TPWSM 55

Chapter 55

In truth, I had hoped the Duke would be caught here. But did things ever unfold that easily? I sent the cavalry back the way they came and approached the guards at the gates of Yorka Castle.

“Has the Duke entered Yorka?”

“Y-Yes! Sir, the Duke rode straight through this gate,” the guard with a vacant expression shouted in response. It seemed the guards here hadn’t even considered the possibility of stopping the Duke.

A sigh escaped me. His appearance seemed to act like a free pass wherever he went, almost screaming, I am the Duke.

“How long has it been since he entered?”
“About a quarter of an hour.”

Fifteen minutes. Then there was still a chance.

I tugged sharply on the reins and passed through the castle gate. It wasn’t far to the intersection from here. Katarina spurred her horse just behind me.

Riding at full speed left my thighs burning, but I pressed on.

When the wind tossed my stray hair in every direction, we reached the intersection.

We had no choice but to stop. A crowd was packed tightly like a cloud around a particular spot.

Traffic had halted as the crowd surrounded the area. People in carriages, driven by curiosity, were getting out and walking toward the commotion.

I dismounted quickly and approached, one step at a time.

Sensing something unusual, I covered my nose. The stench of blood was so strong it made my stomach churn.

The smell of death carried all the way here. My heart shrank as if I’d plunged into icy water.

I forced my way through the dense crowd to reach the center.

There lay the source of the stench.

A brown horse had collapsed, its neck severed from its body. Blood still gushed from the wound. No soldiers or knights were in sight. The situation seemed concluded. For a moment, I felt relief that the body on the ground wasn’t the Duke.

But that relief quickly faded. I noticed a white diamond pattern on the dead horse’s forehead—it was the Duke’s mount.

“What… in the world happened?”

I grabbed a girl standing in the middle of the murmuring crowd and demanded, “Tell me!”

“Th-They… to save me…”

The girl, Dvorca in shabby attire, was sobbing.

“Save you? Who saved you? Stop crying and speak clearly.”

“Sniff… A man subdued the soldiers who were beating me… The Governor’s knights came rushing in… when they couldn’t arrest him, they killed his horse like that. While he was distracted, several knights grabbed him and took him away.”

The girl’s pale face trembled as she spoke.

Even the Dvorca locals around us stood dumbfounded, mouths agape.

“Who was this man who saved you? If you don’t know his name, at least describe him.”

I asked the question, knowing the answer but dreading it.

“Silver hair, tall, wearing a white uniform… maybe a noble, maybe someone higher… His eyes… they were purple! Sniff… What do I do? If I hadn’t tried to run from my master’s house…”

She wiped her streaming tears with her tattered sleeve, leaving gray-stained streaks.

Ha… I’d hoped it wasn’t true.

But the worst-case scenario had come true.

Whispers started spreading among the crowd who overheard our conversation.

“Oh my, silver hair and purple eyes? That must be His Majesty, our King!”
“R-Really? Looks similar to the person we saw at the royal marriage parade from afar…”
“Gosh, his clothes weren’t ordinary either. What now? Will he be dragged to the Governor’s office and punished?”
“When the Governor’s knights fell, it felt satisfying, but now my stomach twists in worry.”

The women, apparently locals of Yorka, stomped their feet nervously.

If they were thinking of His Majesty, they must have meant the Duke. Most of Dvorca’s citizens referred to the Duke as their king. They certainly wouldn’t appreciate a Duke title given by Levantea, which swallowed up their country.

…the Duke, who had tried to flee from me, had been captured while rescuing a child from his own country in distress.

Witnessing the enslavement of his people, he couldn’t bear it.

Once outside Blansk, such harsh scenes were inevitable. I had hoped he would stay within my safe confines, at least during this honeymoon period when we needed to bond.

I fell silent, face hidden. Katarina, observing me, approached worriedly.

“Alisa, let’s head to Yorka Royal Palace.”

“Yes, this is no time to linger. Let’s go.”

I mounted my horse again and steered toward Yorka Royal Palace, where the Governor resided.

I had to admit my own foolishness. I had been trying desperately to capture him myself, but it was pointless. From the start, I should have aimed straight for the palace.

I prayed as we rode madly toward the palace:

Please, let the Crown Prince have kept the Duke alive.

If the Duke hadn’t provoked the Crown Prince, his neck would not have been severed.

Through the cliff-high castle walls, the palace came into view. The closer we got, the more anxious I became.

I prayed not only for his life but that his limbs, fingers, toes, even hair, were still intact.

My hands shook as I gripped the reins. Since being born as Alisa Lasantia, I had never felt this helpless.

I had intended to protect him, to keep him safe until he could properly assume his position as the ruler of Dvorca.

“Why do you even stop me from doing that…?”

The one who had tried to flee from me gradually became a source of resentment.

Until this morning, I had thought he shared my resolve, that he wanted the same world I did.

A place where, after an endlessly long and dark night, the dawn finally breaks—a place where the survivors want to keep living.

I had wanted to restore Dvorca, my country, my family’s ruined land, by any means.

No matter how long it would take.

I believed it was a duty I had to fulfill while I lived. And for that, I needed him.

Biting my lips, I renewed my resolve:

I must protect him.

The ruler of Dvorca, brought to me as a slave through no fault of his own…

“Aha, the dog’s master has come to fetch him,” said Crown Prince Daimon, rising from the throne in the audience hall. He approached me as though welcoming a beloved niece.

I wanted, more than anything, to punch that chubby cheek square in the center.

I stood silently and endured his embrace.

His eyes were slightly unfocused, like someone who had just smoked opium. Yet his voice was clear in my ears.

“Dog’s master?” I ground my teeth and pushed against his chest slightly.

“I have come to escort the Duke,” I said.

“Heh heh, Alisa. Skipping a proper greeting for your uncle to find your husband first? How long has it been since the wedding, and you’re already head over heels,” Crown Prince Daimon teased. His slicked-back blond hair glistened, smelling strongly of chemicals. I almost felt sick.

“I know where he is. Let’s skip the small talk.”

“Well, alright. If the great Duchess of Dvorca wishes so,” the Crown Prince said, raising one corner of his mouth and signaling the nearby captain of the guard.

His smug face tested my patience. Some people’s blood was drying out, on the brink of death, yet he found this amusing.

Clang.

From behind the audience hall, a door opened.

A knight entered, dragging chains behind him. At the end of the chain was a man in a black robe.

“Kneel.”

At the Crown Prince’s command, the knight kicked the man in the shin. He let out a short groan and dropped to his knees.

Then, whoosh, the Crown Prince pulled back the hood of the robe.

The man’s face was revealed.

“Now, your master has arrived. Follow him,” the Crown Prince sneered at the Duke.