Volume 9 part 1

Volume 9 part 1

The tailor arrived in the afternoon. He was a very famous tailor, specially summoned from Garion, renowned not only in the country but even known to make clothes for foreign royalty from time to time.

Daon received the design he presented. The pure white pearl dress he was to create for her was enchantingly beautiful. Even someone like her, who was usually indifferent to clothing, was captivated at first glance by the refined design.

Her heart raced just looking at the intricate embroidery. While the tailor’s apprentice held various white fabrics to her skin to determine the fit and length, Ixor sat silently in a cushioned armchair, watching her.

The design was simple yet extravagantly luxurious, pure white like a wedding dress. Was she supposed to wear this on the day of the engagement ceremony with the princess? No way…

A terrible feeling surged within her.

Was he choosing to become a traitor? It was something unthinkable unless one had gone mad, but if it was Ixor, it was entirely possible.

When the meticulous fitting ended and the tailor bowed apologetically, Ixor waved him away.

Click.

The door closed gently. Only then did Daon, standing in the middle of the room, speak in a calm voice.

“Is that really the dress I’m supposed to wear?”

With his legs crossed, Ixor poured alcohol into an empty glass and replied coldly.

“Shut up and follow me.”

“…”

“Your opinion is unnecessary.”

His words were cold enough to cut. When she gripped her skirt tightly, Ixor narrowed his eyes and sneered at her icily.

“There was a time I asked your opinion. When I respected you. But now, I’ve decided to treat you like an object I own.”

“Men don’t understand war,” Daon retorted with the same coldness.”Especially those in power. They can’t imagine how women and children endure war. Countless children will lose their fathers, and just as many women will lose their sons and husbands.”

War is a fight that creates countless orphans, ones the country can’t even care for. Ixor’s lips tightened with a weary expression.

Clack.

He placed the glass on the table with eyes as cold as ice. Whenever he got angry, he always set his drink aside first. Though it was a familiar gesture, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.

Ixor laced his fingers over his stomach and looked at her arrogantly.

“Do I need to tell you to shut up a second time?”

It was the face of a ruler—unyielding and merciless. Daon clamped her mouth shut, her expression stiff. Her vision began to spin. Again…

Her body felt limp and exhausted from all the stress. She pressed her forehead with her fingertips before sinking into a nearby chair.

Ixor, who had been glaring at her coldly, rose and approached. A long, looming shadow fell over her, dark and imposing.

She tensed instinctively. But instead of lashing out, he knelt before her and quietly removed her shoes, then gently massaged her calves. She turned her gaze away as her eyes threatened to tear up. His hands were warm and kind, completely unlike his cold words and gaze.

She knew he was disappointed. She knew he felt deeply betrayed, after all, she had hidden the matter regarding Princess Anna. But she didn’t want things to spiral out of control.

Life was like a monster—once twisted, there was no knowing where it would run. She never wanted to be at the mercy of that monster again.

“Maybe…”

Daon whispered as she looked down at his straight nose.

“Maybe I’m like this because I’m a coward, like you said.”

“Now you realize?”

He replied coldly as he massaged her other leg.

After a moment’s hesitation, she gently touched his hair. Ixor grumbled in his usual frosty tone,

“Don’t touch me. I’m still mad.”

“You touch me too.”

“Your legs are swollen. You’ve got a fever. Are you feeling unwell?”

“…”

“Well, no wonder.”

Ixor let out a long sigh. He gathered her knees together and leaned his forehead on them, like in prayer.

Daon quietly looked down at him. His fingers were moving slowly over her ankles, almost caressing.

“I moved the engagement up to the end of next month.”

The end of next month, that was the ‘D-day.’ It meant he was set on going to war.

No, she thought. It would be like throwing an egg against a rock. Even if Ixor’s soldiers were elite and his knights unmatched, it was still impossible.

How many people would die?

She tried to reason with him again.

“Marry Princess Anna.”

“Stop.”

