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Chapter 26
He looked down at Aira.
Her golden hair, which seemed to be crafted by an angel’s hand, was messy, and her face was pale. Tears had gathered in her red eyes, and her frail body trembled.
She seemed to be saying with her entire being:
“Help me.”
Slowly, he bent down and placed his knee on the grass.
Even with that, he was still much taller than Aira. He looked at her with a deep expression, then gently reached out and cupped her cheek.
“…Aira.”
His gray eyes flickered as he spoke her name.
For a brief moment, a blue seed bloomed within them.
The once-gray eyes turned into a deep blue, and a faint sigh escaped his lips.
“…”
His eyelashes lowered slightly, and then, tilting his head, he gently pressed his lips against Aira’s.
Her lips were soft but dry, carrying the faint taste of blood.
Though Aira flinched slightly from the unexpected touch, he deepened his breath into her.
A warm energy slipped between her slightly parted lips.
Even in her fading consciousness, she understood that a stranger was kissing her.
But she couldn’t recognize him, speak, or even move.
“Who… are you?”
The power of the Holy Relic was raging inside her, making her lose control of both her mind and body.
Yet, the energy passing through his lips felt harmless—warm, even.
“…!”
That warmth traveled down her throat and met the violent energy of the Holy Relic.
One would think that heat meeting heat would only make things worse, but instead, the Relic’s energy began to calm down.
Like water extinguishing fire.
Like medicine neutralizing poison.
That warmth spread through her body, dissolving the sharp spikes that had been piercing her veins.
“Haa…”
Only after several long seconds did Aira realize she had been holding her breath.
She gasped like someone pulled from drowning waters.
It felt as if a stone that had been stuck in her throat had finally been dislodged.
As if someone had grabbed her wrist and pulled her back from the edge of death.
“I can breathe again.”
As the Holy Relic’s violent energy gradually settled, her strength completely drained away.
She knew she shouldn’t fall asleep here.
But her body was too weak to resist.
“…”
As she slumped forward, he let her forehead rest against his firm shoulder.
Then, he reached out and gently wiped away the blood from her lips.
His gray eyes were clear again, but the blue seed from before had disappeared.
It was as if it had never been there in the first place.
Holding Aira against him, he stayed there for a long time.
Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he ran his fingers through a few strands of her hair.
Soon, a bird flew in and dropped something into his palm—a message.
The Sacred Relic’s disturbance at the sanctuary had finally settled.
“This won’t be the last time.”
He whispered into Aira’s ear.
The power of the Relic was not something a human should possess.
Even if she was Marceline, her being alive was already a miracle.
And no matter the reason, the Relic’s power would continue to show signs of losing control.
Like a storm.
“When that happens, I will come to you again.”
He whispered softly.
Only his hidden abilities could temporarily suppress the flames that would consume her.
“Miss!”
A distant voice called out.
A maid was running toward them, her hands clutching a bottle of medicine.
Behind her, a group of servants rushed forward to help.
He carefully laid Aira down on the grass and stood up.
The soft sensation of her lips still lingered like a faint memory.
Clang—
“Haah… Haah…”
Xavier jolted upright in bed, gasping for breath.
His pillow was damp with sweat, and his broad chest rose and fell with heavy breaths beneath his loose robe.
He wiped his forehead and looked toward the window.
Morning had already arrived.
“…”
He had a strange dream last night.
It had taken him back to the day when Aira arrived at Julienne Palace.
The moment the chandelier shattered unexpectedly.
In his dream, he had reached out to pull Aira into his arms—his beloved Aira.
But just before he could touch her, she disappeared like a wind.
Not just Aira.
Everything around him vanished.
And then, he found himself standing alone on the edge of a cliff.
Above him, the sky was filled with blood-red clouds.
Lightning crashed violently, striking the earth over and over.
It was a scene of destruction—like the end of the world.
And the ground beneath his feet crumbled, dragging him into an endless black abyss.
“Damn it. A nightmare.”
Xavier muttered in frustration.
His mood was already sour, and it only got worse when his servant fumbled while buttoning his robe.
When the servant hesitated to redo it, Xavier growled,
“You useless fool.”
Then, without hesitation, he kicked the servant in the stomach.
“Ugh! F-Forgive me, Your Highness…”
“Get rid of this worthless wretch. I don’t want to see him ever again.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Two soldiers, who had been waiting nearby, grabbed the servant by both arms and dragged him away.
Another servant quickly stepped in to replace him, carefully fastening Xavier’s buttons properly.
Looking into the mirror, Xavier saw that, aside from the faint shadow between his brows, his appearance was flawless.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and strong. A face as noble and handsome as his royal bloodline.
Satisfied, he moved closer to the mirror and adjusted his hair.
Then, he muttered,
“I want her comfort.”
A faint smile curved his lips.
He imagined her—smiling blissfully at him, taking his hand and leaning into his embrace.
Her body carried the soft scent of roses.
But as soon as he recalled today’s schedule, his smile vanished, and his expression hardened once more.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to see Aira today.
Today was the day he had to duel in front of the Emperor.
The Emperor wanted to see his sons’ skills and made them fight once a year.
Xavier’s opponent was Baltas.
“That bastard.”
He remembered how, in their last duel, Baltas had knocked him to the ground, then looked down at him with those arrogant gray eyes.
His lips twisted in frustration.
“Today, I will…”
Xavier never particularly enjoyed training, but for the past month, he had put in effort—spending two hours a day with his instructor to improve his swordsmanship.
The instructor had said Baltas moved like a wolf.
But in the end, wolves were just four-legged animals—no different from dogs.
Xavier tilted his chin slightly, staring at his own reflection, practicing the expression he would wear when he finally defeated Baltas.
***
In the Training Grounds
“Huff… huff… huff…”
His legs felt like they were about to give out.
His waist ached dully, as if something had been knocked out of place.
But more than the physical pain, what truly enraged him was the sight in front of him—those same gray eyes looking down at him.
Like a predator mocking its prey.
Xavier panted heavily, glaring up at Baltas.
Then, the judge’s voice echoed through the imperial training grounds:
“The Crown Prince is victorious!”
“Xavier!”
Julienne, who had been watching anxiously, rushed forward and knelt beside him, checking his condition.
