Volume 10 part 1

Volume 10 part 1

The ridgeline was blanketed in a thick, white cloak of snow. The sky was a gloomy gray, scattered with clouds, and hung low with an ominous stillness, as if warning of a coming cold snap.

Standing with his arms draped over the railing, Ixor called out cheekily to Daon, who was out for a walk.

“Hey, pretty lady. Care to have some fun with me?”

“Don’t you think it’s time you stopped calling me ‘lady’?”

Zephar, standing nearby as Daon’s bodyguard, chuckled. Ixor grinned shamelessly.

“But you’ll always be the lady of my heart.”

Daon laughed softly, exhaling a white breath, and took her turn to ask a question.

“Even after we turn sixty?”

With both thumbs hooked into the back of his belt, Ixor casually descended the stairs. He leaned forward to meet her eyes and answered with a teasing tone.

“Of course. You’ll still be my cute little lady. My hair will probably go gray first—that’s a problem. Even if I get old and can’t perform in bed, still see me as a man, won’t you? Hmm… should I start learning massage techniques?”

Daon quickly covered his mouth with her hand, flustered by his bold remark. Ixor puckered his lips and rubbed them against her palm like a fish. Unable to hold back her laughter, Daon pulled her hand away, and he promptly pulled her close by the waist, wrapping his arms around her.

They stood belly to belly, ready to engage in flirtatious adult banter, when Zephar, the lifelong bachelor, let out a series of pointed coughs.

“Ahem! Ahem!”

“You’re still here?” Ixor grumbled, frowning.

Zephar sighed deeply, first toward the sky and then toward the ground, before finally speaking.

“In any case, there’s something important.”

“Say it.”

“Prince Dirk shows no signs of arriving. It’s his younger sister’s engagement, so he should be here by now.”

“The schedule was moved up suddenly. It’s quite unreasonable to expect him to come all the way from the capital before the end of the month.”

“Still, she’s his dear little sister. I thought he’d at least come with a small escort.”

“A noble prince traveling with a small party would be unbecoming. That guy values his dignity more than his sister,” Ixor scoffed cynically.

Zephar let out a troubled groan.

“If even her own brother the prince doesn’t come… we might not be able to gather all the nobles we were hoping for. Things could get difficult.”

Daon entered the conversation in a quiet voice.

“You should also prepare for backlash from the people.”

“Backlash? What kind?”

“Even in our own country, despite the chaos and corruption, when invaded by foreigners, the people rose to protect the royal family. Even my father… If we attack the royal house outright, it will stir resistance.”

“There’s no guarantee that the coming change will be better than the present.”

Ixor nodded slowly in agreement. His brow furrowed deeply in thought before he suddenly asked,

“Are you afraid?”

“Yes. But I’ll go with you anyway.” Daon answered clearly.

He had longed for this. For her to come to him of her own will.

Ixor’s lips curled gently into a smile. Seeing the lines forming on his nose from the smile, Daon reached out and gently tapped the bridge of his nose. She was so adorably tender at moments like this that he tensed his face, inviting her touch.

That sweet gesture, that intimate contact—it melted away the lingering distance between them.

Since the day in the harbor inn when they both cried and laughed together, she had come even closer to him.

Wrapping a thick scarlet scarf warmly around her neck, Ixor whispered cheerfully.

“Next year this time, let’s ride a sled with our baby. And build a snowman, a big one. Dahui will laugh and love it, I’m sure. I can already hear her giggling. Yeah… when I return from the battlefield, the first thing I’ll make is a swing.”

Daon rested her head gently against his chest. Ixor pressed a long kiss to her cold crown.

He wanted to grow old with her—until they both became used to each other’s gray hair and even their speech slurred with age. They would kiss with wrinkled lips, whisper “I love you” in raspy voices, and laugh again… She was his one and only, his forever.

***

A week before the engagement, on a mild day, Ixor, Daon, Zephar, and five knights went on a picnic.

Large baskets full of food were carried by four knights, and the bear-like Rob tucked a jar of wine under each arm. Zephar was in charge of the mats. They intentionally left behind maids and attendants.

If you walked straight east from the gates of Orlank Castle, there was a hill with a magnificent view overlooking the castle.

They laid down mats there, lit a bonfire, and set up a pot. While Sir Renaud slowly roasted a whole pig, Ixor sliced bread and Daon spread butter and placed them on plates.