Ixor looked up with a murderous glare. But she pressed on, worried.

“You can become part of the royal family without fighting.”

“You mean, become a royal son-in-law and cater to King Dirk while keeping the crumbling royal bloodline alive?”

“Yes. You could do it. You have the strength, the ability, the wealth, the youth.”

“Why are you so afraid? What happened to the woman who once coolly asked when I’d execute Drewbury’s second wife and son?”

“I…”

Daon bit her lower lip and turned her head away.

Ixor grabbed the back of her head and forced her to meet his gaze.

“This war was always bound to happen. It’s reached a point where it’s dangerous if we don’t overthrow everything soon. Even if the king strengthens his power now, it’s already too late.”

“People just want peace. Even the nobles—if it’s you…”

“Enough!”

“…”

“You’re the only one I want to make happy. The only woman I ever swore to.”

“I’ll stay here. Just come down to Orlank once in a while to see me…”

“You think Anna will leave you alone if you’re out of my sight? That’s basically asking me to abandon you!”

They stared at each other, breathing heavily, sparks of conflict in their eyes.

Daon spoke in a faint, painful whisper.

“Are you really going to send farmers, who should be sowing seeds in spring, off to the battlefield?”

Ixor reached out and grabbed the nape of her neck. She didn’t even have time to resist. He yanked her face toward his in an instant. Daon braced herself with both hands on his shoulders.

His breath was hot with the stench of strong alcohol, and his eyes gleamed darkly, cold and terrifying.

“I’ll kill them all if I have to, but I will have you,” he declared in a hoarse voice.

“If I have to build a mountain of corpses to do it, so be it. Do you understand?”

He kissed her with his eyes open—a cold kiss.

Then Ixor pulled a sachet from inside his coat and handed it to her. Daon looked blankly down at the bright-red sachet. He wrapped his wide hands around hers and pressed them tightly.

“It’s yours.”

Even after he left, Daon sat frozen in the chair for a long time. Eventually, she began to slowly open the sachet in her hand.

A sweet, elegant scent wafted out. She reached inside the narrow opening and carefully pulled out its contents one by one. Fragrance clung to her fingertips.

Inside were dried, deep-red rose petals and a ring. A luxurious ring set with a red diamond in the center. She heard her heart shatter.

Yes… he was an extraordinary man. A man who understood everything without needing a word. A man who knew how to embrace her most painful places without asking. Ambitious yet cheerful, strong yet gentle.

With a blank expression, she clenched the rose petals and the diamond ring tightly in her hand.

Crush.

The dried petals crumbled into powder between her fingers.

Her emotions were losing their way. She wanted him with a fierce longing. But her miserable past, one she never wanted to relive, and the bleak, inevitable future bound her mind in terror.

Daon didn’t move for a long time in the dark, unlit room. As dawn passed, the fireplace died out, and only heavy cold and darkness remained.

The familiar darkness. It felt like sinking deep into the sea. Powerless, unable to do anything… hopeless, with no light in sight.

As time passed, her mind kept sinking into gloom and despair—until it finally hit bottom.

She could still see her mother’s severed head. The memory of her entire family brutally massacred for defying the king’s command would never fade.

That, too, had happened because of her alone.

Daon couldn’t hold back any longer and squeezed her eyes shut. As the past, which she had carefully buried, began to resurface more clearly, her emotions twisted to the point of being unbearable.

Would the past repeat itself?

Ixor, his clan, and all his followers would surely die again, this time too, for the crime of defying the king’s orders. Yet, there was nothing she could do for him. Nothing at all.

Just as she had been unable to do anything for her family long ago. An unnecessary body. An unnecessary existence.

‘What can I possibly give you besides this useless body?’

That outburst she had screamed at Ixor was her purest sincerity—an old grief.

The image of her father and brother on the execution platform, their small frames dangling, while filthy dogs roamed near their corpses.

The black birds circling under the ashen sky were etched into her eyes and never disappeared.

