Chapter 6

Halo, who had returned after seeing Isabelle off, found Ran standing by the window, seemingly watching until the carriage became nothing more than a dot in the distance and vanished.

“Did you see her off safely?”

“Yes, Your Highness. But… was it truly all right to send her away like this?”

At the question asked while Ran’s eyes remained fixed outside the window, Halo inquired back with a worried tone.

“For now, she is safer by the Marquis’ side, so there was no other choice.”

“Her complexion did not look well. She surely must have misunderstood.”

“Undoubtedly.”

Ran murmured gloomily, gazing down the road where even the tail end of the carriage was no longer visible. The gentle look in his eyes as he recalled Isabelle turned fierce. A deep darkness settled into his blue eyes, which had been as serene as a summer stream.

“Shall we go clean up now? Are the preparations made?”

“Everything is complete.”

At Halo’s answer, Ran wore a chilly smile. Stepping alongside him as he walked with long, heavy strides, Halo asked cautiously:

“Will you not use that power this time either?”

“Indeed. The promise has not been broken yet, so a sword is more than enough without resorting to that.”

“Well, that is true.”

“However… using it on things that are not alive is a different story.”

Ran murmured softly, twisting the corners of his lips into a smirk. Contrary to his smiling mouth, his expressionless blue eyes glared fiercely at a single spot before turning away as if instantly losing interest.

Halo looked down at the sword hanging from Ran’s waist. As he had said, a blade alone was more than sufficient.

During the war over the past three years, Ran had cut down the barbarians and earned his military merit using solely his own swordsmanship, without relying on magic power. Thanks to that, the number of people who knew he could wield magic could be counted on one hand.

If it were revealed that the Crown Prince possessed magic power, it would cause a massive uproar.

The imperial family of the Grand Empire inherited the blood of the Gold Dragon. Their brilliant golden hair served as proof. Among them, imperial family members with magic power were occasionally born as well. However, unlike the early days of the empire’s founding—when imperial bloodlines capable of using magic were easily found—their numbers gradually dwindled over generations.

Neither the current King nor the late King’s generation had a single magic-wielding imperial royal. In such a climate, an imperial royal possessing magic power would be deemed closer to the throne than anyone else. Though he had risen to the position of Crown Prince, his status as the Second Prince without a powerful backing was not yet secure. The First Prince and the Empress were still constantly eyeing the Crown Prince’s seat.

Halo could not understand why he chose such a difficult path when simply revealing his magic power would solve so much, but he did not utter his thoughts aloud.

Looking at his master’s golden hair, which seemed to gleam especially cold today, he silently followed behind. Ran’s feet came to a halt only after they had descended deep into the underground. He stood before a particular door.

“Open it.”

At Ran’s command, the guard standing watch before the door hurriedly unlocked the hanging padlock. As the door swung open, noises that had been unheard until now came pouring out of the room.

Signaling Halo with a glance to wait outside, Ran stepped inside, and the open door clicked shut. The moment it did, the cascading noise vanished entirely, as if it had all been an illusion.

Only the sound of the guard’s and Halo’s breathing and heartbeats echoed through the hallway.

Soundproofing magic. Since returning to the Imperial Palace, Ran appropriately utilized his abilities, so long as he didn’t use them on living beings.

The identity of the person inside that room was something that must never leak out.

Halo clenched his trembling fists, thinking he had better serve his terrifying master with utmost devotion. As the door shut with a snap, the sounds trapped within echoed inside the cramped room.

“Do you think you’ll get away with this?!”

Ludwig, tied to a chair, growled in a voice that had turned thoroughly hoarse in just half a day from screaming so much. At his words, Ran let out a soft chuckle.

“And if I don’t get away with it?”

“Untie me this instant!”

Unlike the composed Ran, Ludwig was in a state of utter frenzy. Frosty blue eyes stared intently at Ludwig—eyes of the same blue hue as his own, yet a shade darker and cloudier. Once upon a time, Ran had wished for affection toward himself to flow in those eyes. Truly, once upon a time.

Ran’s cold gaze passed Ludwig’s blue eyes and fixated on his thoroughly disheveled golden hair.

“If you were going to pull foolish stunts, you should have directed them only at me, brother.”

“F-Foolish stunts? I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Unlike his voice that called out ‘Brother’ softly, his gaze was as sharp and fierce as a blade. As the menacing aura grew heavier, Ludwig instinctively shrank back, consumed by an urge surging from deep within to hide anywhere away from that piercing stare; bound to the chair, however, he could not move as he wished.

Trying desperately to feign composure to hide his trembling face, Ludwig began yelling again for him to untie him.

“Ah. So last night was merely a light stroll to you, then.”

“Last night… Y-Yes, I was merely taking a stroll! Untie this right now!”

“I see. A stroll. I, too, am fond of them. However, when taking a stroll, one must be mindful of one’s surroundings. For instance, ensuring one does not wander into places one shouldn’t go, or run into people one shouldn’t meet.”

Tilting his head slightly with a look of regret as if stating the obvious, Ran drawled his words slowly before stepping forward, bringing his face right up to his brother’s—whose complexion had turned pitiful in just half a day.

The ends of his handsome lips curled upward, revealing white teeth between lips that looked chillingly red today. Feeling as though those teeth might tear into his neck at any moment, cold sweat poured down Ludwig’s back.

Gulping down dry saliva, Ran chuckled softly and whispered low into his ear. At the voice dripping with clear amusement, the man’s body shuddered involuntarily.

“Why didn’t you just keep living like a dog in heat as you always have? Things would have been so nice then. Hmm?”

When Ran raised his head, his expression looked no different from usual, but Ludwig had turned deathly pale. The eyes looking up at him while trembling violently held a trace of anger.

