Chapter 76

“Try begging for your life!”

“Hahahaha!”

A terror so deep it seemed she would die welled up in the darkness of her vision.

A memory surfaced.

A memory from the academy.

It had been a late night, and she was on her way back from studying.

Some noble students, calling it a prank, had thrown a sack over her head and dragged her off somewhere.

Her vision had swung wildly in the dark.

That was probably when her fear of darkness first began.

She remembered the strong wind blowing, remembered there being a cliff nearby—and she thought she might fall.

Too scared to speak, she had just cried silently.

She had been terrified.

Being alone. Dying in a place where no one could hear her even if she screamed.

That was it.

She had nearly died that day too.

Memories she had buried came flooding back.

How had she survived back then?

She remembered tightly shutting her eyes, afraid that if she opened them, a dagger would be right there.

Her body had trembled so violently, she had half-wished the dagger would just strike quickly if she was going to die.

No—she didn’t want to die. So she’d hoped it would miss, somehow.

But still—if she was going to die anyway, maybe it would be better for it to be quick.

A whirlwind of emotions surged through her.

Even with her eyes clenched shut, she could feel the bright glow of sunset and the shadow of the man who stood with his back to it.

His shadow, just like the shadow of the sack over her head back then, blocked her vision—and the memory from the academy returned in full.

The moment that sack had been yanked off, under a clear blue sky—

“Rodella!”

Him.

—Clang!

He had called her name, and before she even saw his face, she saw his back turning.

A back that brought with it both the surreal feeling of reality and overwhelming relief.

Rodella’s eyes shot open.

The enemy’s blade shattered, and shards flew through the air.

But not a single piece touched Rodella’s body.

Under the sunset sky, golden hair glimmered.

It was just like that day.

Even the way she felt relieved just from seeing that back.

The looming shadows that had been upon her were suddenly hurled far away.

—Thud!

Aivert had kicked the man and taken him down, lowering his stance to protect her.

‘I wonder what kind of expression you’re making.

‘But… I don’t want to see it.

‘I’m scared to see it.

‘I’m scared to find out how much I’ve made you worry.’

‘More than anything… I’m sorry.’

‘Just like that day.’

‘Back then, I was lying down, and you were looking down at me under the sky, worried.’

‘Yes, it was you back then too.’

When the sack had been ripped off after everything quieted down—he had been the one she saw.

Now, his face came into focus again.

“…!”

She heard him say something.

The difference from that day was—his voice now seemed to blur around her.

People were moving around busily, and soon the carriage door nearby was opened.

“The head… this place…”

Voices faded in and out.

Every time her mind swayed, so did their words.

She had to tell them what she’d heard earlier.

“Tonight… at eight…”

She wasn’t even sure if her voice was coming out.

Speaking made her throat move—and the pain was blinding.

It felt like a jagged saw was slicing through her neck.

Her consciousness plunged like a rock to the depths.

Still—she had to say it.

“…Black flag… ship…”

Her words and thoughts were falling apart. Her mind spun.

Then Aivert brought a handkerchief to her throat.

“Don’t speak anymore.”

His voice, though relatively clear, sounded like it was trembling—was it because he was trembling, or because she was?

She wanted to look at his face in detail, but her vision no longer allowed it.

There was noise in the surroundings, and something cold was pressed to her neck.

No—her neck was getting cold.

Ice magic?

“Blood…”

She wanted to ask how much there was, but Aivert placed his finger on her lips.

As if telling her not to say anything more.

Maybe that’s why. Maybe it was because he touched her—or maybe because her neck had gone so numb from cold it now felt hot.

“I… feel warm.”

It should be cold.

Her neck was cold. Her body was cold. So if he touched her, it should feel cold.

Especially since he was holding an ice magic artifact to her skin—his hand couldn’t possibly be warm.

But wherever he touched, it felt warm.

“Fever?”

As her vision darkened even more, she felt Aivert press his hand to her forehead.

Rodella wanted to shake her head—but she couldn’t.

‘No—it’s not a fever.’

‘It’s just that… wherever you touch, it’s warm.’

‘And somehow…’

‘I like that better than the cold.’

‘Because now, I finally feel alive.’

Those words never made it out of her mouth.

Rodella’s consciousness faded to black.

The moment Aivert arrived at the scene, he saw Rodella being threatened with a dagger.

After that, he couldn’t even remember how he got there.

That damn cultist had raised a dagger to strike her down.

—Crack!

Aivert blocked the blow with his arm, twisted the dagger’s path, and kicked the man away.

But Rodella had already suffered deep wounds to her arm and neck.

“Lord Aivert, the artifact—quickly!”

The Royden knights behind him hurried to hand over an ice magic artifact.

It was a battlefield-grade healing tool, used for those losing too much blood.

It didn’t fully stop the bleeding—but it was better than letting it gush out.

—Crunch!

Ice magic gathered the surrounding moisture, congealed the bleeding areas, and froze them.

The bleeding lessened—but her face was already pale.

“Black flag…”

Rodella kept murmuring the same phrase.

Aivert placed a finger on her lips again—and bit down on his own.

Her consciousness was sinking—fast and deep.

“……”

In the golden light of sunset, her tear streaks shone vividly.

Aivert bit his lip hard.

“Are you confident?”

“Do you think I’d let her get hurt?”

He had said he would protect her.

He’d been so sure of himself.

He knew that assigning her to the Azure Knights during the political battle over the Chancellor’s seat had been the safest move for her.

But moments like this drove him mad.

Royden?

The infamous dark noble family that half the empire feared?

He didn’t care about any of that.

What use was any of it, if he couldn’t protect the one person he loved?

Even if it had been a surprise attack—he couldn’t forgive himself.

He had made up his mind—after that carriage crash on the day of her graduation—to become the head of Royden.

Because he wanted to protect Rodella. Just her.

But what had changed between then and now?

“If we had been just a little later, it could have been fatal…”

The man who approached him was Baron Vinrad, Aivert’s uncle.

Everyone else around them also looked visibly relieved.

“If we get her to a hospital quickly, she’ll be okay.”

If it hadn’t been so urgent to move her, Aivert might not have been able to move at all.

Because to him, it already was too late.

Rodella… she had really been crying, just like that day.

He should’ve come before she got scared. Before she cried.

“…Move her to Lenaris. As quickly as possible.”

He turned to leave.

Of course, everyone assumed he would go with her to Lenaris.

Even Baron Vinrad, who knew him well, looked startled.

“My lord?”

“I’m heading west.”

At that moment, heading west could mean only one thing:

The head of Royden himself was going to take matters into his own hands.

After years of suppressing his true nature—

He was finally about to explode.

“…!”

Realizing what that meant, the Royden retainers all widened their eyes in shock.