Now, those images overlapped with Ixor as if they were unfolding in real time. She could even clearly smell the metallic stench of blood from the execution site.

“Ugh!”

As the smell of blood surfaced in her mind, a wave of dizziness swept over her, and nausea surged. Daon covered her face with both hands and bent her torso deeply. Cold sweat dripped from her neck.

No.

Ixor was the only important person to her. Just him.

The only man who had brought joy to her long, painful life.

For that reason, she couldn’t follow the path he had chosen. She couldn’t let him wade through a pool of blood.

As her body trembled in pain, she suddenly opened her eyes, her lashes quivering. Her eyes, cast downward at the floor, were dry and frozen, and her expression was devoid of emotion.

Then, for a moment, she smiled faintly. A cold but aching smile of sorrow. She slowly lowered the hands that had been covering her face, just like how he always used to touch her.

Tracing the path of his caress, her fingers brushed down her sweat-soaked neck and gently passed over her softly rising chest.

Lower still, she crossed her hands in an X-shape over her abdomen.

She was with child.

How would Ixor react if he knew? Princess Anna certainly wouldn’t sit idly either. In this situation, dragging things out would change nothing—it would only waste time.

She had to decide, cleanly and quickly.

Daon slowly lifted her chin. Her snow-white neckline stood out starkly in the darkness. She straightened her back and looked at the cabinet in front of her.

On the cabinet stood a small wooden figure of a winged horse, carved from wood. A beautiful celestial steed, its front legs raised as if ready to soar.

She filled a clean cup halfway with water, drank it, and placed the empty cup atop the cabinet facing Ixor’s room.

To the right of the cup, she placed the winged horse. To the left, the scented pouch containing the ring.

And then, she spoke a dry farewell,

“I’m leaving. I’ll love only you for the rest of my life.”

She gazed at the wall with warm eyes, as if he were standing before her.

“I never imagined I could bear a child. I believed it could never happen in my lifetime. I’m a little anxious, and afraid…but more than anything, I’m happy. Because of this child, I’ll leave behind everything else you gave me.”

After a brief pause, she softly called his name.

“Ixor.”

Again, in a voice cracked with emotion,

“Ixor…”

Though she hadn’t spoken his name often, it branded itself on her soul like something she’d said a thousand times. Her firmly resolved heart began to waver, and she took a deep breath.

“I wish you success.”

May he walk the broad, solid path already laid before him, without hesitation. Like the winged horse he carved.

After saying her goodbye, Daon moved swiftly and efficiently, wasting no time. She selected a dark, plain cloak from the wardrobe and draped it over her shoulders.

Aside from taking some emergency gold coins Zephar had given her long ago, she packed no extra luggage.

Ixor was a man of decisive action, if she had decided to leave, she had to be thorough.

She tightly braided her loose hair again.

His engagement to Princess Anna was set for the end of next month. If she made it to Garion and boarded a ship bound for another country, Ixor wouldn’t be able to chase after her.

She wasn’t worried—Zephar would assist her afterward.

Click.

She carefully opened the double window and let down a long, twisted bed sash outside.

The sturdy, purple ribbon swayed like a serpent in the cold wind. Gripping the rope tightly, Daon cautiously climbed out.

There was a small side gate in the wall where produce from the village was brought in—also used for taking out trash. The key to the gate always hung on the kitchen wall.

Whoooooosh.

As her feet touched the ground, the chilly wind swept past her ears, sounding almost like a voice calling her back.

It felt as if someone grabbed her shoulder to turn her around. She hesitated for a moment but did not look back.

Crunch.

Her footsteps broke the frozen snow, a small sound piercing the silence of the night. She had a feeling she would never forget the sound of stepping on snow tonight.

As she fully left Orlank Castle, a long-nurtured pain burst forth from her chest.

A warm and beautiful future, now forever unreachable—that intense grief reminded her of that. And still, Daon fixed her gaze on the darkness ahead and kept walking.

