Chapter 94

Amidst the celebratory atmosphere of the harvest festival, the outer courtyard of the fortress, serving as the final frontier in the triple defense line, graciously opened its gates to the local residents, setting the stage for an exquisite outdoor banquet. This tradition had endured in the region long before Rezette’s ascendancy, marking the sole occasion each year when commoners were welcomed into the fortress. The air buzzed with both meticulous preparation and eager anticipation from within the fortress walls.

Yet, Rezette, the ruler of this domain, found himself openly frowning at the prospect. “Make my wife a spectacle for everyone to see?” he questioned, his disapproval apparent. Over the past six months, Princess Elise of Argan, now the grand consort of Rotiara, had unwittingly become a constant subject of attention among the common folk. The fortress workers engaged in ceaseless gossip about her, a situation exacerbating Elise’s growing aversion to public scrutiny.

“It might be beneficial to inform Rotiara of the warmth with which she is observed,” Lady Petisson suggested, having keenly observed the princess’s plight. “Lately, her laughter has waned, and there are days when she seeks solace in slumber induced by fragrances.”

Alfred added, “The doctor claims there’s no significant physical ailment, but mental well-being is a complex matter.”

“The body may be in good health, but mental health is not so easily dismissed,” Lady Petisson replied thoughtfully. “Living in isolation for months, with only a handful of interactions in a confined space – such a life cannot foster health or happiness. Even within a palace, such an environment can lead to depression and heightened sensitivity.”

Rezette hesitated. Lady Petisson, perceiving his indecision, offered firm advice. “You must instill in Her Highness a sense of justice and belonging to Rotiara. This will divert her thoughts from Argan, providing stability here. Didn’t the doctor also suggest such a course of action?”

Upon escorting Elise to the bedroom, Dr. Freya had cautiously imparted the same advice to Rezette. “Ensuring that Her Highness doesn’t succumb to depression requires special attention. Conversely, be mindful not to let lethargy overwhelm her.” The doctor emphasized Elise’s inherent sensitivity and delicate sensibilities. Considering the depths of her inner world, it’s crucial to handle her with even greater care, a point reiterated in the doctor’s counsel.

The terms ‘depression’ and ‘languor’ resonated in Rezette’s mind. Elise, in his eyes, seemed fragile and delicate, marked by frequent tears, underlying fear, and a plethora of thoughts. She occasionally made bewildering choices, veering towards self-harm or contemplating drastic actions like leaping into a river. There were moments when the line between her desire to live or die blurred, creating a sense of ambiguity.

Quite often, in fact, almost every moment, Rezette grappled with an unbearable sensation when he looked at Elise. Despite already being his, he felt an incessant need to reaffirm this fact and fill in the missing parts. No matter how much he immersed himself in her, her presence still felt insufficient.

It was like having just one missing piece, and yet, filling that gap remained elusive. Despite his efforts, Rezette couldn’t pinpoint what that elusive piece was. Merely having Elise quietly confined to the bedroom fell short. Her world extended beyond the physical confines of reality. In her subconscious, she roamed freely to desired places, and in her consciousness, past connections intertwined like persistent impurities.

Rezette found himself grappling with an incessant urge to eradicate the impurities that lingered in Elise’s intricate world. The richness and delicacy of her existence perplexed him, fueling growing doubts and irrational impulses that disrupted even the most mundane aspects of daily life. In the clutches of this internal turmoil, Rezette was in great distress, his attention relentlessly drawn to Elise whenever he momentarily looked away, rendering focus on anything else impossible.

The term that encapsulated this troubling symptom was unmistakably “addiction” or, perhaps more fittingly, “enchantment.” Echoes of Genovia Irrien’s words, spoken under the influence of evil, suddenly reverberated in Rezette’s mind. “It wasn’t you who drove me mad. I went mad on my own. Could it be… it might not be the case for you, right?” The possibility that it was an inherent facet of madness lingered, casting a shadow over Rezette’s state of mind.

With a heavy heart, Rezette responded to those awaiting an answer. “I will inquire with Her Highness.” 

Lady Petisson, sensing the weight of the moment, silently handed over a handkerchief. Unbeknownst to him, ink had dripped from the pen he held, staining his forefinger. Rezette checked the mark and licked his tongue in contemplation. Despite forcibly keeping his gaze on the typeset, his thoughts persistently drifted to the bedroom where Elise peacefully slept.

Even though he was aware that further delay would disrupt the ongoing harvest festival, Rezette couldn’t help but check the time repeatedly. The moment to wake Elise was approaching, and the looming responsibility weighed on him. Contemplating whether to hold her in his arms while reviewing the documents, he entertained the notion that, with her encouragement, progress might expedite.