“I-I am your older brother. And I am Ludwig Haren de Grand, First Prince of the Empire!”

“Yes, I am well aware, brother.”

He had merely tried to mess with the woman the bastard was hiding as a small revenge for having the Crown Prince’s seat stolen by a fellow who had suddenly returned. Had he known he would end up in a life-threatening situation because of that woman, he wouldn’t have even attempted it.

Though he had been worried, he hadn’t believed his brother would truly harm his own blood over a mere wench. After all, the memory of that bastard begging him for affection was still vivid in his mind.

Ludwig swallowed his fear, nodding to himself in a desperate effort to reassure his mind.

“Y-Yes! I am your brother. Yet you speak of taking my life over a mere wench… y-you must be joking, right? Isn’t that so, Feiran?”

“A mere wench, you say. What entertaining nonsense you spew.”

Though he appeared to laugh pleasantly, the aura surrounding Ran began to turn violent. A pitch-black, rage-filled dark energy that seemed ready to explode at any second swept through the narrow room.

“I happen to despise people touching what is mine. Even so, since we share half our blood, I intended to let you live out your life quietly if you stayed obedient.”

Razor-sharp hostility brushed over Ludwig’s skin, leaving faint shallow cuts. Shuddering under Ran’s energy as it toyed with him as if this were merely the beginning, Ludwig trembled violently.

“I-I will stay quiet! As long as you possess magic power, the throne is yours anyway. I no longer have any desire for the position of Crown Prince!”

Though he had believed until now that such a thing would never happen, the terror that his assumption was dead wrong… that he might truly die… began to consume Ludwig.

In truth, he had not given up his lingering attachment to the throne, but he was willing to tell any lie if it meant escaping this place. Trying desperately not to let his inner thoughts show on his face, Ludwig did his utmost to look pitiful.

“How truly amusing.”

“Huh?”

Seeing Ran burst into loud laughter as if it were genuinely hilarious, Ludwig was flustered. He couldn’t fathom what could possibly be so funny.

“Ah, my foolish brother. You still don’t realize what the real problem is.”

Wiping the laugh from his face, Ran stared at Ludwig with a expression that had turned ice-cold once more. Startled by the sudden shift, Ludwig tried to rethink what had gone wrong, but before he could find an answer, he was left gasping for air from the hand tightening around his throat.

“If you hadn’t tried to do something to her—whom you just coincidentally happened to run into on that stroll of yours—you could have lived a much more comfortable life.”

“N-No… *ghk*… I didn’t… a-anything…”

“Indeed. You didn’t do anything. Not yet.”

“Hng… urgh!”

“However, I intend to clean up anything that could pose a threat to her. No matter who it is.”

Ran slowly loosened his grip on the throat. Coughing and wheezing, Ludwig greedily gasped for missing air. Gazing down at him indifferently, Ran turned his steps, leaving behind what sounded like a final sentence:

“I have no intention of letting you go comfortably. Since you dared to target her, you must pay the fitting price.”

“Ran! Feiran! You motherfucker! Where are you going?! You have to untie me!”

Gasping for rough breaths, Ludwig barely pulled himself together and screamed profanities. Yet, the moment the door shut, not a single bit of that harsh voice leaked outside. Heavy silence enveloped the hallway once more.

Ran started walking back the way he came without looking back at the closed door even once. Unlike Ran, Halo lingered his gaze on the shut door for a moment. But at the sound of Ran calling him, he snapped out of it and moved his feet in a hurry.

“Halo.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Dispose of him. Ah! Since his personal taste in pleasure was quite unique, it would be fitting to treat him just the way he liked.”

“Yes, I shall carry out your command.”

Holding a lingering, cold smile, Ran vanished with quick strides once he finished speaking. Left behind, Halo let out a heavy sigh.

Last night, taking advantage of the brief moment Ran had stepped away, an intruder had broken into Isabelle’s bedroom. Naturally, most had been handled by the guards posted outside, but Ran—returning just in time—personally slaughtered the remaining intruders. A chaotic event had transpired last night while Isabelle was fast asleep, blissfully unaware.

The identity of the intruder was exposed all too easily. They had surely slipped in without fear simply because they didn’t realize how much Ran cherished Isabelle. Had they known—no, had they known what their end would look like—they wouldn’t have even attempted it.

The intruders were First Prince Ludwig and his shadow guards. On the spot, Ran had dragged Ludwig away, locked him in this underground dungeon, and sealed all sounds from within using soundproofing magic. Unlike Ludwig who was caged inside, his shadow guards had met a gruesome end last night.

At first, Halo had thought it was the Empress’ doing. The Empress had still not given up on putting her own son on the throne, sending assassins after Ran at every opportunity. He had assumed her blade had shifted from Ran to Isabelle, who was rumored to be his cherished one.

Though the guards and maids in his palace were handpicked by Ran himself, they still couldn’t be trusted completely. After all, the Empress’s influence—having held the Imperial Palace in the palm of her hand for so long—was not something to be dismissed.

Although the culprit who attacked Isabelle turned out to be Ludwig rather than the Empress, Ran had decided to send her away from the palace.

For now, while the cleanup remained incomplete, he judged that the Marquis’ townhouse—where Marquis Worel and the knights he personally trained resided—was safer.

Ran had not explained the sudden decision to Isabelle. Even instructing Halo to convey words that carried ample room for misunderstanding was done to protect her, knowing how many hidden ears lingered within the palace.

“Oh, my head… All the headache-inducing chores fall to me.”

Halo clutched his head and muttered.

The Empress was one thing, but thinking about First Prince Ludwig locked in the underground room gave him a headache.

