Chapter 6
‘It hurts.’
Elruana twisted on the cold floor, the pain crashing over her like waves. Her back felt like it was on fire. Through the palm-sized window, she could see nothing but deep darkness.
‘How much time has passed?’
She had lost consciousness while being dragged here. She tried to sit up, but her body wouldn’t obey. It trembled uncontrollably, like a seizure, no longer under her control.
‘Come on, fingers… Move.’
She bit her lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood. Only then did her body start to respond slightly.
When she managed to push herself halfway up, the torchlight revealed the inside of the prison. All was quiet. To the right, she saw the twisted iron bars, snaking like a serpent.
‘The next cell.’
And she was alone. She kept looking around, but there was no sign of life.
If she was the only one caught…
‘Then Louis and Kazar must have escaped safely.’
A moan slipped from her small lips. She didn’t have to hold it in—there was no one else here. She could hurt all she wanted.
‘So, is this where they chop my head off?’
After barely escaping the torment of that scum, she was back in prison again. With the bars in that shape, the accusation of using “sorcery” would only seem more convincing.
She couldn’t imagine how painful it would be to have her head cut off. It would hurt more than this, surely. She rubbed the back of her neck reflexively and shivered.
Were Louis and Kazar really escaping safely? She had entrusted Louis to someone she barely knew—it worried her.
‘No… It’s for the best.’
No matter what Kazar had in mind, it was better than being caught with her.
She knew when she handed him the sword. Kazar could handle a blade with ease. He could have fled alone, leaving her and Louis behind, but he chose to take them with him. That had to mean something.
Hopefully he would be alright.
She wanted to believe he would be. Elruana hugged her knees with both arms. Tears welled up in her eyes. Would she never see Louis again?
“Mom… Dad… What do I do now…”
Stella and Ron, now in heaven, had no answer for her. Remembering their faces only made her feel more sorrow. Elruana burst into sobs. Once the tears came, they wouldn’t stop.
She hadn’t cried once since hearing that Ron had died in a carriage accident. She knew if she cried, Louis would be anxious. She was the protector. She couldn’t afford to show weakness.
But Elruana was only fifteen. Just a child who longed for her parents’ arms. Everything was too overwhelming for her to handle alone.
The more she cried, the more sorrow overwhelmed her. She resented her mother who had died giving birth to Louis, and her father who had died last year. Her body had long since reached its physical limit, and she didn’t have the strength to move even a finger.
Dad, is it okay if I rest now? I don’t want to hurt anymore.
Tears dripped down onto the cold prison floor.
She remembered the time when her mother Stella, her father Ron, and she lived together. The honey-lavender bread her mother baked was the best thing in the world. Watching her dad forge swords in the smithy was a joy. And the bedtime stories her dad told… how fun they were.
Then Louis was born.
Louis.
How much would Kazar take care of him? It would be fortunate if he at least gave Louis some chores to do. But if they got separated, a child as young as Louis couldn’t survive alone. His only options would be begging or pickpocketing. And Louis was clumsy—not the type to get away easily.
Thieves had their wrists cut off under imperial law. Their wrists…
Her imagination halted there.
‘That won’t happen. It can’t. Don’t imagine things like that.’
Elruana forced her thoughts to stop. As she did, the heat radiating from her back intensified. Then her over-sensitive ears caught the faint crunch of something being stepped on.
‘Someone?’
Startled, Elruana sat up reflexively.
Meals were only brought once in the morning, and Regis usually came when the bell rang twelve times. No one had ever come during these dark hours. This was not a normal visit.
On alert, she saw a man at the top of the stairs.
The torch on the wall lit up a man who looked thoroughly aristocratic. His unwavering steps exuded a suffocating pressure. He did not belong in a dusty, dim prison.
The man stopped in front of Elruana’s cell. She lifted her chin, trying not to shrink back. Like a prey animal puffing itself up to appear larger—it was a feeble effort.
‘Golden eyes?’
Even his hair was golden. For a moment, pain seemed to flicker through his eyes as they met hers.
‘He looks like…’
Like the man in the painting.
Realizing what that meant, Elruana bit her lip.
“Where is Ron Vita?”
His voice was as cold as the chill in the prison. Elruana dropped her gaze and replied,
“I don’t know.”
His golden eyes shimmered. The fire in them died as quickly as it had flared.
“You’re Stella’s daughter.”
