Chapter 98

In the end, Elise discreetly summoned Freya to her room.

“You haven’t started yet?” Freya inquired upon arrival.

“No, not yet,” Elise confessed. Perhaps due to the rapid recovery of her health during the past few months in Rotiara, her menstruation had returned as scheduled, signaling a potential change in her circumstances. Elise nervously bit her lip, her mind swirling with unspoken fears.

“It’s usually irregular…” she trailed off, unable to voice her deepest concern.

“That’s right. Let’s try a blood test for now,” Freya suggested.

“Is there a possibility?” Elise hesitated, unable to muster the courage to speak the word ‘pregnancy’ aloud.

Freya’s frown deepened. “It’s difficult to make hasty judgments with such subtle symptoms. But don’t have high hopes. High expectations lead to great disappointment, as last time.”

“I see…” Elise responded softly.

It took several days to confirm the pregnancy through the drawn blood. Each day waiting for the results felt interminable, stretching on like a never-ending week.

Elise found herself pacing between the bedroom and living room, unable to find solace in the familiar surroundings. Eventually, unable to bear the tension any longer, she descended the stairs leading to the study.

Naturally, the study, vacant with its owner absent, was devoid of life. Elise lingered in the room for hours, enveloped in a silence broken only by the soft rustle of papers. She refrained from lighting a candle, allowing the darkness to add to the eerie atmosphere.

She tried sitting at the desk, then moved to huddle on the sofa, her mind consumed by thoughts of what the future might hold. Her fingers absently toyed with the papers and ink bottle on the side table, each item a reminder of the man she would soon bid farewell to.

Mocking herself, she reached for the neatly folded garment resting on the chair. Drawing it close, she buried her face into the indoor gown, a garment often adorned by Rezette. Inhaling deeply, she hoped to catch a hint of his familiar scent, but instead, was met with only the sterile smell of dry fabric.

“It can’t be,” she whispered to herself, trying to quell the rising tide of panic.

It won’t happen.

But what if, just what if it does….

Then what?

Her heart raced wildly within her chest. If she were pregnant, if it were indeed true…

“Okay, shall I?” she murmured aloud, her voice barely above a whisper.

Despite being trapped in a dire situation with seemingly no escape, ironically, that thought came first. Elise struggled to break free from the endless loops of expectation and anxiety, grappling with her fears alone.

The dizziness hit before the test results arrived. On the third morning, a faint trace of blood stained her underwear. It was lighter than usual, but unmistakably blood.

The moment she confirmed the faint streaks of blood, a dizzying sensation engulfed her, as if the world had suddenly shifted on its axis.

“Oh no. Thank goodness,” she breathed, relief mingling with a strange sense of disappointment.

It’s fortunate, but…

Elise was taken aback by the tears cascading down her cheeks, wetting her palms. Her heart shattered into a million pieces without mercy or restraint.

Something felt inexplicably futile. Why this overwhelming sense of disappointment? Why did her heart ache so intensely?

Was it because she had finally accepted the absence of any tangible connection between her and Rezette, a realization that stung with bitter finality?

“The child soon to be born, how beautiful will they be?”

“I’ve never seen Your Lordship with such a gentle face before.” 

“I hope the second child will be a lovely princess. Actually, whichever it is, they will bring another blessing to Rotiara!” 

The air was thick with countless compliments and affectionate blessings directed towards her on Harvest Festival day, each one hitting her like a wave.

Even if they were just words, they felt good. Admirative and reverent gazes swept over her, eliciting a flutter in her chest. Yet, amidst the sea of well-wishes, Elise couldn’t shake off a feeling of disdain.

In truth, she had never given much thought to such things herself.

She hoped for a daughter, one who would be healthy and bear a resemblance to her husband rather than herself. Yet, she also harbored a desire for the child to possess affectionate brown locks like Andrei’s…

These were dreams that Elise had nurtured since her days isolated within the walls of the Argan Palace. The dream of finding someone who would love her, of bearing his child, and of crafting a happy family before her inevitable demise. It was the most beautiful future imaginable for a sickly girl who couldn’t fathom the concept of tomorrow.

But dreams were just that—dreams. Reality was a harsh mistress, yet foolishly, she couldn’t release herself from the grip of futile expectations.

“At last, the era of peace has come to this land!” 

If only she could blend seamlessly into the jubilant crowds, basking in the happiness that enveloped them. If only this were her country. If only that man were Arganian, or at least not a Van Yelan. If only he were a simple villager, not a knight…

Useless fantasies scattered like falling snowflakes in her mind, leaving behind a bitter taste of longing. 

It would have been nice if things were like that.

“This place was never truly meant for me,” she whispered, the words heavy with resignation.

After steadying her racing heart, Elise carefully unfolded the contract she had meticulously preserved on the desk. Nestled beside it was a small piece of paper, and she reached for the inkwell, ensuring her tear drops didn’t taint the parchment. With steady hands, she dipped the pen into the ink and began to write, each stroke deliberate and measured.