Had he just stayed quiet instead of acting up, he could have lived out his life locked away in some remote fief granted after Feiran’s ascension. Or at least, he could have met a clean death fitting for an imperial royal. But that rowdy scoundrel of a First Prince had touched the one thing he shouldn’t have.

To dispose of him quietly—and in the exact manner the Crown Prince desired—there was much work to be done.

Clearing his chaotic thoughts, Halo moved busily.

***

The next day, two astonishing pieces of news spread throughout the capital.

The first was that the Crown Prince would be hosting an engagement announcement ball.

Though not much time had passed since the Victory Celebration Ball, the capital was abuzz once again at the news of another ball being held at the Imperial Palace.

What made it even more remarkable was that it was an engagement announcement ball directly arranged by the Crown Prince himself—a man who had kept his face thoroughly hidden from the world and hadn’t even shown himself at the victory celebration.

With the Crown Prince’s influence growing stronger than that of the Emperor, who lived in near-total seclusion due to illness, it was only natural for all attention to focus on the identity of his fiancée, the future Crown Princess.

The second piece of news was the death of the First Prince, Ludwig. While the death of a member of the imperial family was shocking in itself, the surrounding rumors were almost too dreadful to utter.

Though the imperial family attempted to cover it up, Ludwig had died of an aphrodisiac overdose. And the rumor spread from mouth to mouth starting from the person who had recovered his body.

The man who recovered the corpse blabbered while drunk that the deceased First Prince had been found completely naked and bound in ropes, calling it an unspeakably shameful sight.

Though the Empress tried belatedly to contain the rumors, Ludwig’s scandal had already crossed everyone’s lips.

Had anyone else been found tied in ropes and dead, people would have assumed they were kidnapped and murdered by a vicious killer; however, anyone who knew anything was well aware that the First Prince derived pleasure from perverted and sadistic acts.

His indiscriminate taste in both men and women had also been the subject of gossip on numerous occasions.

Since he had nearly met his end in similar ways several times before, most people didn’t think much of the incident. His death seemed only a natural consequence of his past behavior. Though it would be remembered as the most disgraceful event for an imperial royal, no one felt pity for him.

***

While the entire capital was turbulent over the Crown Prince’s engagement and the First Prince’s death, the Marquis’ household had no time to spare for rumors. Their young lady, who had returned after disappearing for a week, was buried in deep sorrow.

Invitations to parties large and small piled up daily before Isabelle. Yet, citing her health, Isabelle declined every single one and remained locked in her room, causing endless worry among the servants.

At best, she would go for a light stroll whenever Lady Elena visited. However, after Elena left, Isabelle would invariably return to sitting silently by the window, lost in deep thought. Furthermore, when night fell, her pillow would be thoroughly drenched, as if she had cried her heart out.

Three days from now was Isabelle’s nineteenth birthday. Yet, because it overlapped with the engagement announcement ball hosted by the Crown Prince, a separate party could not even be held.

By tradition, a ball would be thrown on the eve of a birthday so that one could receive congratulations from the invited guests at midnight. However, the Crown Prince’s engagement announcement ball was set for the night before Isabelle’s birthday. No matter how powerful the Empire’s sole Marquisate was, they could not ignore an imperial ball to host a private birthday party.

“Belle, why don’t you come with me right now to look at dresses?”

“No, I’m fine. I can just wear one of the dresses I already have.”

“Still, it’s an imperial ball…”

“Ellie, the ball is tomorrow. Even if we go out now, there won’t be any dresses left.”

Worried about Isabelle staying cooped up in her room, Elena had come to visit. Upon learning that Isabelle hadn’t prepared a thing—let alone gotten a dress fitted for the ball—Elena tried to persuade her to go pick one out together even now, but Isabelle shook her head.

It was a party meant for his fiancée. No matter how beautifully she dressed, she wouldn’t be able to stand by his side, so nothing held any meaning for Isabelle. Though she knew Elena was staring at her as if pleading for an explanation for her faint, resigned smile, Isabelle didn’t know what to say.

She could hardly confess that she had been staying in the Imperial Palace for the past week as the Crown Prince’s mistress.

“Belle, if you don’t want to tell me, I won’t force you. But I hope you’ll tell me someday.”

“Yeah, Ellie. I will. I’m sorry.”

Elena’s hands were warm as she clasped hers gently without pressing further. Attempting to change the mood, Elena complained endlessly about her second older brother, who was always getting into trouble, before recommending her eldest brother once again as an escort for tomorrow’s ball. However, Isabelle quietly shook her head.

“My father has decided to escort me this time.”

“Ah, I heard the Marquis arrived in the capital a short while ago. So he’s attending this ball.”

“Yes. So don’t worry about an escort.”

Remarking with a smile that there was nothing to worry about for this ball if the Marquis was attending, Elena drank another cup of tea and took her leave to prepare for tomorrow’s ball.

Isabelle had no desire to attend a ball introducing his fiancée. Yet she smiled bitterly at the realization that without such an imperial event, she wouldn’t even have the chance to see Ran anymore.

Over the past few days, her dreams had become longer and more detailed. Beside her younger self, Ran was always there.

Just in case, she had asked her nanny, but the woman replied that there had been no young boy at the Marquis’s castle in the North. Looking bewildered, the nanny had asked what she was talking about, saying My Lady had always played alone. The nanny didn’t seem to be lying. Isabelle had considered asking her father, but she soon shook her head.

To speak of the dreams, she would also have to speak of what had happened over the past week.

Was it truly just a dream? It felt strange to call it a precognitive dream as she had initially thought. If it were a precognitive dream, it wouldn’t be showing her scenes from her childhood. In that case, was it merely a fantasy created by her subconscious after meeting Crown Prince Ran?