The view of Orlank from the hill wasn’t spectacular, it was just peaceful, rustic countryside.

Wagons carrying wine barrels and dried fruits passed through the castle gates in a line. Chickens, pigs, and ducks moved noisily in their pens. Laborers, busy chopping firewood, had their broad backs soaked with sweat.

The fields were pitch black, the forests equally dark. A common sight, yet it felt special because it was Orlank.

Looking out to the distance, they saw plumes of dust rising, guests arriving for the princess’s engagement. Normally they’d come and stay two weeks ahead, but since invitations had gone out late, they were only just beginning to trickle in.

Ixor turned his eyes to the bonfire. Yellow sparks crackled energetically. Rob smeared pork fat dripping from the roasting pig onto bread and ate it.

Laughter and light chatter surrounded them. Ixor took a piece of warmed bread and stuffed it with dried apricot before offering it to Daon. She took a bite, puckering her nose at the sourness, which made Ixor laugh loudly in delight.

It wasn’t a particularly cold winter day. Still, winter was winter. Ixor pulled a hot stone from the fire, wrapped it several times in thick cloth, and tucked it under Daon’s skirt.

“For your stove.”

He said, smiling, as he pulled the hem down to cover her ankles. Daon gave him a disgruntled look, probably her way of saying she wasn’t cold.

Ixor playfully tapped her nose with a finger, and at last, she smiled brightly.

He felt as if he could live like this for a thousand years—so happy. This would be their last gathering before the war. No one said it aloud, but they all knew: once civil war began, anyone might die.

Ixor personally poured wine into each cup and handed it to his loyal knights. He teased Zephar by pouring him water instead.

“This guy says he’ll drink only if we win the war.”

“Boo!”

The knights jeered in unison. Zephar pretended to be furious and slapped his mat.

“You people!”

After pouring juice for Daon, Ixor raised his cup.

“There’s something I need to tell you all. We’ve decided on the baby’s name.”

At first, the knights blinked in confusion. Then chaos erupted. Cheers exploded. Cups and plates flew into the air. The firewood they had gathered scattered like fireworks.

Rob ran to the edge of the hill, puffed out his chest, and let out a monstrous roar toward the castle.

“GRRRRAAAAH!”

Local village girls carrying baskets screamed in terror. Dogs barked, chickens ran down the road shedding feathers.

“A bear! A bear’s appeared!”

Eventually, a middle-aged man burst from a hut, hurriedly pulling on his pants. As he sprinted toward the village, Rob pounded his chest and roared again behind him.

“At this rate, someone’s going to go into labor. Somebody stop him,” Ixor said, laughing uncontrollably.

Sir Mark pulled another hot stone from the fire, wrapped it in his cloak, and set it at Daon’s feet. Sir Ace followed suit. Soon five cloaks, bundled up like badges of loyalty, surrounded her.

Daon gave her heartfelt thanks.

“Thank you.”

Renaud asked with a radiant face, “Please tell us the young master’s name.”

“Dahui,” Ixor said seriously, then added with resolve, “Treat my daughter just as you treat me. As you do now.”

At the word ‘daughter,’ Daon stared at him intently. Ixor adjusted his shoulders and doubled down.

“I’m telling you, it’s definitely a girl.”

“Do you not want a son?” Daon asked with a gentle smile.

Ixor rocked his arms like he was holding a baby.

“Of course I’d love one. But when I imagine being a father, I can’t help it. See? When I do this, the words ‘my darling little princess’ just pop out. So I’m sure it’s a girl.”

The seven knights gazed at Ixor with half-lidded eyes. Silence followed.

Daon let out the first giggle, and as if waiting for it, laughter exploded all around. Only Ixor sat there, sulking, smacking his lips, then raised his glass.

“In any case, to our beloved Dahui.”

The five knights raised their glasses with booming voices and emptied them in one gulp. Zephar, who had been looking around warmly, raised his cup slightly when his eyes met Daon’s.

Daon responded with a gentle smile and joined the toast. The large pig that had been roasted whole was cooked to perfection, and as it was cut, steam rose thickly from it. Meat piled high on every plate, and round after round of drinks quickly followed.

Ixor left the knights to eat and drink to their hearts’ content. Villagers who caught the scent as they passed by climbed the hill, and when given meat and bones, they gratefully offered three onions in return. Ixor poured them each a drink in turn.