“Do you remember, Rezette?” she penned, her voice echoing silently in the empty room. “You said I could escape at any time after the agreed six months. You assured me it was merely a contract marriage, a transaction of mutual benefit. There was no need for sentiment.”

Elise’s words were devoid of the overflowing emotions swirling within her. She tersely and formally notified the termination of the contract.

“The agreed deadline has elapsed, and it is time for everything to revert to its original state,” she continued, her writing steady and unwavering.

And then, she acknowledged it—acknowledged him. He might not have been the one, but to her, it had been love. A naive love, preserved like a fragile flower on the brink of blooming.

Rezette Kyrstan had been the first stranger to enter Elise’s shattered world, a beacon of hope in her darkest hour. Despite the knowledge that everything was a first and shouldn’t have unfolded this way, she had entrusted him with her heart.

First marriage, first experiences. First joys, first sorrows. Amidst countless ‘firsts’, Elise had chosen to name him her first love.

Once the decision was made, bidding farewell became surprisingly facile.

“Thank you for accepting unreasonable terms. I apologize for failing to uphold my end of the bargain,” she wrote, her words a bittersweet farewell. “It was a privilege to dwell in your world, a world I scarcely deserved, even for a fleeting moment.”

“May the blessings of the divine grace Rotiara for eternity,” she concluded, her hand trembling slightly as she wrote the final lines. “And may you be my final despair.”

As Elise’s strength waned, the quill slipped from her grasp, its unpleasant sound reverberating through the stillness of the room as it rolled across the desk.

A profound sense of exhaustion swept over Elise as she carefully returned the quill and inkwell to their designated places, gathering the contract and note with trembling hands. A wave of agitation rippled through her, causing a discomforting sensation in her lower abdomen, like being pricked by tiny needles.

Unable to muster the strength to move immediately, Elise sank into the oversized chair, her petite frame swallowed by its embrace. Tremors wracked her body as she struggled to contain the flood of tears that threatened to consume her. It seemed to take an eternity for the tears to finally subside, leaving her drained and hollow.

The following day, when Freya ascended to the bedroom, she reluctantly relayed the news that the test results showed no signs of a special pregnancy. Nevertheless, she promised to conduct another test as a precaution, drawing yet more blood.

But by then, Elise had already steeled herself for what was to come. There was no longer any reason to waver or agonize. Peace settled over her like a comforting blanket.

***

Rezette’s return to Rotiara came a week later, under the cover of darkness as the sun dipped below the horizon, marking the last night of September. His arrival was earlier than anticipated.

As soon as he crossed the boundaries of the estate, a page was dispatched to the castle. The urgency of his return was evident in the instructions for the servant to prepare and await his arrival without delay.

Elise stood by the door leading to the stairs, anticipation coursing through her veins. When Rezette emerged from the shadows, she enveloped him in a tight embrace, almost suffocating him in her desperation. She had expected him to suppress his emotions, to revert to his usual composed self, but she was mistaken.

“Damn it,” he muttered, his words laced with restrained frustration, catching her off guard. As she blinked in confusion, she felt his grip around her nape tighten.

“I can’t get over it,” he continued, his tone fractured and raw, more a reflection of self-reproach than directed at her. The scent of iron and steel emanated from his heavily worn armor as he leaned closer, his voice a low rumble, as if grappling with internal demons.

“Why can’t it just disappear when I let go?”

Elise didn’t press for details, nor did she feel the need to satisfy her curiosity. There was nothing to gain from dwelling on regrets, she knew.

If this was to be their final encounter, Elise resolved to gaze upon his handsome face without restraint. Fearlessly, she traced the cold contours of his breastplate, enclosing his chest and waist.

As she loosened the leather belt in his grasp, the sturdy armor shifted and slid away. Rezette, shedding the tangled pieces, buried his face in Elise’s chest. Amidst the faint scent of blood, a hint of the dry forest lingered in the air.

The darkness cloaked the world, shrouding Elise’s usually pale complexion even further. They melded together seamlessly, without pause or interruption, not even a fleeting moment to illuminate the shadows with a candlestick. Rezette’s demeanor betrayed a desperate longing, as if he were clinging to her with all his being.

Elise couldn’t recollect how that night transpired. She only retained fragments of memory, blurred by his uncharacteristic roughness. A lingering fear gnawed at her, the fear that her body, now a disarray of sensations, might never return to its former state.

That night, Rezette was unmistakably not himself. There had to be a reason, one that would remain forever shrouded in mystery to her.

As dawn approached, Elise remained awake, her thoughts drifting through the events of the past six months. At times, she descended into a void of emptiness, while at others, she rationalized her choices with a pessimistic outlook. Yet amidst it all, she found solace in reminiscing about the farewell she yearned to impart, her gaze fixed upon his sleeping face.

And when the first light of dawn breached the horizon, she vanished.

As if she had never existed, anywhere, to begin with.