Though she felt certain that the Crown Prince knew something, unfortunately, she would no longer be able to meet Ran in private.

‘Perhaps I will never know the truth…’

Isabelle recalled the past few days she had spent with him with a somber face.

It had only been a week. Yet Ran’s presence had somehow become her everything.

She missed him dearly. Isabelle tried to sleep, thinking bitterly that it was a relief she could at least meet him in her dreams.

***

The ball was set for the evening, but preparations had begun in the early hours of the dawn. Servants with unfamiliar faces were mixed in, helping with the arrangements. Isabelle had not noticed at first, but catching sight of the maid applying oil to her hair through the mirror, her body froze in sheer bewilderment.

“How are you here?”

“His Highness sent us to assist with My Lady’s dressing.”

“What?”

The maid answering in a composed voice was undeniably one of the servants who had attended to her during her stay at the palace.

He had sent her to help with her dressing? Why? Isabelle’s eyes filled with confusion.

“Bring the head maid to me.”

“Yes, My Lady.”

She wanted to run to her father immediately and ask if he knew about this. However, having been summoned by the Emperor in the early morning and rushed into the palace, she would only be able to see him once she reached the entrance of the ballroom.

The head maid appeared before Isabelle, looking as though she had rushed over in haste.

“My Lady, I heard you called for me.”

“Yes. I noticed some unfamiliar maids today. I was wondering if my father is aware of this.”

“Yes, My Lady. The Marquis personally instructed before leaving this morning that the maids who arrived at dawn should attend to you. Is there a problem?”

“No. You may return to your duties.”

‘Father personally gave the order?’

Knowing that they were sent from the palace, was that why he had entered the imperial palace at dawn? Isabelle fell into deep thought.

Looking closely, besides the maid styling her hair, there were several other familiar faces. He was the man who hadn’t even shown his face when sending her back to the Marquis’ estate—hadn’t he merely sent his aide as if he had no further business with her? Yet sending maids to help her prepare for the engagement announcement ball… What could this mean?

Isabelle, who had remained silent, lost in thought, finally opened her mouth after seeing the dress and jewels the maids brought in. It was a pure white dress that sparkled as if sprinkled with stars, draped in sweeping golden embroidery. As far as her memory served, she had no recollection of ever having such a dress made.

Was that all? The diamond necklace—a breathtaking sight that drew gasps of admiration just looking at it—was something she was seeing for the very first time in her life.

“I have never seen these before…”

“We were instructed that you must adorn yourself with these today.”

Mindful of the Marquisate’s servants, the maid did not explicitly state a name, but it was undeniably sent by the Crown Prince.

Was this compensation for those past nights? Was this his way of telling her to take these and step aside, now that he was welcoming a Crown Princess?

Isabelle bit her lip, feeling a surge of tears about to burst.

‘Very well. If that is what you wish, I shall adorn myself in what you sent. I will go dressed more beautifully than anyone else.’

Isabelle clenched her fists, her eyes gleaming with a cool intensity. Then, as a thought struck her, she called her nanny over, who was standing nearby, and whispered softly into her ear. Though the nanny hesitated with a worried look, Isabelle urged her out the door to hurry and return.

When Isabelle, who had briefly refused to dress upon seeing the outfit, seemed to finish her thoughts and gave a nod, the maids—fitting for servants of the Imperial Palace—began to adorn her quickly and flawlessly once more.

The dress fit Isabelle’s body perfectly, without a single hair’s breath of error. Her red hair was swept up and adorned with a golden butterfly encrusted with diamonds, then dusted with powder crushed from precious gems.

With her dress exposing her shoulders, sweeping her hair up made her delicate neck stand out even more. Around her graceful, deer-like neck hung the diamond necklace sent by the Crown Prince. As opulent as it was, the necklace carried considerable weight. Isabelle’s gaze flickered slightly as she looked down at the necklace boasting its heavy presence.

More than the extravagant necklace, she cared far more about his traces, which had entirely vanished over the past few days without a single mark remaining. It had all vanished as if it had been nothing more than a dream.

‘Right here is where the marks he left used to be.’

Her trembling fingertips lightly brushed the nape of her neck where the necklace rested, a bitter smile gracing her lips. It was a meaningless thought now.

Though they had been bustling about since dawn, dusk was falling by the time all preparations were complete. It was nearly time to set off. Given the Marquisate’s high standing, they would enter later than other nobles, but delaying any further meant they might arrive later than the Crown Prince’s entrance.

Not long after Isabelle began gazing at the door with a worried expression, it swung open, bringing the long-awaited news.

***

As Isabelle entered the ballroom, all eyes were drawn to her. It was partly due to the stunningly ornate gown she wore, but primarily because of the man escorting her.

“Oh my goodness, Lord Jerome is her escort!”

“He’s been the subject of countless rumors, but has he ever escorted anyone to a ball before?”

Upon receiving the dress sent by the Crown Prince, Isabelle had urgently dispatched her nanny to the Count’s Manor. She needed to ask one of Elena’s brothers to escort her. She felt guilty, but it didn’t matter which of them agreed.

After all, this was all for him to see. It was a childish attempt to prove that she, too, could find someone else to take his place.

As she entered the ballroom on Jerome’s arm, whispers that betrayed her true intentions rippled through the crowd. But Isabelle had no time to heed them.

Shortly after she stepped into the hall, an attendant’s voice announced the Crown Prince’s arrival.

Gasps of admiration erupted from those seeing him unmasked for the first time.

He had grown even more handsome in the few days since she’d last seen him. His golden hair, more brilliant than she remembered, shimmered under the chandelier’s light.

