Chapter 258
Kazhan acknowledged the truth with silence. He wasn’t reckless enough to gamble on facing a reality that already suffocated him at mere hypotheticals. He knew better than anyone how precarious his state was—how easily he could collapse at any moment.
‘Just die already. Why cling to this wretched existence—’
“Shut up.”
The harsh words escaped—not for Ysaris, but for the illusion. A high, tinkling laugh swirled around him before vanishing.
Survival instinct, she’d called it. Blocking out thoughts of Ysaris, shutting away emotions, mindlessly drowning in work—all desperate flailing to stay alive.
True. But if asked whether it was for his sake, the answer was no.
Kazhan had no desire to live. From the moment Ysaris bid farewell, he’d already been a dead man walking.
So this painful, degrading persistence? It was all for her—not himself.
“Damn it…”
He raked a hand through his hair, repeating the motion until his lips curled into a snarl beneath his palm.
He refused to let Ysaris be blamed for Uzephia’s ruin. After dragging her name through the mud for “betraying” him, he’d worked to restore her honor. No whispers of “The empire fell because the Empress and Crown Prince left” would be tolerated. That’s why he’d thrown himself into imperial duties—body and soul.
He preserved her rightful place, should she ever return. Even if she didn’t, he ensured she’d retain her privileges if she ever stepped foot on the continent again.
He’d even accounted for Mikael reclaiming his status one day. As Uzephia’s ruler, Kazhan safeguarded everything his wife and son might rightfully inherit.
Everything he built was a legacy. However numb his mind, his body moved with relentless purpose.
‘You think I’d appreciate that?’
The voice mocked him again. A smiling Ysaris whispered in his ear.
‘I’d still hate you.’
“I don’t care.”
Kazhan turned sharply toward his office. Attempting to carve a hairpin now would only yield a flawed product—better to work.
‘Why so desperate? What changes if you do this?’
The specter’s provocations should’ve given him pause, but Kazhan didn’t stop. He tuned out the taunts, focusing solely on what he could do.
Because…
He loved Ysaris.
Even if the feeling would never be returned, surely this was what she’d defined as love.
His last words to her hadn’t been a lie.
That was all.
* * *
“Mama, where’s Cassie?”
“Still asleep, I think. Want to check, Mikael?”
“Yeah!”
The soon-to-be-four-year-old marched off confidently. Ysaris smiled at his sturdy little back as she finished setting the table.
Breakfast was simple: fruit, eggs, and fluffy potato-based dishes. A small bowl of thin vegetable soup sat ready for her youngest.
“Cassie won’t wake up!”
“Mama will get her. Sit down first, okay?”
“Okay!”
Leaving Mikael clambering onto his chair, Ysaris entered the bedroom. On their shared bed, a toddler—easily one year old—lay half-sprawled, drowsily snuffling.
Casilia Tennilath. A girl with jet-black hair, proof of her noble bloodline.
“Sweetheart, time to wake up. Breakfast is ready.”
The child, inheriting the Tennilath lineage thickly, showed it in her growth. Barely over a year old, she already had a noticeable weight when lifted.
“Mmm… Mamaaa.”
Rubbing her sleepy face against Ysaris’ shoulder, Casilia yawned “Hwaaam” before blinking up with dazed eyes.
A vivid, radiant red—like rubies. The kind that couldn’t help but remind her of him.
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