Chapter 04
The marriage proposal was rejected.
Her so-called father gave various excuses, but in the end, it was a refusal.
She was his.
That was why he had endured all those hellish, bloody battlefields without seeing her for so long. Because soon, he would have her. Because he would become a man worthy of her.
But she was refused to him.
Why?
He had worked to claim her properly, with legitimacy. He had achieved it. He had risen high enough to reach her, to take her openly and proudly.
Yet her father—merely because he was her father—twisted everything unjustly.
So it comes back, again, to that cursed birth of his. Damn it. Just because he was born wrong, he had lived bearing everything without complaint, without asking for anything. And now they wouldn’t even allow him the one and only thing that belonged to him?
He thought this was unjust.
He had intended to bring her away peacefully, elegantly. In a way befitting her.
But since the matter had been twisted unfairly, he would now bring her away by his own means.
Because to him, reclaiming what had always been his carried no sense of guilt at all.
Since bringing her up with a gentle hand had failed, he decided he would instead climb even higher than she, and break her down to bring her back.
When the princes’ succession war ended, he became the new crown prince’s right hand, seizing power higher than any other.
In the process, he swept through her family, their heads displayed in the square, then pursued her when she escaped.
The thought that she had fled together with that damn commoner knight boiled his brain with rage—but when he saw her, sitting alone under the cold moonlight by a cliff, her head bowed, all that rage scattered like the wind.
The knight bastard was nowhere to be seen. And there she was—abandoned, crouching in misery.
Her skin roughened, her hair tangled, her dress torn and filthy—his chest ached. He wanted to take her back at once, to a warm castle, sink her body into a marble bath full of rose fragrance, and wrap her in flowing silk dresses that gleamed like water.
The sound of his steps crunching over fallen leaves made her raise her head.
Bloodless, parched lips, and gray, dried eyes—when those lifeless eyes blankly met his, he froze.
Perhaps in that moment, he sensed something was wrong. But he quickly denied that feeling.
She would now be by his side, and everything would be perfectly satisfying.
Yes. That was how it would be.
He forced a satisfied smile and walked closer, step by step.
She staggered to her feet. Her lips moved, trying to form words but failing, then she began backing away toward the cliff’s edge.
She could barely keep her balance—every moment looked dangerously close to a fall.
Alarmed, he stopped. If it had been anyone else he had come to arrest, he might have risked it—seized them before they could fall. But with her, he would not take such risks.
Not yet.
“Come this way.”
His low voice reached her, and after her lips trembled several more times, a cracked, faint voice slipped out.
“Just me… take just me.”
“What?”
She looked up at him with lifeless eyes. The green that once shone clear and bright was now dull and dry.
“I’m the only one left of the traitor’s blood. Just take me.”
“…Are you talking about that damned bastard who dragged you out here and then abandoned you?”
“…”
She bit her blood-crusted lower lip.
“You’re asking me to spare the bastard who left you in this state and ran off?”
“…Yes. There’s no need to drag back someone who cast aside the traitor’s blood.”
Her eyes dropped slowly, as if she no longer had the strength to meet his gaze.
“I’m a sinner. I won’t resist. I’ll follow you… please.”
Her body swayed, too weak to support itself. Pebbles crumbled and tumbled from the cliff edge beneath her feet.
He stared at the ground crumbling beneath her weight, then answered.
“All right.”
“Really?”
“I promise. I’ll take only you. So come here.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
At his words, she let out a sobbing breath, then stepped toward him.
Slowly, step by step.
She was walking toward him.
His lips curled upward in satisfaction.
It had taken far too long. But at last, she was within reach. Seeing her walk willingly into his arms filled him with immense delight.
But as she staggered toward him, her strength gave out. She collapsed. He darted forward and caught her before she touched the ground.
…So thin, so cold. Holding her close filled his arms, but instead of warmth, her skin was chilled, sending shivers through him.
How long had she been sitting out here, exposed to the cold wind?
Still, the weight of her nestled quietly in his arms spread a languid satisfaction through his body.
Ah, this fulfillment.
Now she was in his embrace. Now and forever, she would remain in his embrace.
Entirely, completely his.
He buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply.
“…My lord, then shall we halt the pursuit of that knight?”
The voice of his subordinate beside him made him lift his head.
“Find him. Tear him apart.”
She lay in the most splendid chamber, upon a soft, plush bed, her eyes closed for a long time.
Many physicians came and went, but none could rouse her. At times her fever spiked so high they scrambled frantically; the next day, her body temperature dropped so low they grew tense.
Still, perhaps through their efforts, her condition gradually stabilized. She had not yet opened her eyes, but color returned to her cheeks, and her temperature rose to normal.
Though he often had to leave to settle the aftermath of the palace, every other moment he spent seated beside her bed, gazing at her.
He toyed idly with her golden hair, which had grown dry and dull, losing its luster…
He never tired of looking.
In this tedious, worthless world, only when he looked at her did his heart stir, did he feel light.
All this time, he could not see her, no matter how he longed. He could not touch her. All he could do was imagine her face again and again, and so she became the holiest vision in his mind.
But now—she was here, beside him. In his castle. In the chamber he had prepared. The real her. Not a vision, but real enough to touch.
He slid his hand from her hair to her cheek, touching it gently.
At first only with fingertips, as if she were a bubble that might burst at a touch. But when he saw she did not vanish, he pressed his whole palm to her cheek.
Warmth seeped into his skin. Yes, this was the warmth he had yearned for. The living heat he had craved all those years.
He lowered his face to her neck and breathed in. The sweet scent he had long substituted with ribbons—now he drank it in fully. He felt drunk on it.
Now he could see her whenever he wished. Touch her whenever he wished. Whenever he wished…
When she finally opened her eyes, the first thing that appeared in them was bewilderment.
When news came that she had awakened, he rushed to her side, dismissed all the maids, and approached her bed.
She flinched, shrinking back, as if to put even a narrow bed’s worth of distance between them.
He sat in the chair at her bedside—the same chair he always used. When he neither came closer nor reached for her, she seemed to relax a little. Yet her gaze was pale, filled with fear.
…He didn’t like that.
“I thought… I thought I’d be in prison… but this is…”
Her voice trembled faintly with fear.
“This is my home. From now on, you’ll live here.”
“…”
She dropped her eyes and fell silent. What was she thinking?
“…My parents…”
Her hands gripped the blanket tightly, crumpling it, as she spoke in a careful whisper.
“My family… they were all… executed…”
When he gave no reply, she finally raised her desolate gaze to him.
“Why am I…?”
“You were granted to me. You’re mine now.”
At his words, her face went pale. He rose from the chair and sat on her bed. She shrank back further, but he reached out and stroked her face.
She flinched, turning away, but he seized her with both hands, forcing her to meet his gaze.
Her terrified eyes quivered, then dropped away.
Yes, he hated that. He hated seeing those once-bright green eyes full of fear, averting him. Where had her radiant gaze gone?
But it was fine. Time was on his side. She would stay with him always now. One day, her gaze would return.
She would look at him again, with those clear green eyes. She would smile for him.
“Don’t worry about anything. Just rest. You’re safe here.”