His blue eyes swept across the ballroom, coming to rest on Isabelle. When their gazes met, she flinched.

“Lady Isabelle, are you alright?”

“Yes? Oh, yes. I-I’m fine.”

Though Jerome asked her with concern from the side, Isabelle couldn’t tear her eyes away from Ran, who was staring at her. She couldn’t understand why he was looking at her with such a terrifying expression. He was the one who had coldly sent her away. Biting the inside of her cheek, Isabelle barely suppressed her surging emotions, glared at him once, and then turned her head away.

She could feel Ran’s gaze clinging to her, binding her as if it were a physical shackle. If she kept meeting his eyes any longer, she felt she would burst into tears. So, Isabelle turned her back to him completely and began to stare blankly at the vases and other decorations adorning the ballroom.

The surrounding crowd grew noisy, but Isabelle was too busy trying to calm her own heart. Beside her, she felt Lord Jerome flinch. At the same time, a familiar voice spoke from just a few steps away.

“Will you step aside?”

“Y-yes?”

Lord Jerome’s voice, laced with confusion, made me turn around with a sinking feeling. There he stood. His black uniform, tailored to his powerful frame, was intricately embroidered with gold thread that perfectly matched the color of his hair.

His blue eyes, fixed on Jerome, shone with a chill that evoked the ice of midwinter. The crooked curl of his lips betrayed his displeasure.

But as his gaze shifted to me, the icy stare thawed into a soft, gentle curve, like a spring breeze. A tender smile touched his firm lips. And then, he spoke the unbelievable words.

“Away from my fiancée, if you please.”

“…”

Isabelle was utterly stunned by his words. The same went for Jerome, who stood beside her, and the surrounding nobles. His bombshell declaration sent a wave of commotion through the crowd, but Isabelle was so focused on the man before her that the surrounding whispers were completely drowned out.

Her wide eyes saw only Ran, who was gazing back at her with a tender smile.

“Belle. Come here.”

Ran gently tugged the hand of the dazed Isabelle, who had been staring blankly at him, and pulled her into his arms, wrapping his hand around her waist.

“F-fiancée? Me?”

As she was pulled into his embrace, the familiar scent that drifted to her nose finally snapped her back to her senses. When Isabelle looked up at him and whispered, he narrowed his eyes slightly and murmured into her ear.

“Who else could it be but you?”

Isabelle stared at Ran, her expression one of utter disbelief. He chuckled softly and pressed a light kiss to her cheek, then gently guided her forward. She found herself standing before the Emperor, who was attending a ball for the first time in ages, to offer her greetings.

Even as the Emperor introduced her to the assembled nobles as his future Crown Princess Consort, she still couldn’t believe it.

Dazed, she followed Ran’s lead, moving here and there without fully knowing why. She wanted to demand an explanation for everything, but there was simply no opportunity. Then, as if she had lost consciousness, her memory suddenly cut out.

Blinking slowly, she took in her surroundings and realized she was in bed.

‘Am I dreaming?’

Isabelle pushed herself up and surveyed the room with a vacant gaze. Familiar objects came into view—this was the room she had been staying in for the past few days. The mere fact that she recognized her surroundings brought a wave of relief.

She carefully retraced her steps, recalling the moments that had just unfolded. She remembered Ran lifting her into his arms as she had been disoriented.

‘Where did he go?’

Even though she now understood how she had ended up back in her own room, the sudden realization of his absence sent her heart pounding with an inexplicable anxiety. Just as she was about to get out of bed to find him, the distant tolling of the midnight bell echoed through the air.

As the sound faded into the distance, memories began to surge back into her mind like a tidal wave. Just as one would drown in a violent sea, Isabelle found herself unable to breathe, overwhelmed by the sudden torrent of recollections.

Her initial confusion, caused by the jumbled rush of memories that left her no room to breathe, was brief. As time passed, the questions that had plagued her began to resolve, one by one, as if a fog were lifting.

The memories fell into place, as if an invisible hand were swiftly assembling a scattered puzzle.

What she had thought was a dream now came back to her with the clarity of yesterday’s events. Even details she hadn’t seen in the dream surfaced vividly. One moment, she was in her bedroom; the next, with a blink, she was in a pitch-black cave. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood. Turning her head, she saw Ran, coughing up blood.

“No! Ran! Ran!”

“Belle, I’m here. Pull yourself together.”

As she cried out his name, he was already there, holding her in his arms. The metallic scent of blood that had filled her nostrils just moments ago vanished without a trace.

The metallic scent of cold iron vanished, replaced by his fresh, crisp fragrance that evoked the blue sea.

As she pulled away from his embrace and blinked, the familiar room she had seen moments before came back into focus. The sight of him bleeding must have been a hallucination; Ran stood beside her, as pristine and polished as he had been at the ballroom.

“The… the blood…”

“It’s alright. See? I’m not hurt anywhere.”

Isabelle’s breath came in ragged gasps as she reached out with a trembling hand to touch his face.

‘He’s warm. He’s not cold.’

As she rested her hand on his cheek in relief, tears streaming down her face, Ran placed his own hand over hers. With another blink, the tears clinging to her eyelashes fell away. The lingering memories slowly erased the distorted afterimages, filling the void with the truth.

“Ran. Is it really you, Ran?”

“Yes, I’m your Ran.”

The voice whispering in her ear was tender and warm.

“Ah… Ran. My Ran…”

“Yes, I’ve finally returned to you,” Ran answered with a gentle smile.

“You won’t ever leave my side again, will you?”

“No. I promised, my Young Lady.”

As Ran whispered softly, Isabelle burst into the tears she had been holding back, clinging to him in his embrace. Stroking her back, Ran recalled the memory of that day—the one he never wanted to remember again.

