What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 278

For the same reason, the healing abilities of the Tennilath had never been officially disclosed. Even the recovery of Kazhan’s wounds had been attributed not to drinking Tennilath blood, but to the imperial family’s relentless efforts to find a way to restore him through their own power. Revealing a miracle greater than that was unthinkable.

So while Temisian’s reasoning was sound…

“I agree with concealing the conditions for awakening, but we cannot tarnish Kazhan’s name like this. Let’s find another way.”

“Death from grief”—of all things.

Ysaris straightened her back, her complexion slightly pale.

“I don’t think we need to decide this hastily. We still have time.”

“You’re right. Then let’s table this matter for further deliberation.”

Temisian readily agreed, as if he hadn’t intended to settle it immediately in the first place. Ysaris exhaled in quiet relief. She had nearly insulted the death of the husband who had given his life for their daughter.

Afterward, the two discussed the current state of affairs in Uzephia at length. With Duke Barilio gone, Duke Blake had been the one assisting Kazhan most closely, so the process of teaching the Empress the Emperor’s duties proceeded smoothly.

One day, two days, a week…

Time passed quickly. While Temisian worked tirelessly to quell the growing unrest over the Emperor’s prolonged absence, Ysaris fully adapted to palace life.

Though she was too busy to see the children, she had grown proficient in handling the Emperor’s duties. Contrary to Duke Blake’s claim that the workload had “decreased significantly,” the sheer volume of work was still staggering, but she steadily tackled it one task at a time.

Kazhan’s body, laid upon the bed, still showed no signs of decay. Far from rotting, there wasn’t even a hint of deterioration in his skin—so much so that sometimes, she wondered if he was merely asleep.

And it wasn’t just that. When touched, his body didn’t feel like a corpse’s, but like a living person’s. Not warm, but not cold either—a cool, steady temperature lingered.

Even though his heart had stopped.

“……”

Before she realized it, Ysaris found herself staring at Kazhan again. Even after confirming his death dozens of times, she still couldn’t let go. At least once a day, she would gaze down at his body, lost in thought.

His black hair, washed and neatly arranged, lay still, framing tightly shut eyes beneath. Between the sharp bridge of his nose and the line of his jaw, his bloodless lips remained sealed in perfect stillness.

With no breath to disturb him, he looked like a painting preserved in a frame. His beauty played a part, but more than that, there was an eerie serenity about him.

“Are you happy there?”

Ysaris spoke softly to Kazhan. She had never given much thought to the afterlife, but seeing him like this—his face untroubled, as if death had granted him a dreamless sleep—stirred something strange in her.

‘Was death kinder to you? Is that why you left without looking back?’

She stared at him a moment longer, then shook her head. When she thought about it, she couldn’t say he had truly departed without regrets.

Hadn’t he been looking at her, right until the very end, with eyes swirling with unreadable emotions?

At the time, she had been too preoccupied with Casillia to decipher what lay in his gaze. Nor had she wanted to.

She had assumed there would be time. Time to save the child first, settle the debts, and then speak to him properly.

“…If I had known what you were planning, I wouldn’t have acted that way. At the very least, I wouldn’t have been so cold.”

A sliver of regret slipped out. Rather than blaming him for not speaking, she was reflecting on her own actions.

“I was going to see you before the three years were up anyway… If I’d known it would end like this, I should have reached out sooner. How foolish. Both you and me.”

A bitter smile touched her lips. Talking to a dead man as if he could hear her—it was pathetic.

Not like he’ll ever listen.

Ysaris slowly closed her eyes, then opened them again, giving Kazhan’s chest a light pat. Out of habit, the same lullaby-soft voice she used with the children followed.

“Sleep well, Kazhan.”

May your eternal dream be peaceful.

…As she quietly left the room, darkness settled behind her.

And Kazhan remained, unmoving.