Chapter 13
What on earth was he saying?
Ariella already knew Dmitri had never been loved by his father.
She had even suspected there might have been violence.
Perhaps beatings on his legs.
Or slaps across the face when the Emperor was in a foul mood.
Those had been her assumptions.
But her shallow guesses now seemed absurd.
What he had endured was not mere violence.
It was abuse.
Severe.
Cruel.
And Dmitri spoke of it as though he were recounting someone else’s story.
“No matter how hard he swung the whip, I never screamed.
So one day, he shoved me into ice water.
That—I couldn’t endure.
I didn’t even realise I was screaming until much later.
I must have been… about eight years old.”
Ariella bit down hard on the inside of her lip.
Her throat constricted, and even swallowing became impossible.
“But do you know what was even more horrific?”
He turned his head toward her.
And smiled.
A chilling, skin-crawling smile.
“Every time I screamed, he smiled like this.
As if he were thrilled.
So thrilled I almost wanted to imitate it.”
Dmitri turned away again, and Ariella squeezed her eyes shut.
This wasn’t just a man slightly broken.
He was shattered.
Beyond repair.
The more she came to know him, the poorer her heart became.
Because every emotion she had brought with her was steadily being emptied out.
“My horse is dead.
It only ever allowed me to ride it… Was that my mistake?”
“…”
“It must have been one of my father’s traps.
But since I couldn’t protect it, it’s as if I killed it myself.
I can’t make excuses.”
Ariella shook her head silently.
She wanted to tell him It isn’t your fault.
But the words of comfort refused to come.
“The only thing I can do now is kill with my own hand.
At once.
Quickly.
That’s all.”
The stream shimmered in the light.
He stared at his cleaned palms for a long while just as he had when he spoke of her family’s deaths.
“I killed your parents and siblings with my own hand.
At once.
Quickly.”
What she had once thought his most merciless cruelty now came to her in another light.
Perhaps, in his own way, he had shown them mercy.
Even with only his back before her, Ariella could picture his expression clearly.
Her chest ached, tight with pressure.
“I know you find the sight of blood abhorrent.
I do too, even as I spill it.”
“…”
“But today… I have no choice.”
“Because… you have to win?”
He paused.
Then, in a flat voice, “Yes.”
“Ariella.”
Her name fell from his lips as naturally as if he had been saying it all his life.
And she wondered why he never let her hate him as freely as she wanted?
“You are not ugly.”
“…What?”
“The princess is not plain.”
“Why… why would you suddenly say that…?”
“It isn’t sudden.”
She glared at his shoulder, unsure what she was meant to feel.
Deep down, she knew the truth her homeland had not been lost over something as shallow as her appearance.
But no one had ever told her so.
And the fragile defences she had built alone trembled easily, like reeds in the wind.
“Since that day, I’ve thought I should tell you.
None of this has anything to do with your face.”
“…”
“Especially your hair… It’s beautiful.
So don’t ever think otherwise.”
Ariella flinched, clutching at her hair with both hands.
She ought to thank him.
Yet her throat locked, no words escaping.
“And I have never thought of marrying someone else to strengthen my power.”
His words fell on her like a sudden hailstorm.
She wanted nothing more than to run.
“The only reason I try to send you away is because I can’t allow my person to become my weakness.”
His person?
Me?
The unbelievable words rang in her ears.
Ariella bit her lip hard.
Her heart beat wildly, for no reason she could name.
And then the thought struck her.
Dmitri wasn’t evil.
He was hurt.
He had lost his mother too young.
He had suffered brutal abuse at the hands of a father whose reasons he never knew.
He had been thrust again and again into battlefields.
And now, he was forced into a marriage he did not want.
If everything she had learned was true, then her assumption likely was too.
His heart, wounded for so long, must have festered.
A heart that once longed for love, left to decay, would twist into resentment and finally, into something beyond repair.
Perhaps that was how he had become the cruellest man alive.
But even so, another thought haunted her.
What was worse for her?
Dmitri being evil or Dmitri being broken?
Either way, there was no victory for Ariella.
“To be honest… I think you’re more beautiful in person than in the portrait.”
“…What?”
Even in her confusion, his calm voice carried on.
“When I first saw your portrait, I wasn’t impressed.”
Please, stop.
Stop stirring her heart.
“It was dull.”
“…Excuse me?”
She blurted it out so loudly that his shoulder shook once.
Was he… laughing?
“So you mean my real face is entertaining?”
“Yes.
Very much so.”
That devastatingly handsome face fixed on her, water-darkened hair gleaming in the sunlight.
His black eyes sparkled like clear water.
She had never thought they could shine like that.
No—this wasn’t the time to be captivated…
She furrowed her brow.
But Dmitri smiled as if he had been waiting.
Lips and eyes curving together into a radiant smile.
Her resolve crumbled her heart pulled sharply toward him.
“Truly, yours is an entertaining face.”
“What does that even mean?”
Was “entertaining” even an adjective for a face?
“Mm… a face I never grow tired of seeing.”
“T-that’s enough!”
“Hmm?”
Ariella leapt up from the rock, fighting the urge to cover his mouth with her hand.
“We should move. Now.”
At her words, Dmitri rose as well.
His finely carved muscles and sharply cut collarbones filled her vision.
And then he stretched an arm toward her. She instinctively stepped back.
But her foot caught against the rock.
She couldn’t retreat further.
Dmitri leaned close, tilting his head to the right.
His smile brimmed with mischief.
“W-what are you—?”
She shut her eyes tight.
And heard it.
A clear, low chuckle.
When she snapped them open, his dark eyes were already fixed on her.
Time itself seemed to pause—the water in the stream even stilled.
Then he extended his arm fully.
“You’re still wet.
Completely.”
“…What?”
“My clothes.
Not dry at all.”
In his hand was his still-damp shirt.
Heat rushed to her face.
At that moment, Eric returned from his scouting with a spare shirt.
Likely one he had kept tied up with Dmitri’s belongings.
He slipped behind Dmitri, assisting him with practised ease.
Dmitri twisted his shoulders to don the fresh shirt his eyes still locked on Ariella.
She, flustered, jabbed at the ground with her toe, unable to meet his gaze.
As the sun dipped, the sky suddenly darkened.
Rain threatened to fall at any moment.
Ariella glanced again at Dmitri’s arm.
The blood had begun to seep through once more.
Though Eric had bound it tightly with a towel, the bleeding hadn’t fully stopped.
Perhaps noticing her unease, Dmitri tilted his head toward her.
“Tired?”
“N-no.
It’s just… shouldn’t your arm be treated?
It needs stitches…”
He cast a casual glance at it.
When washed in the stream earlier, she had seen torn flesh.
“I’ll tend to it later.
This will bring some fever tonight, but I’ll recover quickly.
So don’t worry.”
“This… this isn’t the way back, is it?”
“We can’t return yet.”
What kind of victory demanded such stubbornness?
But she couldn’t argue further.
“Then… where are we going?”
“Straight ahead there’s a cabin.
We can rest there.
It has basic supplies for treatment.
You’ll stay hidden inside until evening.
After that, we’ll return to camp.”
Eric had already gone to reconn
oitre near the camp.
Since he’d promised to return soon, Ariella guessed this cabin must be a secret refuge known only to the two of them.
“And the hunt?
You’re not continuing?”
“Not until Eric returns.”
“Why?”
Shouldn’t they hurry to bring down the bear if they wanted to win?
And Eric would not be back quickly he had gone far.
“Because I have to protect you.”