Unlike usual, it was a light outing with just the two of them, having given their guards the slip.

When they first set out, he had never imagined he would come to deeply regret ditching those guards that day.

Deep within the secluded forest they entered to spend a quiet moment together, they ran straight into assassins dispatched by the Empress.

Though he managed to defeat more than half of them on his own, Isabelle was gravely injured in a split second.

It was a time when he could not fully use his magic power.

The magic power that had suddenly manifested was unstable and far too potent. He was striving to control it and make it his own, yet it would not obey his will perfectly. Barely finding an opening, they managed to throw off the assassins and slipped into a cave.

There was nothing he could do now except wait for the guards to find them.

He felt utterly powerless. At the fact that he failed to protect the girl he had vowed to keep by his side and cherish for the rest of his life—letting her get hurt instead—Ran gritted his teeth in sheer despair. Yet, he had no time to wallow in despair.

If they stayed like this, Isabelle was in mortal danger. Gathering what remained of his magic power, he treated her wounds. While magic could not cure illnesses, physical trauma, fortunately, could be healed to some extent. Though he had to cross the threshold of death himself to save her, he held no regrets.

Upon regaining consciousness, Isabelle quickly realized what had happened when she saw him suddenly coughing up dark blood. Crying hot tears, she pleaded with him never to use magic on living beings again.

Contrary to popular belief, the magic power of the imperial bloodline was not infinite. Using magic on living creatures rather than inanimate objects whittled away at his very life force, bit by bit, depending on the scale. Knowing well what she was worried about, he agreed. The reality that relying blindly on magic had nearly cost him her life drove him to become even stronger.

His already outstanding marksmanship with the sword improved noticeably after that incident. Furthermore, the magic power that had been so untamable was now something he could command with ease. Even so, the Empress’ assassination attempts continued relentlessly in the meantime.

Anyone could see that she would never stop until she was certain he was dead. Thus, he had no choice but to make a decision.

He had to send her to the safety of the capital and make it appear as though she no longer had anything to do with him. Then, he had to divert the Empress’s gaze elsewhere. Just in time, barbarians crossed the border and drew near the Marquis’s fief.

Three years. That would be time enough to gather strength and secure his footing. After discussing it with the Marquis, he erased and altered her memories so that she would recall everything once she reached her nineteenth birthday.

Just in case, he even had to alter the memories of the surrounding servants who would follow her to the capital. As expected, once Ran began to distinguish himself on the battlefield, the Empress seemed to lack the leeway to spare any thought for Isabelle.

Even amidst fighting the barbarians, he had to dispose of the assassins sent by the Empress, but as long as Isabelle was safe, that much was no trouble at all. And now, the wait was over. She was finally, entirely within his grasp.

Holding Isabelle in his arms, Ran smiled brightly. The gaze lingering intently as he licked away her tear-stained eye corners deepened.

Though she had been so close over the past week, he had been unable to see her. Having endured three years, his patience had run dry in just a single week. Passing over her eye corners, cheeks, earlobes, and trembling chin, his plump tongue parted her red lips and breached inside. Sweeping across the roof of her mouth and gently rubbing her even teeth and gums, his tongue gradually began to turn rough.

Sucking so fiercely as if to pull her tongue out by its roots, Isabelle groaned and gasped for breath.

When she writhed in pain, he coaxed her, soothed her, and swallowed her whole again, his tongue moving as if demanding compensation for all he had endured this past week. At the same time, his hands moved swiftly, stripping away the dress wrapping Isabelle’s body.

The dress that three maids had clung to all day to adorn was getting thoroughly rumpled under Ran’s ruthless touch, but to the two of them, such things mattered not in the slightest.

“It faded.”

“Ah… R-Ran… hng.”

Biting into her pulsing neck and lapping it up with his tongue erect, Ran murmured in dissatisfaction before sucking strongly at her nape. It felt as though all the blood in her body was rushing to that single spot. Every time Ran’s breath and touch made contact, the surging heat left Isabelle’s head spinning.

Prying through her half-stripped undergarments, a large hand slipped inside and cupped her breast. As he kneaded the breast that more than filled his palm, the rounded chest distorted under Ran’s touch. The nipple rubbed against his palm stood starkly erect, poking into his palm. Pinching the hardened nipple between his fingers, he rubbed and twisted it at his fingertips.

“Ouch, it hurts… Ran! Ah!”

“Erect and trembling like this… doesn’t that mean you want me to touch you?”

“N-no… hng… it’s not that!”

The formal speech was dropped the moment Isabelle retrieved her memories. She slipped back into talking comfortably just as they used to, yet Isabelle herself hadn’t even noticed the change.

No, Isabelle didn’t even seem to realize that—unlike last week—she was addressing Ran with ease once again.

***

Except for the necklace and bracelet Ran had gifted her, not a single piece of cloth remained on her meltingly soft body. The hair that had taken hours to painstakingly sweep up was undone, spilling across the bedsheets.

Spread like embroidery over the duvet, her red hair resembled a beautifully flickering flame. Without even the presence of mind to cover her naked body, Isabelle lay there, exhaling flushed, heated breaths with her eyes closed, as Ran sat down beside her.

As the mattress dipped slightly with his movement, Isabelle gazed quietly at Ran through eyes unfocused and steeped in sweet heat.

Her mind was entirely blank, as if swept away by a violent storm. At a single touch or movement of Ran’s lips, Isabelle crumbled completely. Gazing up at Ran, who had not even taken off his jacket yet, he leaned down with a sinister smile.

“Here, and here too… faded away, I see. How disappointing.”

“Ah!”