***

The next morning, when the door, locked from the outside, was opened and breakfast brought in, her room was empty.

The window was wide open, the hearth cold and dead in the harsh winter wind. Ixor took immediate action.

He woke Zephar and ordered him to prepare only the necessary number of soldiers, and to make it seem as though Daon were still in the room. Princess Anna and Zelgirk could not be allowed to find out.

Fwooooo.

A horn blew long and low, and the hunting hounds burst from their pens, barking loudly.

It didn’t take long to confirm she’d exited through the side gate near the kitchen.

The problem was—which direction had she gone?

While the hunting team was being prepared, Ixor spread out a map and scanned the terrain with wide, sharp eyes.

“She bought a horse from a merchant at dawn,” Zephar reported, breathless.

Merchants typically didn’t travel in winter, but thanks to the secure roads and improved infrastructure under Ixor’s rule, a few trade teams had arrived even in Orlank.

A horse. She bought a horse… So it was a race against time.

The nearest port was in Orlank. But if she truly intended to disappear, she wouldn’t choose a middling port or head inland.

Then the answer was clear—Garion, where the large harbor lay. She was trying to flee the country.

Crack.

With an expressionless face, he crumpled the map and mounted his horse. The horse galloped across the frozen ground at a frenzied speed. Behind the hazy dark clouds, the morning sun rapidly rose.

Zephar swiftly issued commands, dispersing the knights, while only Knight Rob pursued Ixor. The sluggish gray clouds, driven by the wind, finally unleashed snow.

Thick snowflakes flew straight into their faces. Ixor had no thoughts. No emotions. From the moment he saw the empty room, his soul had gone cold and remained that way ever since.

No matter how hard he ran, Garion didn’t come any closer. The horse, unable to endure the fatigue, gasped and snorted roughly, but Ixor mercilessly spurred it on.

It wasn’t until near noon that he entered Garion. The people stepped aside in shock at the sudden appearance of their lord, hurriedly bowing their heads.

Ixor raced through the heart of Garion. As his horse rampaged through the bustling street, screams erupted from all sides.

With the massive Garion castle on his left, he stormed up the hill like a typhoon. Beyond the narrow forest in the distance, a white harbor came into view.

The snowstorm grew fiercer. He narrowed his eyes through the blinding blizzard.

There was a ship scheduled to leave for a foreign land via Mook Island in the afternoon. He leaned forward and increased speed.

The horse’s legs faltered as it barreled down the hill. The port with ships lined in a row came quickly into view—one of them had just unfurled its sail and departed.

Ixor clenched his molars. The ship was already sailing out of the harbor into the deep blue sea.

“Daon!”

His voice broke through the crack that split open his heart. Ixor screamed in utter despair. Sir Rob took the reins and charged ahead.

Merchants who had just disembarked gathered around a bonfire drinking warmed alcohol blinked in shock at the sight of two horses racing by.

Ixor halted briefly at the harbor. He looked around quickly, but only found ships not ready to sail. He galloped down the coast again. The surging sea hit the horse’s legs with white foam.

Ixor rode across the wet sand and pulled the reins toward the forest lining the shore. Breaking through the woods, he soon spotted a low cliff.

Without hesitation, he drove the horse toward the cliff. Rob, who was trailing closely behind, drew his sword and let out a fierce shout.

“Uaaaaaaaah!”

Aiming at the ship approaching the cliff to avoid the shallows, Rob threw his sword.

Whoosh!

With a terrifying sound, the sword flew through the air, tore through the ship’s sail, and plunged into the sea.

At the same time, Ixor leapt off the cliff. The horse, legs spread wide, hovered in the air for a moment before landing on the ship.

Thud!

All four of the horse’s legs broke at once. The ship sank as if it would flip over, then bounced back up. As cold seawater flooded in, people screamed and desperately clung to the railings.

Trembling atop the dying horse, Ixor slowly rose. His head spun, and his entire body throbbed as if he’d been struck by a hammer.

