Kwa-rreung—!
After the thunder, the sound of powder detonating followed. A part of Ruttgard Castle exploded, and soon it began to collapse in a chain.
Watching the scene, Ezekiel Schwaben spoke in a cold voice.
“To the one who captures the false princess, I will grant a barony. To the one who captures Theodore Ruttgard, I will grant two estates besides.”
After a pause, he added,
“If they escape, none here will be free of responsibility.”
Flash—!
Lightning turned the world white for an instant, then dark again. Kwa-rreung—, thunder rolled after it. In the darkness, only his silver hair gleamed like moonlight.
The adjutant beside Ezekiel muttered under his breath.
“To think they’d bring the castle down themselves…”
“They’re trying to use the confusion to slip the false princess out.”
In truth, the imperial army’s encirclement was shaken by people fleeing the collapsing fortress.
The adjutant thought it would be difficult to capture Princess Olivia. It was night, the weather was vile, and the townsfolk inside the castle had poured out in chaos. The imperial soldiers, ordered not to let anyone escape, thrust their spears even at old men and children.
At that moment, new cries rose from the direction of the main gate.
“For the honor of Ruttgard!”
“For the honor of Ruttgard!!!”
One man shouted, and knights and soldiers took up the cry. Ezekiel narrowed his eyes and looked that way.
The roar of Ruttgard’s men pierced the sound of rain and shook the heavens. It was spirited, but to Ezekiel’s ears it was only the death throes of the doomed.
His attention shifted elsewhere on the battlefield. No matter how formidable a warrior Theodore Ruttgard was, no matter how valiantly his men ended their lives, in the face of overwhelming numbers they could not win. This time, Theodore would die.
The remaining problem was Princess Olivia.
'That too must be another ploy to spirit her away.'
Belittling the life-risking resolve of others as a paltry stratagem, Ezekiel followed his thread of thought.
Princess Olivia was the one blemish in the grand design of the Schwaben Ducal House, the mightiest power in the Shirah Empire. No, not a blemish—a thorn. A flaw that seemed insignificant, yet sharp enough to tear a delicate fabric to shreds.
The Schwaben plan to take the throne without resistance, without blood or usurpation, had collapsed on the mere fact of Olivia’s existence. Twenty-two years ago, when a single infant slipped away, no one could have imagined it would come to this.
And that woman was a flaw to him personally as well.
Ezekiel recalled her face: pale complexion, aquamarine eyes wide with terror, a frail body quivering.
His fiancée, Princess Roella, was clearly more his taste. Yet strangely, Olivia’s face would not leave his mind.
He only had to catch her. Once he had her—once he possessed her—the troublesome desire circling his head would vanish. After that, he could kill her.
It was then.
“Your Grace!”
Two knights approached at a quick pace. Ezekiel turned to them.
A woman, covered in mud, was clutched in their grip. Rain poured over her tangled blond hair, which reflected the torchlight in shimmers.
“Oh.”
The icy mask on Ezekiel’s face softened. One knight reported,
“A soldier on watch by the stream discovered her.”
“Reward him. And the two of you as well.”
He gave a signal with his eyes to the adjutant, who nodded. Later they would record the soldier’s name and see to the promised reward. The knights who brought her in would receive theirs too.
“Release her.”
At his order, the knights shoved Olivia forward, almost throwing her at his feet.
Her lips were white with fright. Ezekiel, gloved hand, seized her cheek. Theodore would soon be dead, and Olivia was captured. The best possible result. Utterly satisfying.
“It’s been a long time, Lady Olivia.”
“……”
Olivia shuddered all over, as if chilled to the bone.
“If you meant to run, you should have tried harder. Count Ruttgard’s death has gone to waste.”
“Your hand…”
“Mm?”
“Take your hand off. It’s disgusting.”
Olivia spat the words with a face as if she would be sick. Ezekiel only smiled, eyes curling as if amused, and seized a fistful of her hair.
“Agh!”
“How insolent.”
He yanked sharply at the nape, jerking her head back. Gazing down at her exposed white throat, Ezekiel found it enticing. Olivia trembled in his arms.
A savage desire coursed through him. It always did. He wanted to rip her clothes off and ram himself into her, pounding her mercilessly.
The only reason he held back was because the sweetest part had not yet arrived.
One hand gripping her hair, the other arm wrapped around her waist as if escorting a lover at a ball, he drew her along to a vantage where the battlefield was clearly visible. Olivia jerked faintly as if to resist, but against Ezekiel’s strength it was futile.
Turning her face away, eyes squeezed shut, she tried not to see the ghastly sight. Ezekiel, pinning her head in place, commanded,
“Open your eyes, Olivia. A princess should. You must watch, with your own eyes, the last moments of the knights who give their lives for you. Isn’t that so?”
“Uuhh…”
“They are all dying because of you.”
Tears streamed down Olivia’s cheeks. Ezekiel licked them with relish. There could be no sweeter drink.
“Beg me.”
“No.”
“If you beg with all your heart, I might let a few of them live.”
His voice turned honeyed, as though tempting her. But Olivia shook her head tightly, eyes clamped shut. She was supposed to be weak and fragile, so he had thought it would work. Her defiance was unexpected.
Waaahhh—!
A shout rang out then, along with screams.
“Theodore Ruttgard is dead!”
Someone cried it aloud. Olivia’s body convulsed in Ezekiel’s arms as though struck by lightning.
“Hhh—hhuk…!”
Unable to endure, she broke down in sobs. Annoyed, Ezekiel hauled her upright and snapped harshly,
“Didn’t you know this would happen? Hm? You knew.”
“Hhic, hhhuk, hhic.”
“You should have begged, at least.”
Not that he had ever intended to spare Theodore Ruttgard.
Clutching her, staggering as if he didn’t know where he stood, Ezekiel gripped her jaw tight and pressed his mouth against hers.
Her mouth was hot, lips soft and swollen. Pushing his tongue in, he wondered if the inside of her body would be just as moist.
Soon he would find out.
***
The head of the traitor Count Ruttgard was displayed in the square before the imperial palace. The first crime proclaimed: that he had raised up a false princess to corrupt the sacred bloodline of the Shirah Empire.
Shortly after, the young Duke Schwaben who had crushed the rebellion, and Princess Roella, announced their engagement. Everyone had expected it, but it was still an occasion for celebration.
For the wedding, the palace and the Schwaben ducal house bought goods in great quantity. A general amnesty was declared, and charity distributed. The Empire, once weighed down by the long civil war, was now so lively one could hardly feel its effects.
Only a handful of retainers, servants entrusted with the innermost affairs of the ducal manor, knew that in Duke Schwaben’s bedchamber, a young woman named Olivia was held captive.