As if meticulously branding her whole body all over again were not enough, he sought out the traces that had already vanished without a trace, raising the tip of his tongue to rub them anew and sucking lightly with his lips. Heat surged through Isabelle, making her curl her toes and writhe her body.

Tonight, Ran seemed intent only on bringing Isabelle to a fever pitch, without any intention of taking things further.

“Ran… hng.”

Even fully aware of her thoroughly drenched core, Ran refused to touch the place Isabelle craved—the spot burning with heat, desperately waiting for his touch.

As his moist, hot lips brushed against her inner thigh before withdrawing, Isabelle could no longer endure it; she grabbed Ran’s hand, her eyes brimming with tears.

Though she took his hand, she couldn’t bring herself to press it against her nether region, casting hesitant glances at him instead—a sight that brought a faint laugh to his lips. Feigning ignorance as he withdrew his hand, Ran gently stroked Isabelle’s lips with his fingertips.

“Why? Dissatisfied because I’m not doing it properly?”

“N-no… I don’t know.”

The hand that was caressing her lips moved to rub her plump earlobe, slowly descending along the delicate line of her face. Passing over her slender nape, it smoothly brushed across her fair, exposed chest.

Previously, he had touched her nipples so intensely she felt they might fall off, yet now his touch merely traced the rounded swell of her breasts without touching the tips, making her throat dry and driven to desperation.

“This is a punishment.”

“A punishment?”

Isabelle looked up at him with a puzzled gaze, as if asking what on earth she had done wrong to deserve such a penalty. Ran twitched his brow, then sat upright.

“A punishment for not waiting obediently and coming to the ball with another man.”

“B-but that was…”

“Now, my lady. I cannot stand the sight of another bastard touching what is mine. So, you must receive your punishment.”

“That’s mean. This is all because Ran…”

Isabelle had accepted Jerome’s escort only because Ran was holding an engagement announcement. Had he told her in advance that she was his fiancée so there would be no misunderstanding, none of this would have happened.

As if turning a deaf ear to her words, he pulled Isabelle’s body up to sit back against the headboard.

“Spread your legs.”

“Huh?”

She looked up at Ran with eyes still filled with a sense of injustice, but he simply stared at her silently, as if commanding her to hurry and do as she was told.

“Tonight, unless you take your punishment properly, I have no intention of giving you what you want. Are you still fine with that?”

“That’s absurd…”

Her body, already familiar with the ecstatic sensations he gave her, was crying out for him to insert his length inside. The body he had so painstakingly aroused was already at its absolute limit. Her lower mouth gaped and spilled fluid at the slightest stimulation, while her breasts clamored to be touched.

At his burning gaze, her body twitched, and wetness flowed from below once more. Catching sight of it, the corners of Ran’s eyes curved into a narrow slant.

“Now, good girl. Go on, spread them. So I can see Belle’s pink flesh clearly.”

Her face flushing at his softly whispered words, Isabelle swallowed hard and slowly spread her legs. Through the wide-open gap of her legs, the obscene passage craving his presence was exposed right before Ran’s eyes.

Seeing his blue eyes darken, a strange heat and confidence swelled within her chest despite her obvious embarrassment. Just the fact that he was staring at her loosely parted entrance made her arousal flow relentlessly like a broken faucet, soaking the bedsheets.

“Good girl. Now bring your hand down and touch it. You know where I was touching you, don’t you?”

Though her face burned, her hand descended between her legs according to his command. As her fingers touched the plump, swollen flesh, a sensual sensation made her exhale a hot breath.

“Here. You have to touch here.”

“Ah!”

When Ran overlapped his hand atop hers and rubbed, her hidden clitoris received the stimulation, causing her back to arch and her bountiful breasts to heave. Not missing the opening, Ran pushed the tips of Isabelle’s fingers inside.

“Ah… N-no…”

“Come, push them in deeper.”

Overlapped with Isabelle’s slender fingers, two of Ran’s fingers disappeared inside her passage. The moment their fingertips brushed against her inner walls, the trembling interior could be felt in its entirety. Forced down by Ran’s pressuring hand as she tried to pull away, her trapped fingers instead stirred and stimulated her inner walls.

“Ah… hng…”

Groans burst through her lips. She could distinctly feel the hot fluid drenching her fingertips, spilling outward to trickle down the cleft of her buttocks. The maddening sensation left her head spinning.

As if all the moisture in her entire body were draining downward, her lips turned bone-dry. To wet her dry lips, her plump, crimson tongue peeked out before disappearing again. Seeing her tongue slip out as if to tempt him, his gaze darkened even further.

Swallowing her parted, helpless lips whole with his mouth, he began to taste her dainty tongue. Stroking it gently before sucking so strongly it felt as if the root of her tongue would be pulled out, saliva trickled between their meeting lips, as though her mouth had never been dry at all. As if even that were too precious to waste, Ran extended his tongue to lick it all away.

Even while tracing her thoroughly wet lips with his tongue, his hand never ceased stirring inside Isabelle. Guiding her lingering fingers, he made her stimulate her depth as he desired. He could distinctly feel the body in his arms drowning in pleasure.

As he pulled his lips away, a silver thread stretched between them before snapping. Her hazy, unfocused eyes stared at Ran. Though his fingers had withdrawn, Isabelle’s fingers remained inside her. The sight of her inserting her own fingers into her passage was exceedingly obscene, and he thoroughly liked it.

It was a sight meant for his eyes only, one that no one else in the world would ever behold. Had he revealed the entirety of the vulgar desire boiling within him, this lovely lover of his might shrink back in shock and flee.

What would she say if she knew tonight was merely the beginning?

Ran wore a sensual smile as he pulled Isabelle’s fingers out.

