What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 275

Deep within the palace, the secret vault could only be opened with a member of the Tennilath bloodline in attendance. Neither Ysaris nor Temisian qualified, forcing them to bring the newly awakened Casillia along.

“I’m huuungry…”

“Just a little longer, Casillia. We’ll prepare food as soon as we leave here.”

“Mm.”

Ysaris swallowed a sigh as she watched Casillia, cradled in Temisian’s arms, roll her eyes. The child had burst into tears upon waking—perhaps remembering her injury—and calming her down had been exhausting.

Facing Casillia with Kazhan’s corpse was another problem. It was unclear if she’d recognize him as her father, but exposing a two-year-old to death was hardly ideal.

At least Temisian had readily agreed to cover the child’s eyes upon arrival.

Glancing at Temisian as they walked, Ysaris noted how effortlessly he carried the now-heavier child, distracting her with playful chatter.

Strictly speaking, Casillia had contributed to Kazhan’s death too. It was a relief the Duke remained kind to her.

Or maybe I’m the only one he despises.

A shadow crossed Ysaris’s face. She’d once considered Temisian her sole ally in Uzephia. She knew she had no right to wallow, but emotions rarely obeyed logic.

Creak—

“We’re here.”

“Ah.”

Ysaris dry-swallowed as the vault door opened. Kazhan’s death still felt half-unreal, yet here she was, moments from facing him.

“Look after Casillia.”

“Take your time. I’ll watch Her Highness.”

Nodding thanks to Temisian, Ysaris stepped inside. Ignoring the glass vials lining the illuminated shelves, she headed for the center—where a man lay atop spread fabric.

Kazhan Tennilath. Her husband, eyes shut in eternal sleep.

Were it not for the twin trails of dried blood from his lips, his peaceful face might have fooled her into thinking he dreamed.

“…Kazhan.”

Ysaris froze, then approached slowly.

He looked too serene to be dead. Too intact for someone who’d had his heart torn out.

Closer inspection revealed imperfections—faint bloodstains around his left chest, dried with cloth. Temisian’s attempt to preserve the Emperor’s dignity in this waterless place.

‘So Kazhan was—’

“…”

‘—truly gone.’

The realization only struck when she touched him.

“Ha.”

A sigh escaped unbidden. Kneeling before his breathless, pulseless form, she stared blankly.

The black hair, sharp features—undeniably Kazhan. Yet the pallid stillness felt alien. Like an imposter.

“The bracelet—”

Her fingers twitched toward where his illusion charm should’ve been.

‘Was this another scheme? A performance to guilt me? Had he faked death again, grafting his face onto another corpse?’

Eyes trembling with doubt—or hope—she scanned his body, then froze.

Something glinted within his loosely curled fist. A necklace chain, wound repeatedly around his wrist, trailing into his palm.

Did Kazhan wear this?

Hesitating, she pried his fingers open.

The blue sapphire of her abandoned wedding ring flashed up at her. The chains around his wrist—a desperate measure to keep it from slipping away in death.

“Ah.”

A strangled sound escaped her as the memory surfaced. Only now did she grasp the truth behind Kazhan’s calm confession to her amnesiac self.

He hadn’t lied to manipulate her. Those weren’t tales of their post-betrothal reunion, but of their school days—of the blazing love they’d shared into adulthood.

It’s fine to forget. Just don’t look away.

The image of his red eyes—monotonous yet brimming with her alone—choked her breath away.