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Chapter 97
I’ll Stay By Your Side
Johann’s face did not so much as twitch.
Only the murderous gleam filling his crimson eyes betrayed the displeasure he felt.
“Wasn’t the Saintess’s partner supposed to be the Crown Prince?”
“Ah, so you knew too, Duke?”
The Saintess widened her eyes innocently.
“Yes, that’s right. My partner now is His Highness Crown Prince Carlos.
His Majesty the Emperor graciously arranged it, since I have so few acquaintances within the Empire.”
Lowering her long lashes, she smiled with a touch of sorrow.
“…But it wasn’t my will.”
Her voice dropped low as she took a step closer to Johann.
When she tucked her radiant golden hair behind her ear, her white, flawless neckline—untouched by hardship—stood out vividly.
A sweet lily scent grew stronger in the air.
Johann’s vision flushed red as he looked at her.
‘Johann. You must survive. Promise me.’
The stench of blood that once spread like smoke… the flames that had devoured everything…
His ears rang, and his throat tightened as though he were suffocating.
The memories consumed him whole.
‘Johann Blanchet. Do you know what it feels like to burn alive?
When your skin melts away, you begin to wish for death instead.’
‘You’re lucky, you know. You got to live without that pain.
Your family wasn’t nearly as fortunate, though.’
Johann clenched his fists.
He wanted to destroy everything around him that instant.
The screams of his family clawed at the violence he’d buried deep inside.
“Johann?”
The Saintess murmured his name in a soft, almost sultry voice.
Johann’s crimson gaze pierced straight through her face.
‘As I thought.’
Stella hid her thrill behind a faint smile.
‘He senses it instinctively—who his true mate is.’
Duke Johann Blanchet was clearly in turmoil.
Torn between the imposter who had stolen another’s place,
and the woman who should rightfully be acknowledged as his true wife—Estelle.
‘But it’s fate. I’m the one destined to save him—’
Johann could no longer swallow his hatred.
Before Stella realized what was happening, his large hand shot forward—
as if to seize her by the throat.
‘Kill her.’
Just as his hand moved to snap her neck—
“That’s far enough.”
A smooth, unbothered voice broke in.
Someone’s hand—appearing casual yet full of strength—gripped Johann’s wrist.
It was Chancellor Ortega, smiling with narrowed eyes as he placed a hand on Stella’s shoulder.
Johann’s cold gaze shifted to the Chancellor.
Behind that gentle smile was the Emperor’s venomous serpent—the man who purged His Majesty’s enemies without mercy.
“My apologies, Duke Blanchet.”
Ortega bowed deeply, a rare display of respect.
“It seems the Saintess forgot she already has a partner for the ball.
Having been raised within the Temple, she sometimes… shows a certain innocence.”
A polite way to cut her down.
Johann frowned faintly.
That attitude was uncharacteristic of someone in the Emperor’s inner circle, who usually treated the Temple with utmost care.
‘So this is the Emperor’s doing.’
As if sensing Johann’s thoughts, Ortega spoke warmly.
“The Saintess’s partner is His Highness the Crown Prince. That has already been decided.
If the Duke would overlook her mistake, I’ll take her now and ensure she learns proper Imperial etiquette.”
Stella protested with a sulky pout.
“You don’t need to say that, Chancellor.
The Duke and I were just having a pleasant, innocent chat. We were becoming friends.”
“I am not your friend.”
Johann’s sharp voice cut through the air like a blade, the killing intent in it unconcealed.
“Saintess,”
the Chancellor warned softly, patting her shoulder.
It seemed protective, but the tone was laced with threat.
“Mind yourself. Especially before a noble guest of the Imperial family such as Duke Blanchet.”
Stella could do nothing more.
Johann stood there, dizzy—torn between his hatred and his thoughts of Estelle.
He had wanted to kill.
Since that day he’d failed to act, he’d longed only for brutal vengeance against his enemies.
He’d thought about killing her too.
But never before had such an uncontrollable, consuming rage overtaken him like this.
‘What is she?’
This woman provoked a hatred deeper than even Libertan had.
A stabbing pain surged in his head again—
yet somehow, it didn’t feel entirely unpleasant.
Johann turned his back on the Saintess and left her behind.
There was something far more important now than that woman—
a truth he had begun to sense.
‘What I truly seek…’
He had always had one goal:
to kill those who had annihilated the Blanchet family.
‘Estelle…’
She was different from those enemies.
He could desecrate the memory of his dead daughter, Yestella,
but he could not so much as lay a finger on the woman who was now his wife.
Without looking back, Johann strode toward the room where Estelle waited.
He had missed her desperately since the moment he’d left—
and now, the seconds apart felt like hell itself.
He needed her.
So deeply that it hurt.