Her hand was entirely drenched in the fluid that had flowed from her body. Inhaling the lustful yet sweet scent to his heart’s content, Ran meticulously licked her wet hand clean with his tongue. Rolling his tongue between her fingers to caress them, he did not leave behind a single drop of the water imbued with her scent.

“Now, what should I do for you? What do you want, Belle?”

“Haa… Ran…”

When he asked while taking her delicate fingers into his mouth and rolling his tongue, Isabelle looked up at him with resentful eyes and groaned.

“Tell me quickly. Come, what do you want?”

“Please… haa… put it in now. Please?”

Looking down at Isabelle, who was pleading with him to finally put his length inside, Ran curled the corners of his lips and whispered as if it were still not enough.

“What? What are you asking me to put in? Belle, you have to say it properly.”

“Ran, please.”

He pulled the tearful Isabelle up and laid her on her stomach. Grabbing her hips and lifting them upward, her dainty, folded entrance and her thoroughly aroused flesh twitching came into full view at a single glance. The lower half of his body, swollen as if ready to burst through his trousers at any moment, was in a state of extreme excitement. Yet, upon confirming Isabelle’s inner flesh, it swelled even further in size.

“N-no. Not this position…”

“I told you it’s a punishment. Now, spread them wide with both hands. I need to see if you’re wet enough on the inside.”

Catching Isabelle’s hands, Ran made her grasp her lifted buttocks. As she held her buttocks and pulled them outward, her flesh parted, revealing the folded inner walls within her pink depths. As if sensing his gaze, clear arousal trickled down her thighs, dripping onto the bed.

“My, my, dripping everywhere so carelessly.”

Clicking his tongue, he pressed his lips against her thigh, licking away the traces with his tongue to erase them. Moving upward, his lips settled right over her entrance.

Slurp, squelch.

Depraved, wet sounds filled the room. When she tried to release her hold on her buttocks, Ran’s hands covered hers, forcing her to spread wider.

As he sucked strongly with his lips, Isabelle trembled violently under a pleasure so intense it pierced her mind. Her toes curled involuntarily, and her grip on her hips tightened of its own accord. As Ran parted his lips, rubbing the tip of his tongue against her hardened clitoris and biting it lightly, Isabelle gasped, letting out high-pitched cries.

“Ah! Hng… Ran! Ah!”

Under the overwhelming pleasure, tears poured from Isabelle’s eyes. After his lips—which had greedily licked and toyed with the endlessly flowing fluid—finally pulled away, a moment later, a shaft as hot as a fireball drove straight inside at once, as if to pierce her through. Every time his blunt tip caught at her entrance before thrusting all the way to her root, Isabelle had to hold her breath, feeling as though her body were splitting in two.

Grabbing the waist of the staggering Isabelle, who kept sinking downward, Ran moved his hips back and forth at a rapid pace.

Her lush breasts rubbed against the duvet, stimulating her nipples.

“Belle, haa… you seem to feel it even more when I take you from behind. Haa. How is it?”

“Ah! N-no… haa!“

Each time Ran thrust into her, their movements grew more frantic. When he drove deeper, the sensation intensified until Isabelle could scarcely think.

The wet, filthy sounds were buried beneath Isabelle’s groans, nearly inaudible unless one listened closely.

Shifting his hands from her waist, Ran cupped her hardened breasts, lifting Isabelle’s body halfway up. Every time he pinched and rubbed her angry nipples, her twitching inner walls squeezed his shaft like mad.

A pleasure stormed through him alongside a tight, gripping sensation that felt as if his length might be sheared off. Yet as if even that were not enough, Ran used his remaining hand to part her bush and rub her clitoris.

“Haa… Belle, haa… Belle, damn it… You’re squeezing me crazy.”

“Ah… haa… st-stop…”

His roughened breath rained over Isabelle’s wet nape. Every time Ran dug deep within her, pleasure surged so intensely her entire body trembled, leaving her unable to form a single thought. Sinking his teeth into her red-marked nape, Ran accelerated his thrusts.

Suppressing the beastly instinct to go deeper, ever deeper inside Isabelle, Ran moved. Whether aware of his heart or not, Isabelle squeezed around his length as if trying to chew it to pieces. Gritting his teeth, veins stood out on his forehead.

He had intended to be gentler, but this lovely lady drained his patience to the bottom every single time. Swollen beyond comparison to before, his length moved in and out of her nether mouth with blinding speed.

“Ah… Belle… haa!”

“Ah…”

Reaching out, he turned the head of the breathlessly panting Isabelle and kissed her. It felt as though he would only be satisfied by thrusting his length into her from both above and below. He rolled his hips, pounding upward into her depths.

Parting their overlapping lips, he thrust his tongue inside, rolling and sucking it. Saliva mixed between them, trickling down the gap of their lips.

‘She is mine. Mine, whom I will never let go of again.’

Ran became a wildly thrashing beast, devouring Isabelle whole. No, it felt as though Isabelle were devouring him instead.

Withdrawing his length—swollen as if on the verge of ejaculating—for a brief moment, he laid Isabelle flat on the bed. Then, thrusting powerfully back into her still-open passage, he pressed his body over hers.

Isabelle instinctively wrapped her arms around Ran’s neck, clinging to him. Every time their bodies moved, their pubic hair rubbed together, and her breasts flattened against his hard chest. As his movements reached a crescendo, her pelvis spread to its absolute limit. Sweat poured from Ran’s body like rain.

His beautiful, sweat-drenched face looked down at Isabelle. Without knowing who sought whom first, their lips met. And when their bodies finally reached their limit, they tensed together as he released deep inside her. The world before her eyes flickered white and went blank.