At the mention of her mother’s name, her suspicion grew more certain. Realizing who he might be, Elruana studied him more cautiously.
“…Who are you?”
“Tarudo Dwyn Spes.”
The name of the duke who ruled the South. Elruana’s face stiffened at the sudden appearance of such a powerful figure.
“Have you heard of me?”
Elruana lowered her eyes instead of replying.
Not because she didn’t know. The Spes family was a famed alchemist house with power equal to the imperial family.
While sorting through belongings after her mother’s funeral, she had found a portrait of this man—folded twice, worn and frayed from how often it had been looked at.
Ron had told her the man in the portrait was her real father.
Then this man was…
A long time ago, Elruana had once asked her mother if she loved her real father. A somewhat embarrassing question.
Her mother had responded with her usual elegance and warmth:
“I did. Maybe more than I loved myself. That’s why you were born.”
“Don’t you want to see him?”
“I do. I always will. Until the day I die.”
That tender confession made Elruana believe her real father had died. She never asked again.
But if he hadn’t died—and if he was this great nobleman—
Then he had abandoned them.
‘Why show up now?’
Suppressing her unease, Elruana studied the man again. She couldn’t guess why he had come. If he was truly the Duke of Spes, then she was an illegitimate child, a stain on his noble family. He might have come to erase her existence.
Though from his face and demeanor… it didn’t seem that way.
At first, she thought he was angry. But the more she looked, the more it felt like he was swallowing his emotions. At the very least, he didn’t seem murderous.
Was his arrival a melody of salvation—or a prelude to misery?
Elruana lowered her voice and replied,
“…I’ve heard of you.”
“Even your voice is similar.”
A voice laced with regret slipped from the duke’s lips.
He now understood why Stella had raised Elruana in an estate so secluded it was nearly cut off from the world. Anyone who had known Stella would have suspected something immediately—Elruana looked exactly like her mother had as a girl.
This girl was Stella’s choice.
So the Duke of Spes had no choice but to accept it. Suppressing the sorrow piled up in his heart, he said,
“I believe I’m your father.”
Only then did he meet Elruana’s emerald eyes—eyes like precious stones.
It should have been shocking, but Elruana didn’t seem surprised. No questions, no doubts. She merely closed her eyes tightly—eyes that so resembled Stella’s—and opened them again.
The duke continued,
“Did you already know?”
“I knew I had a different biological father. I just didn’t know it was you, Your Grace.”
Her voice trembled. But there was no joy at meeting her father, no hope that she might escape this place. If anything, there was a faint fear.
The duke guessed it was the prison atmosphere and hastily searched his coat. He had no coins, having rushed here. So he pulled a gold button from his sleeve and held it against the cell lock. The button shimmered and slipped inside.
Clank.
The lock clicked open. The Duke of Spes stepped in and stood before her.
“Come with me.”
“…Why?”
“Because I’m your father.”
That’s when Elruana realized—
If she nodded, she could leave this place.
The Duke of Spes had the power to defy even the first prince to get her out.
But what about Louis?
It wouldn’t be hard to beg this man—who claimed to be her father—to find Louis and take him too. She could kneel, cling to his pants, do it a hundred times.
But would he take Louis in and care for him?
He and Kazar were both strangers she had just met. But having escaped together and bonded, she felt Kazar was more trustworthy.
‘First, I need to know what he wants.’
Pleading would come after that.
Elruana looked him straight in the eyes and asked,
“Whatever your reason, you abandoned my mom and me. Why are you here now?”
“I didn’t abandon—”
The duke tried to correct the misunderstanding, but she cut him off.
“Just get me out of this prison. I’ll live on my own. I won’t bother you. I’ll sign a statement promising never to appear in front of you again. I won’t use the Spes name.”
Looking into her stubborn green eyes, the duke swallowed his grief.
“I heard your younger brother wasn’t captured. I plan to find him and bring him with us.”
“…What?”
Louis was the child of Stella and Ron. Why would he take him too? Elruana’s suspicions deepened.
Instead of explaining, the duke knelt to meet her gaze.
“The sword that shattered the Crown Prince’s blade… wasn’t made by Ron Vita.”
“If it wasn’t my father’s sword, then what was it?”
The Duke of Spes felt his throat tighten at her defiant lie.
“You may believe you made it, but every sword that’s passed through your hands… has been alchemized.”
