Chapter 201

That wench’s treachery

Thea blinked at her superior’s sharp command.

“Pardon… what?”

“Did you not hear me?”

“N-No, it’s just…! But didn’t Your Highness say you liked those flowers?”

Despite her apprehension, Thea cautiously asked again. She vividly recalled the early days of Freesia’s arrival at the castle. During that time, her lady often rose at dawn, silently gazing at the thorn bushes over and over again.

As if she wished to forever lose herself in their scent.

“Thea.”

But this time, Freesia’s expression was utterly devoid of humor. Thea felt as though she had swallowed a shard of ice, her chest stinging.

“Do I look like someone who needs to explain every single reason behind what I want right now?”

“N-No, Your Highness! I-I’ll take care of it immediately and return!”

As Thea hurriedly mobilized the other servants, Freesia turned away, her anger beginning to boil.

Izar, now absurdly trying to act like a kind husband.

Izar, who didn’t believe for a second that she wasn’t terminally ill.

Izar, the only man to have held her, who still managed to ignite her despite everything.

Izar, who pretended to grieve like a father mourning the loss of a child, even though the thorn-bush baby didn’t exist during this time.

‘How laughable.’

Izar had to remain the villain, forever.

He was the one she deemed unworthy of even the ink it would take to sign divorce papers or strike her name from the family’s history—a man she intended to erase as though he had never existed.

The fact that he now dared to make such efforts to remove any reasons for her hatred only made him more unforgivable. Even the necklace he had given her was revolting to wear.

‘Izar. I won’t leave a single shred of affection for you.’

At the end of the revenge she had meticulously crafted, only Izar’s despair would remain.

Just then, the sound of wings flapping from above caught her attention.

A white dove landed lightly on Freesia’s shoulder, as if it had been tamed, even nibbling gently at her earlobe.

[Freesia. Is everything progressing as planned?]

Freesia glanced coldly at the dove with eyes that seemed to pierce through its core. She had thought it oddly quiet during her journey here.

“I wish you wouldn’t initiate contact in this manner, Canopus.”

The dove tilted its head repeatedly, as if puzzled.

[If I could speak to you telepathically, I would, but unfortunately, that’s impossible.]

“Hah.”

The bird’s voice was drowned out by the commotion of servants uprooting and burning the thorn bushes. Yet what irritated Freesia more was the dove’s subtle delight at being able to speak with her again.

[Still, it’s remarkable. That you’re of imperial descent…]

“And?”

[Don’t you think it could disrupt our agreement?]

Freesia smirked coldly, her gaze icy.

“Did you really think that if the Emperor started treating me well, I’d become some docile lapdog wagging my tail?”

[Not entirely impossible.]

“If you don’t trust me, feel free to kill me right now.”

[……]

“But if you lack the courage to do even that, how do you expect to enact revenge?”

Canopus’s ruby-like eyes fixated on Freesia. Through the bird’s gaze, Canopus marveled at this woman—one who exuded neither fear nor hesitation about death. Instead, he observed her with a mix of fascination and longing.

Having lived his life revered as ‘special’ by remnants of rebel forces, Canopus had always been admired. Yet, for some reason, this woman with sorrowful eyes who acted like an arrogant queen before him didn’t repel him.

‘In fact, that’s just making me want her even more.’

Without realizing it, Canopus swallowed hard. During her time on the island, whenever he looked at her, he felt a slow, burning desire—a hunger he had never known before. A lust he first became aware of in her presence.

By day, she moved like a proud avenger, yet at night, she sobbed quietly, perhaps dreaming sorrowful dreams.

‘Once Izar is dead…’

Perhaps then, he would no longer think of her as a mere prize seized from an enemy. Maybe she could become his other half.

Feigning innocence, the white dove nodded.

[I have no such intentions.]

“Ha. Then stop with these pathetic interrogations. You’ve already extracted all the information you needed and verified it.”

[Understood, Freesia.]

The dove playfully nibbled at her earlobe again.

[So please, don’t be mad at me.]

“Just leave. Before I hand you over as pie filling.”

What kind of bird behaved so obviously accustomed to human hands? Freesia clicked her tongue in annoyance, shooing the dove away.

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