He staggered once before rising crookedly and, expressionless, scanned the passengers’ faces one by one. And finally, he saw her.

Fixing his gaze on Daon, Ixor issued a cold command.

“Turn the ship around.”

He emptied out the inn near the harbor. After driving out all the guests, he rented a room upstairs. By then, snow had piled up ankle-deep.

Since locking himself in the room, he hadn’t called for a maid, so the fireplace had long gone out, and the chill wind shaking the windows could be felt even inside. A single lamp cast a faint, flickering light.

Clink.

Ixor pushed aside the empty bottle and pulled a new one toward him, opening it. The fiery smell of strong liquor scorched his remaining sanity.

The cramped inn room was stiflingly quiet. Neither of them spoke. She sat silently on the bed in her cloak. Ixor drank straight from the bottle, then roughly wiped his lips with his thumb. His anger wouldn’t subside, and his head throbbed.

Should he just kill her?

A violent impulse surged.

He should kill her and own her forever.

Twisted pain fueled his mad desire.

Bang!

He slammed the bottle down as if battling himself. The rough motion shattered it, and the remaining alcohol and shards spilled under the table. Ixor glared coldly at her.

“Shall we die together?”

As he cruelly spat the words, she looked up and met his gaze. Her black eyes betrayed no emotion—only a quiet, detached distance.

He stood, wobbling, bracing himself on the table, then seized her shoulders and forcefully pulled her to her feet.

“I can’t live after killing you. So today, let’s die together.”

“…”

“Playing mute now? Are you saying I’m no different than Zelgirk?”

With a bitter chuckle, Daon’s expression turned pale. She immediately denied it.

“No.”

“Then talk!”

Ixor clenched his teeth to stifle his voice. If he started yelling, he felt he would completely lose control, so he forced himself to keep it low.

“Say something. Am I that unreasonable of a man?”

Daon turned away in anguish. Ixor, desperate, held out both hands.

“Come to me. Willingly.”

“I can’t be with you.”

“Why?”

“…”

“Why?!”

Unable to hold back anymore, he roared. Hot breath burst from his mouth, and it felt like he would explode into pieces. He let go of her and stood abruptly.

He then covered his eyes with his blood-stained palm, trying to steady his rough breathing.

His arms ached from the impact of the fall. The searing pain barely kept him tethered to reason. After a long pause, he opened his eyes again.

“Fine,” he said hoarsely. “Give me a reason I should let you go. If you’re leaving, convince me. Talk before I completely lose it.”

He removed his hand and glared at her with a piercing gaze.

His eyes, filled with both deep love and hatred, gleamed dangerously in the darkness. Violent urges churned in his gut.

No matter what she thought, no matter if she hated him—whenever fear surged within him, he wanted to rip her clothes and mark her as his. He wanted to threaten her so she’d never even think of running again.

Creak.

He dragged a chair randomly and placed it in front of her bed, turning the backrest toward her like a barricade. It was the final line to protect her from the rampaging beast inside him.

With a deep breath, he steadied his tone.

“Let’s talk. While I still can.”

But Daon remained like an unbreakable fortress. A castle he wanted to destroy but could never bear to hurt.

A woman he couldn’t handle. A woman who drove him mad.

He covered his face with both hands, then raked his fingers across his forehead like hooks. His lips twisted, and his eyes stung.

“Show me something of yourself.”

His vision blurred, and tears streamed down his chin. Ixor laughed without realizing it. No matter how painful things had been before, he had never cried…

Startled, Daon stood up. Ixor, calm now, held up a hand to stop her. If she touched him now, he would certainly snap.

Daon, clutching her chest, slowly sat down again. Her slumped shoulders made her look like a small child. She finally spoke in a soft voice.

“There was a war when I was a child.”

Ixor narrowed his eyes. It seemed unrelated to their situation… But no, this was her answer to his plea to show herself. The reason she was so desperate to reject violence.