As he watched people come and go below the hill, he noted how the calm Sir Renaud was popular with the children, the bear-like Rob with the elderly, and the handsome Mark with the young ladies.

Ixor chuckled and refilled his glass. As the evening ripened and the atmosphere began to loosen, Daon quietly stood up and walked closer to the hill’s edge. She stood for a long while, overlooking Orlank Castle.

The wind rippled the hem of her purple skirt, revealing pale, slender ankles beneath. Her delicate shoulders contrasted sharply with the solid, stone-built Orlank Castle, creating a strange and mesmerizing scene.

In that moment, Ixor knew he would never forget how she looked. No—there was not a single thing about her he could forget. Every moment tied to her was vividly etched into his soul. In this life, in the next, even if his body rotted away, his spirit would always yearn for her. Daon suddenly turned around and smiled brightly.

The wind blew, and a breeze scattered her hair. Golden sunlight shimmered through her fluttering strands. Ixor gazed at her and smiled back.

***

Massive round pillars lined the walls, and red and blue damask curtains embroidered with gold thread hung heavily, tied back with white floral arrangements.

Princess Anna, seated at the head of the room, wore a deep apricot dress with a silvery sheen and shone like the queen of fairies.

Countless people lined up to offer their congratulations and blessings, and as attendants presented gifts to her and quickly cleared them aside, piles of items began to resemble small hills around her.

Only important guests were allowed inside the castle. The rest were seated in large tents set up outside, where the feasting and drinking were just as wild. Even knights and attendants couldn’t all fit inside.

Yet the party, adorned with silver trays, gem-studded golden goblets, expensive carpets, fragrant high-end liquor, and delicacies from foreign lands, was the epitome of luxury.

The extravagant scale of the engagement party was a blatant display of the wealth and power of the Malkuth family, of which Ixor was the head, and Princess Anna made no effort to hide her satisfaction. Even those who had gossiped about the engagement being held in a shabby place couldn’t help but voice their admiration.

Ixor wandered the banquet hall at a leisurely pace. Dressed in a form-fitting black suit from head to toe, his lean, solid frame drew every eye—sleek and powerful like a black jaguar, he exuded a dangerous sensuality. Moving like he was swimming through water, he walked to the grand staircase and waited…for her.

Before long, Daon appeared. Ixor was momentarily at a loss for words. Dressed in a mesmerizing white gown, she was radiant like the Queen of Snow.

With every slight movement, the countless pearls on her dress scattered light like dew, and her glossy black hair was adorned with ruby-red jewels the same color as her lips.

Woosh.

He imagined he could hear the sound of the fabric moving.

Her layered dress flowed in magnificent waves. Daon delicately pinched the skirt with her fingertips and gracefully descended the steps.

Her uniquely cold and dignified charm captivated the entire room. One by one, heads turned, and soon everyone was staring at her in awe. Ixor walked halfway up the steps and extended his hand.

“Will you join me?”

With a shy smile, Daon placed her hand in his palm. The groom asking someone other than his fiancée for the first dance. Princess Anna openly scowled.

A murmur of confusion rose throughout the hall. Nobles looked between Ixor and Anna with wary eyes, but Ixor was already known for his eccentricities, so for now, they watched.

Ixor led Daon to the center of the dazzling dance floor. Guests couldn’t take their eyes off them. With every step she took, the pearls and diamonds adorning her shimmered like sea foam in the waves of light.

Sarak.

The hem of her dress rustled as it settled, and Ixor supported her back with his hand.

“Shall we begin? Place your hand on my palm, bend your elbow naturally… good, just like that. Now your other hand on my shoulder. The music will start soon, but it’s not as hard as you think.”

“I’m nervous.”

“Then don’t listen to the music. Don’t be aware of the others. Just look at me. Here we go. Tan-tan-tan, tan-tan-tan, tan-tan-tan.”

As Ixor hummed, they began to move. When he spun halfway around, Daon bit her lower lip and looked up at him.

The orchestra played a sweet melody. He chuckled playfully and continued humming.

“Good. Now take a step back and bow—gracefully raise your torso just like before.”

He pulled her close and straightened his upper body.

“How is it? Not so hard, right?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. Let’s keep going. Right foot, left foot, then again. Use your shoulders and waist to follow the rhythm, your feet in this beat… taram, taram, taram.”

Daon rolled her eyes like she was trying not to laugh, but Ixor grinned shamelessly. As he twirled her in place and released her, she burst out in a clear laugh, a thrilling laugh.

