Chapter 62
“Or do you really want to die?”
Cyrone smiled faintly as he asked. His gaze gently followed Elia’s expression.
“I don’t want to eat anything.”
Elia tried to turn her face away, but Cyrone refused to let go. Looking down at the withered Elia, he clicked his tongue lowly.
“Should I cut out that brat’s tongue? Would you eat then?”
Trying hard to hold back his anger, Cyrone pointed at the knight and asked Elia.
“Your Highness, please forgive me! The Miss won’t listen to me…!”
The trembling knight cried out desperately. Feeling disgusted by the whole scene, Elia twisted her face painfully. At that moment, one of her wounds reopened and fresh blood trickled out. Cyrone, who had barely managed a smile, finally frowned.
“Why should I listen to you?”
Cyrone said this as he looked down at the knight’s back. His voice was dry and sharp.
“How can you call yourself a knight when you can’t even watch your own fingers?”
Clicking his tongue again, Cyrone muttered under his breath. Then, glaring at the wound on Elia’s face with irritation, he kicked the knight’s abdomen.
The man let out a harsh groan and rolled on the floor.
“Stop, stop it, Cyrone.”
Elia pleaded, grabbing Cyrone’s hand. She couldn’t bear to watch such scenes anymore. Finally, Cyrone looked down at Elia and spoke.
“Do you know why I’m keeping your father alive?”
Though his words were chilling, Cyrone’s voice was calm, almost like a lullaby.
“I told you. If necessary, I’d tear out your father’s heart and give it to you.”
Slowly stroking Elia’s cheek as she hung at his feet, Cyrone smiled gently.
“So hold on, even if you have to force yourself.”
In his own way, Cyrone whispered eternity to her. An eternity that no endless time could ever separate.
His fingertips brushed Elia’s silky hair, the warmth in his hand feeling deeply precious.
“How could I live without you? Right?”
* * *
“Elia! Elia, are you awake?”
A shadow appeared through Elia’s foggy vision. The man approaching finally removed the robe that covered his head. Ironically, only now, with her senses dulled, did Elia realize he bore a strange resemblance to someone.
“Rias?”
Even Elia would later learn that very few knew about the place where she was imprisoned. Among those who knew secretly, it was called the underground prison, or the secret fortress.
But Rias seemed already aware of this space, looking very familiar with the highly secretive location.
“Shh. Elia, be quiet.”
Rias slowly turned his head, placing a finger gently over his lips. His eyes scanned the room with a peculiar gaze, thinking that this place. Too lavish to be a prison, too secretive to be a castle, had not changed at all.
“I came to save you… so don’t be afraid.”
Elia got up cautiously, she looked at Rias with wary eyes. He reached out his hand to her, but she refused.
“Reiffers, your father, asked me to do something for you.”
Yet Rias forcibly took her hand. Though their hands only overlapped, she could clearly feel the pulse. The tighter he gripped, the stronger Elia’s small hand beat.
“What? Father?”
At last, Elia spoke. She felt uneasy and unfamiliar with everything. Though she was not yet certain of Rias’s presence, once doubt began, all relationships tended toward their end.
“Why would Father ask that of you?”
The connection between Rias and Reiffers, Reiffers and Rias, was a mystery even to Elia. Just as her thoughts began to deepen.
“I’m your fiance. Have you forgotten?”
Rias urgently grabbed Elia’s shoulder, then brushed his face in confusion.
“And you belong to the Reiffers family, traitors to the imperial family.”
Having heard that the rebels fell without resistance, Rias knew a decision was necessary. He would have to use his last card, Elia.
Elia Reiffers, the greatest weakness of Cyrone, his deepest lack.
“So Elia, you are also a traitor to Cyrone.”
Rias spoke as if driving a stake through the heart. Hearing this, Elia’s face turned noticeably pale. Seeing her like that, Rias made a vow deep in his bones: one day, Elia would come to love him.
“So run away with me. No, you must run away. To a place where Cyrone cannot reach you.”
“How could you say that…!”
“Do you think you can help Cyrone? No, you’ll only hurt him.”
Elia’s delicate fingers trembled. Rias wrapped her hand in his, whispering slowly as if casting a spell.
“Why don’t you understand yet? The best thing would be for you to disappear.”
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