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CHAPTER 70:………………..
Lost Composure
Inside the grand banquet hall of the imperial palace, where luxurious tapestries hung from transparent glass windows, those who had attended yesterday’s hunting tournament gathered together.
On the dais, seated on a golden chair, Illeon announced the winner of the tournament.
“The winner is Count Nathan, who hunted two intermediate-class beasts and five lower-class beasts. Count, step forward.”
With a satisfied expression, Count Nathan walked out to the front.
Illeon handed him a box filled with jewels.
“As promised, the winner may ask for a wish. Is there something you desire, Count?”
“Your Majesty! Merely receiving your grace is an honor for my family. How could I dare wish for more?”
At his words, Illeon smiled in satisfaction.
“A fine attitude. Still, how could I give the winner nothing? I shall grant you one island, along with one hundred slaves and one hundred attendants.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty!”
Dietrich realized that Illeon, wary of him, had chosen another as the victor—one of the palace ministers who had long been his close confidant. But Dietrich said nothing.
In truth, Dietrich had slaughtered Illeon’s men and even wiped out all the high-class beasts during the hunt as a warning. As he had expected, Illeon grew wary and named another as the winner.
“Dietrich.”
At the clear voice that reminded him of dewdrops on grass, Dietrich’s lips softened.
Celiya was leaning against his chest, looking up at him.
He lowered his head and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
The two exchanged gazes and smiled warmly at one another.
“……”
From the dais, Illeon’s expression stiffened as he watched.
“Your Majesty.”
Though his aide called to him, Illeon’s eyes remained fixed in one place.
Princess Anastasia, and Dietrich.
They were no longer pretending to be lovers.
With his sharp insight, Illeon quickly understood.
Their hearts had truly reached one another. Otherwise, they could never smile so brightly together.
Where deep darkness had once lingered, a new emotion called happiness had sprouted.
Illeon felt his mouth go dry and parched.
“Your Majesty.”
When his aide called again, Illeon slowly turned his gaze.
“Yes, I should finish the address.”
Muttering under his breath, Illeon rose to his feet.
“You all worked hard for the hunting tournament. Tonight, we shall hold a banquet until late—eat and enjoy yourselves to your heart’s content.”
At the end of his words, thunderous applause and cheers filled the hall.
Just before leaving the banquet hall, Illeon cast one last glance at Celiya.
The woman who had once looked at him with hatred and resentment now bloomed like a flower whenever she looked at Dietrich.
Her fresh green eyes curved gently within her delicate features. Her red lips drew a faint curve, a bashful smile making her dazzlingly beautiful.
Even though he had taken everything from her, she could still smile so brightly.
Illeon didn’t know what to call this strange feeling when he looked at her.
Did he want her completely broken?
Or perhaps…
At that moment, Dietrich raised a hand and placed a protective screen over Celiya’s head, blocking Illeon’s gaze.
Dietrich’s cold eyes met his.
Even from just that look, Illeon felt the murderous intent tearing into his skin.
“Duke Calypso, you seem to harbor many complaints. Have you something to say?”
Illeon spoke nonchalantly on purpose.
Dietrich’s expression returned to its dry calm, and he bowed politely.
“Your Majesty, how could I dare?”
“……”
“I am the Commander of the Imperial Knights, and your loyal servant.”
Outwardly convincing words, but nothing but lies.
Illeon narrowed his eyes.
“I thought you were simply displeased at not being named the winner.”
“The one who names the victor is Your Majesty, who rules over all. Why should you care for the opinion of one beneath you?”
Dietrich’s words struck true.
Illeon realized he had lost the composure he once had.
He had grown hasty, impatient.
Because of what?
The fact that the figure from the prophecy had appeared alive and well filled him with both confusion and exhilaration.
…This is no good.
Illeon decided to change his original plan of waiting and watching the two longer.
“I expect greater effort at the next hunting tournament. Perhaps then, the winner may be you.”
Having regained control of his emotions, Illeon smiled faintly.
“Well then, may you have a pleasant evening.”
He resolved to act swiftly before it was too late.
Illeon turned and quickly left the hall.
“Why wasn’t Duke Calypso the winner?”
“Perhaps his condition wasn’t good, and he couldn’t hunt much.”
“Is that so…”
Some who attended the tournament wondered why Dietrich wasn’t declared victor, but they had no way of knowing the truth.
Dietrich felt no need to explain.
“Forget the banquet—shall we just leave? I prefer being at your estate.”
At Celiya’s words, Dietrich nodded.
“Mm. Let’s do that.”
As they left the hall, someone blocked their path.
Platinum hair, snake-like golden eyes, deathly pale skin, and a mischievous smile.
The man, clad in silver-threaded robes and a golden sash at his waist, wore a single black earring in one ear.
“…Arthur Cervantes. What do you want?”
Dietrich stepped forward protectively in front of Celiya.
Arthur’s gaze fell to the hands the two were holding.
“So, you’re Dietrich Calypso.”
Arthur murmured, not taking his eyes off Celiya’s white hand.
“You’re no Sword Master… higher than that, aren’t you?”
“……”
Dietrich looked at him with indifferent eyes.
“I should have killed you before you grew stronger—before you dared covet what’s mine.”
Arthur cracked his neck, bloodshot eyes glaring.
“You inscribed that damned artifact into your dagger, didn’t you? A protective spell so my clone couldn’t reach her? A mere human able to engrave artifacts without being a mage? I’ve never heard of such a thing!”
Arthur raged, desperate to kill him on the spot.
From his words, Celiya finally understood why Arthur had never been able to harm her.
Dietrich had taught her dagger techniques only so she would naturally carry that enchanted blade.
She squeezed his hand tighter and smiled brightly.
“Thank you, Dietrich.”
He pulled her closer into his arms.
Her silver hair tangled in his fingers, her head burying into his chest.
Arthur’s teeth ground audibly at the sight.
“I’ll add you to my collection. Just your crimson eyes—I’ll pluck them out like jewels.”
Arthur sneered darkly.
“Try it, if you can.”
At Dietrich’s calm reply, Arthur’s smile vanished.
“The one to die then won’t be me—it’ll be you.”
“……”
Arthur glared with killing intent, then suddenly rolled his eyes and snatched something from the ground. His shoulders shook with laughter.
“My Anastasia. We’ll meet again soon.”
With those words, he slipped away like a serpent, vanishing without a trace.
A vast secret chamber, without a single ray of light.
Arthur had built it inside the palace, hidden within his quarters.
Unlike his extravagant collection-filled abode, there were no trophies here.
This shadowy space was made solely for Celiya.
He stretched out his hand toward the candles hanging on the wall.
Whoosh—
A flame sparked from his palm, lighting the candles.
The flickering light revealed a silver birdcage in the center of the chamber, as tall as a person. It was empty.
Arthur withdrew a small taxidermy frame from his breast pocket.
Inside, just one silver strand of hair—what he had snatched from the ground earlier.
He then pulled out a vial of crimson liquid.
“Hah.”
It was a potion—an aphrodisiac.
“For you, my beautiful one. I’ve taken care of all those wicked things that would harm you, haven’t I?”
He spoke to the single strand of silver hair as though it were Celiya herself.
“And yet—you, you see only that bastard!”
His voice grew harsher, veins bulging on his pale neck.
“Anastasiaaaa!”
Clutching his face, he screamed.
His unfocused eyes trembled, his body shaking violently. Then, caressing the frame holding her hair, he whispered:
“I really didn’t want to resort to this method…”
A twisted grin spread across his unfocused face.
“But you brought this upon yourself.”