This time, he stretched out his arm, pushed her away dramatically, and suddenly pulled her back in.

“Kyah!”

Daon, pulled in on tiptoes, crashed into his chest with a squeal and a laugh. A few stiff guests chuckled, finding it cute. The music was upbeat, something even the tips of toes could dance to.

He stepped back six paces, eyes still fixed on her, then clasped his hands behind his back and danced with light, rhythmic footwork. Clearly the gestures of a man courting a woman, and Daon covered her mouth with the back of her hand to suppress a giggle.

Ixor danced slowly around her, continuing his dance of courtship, and Daon spun in place, following his movements in a wide circle. He stole a glance at the head table.

Princess Anna glared at him, her face flushed red and blue with fury. She was clearly livid. The nobles looked similarly flustered—only the men. The women, meanwhile, watched the dance sweetly, fans against their cheeks.

Then his eyes flicked to the window. Outside, in the cover of night, soldiers moved swiftly and silently with their bodies low. Their helmets were pulled down tight, and their eyes gleamed with tense focus. But no one had yet noticed them. Everyone was still watching Ixor and Daon.

The peak of the party was near. After a wild, confident round of his courtship dance, Ixor suddenly returned to a refined posture, firmly supporting her back as he pulled her into an embrace. Then he whispered in a low voice,

“Put all your weight on your right foot and let your left follow naturally. My lady, we’re going to spin and run across the fields now—capturing the thrill of love fulfilled, breaking through everything around us.”

“Yes.”

Daon lifted her chin and met his gaze.

Ixor tapped his feet a few times, then began leading the dance in earnest. Holding her close, he spun rapidly, sweeping across the ballroom.

“Waaah!” Cheers erupted from all sides.

The orchestra threw themselves into the music. Ixor’s fluid movements kept every eye locked on them. They leapt, turned, twisted.

Daon’s chest heaved with excitement. Each time they changed position and spun, her full skirts blossomed like dew-soaked petals. It looked as though she were flying.

Some onlookers felt goosebumps and rubbed their arms. Like a black beast, Ixor had dominated the stage with his dazzling energy, and just as the orchestra slowed, he stopped abruptly. Her swirling white gown, dazzling as wings, wrapped around him then fanned out grandly.

As the music softened, the two of them stood at arm’s length, hands touching, spinning slowly in a circle. A delicate silence fell. Not even breath was heard. No clinking glasses, no murmured conversations—nothing could interrupt them.

Each step they took, slowly and deliberately, seemed to pull them closer together as if drawn by an invisible force. The distance between them gradually closed.

Their fingertips met, then their fingers, and finally, their palms touched. Daon and Ixor held their palms together at chest height, unmoving, as the music flowed around them.

The warmth of the person most familiar. The unique warmth that always stirred emotion. This subtle, tender heat surged straight into their hearts, stirring their pulses violently, deepening their emotions, and giving meaning to life. That is why love is a dance of souls, a duet in the dance called life.

Daon curled her fingers around his. Ixor, too, slowly interlaced his fingers with hers and gripped them tightly.

“The music’s ending. A new tune will begin soon.”

An end and a new beginning. He tilted his head and kissed her. It wasn’t rough or passionate, but it was warm—the most affectionate kiss a man could give a woman.

After parting from the kiss, Ixor turned his head proudly and declared,

“Guests, raise your glasses! The groom has just kissed the bride!”

The wedding vow.

What had begun as a betrothal to Princess Anna suddenly turned into a wedding with another woman.

Princess Anna stood up with an incomprehensible scream, and pale-faced nobles began to shout one after another.

The chaos didn’t last long. Soldiers under Ixor’s command surged into the hall, brandishing sharp spears and forming a tight circle, intimidating the nobles.

“This is outrageous! Treason!” a noble roared, stepping forward.

At Ixor’s cold signal, Sir Renaud immediately swung his sword and beheaded the man.

“Aaaah!”

A scream of horror shook the ballroom. The sight of blood and a corpse made reality sink in. Some trembled, turning pale and freezing in place. Only Princess Anna pushed aside the ladies trying to stop her and shouted sharply,

“Gwin Ixor Malkuth… you! You!”

Ixor turned to her with a crooked smirk, looking at her with indifferent, cold eyes as if she were insignificant.

The weight of his gaze made the princess flinch and widen her eyes. Ixor spoke arrogantly,

“Dear Princess, welcome to your captivity. If you don’t make a fuss, I won’t bind or lock you up. So please behave.”