Externally composed, Rezette concealed the internal maelstrom that dominated his thoughts. Yet, deep down, he recognized that his mental landscape had become uncharted territory, entirely filled with thoughts of Elise.

A sudden, disconcerting premonition gripped Rezette. Regardless of how thoroughly his mind was ensnared by a woman, the idea that he had lost the ability to distinguish things to such an extent baffled him. He found himself tracing the periodic cycles of recurring madness, realizing that, around October, the cycle would often resurface after ten months. Was the precursor already manifesting?

I’ve never broken the cycle. Maybe it’s just anxiety, Rezette contemplated, the sound of the quill pen forcefully placed on the desk echoing in the room. Sobeul, holding a stack of documents awaiting approval, raised an eyebrow in response to the abrupt noise, sensing an unease spreading like shadows across the room.

Regardless of the tasks still remaining for the day, Rezette stood up without hesitation. “I need to see her,” he declared, interrupting the workflow. Sobeul, understanding the gravity of the situation, hesitated to voice his concerns. Despite the tasks at hand, Rezette was already striding towards the staircase leading directly to the upper level.

The side table and safe, once barricading the door, had been relocated to the opposite wall some time ago. Rezette reached for the doorknob, and to his surprise, it turned on its own. The door opened gently. Elise, who had been about to peek through the crack, was taken aback to find Rezette standing right in front of her.

“Rezette?” Her silver, uncombed, curly hair looked fluffy like cotton, and delicate eyelashes fluttered like winter twigs, casting shadows on her pale cheeks. Within her golden eyes, fragments of dazzling light sparkled. Confronted by her unexpected beauty, Rezette’s heart momentarily surged.

It was a familiar occurrence. Despite feeling it absurd to succumb again to the charm of a woman he had been with just hours ago, the unexpected presence of Elise effortlessly disarmed him, rendering him momentarily breathless.

“Elise, why are you here?” Rezette inquired, surprised by her unexpected presence.

“I woke up earlier than I thought. I came to find you,” she replied, her soft and transparent pupils reflecting his face entirely.

At that moment, Rezette realized how much he relished this encounter. It was the pleasure of confirming his reflection in her eyes, like peering into a mirror. The sweet and exhilarating illusion that, in her world, only he existed.

In an instant, he felt a rush of blood to his cheeks. The simple act of locking eyes had now become a potent trigger for such reactions.

Elise leaned her head against his chest, her delicate arms wrapping tightly around Rezette’s waist. “They said you were in the study. If you’re busy, I’ll go back up.”

Rezette, momentarily caught in the enchantment of her proximity, managed to release a tightly held breath. If humans were inherently this charming, it felt like a desire to engulf everything from head to toe.

“No,” he responded. “Not busy at all.”

The piled documents in the study, the assistant rolling his eyes, and the old chamberlain observing with meaningful eyes ceased to be of importance. Rezette, with determination, guided them into the darkened staircase, lifting Elise with one arm. With his other hand, he closed the door, and the light disappeared instantly.

It was the reverse journey, ascending the stairs back to the bedroom. Elise, nestled against Rezette, broached an unexpected topic.

“I feel like I’ve never seen you sleep. I haven’t heard that dragons don’t sleep,” she remarked. Rezette counted the days, realizing it had been quite a while since he had enjoyed proper rest.

“Over a month, perhaps,” he admitted.

Elise, adopting a stern tone, advised, “People need to sleep. Even if you’re half a dragon, the other half is still human.”

“I do close my eyes,” Rezette responded.

“But have I ever seen it?”

“You haven’t seen it.”

Today, the staircase leading to the top seemed unusually high. Rezette glanced at the remaining steps and replied, “I just don’t feel like doing that next to you.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to sleep next to me?” Elise questioned incredulously. As she halted and shook her legs, Rezette’s steps on the stairs wavered.

“I’m okay with doing everything on the bed, but you don’t want to sleep next to me. What does that even mean… Am I just someone to satisfy your desires? What do you think of me…!” Elise’s reproachful words were delivered with anger, but suddenly, shock filled her eyes as Rezette let out a deflated laugh.

Incredulous, she asked, “Is this funny to you right now?”

Before Rezette could offer any explanation, Elise’s torrent of anger poured out. Most of her frustration stemmed from his reckless behavior, which seemed to disregard time and place, and the sense that he had forgotten she was a princess. Yet, amidst her reproach, there lingered a plea for him to, at the very least, keep his promises.