Chapter 249
Damn hypocritical bastard.
Pretentious wretch who watched someone else’s suffering all this time without saying a word.
‘I’ll kill him.’
All the way to the northeast, Izar burned with murderous intent deep in his chest.
The Imperial Prince had once again left the palace under the pretext of inspecting the regions ahead of the coming drought.
And really—wasn’t it laughable? That the Imperial Prince would vacate his position right before the social season began?
Even when Izar followed him all the way to the canyon’s edge, he was still ablaze with the will to kill.
But the reason he didn’t act right away wasn’t fear.
He had sent part of the knights to delay the Imperial Prince’s group, because there was something he absolutely had to confirm first, before anyone could interfere.
Is the child… truly alive?
His child.
That single thought propelled him to storm the palace carved into the cliffside
Overpowering one palace was nothing beyond the strength of the Arcturus men.
“Duke Arcturus!”
“Your Grace, what are you—?!”
Even those who recognized him at the canyon palace rushed to stop him, but they were no match for Izar and the knights charging in behind him.
Those who flee in haste always leave traces behind, and to those trained to hunt monsters, those traces were all too clear.
Izar found it entirely natural that the signs led underground
A sudden assault. Of course they would move her below.
But when he descended the wrecked staircase and saw what lay ahead, even he was momentarily struck speechless.
“…In a place like this…”
He had never imagined there would be an underground lake.
Nor that a glass coffin would be resting on an altar beside it.
“Y-Your Grace! You can’t—!”
A maidservant he vaguely remembered from the palace years ago cried out, recognizing him.
She couldn’t approach because the knights had subdued her, but Izar wouldn’t have heard her anyway.
“Haa…”
He wasn’t even sure he was breathing.
He had finally found her.
Freesia… had been here all this time.
Izar stared down at the woman inside the glass coffin as if bewitched.
Freesia lay asleep among white blossoms, clad in a white dress trimmed with golden thread.
Her long, delicate hair, her closed lips, her slender figure, all exactly as they had been.
Were the eyes hidden beneath her shadowed lashes still the same, too?
“Freesia.”
He barely managed to speak her name.
He remembered all the raw, bitter sights of life he’d seen while searching for her.
Compared to the countless women he’d encountered during that search, she lay here untouched, peaceful, and beautiful.
And yet she had refused to die in his arms.
Had refused to let him know she was here.
‘I thought about you every single day.’
Even the sketches made for the imperial family—Freesia had destroyed every copy of herself.
And so, even when he didn’t want to have nightmares, he had no choice but to endure them, for they were the only place she still appeared.
He had not slept peacefully a single night.
When he woke from dreams of Freesia sobbing in pain, no matter what hour it was, he couldn’t bear it unless he ran outside.
If he was at the duchy, he would take his exhausted horse and wander endlessly through the dark woods, fearing she might be collapsed somewhere in a place no spring star could reach.
Izar clutched his chest, gasping.
“Guh…”
The agony was so great he wanted to scream, but he couldn’t even draw breath. No sound would come out.
He pressed both hands to the glass coffin and bowed his head.
He’d thought he had accepted her death, but he hadn’t. Not at all.
His determination to keep moving forward out of anger had shattered.
Even the urge to strangle Riegel, to massacre everyone who had been involved here, had vanished.
…This is it.
That was all that remained in his now-empty mind.
It’s time to stop.
It was okay to stop living now.
This was enough.
He would follow after her.
Physical pain no longer meant anything to him—he was too used to it
So even if he stabbed some part of himself with a dagger, the pain would be sharp but brief.
But before that, he wanted to touch her face, just once, through the glass.
Even if it was icy cold, just one last time.
But then—he heard the sound of a child crying.
“…I said don’t open it…!”
At that voice, the subdued maid’s face went pale
And in Izar’s vacant eyes—there returned a small, dry glint of light.
“Bring them here.”
“Your Grace! If the Imperial Prince finds out—!”
“Don’t make me say it twice.”
At his command, Dafir and the knights swiftly searched the cave wall from which the sound had come.
There was a bit of a commotion, and then the ones hiding inside were quickly dragged out.
“Mamaaa…!”
The child sobbed uncontrollably, clutching a doll, face flushed crimson from tears and snot.
In stark contrast, the maids beside her had gone completely pale.
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