Then, he ordered his soldiers coldly,

“Separate the guests by gender. Those with signet rings, send them to Zephar.”

To hand over a signet ring was akin to surrendering one’s land, and the nobles immediately protested.

Ixor threatened them with casual menace,

“Isn’t it better to hand it over while alive than have it taken from your corpse? There’s no difference to me between ordering you to show your heads to open the gates or to show your rings.”

An attendant rushed up and draped a long, thick cloak over him. Ixor put on his gloves, strapped a sharp sword to his waist, and gave a nod. The soldiers carried out their orders swiftly.

As the ring of soldiers began closing in, forming a tighter circle, some ladies let out scattered screams.

Princess Anna, teeth clenched and lips pursed, staggered in the crowd and then shouted,

“Ixor!”

Some fainted. Blood splattered as men struggled. The confusion deepened. Even in that chaos, Anna stood frozen, fists clenched and trembling.

Ixor didn’t spare her a glance.

The soldiers divided the guests and pushed them into separate rooms by gender, isolating the landholders. The targets had already been marked, so things proceeded swiftly.

Ixor’s sharp gaze scanned the room. Zelgirk was nowhere to be seen. When he summoned Zephar to ask, the latter reported with some discomfort,

“He was definitely in the castle until the afternoon. But he disappeared once the banquet started… with so many people in the castle, it’s hard to say.”

“He caught on and ran?”

“I don’t think so.”

Pwoooot!

A trumpet sounded outside. Knights who had finished securing the outer grounds were leading cavalry through the drawbridge. Rob, famed for his bravery, was at the front. Ixor’s eyes gleamed coldly.

What remained now was speed. The rest of the continent had yet to grasp the situation. They had to push through, fast.

Most lords hired mercenaries, and fighting in winter was practically taboo, so few castles had a strong garrison. Besides, with the lord held hostage, few knights would stand and resist.

A black carriage carrying Princess Anna passed through the castle gate. From now on, she would travel as a hostage with Ixor’s forces. He swiftly mounted his horse.

Just before departing, he brushed Daon’s cheek with a finger. She gently kissed his palm, a rare display of affection from her. They likely wouldn’t meet again for a while. This might even be their last goodbye.

Ixor cast off the anxiety in his heart and made a joke,

“Looks like we’re doing long-distance for a while?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll keep writing love letters. ‘My dearest lady, I miss you terribly today…’”

Daon smiled softly and confessed,

“I love you.”

A tightness pulled at his throat, his chest heating up. But he avoided getting too serious, otherwise it felt like this could truly be goodbye. He responded playfully,

“Hmm. I love you more.”

“Is that so?”

“Of course. Shall we bet on it? Who loves who more?”

“Then I bet on me.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to bet on myself.”

Ixor grinned confidently and leaned in to whisper in her ear,

“Darling, you like apples, right? If I win the bet, you’ll eat one. That thing we didn’t do on our first night.”

Daon blushed deeply and averted her gaze. Ixor pulled her close and kissed her crown. Her warm body nestled against him.

He closed his eyes, trying to memorize her scent. Something felt off. A strange, scratchy unease gnawed at the base of his heart.

A woman who always felt distant, like she’d vanish the moment he turned away. Maybe that’s why the anxiety lingered. But now, he had to go.

“I’m sorry to leave you alone while you’re pregnant. Don’t push yourself. Eat regularly. Promise me?”

Daon wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered with a slightly cracked voice,

“Don’t get hurt.”

He kissed her eyes instead of her lips, afraid he wouldn’t be able to let go if he did.

Daon quickly reached into her waistband and pulled out a small, worn piece of parchment.

“Ah…”

Ixor smiled faintly and unfolded it. It was the ‘free s*x ticket’ from a few months ago. The word ‘s*x’ had been crossed out twice, with ‘kiss’ now written above it. It was the very first thing he had given her.

He looked down at the ticket, feeling something complex stir in him. Yes, those things had happened between them. And to use it, he’d have to come back alive.

He spurred his horse and raised his hand high.

“Well then, off I go! I’ll have the apples chopped and ready. You’d better eat them!”

Daon burst out laughing and raised her hand in reply.

He didn’t look back after passing through the castle gate.

Ixor leaned forward on his horse, galloping like a black reaper toward Zelgirk’s domain.