was during these episodes that a new name escaped her lips.

“Barnon…”

She, who once murmured only the name of Emperor Argan sporadically, spoke a different name for the first time. It was a singular occurrence, but the tremor in her voice, the articulation of the unfamiliar name, the resonance, and the delicate longing that emanated were so profound that it bordered on discomfort.

As Elise whispered her brother’s name and began to slip back into deep unconsciousness, Rezette decisively pulled her up from the bed. ‘Andrei’ would make more sense; after all, he is her blood relative. Why, then, did she passionately call out a name clearly belonging to another man in her dreams? Especially while lying in his bed, being embraced by him? It was unbelievable. Rezette’s tolerance for another man’s name escaping his woman’s lips was not plenty enough.

After glancing at his own reflection in the dim golden light, he swallowed as if trying to grasp the breath that had just left her lips. The momentary discomfort subsided, but the name Barnon continued to gnaw at Rezette’s patience, persistently resurfacing in his mind.

“Even if I were to ask you, I wouldn’t receive a favorable response, so I investigated on my own. Barnon—whose name is it?” he said. “It belonged to Duke Conrad. The head of one of the two families supporting Argan.”

The woman cradled in his arms trembled like a frightened bird, yet her protesting voice remained resolute.

“I must have had an old dream. I don’t remember. Why do you have to use that as a reason to accuse me?”

“Do not attempt to deceive me with lies. I’m not asking out of ignorance.”

Elise’s shoulders visibly tensed under the stern tone. Regardless of whether the individual named Barnon belonged to the Van Yela lineage or not, Rezette would have felt equally repulsed. Furthermore, discovering that he was affiliated with Argan only added to his disdain.

The surge of anger directed at the illusion was far from pleasant. While the daily spectacle of Elise writhing and shaking beneath him provided a measure of satisfaction, there lingered an unsettling residue that occasionally grated on him like leftover scraps.

It almost felt like divine intervention that the very perpetrator had fallen into his hands.

“I was genuinely curious about his face. Why search for it even in dreams?”

“Rezette.”

“What kind of memories did you share that prompted you to throw yourself into the river, abandon yourself, and go to such lengths as taking the body of a man, even when you couldn’t bear to take off your clothes.”

It took mere seconds for the man, who spent a considerable part of his day observing Elise, to detect the slightest hint of discomfort emanating from her. Without delay, he began scouring the farmhouse for Southerners.

The glances exchanged among the Argan people, who sensed that their identity had been laid bare before the Duke, underwent a palpable shift. The princess, a source of pride and hope for all of the Argan people, being insulted by the Duke ignited a collective fury among them.

“You, a dragon, dare to insult the Princess!”

“Silence!” Ruben delivered a ruthless kick, accompanied by a spine-shuddering impact. The young man, with both hands bound behind his back, cringed fiercely. “Unless you wish to face immediate decapitation, maintain your silence and await disposal.”

“If we feared death, we wouldn’t have come this far. Spare the princess the disgrace and end us now!”

“My lord, perhaps making an example of one of them would be prudent. What do you think?”

The exchange teetered on the brink of a potential bloodbath. Elise tightly shut her eyes in the face of impending doom, grappling with the pressing question of what action to take.

What should I do?

She couldn’t afford to do nothing, yet no words of defense presented themselves. Even if Rezette were aware of Barnon’s name, she could have insisted they were strangers, but even that seemed futile.

“If you intend to kill, Duke, do so now.”

While Elise was still grappling with indecision, Barnon’s eyes snapped open, fixing a direct and defiant gaze on Rezette.