What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 261

“Uuung……”

“……”

Ysaris patted Casilia’s back as she mumbled incoherently, half-asleep. Shifting her gaze, which had been wandering absently, she saw Mikael pacing beneath a tree branch where Ppiu was perched, clearly wanting to climb up.

Climbing trees is easy. I’ll teach you when you’re older. Though I’ll need Ysaa’s permission first.

Kazhan’s voice surfaced in her mind unbidden. She could still picture it vividly—how he’d swoop Mikael up with a playful “whoosh,” hoisting his tiny body onto the tree in one swift motion.

Times like these made her guilt flare. Had she selfishly robbed the children of their father? Whether he’d been sincere or merely putting on a facade, Kazhan had been a good father. And the imperial palace would’ve offered them a far better upbringing than this place.

But Ysaris didn’t regret leaving Uzephia. Even now, just thinking of Kazhan made her chest tighten. If she’d stayed by his side, she couldn’t imagine how much worse it would’ve been.

It wasn’t just the past—her love with Cain, or the abuse she’d endured early in their marriage—that clashed inside her. Even the relationship they’d rebuilt after her memory loss now fed her turmoil.

‘What would our lives have been like if Duke Barilio hadn’t interfered? How would we have reunited? What kind of newlywed days would we have shared? How happy a family could we have been?’

This hypothetical had haunted her since shortly after leaving Uzephia, resurfacing whenever she tried to forget, gnawing at her relentlessly.

Especially after learning of her pregnancy, and now raising the child alone, it was inevitable that exhaustion made her miss him. With no one to lean on, longing and loneliness dragged Kazhan into her thoughts against her will.

Not that she’d forgiven him.

“……”

Ysaris stared past the dense forest, her face shadowed.

It was always like this. One moment, she’d trace memories of Cain; the next, a cold numbness would smother any nostalgia. An instinctive refusal to romanticize the man who’d dragged her life into the abyss.

She still wasn’t ready to face Kazhan. She had no idea how to look at him, let alone speak to him.

And hearing he’d been fine without her had only made it worse. A bitter, irrational hatred flared—even though, objectively, the Emperor tending to his duties should have been good news.

Her emotions were a tangled mess, but she couldn’t avoid him forever. She had a reason to reach out, one she couldn’t ignore.

“One year…”

A little over a year remained until she’d owe Lena her payment. Nearly two years had passed since leaving Uzephia and returning to Mikael’s homeland.

She’d promised Kazhan’s blood. She couldn’t back out now. But how to fulfill that was another matter.

Even setting emotions aside—how would they communicate? What could she even offer in exchange? He might not need her anymore.

And if the deal fell through—

“Mama! Dis! Dis one! Ppiu bring bug!”

“Uuuu…”

“Oh dear.”

Ysaris’s brooding shattered under Mikael’s exuberant shout and Casilia nuzzling into her lap. It seemed worries for the future would have to wait until the children were asleep.

* * *

Swish. Swish.

In the center of the quiet room, a thick brush carved paths across broad parchment.

Ivory, gold, azure—once the base colors were laid, a finer brush added delicate shading. With a separate brush for each hue, the man’s workspace was cluttered with tools.

Swipe… swipe…

Gradually, his strokes slowed. Though he’d repeated this process countless times, detailing always demanded patience.

Each eyelash precise, the pupils deepened as if to pull the viewer in. When his hand finally lifted from the paper, a platinum-haired woman gazed back, smiling.