Chapter 5
“ We have to leave immediately.”
“The forest at night is dangerous. There’s no need to risk your life to this extent.”
Ian smiled, trying to reassure the group.
“I’m just a little tired. Don’t worry—rest as much as you can.”
Yet Edith and the knights stayed awake, their eyes wide through the night. It was a restless, nerve-wracking vigil where no one could truly relax.
As time passed, Ian’s breathing grew labored, and he began coughing intermittently. Concerned for his condition, the group packed up quickly before dawn.
But Ian, who had grown noticeably weaker overnight, struggled to even sit astride his horse, complaining of severe dizziness.
Until they reached their hideout, Karl and Lucas took turns supporting him. His markedly reduced speed and stamina, combined with his fragile state, cast a heavy shadow over everyone’s faces.
“Ugh—”
For the fifth time, Ian clutched his churning stomach and emptied its contents onto the ground. His pale lips quivered as a mixture of bile and blood poured out. Any observer would recognize it as a dire omen.
“Brother, at least wet your lips with this.”
Edith, forcing a calm expression, handed him a water bottle. Ian accepted it with trembling hands, rinsing his soiled mouth.
The earthen tunnel, carved between rock and trees, was hardly a suitable environment for a patient. Moreover, the water they had carried and the rations they had brought along were steadily dwindling.
Sweat-drenched, Ian’s back clinging damply to his clothes, the knights unfastened the tightly bound cloth restraining him and removed his shirt to swap garments.
A little water was used to clean the blood and grime, revealing the puncture wounds from the arrows. The skin around the deep gashes had already darkened to a deep purple.
“We can’t just wait here any longer.”
Edith looked at the group with a troubled expression.
“I’ll go meet the Baron myself.”
“That… can’t happen, Edith. The pursuers may have reached the territory first. If you put yourself in danger…”
Ian’s pale lips trembled. He could barely support his own body, yet here he was worrying for someone else. Edith shook her head.
“All the more reason I should go first.”
“I won’t lose you too.”
“Brother, snap out of it! I’m not going there to die. I’m going to save everyone—together.”
At Edith’s outburst, Ian quietly closed his mouth. He already knew he was holding everyone back. For now, serving as the Crown Prince meant little; he needed to avoid being a burden to the group.
“I should be protecting you… to see you like this… I’m sorry.”
Shaking her head, Edith took Ian’s hand and pressed it to her cheek. The heat radiating from him was tangible.
Would she ever hold his hand again? Like winter breath extinguishing a flame, Ian’s life seemed to flicker with every passing moment. She could not bring herself to let go.
“Don’t worry. Wait a little. I’ll return with everything we need.”
“Take this, Edith.”
Ian withdrew a dagger with his other hand and pressed it into her hands—a gift that had once belonged to its owner.
“May the blessing of Luhanan be with you.”
Edith slowly withdrew her hand and, one final time, committed Ian’s image to memory.
In his gaze, she saw layers of regret, attachment, and worry, yet his tone was firm:
“Lucas. Do not let anyone discover the Crown Prince’s identity. Protect him by any means necessary until we return.”
“I swear on my life, my lord.”
“May Your Highness remain safe until we meet again.”
No one could guarantee what lay ahead. Eyes glistened with unshed tears. Perhaps it was the urgency of departure, but the surroundings seemed to blur and sway.
Richard sat upon the throne, gazing down at the vast Grand Hall. The hall, once littered with corpses and blood, had been cleaned meticulously over the past few days.
Does the seat make the man? From this height, Richard recalled his former self, cowering in a corner, constantly mindful of the Emperor’s gaze.
How small and pathetic he must have appeared. Richard let out a self-deprecating laugh. But what use was that now? The throne was undeniably his. A satisfied smile spread across his face.
“Congratulations, Your Highness… or should I say, Your Majesty?”
Sharp footsteps echoed across the hall as a man, elaborately dressed from head to toe, entered.
His crimson hair, like poured wine, made his pale skin appear even whiter. Richard’s pleased expression twisted in surprise.
“I didn’t expect you to arrive so quickly.”
“The Tazgar cavalry is renowned for its speed, like a north wind. If we truly wished, we could traverse the continent in under a month.”
“I concede. Your efforts were critical in this affair, Grand Duke Alexander.”
“Was there any doubt? Hearing the news, it was worth rushing here.”
Alexander bowed slightly. Stray strands of hair fell across his eyes.
“Had we not borrowed your knights in advance, reclaiming the palace in a single day would have been impossible.”
“The reputation of the Imperial Guard is well-deserved.”
“Let’s hope they weren’t underestimated. Had we delayed another day, my head would have been hanging outside the gates.”
Even the mightiest knight is weakest when complacent. Alexander nodded in agreement.
“Do you know the difference between Luhaim and Tazgar?”
“And what do you suppose it is?”
“The difference lies in whether one has taken a life or not.”
Richard narrowed his eyes.
“Tazgar still holds a tense relationship with Lahan to the east. Our knights face their soldiers daily. No matter how vast or tactical an army is, if it cannot cut down its enemies in battle, it is useless.”
“You make it sound as if your army is about to invade.”
“Not at all. It merely shows how peaceful Luhaim has been. No one dared challenge the Empire for 150 years after the peace accord. Even Tazgar remains peaceful outside the contested areas.”
“Even a passing dog wouldn’t believe that.”
Tazgar’s peace was owed entirely to Alexander’s forces. Mercy followed nowhere they went. The so-called peace atop fear could hardly be called Tazgar’s own.
“So, what is it you want?”
Richard’s scoff broke the silence.
“I seek only the political marriage promised with Edith.”
Richard tilted his chin, studying Alexander. The Duke’s green eyes, unreadable and sharp, gleamed.
“However, I hear she has already vanished from the palace.”
“Lost amidst the chaos. Our soldiers are scouring the villages. Since she was not seen leaving the capital, she will be found soon.”
Alexander’s eyes curved into a crescent as he lightly bowed in respect.
“I hope the unification between the Luhaim Empire and the Tazgar Duchy is realized once more.”
Richard clenched his fist.
“I swear it.”
“Imagine that—Clarisse’s illegitimate child acting so arrogantly. Ridiculous.”
Alexander sneered at the thought of Richard. The attendant following him quickly corrected:
“Since the Emperor declared Clarisse his child upon bringing her here, she is officially illegitimate, Your Grace.”
“Even though she was given the status of a princess,” Pavel muttered while taking Alexander’s coat.
Clarisse Tazgar—Richard’s mother—was a woman Calix III had fallen for at first sight during his visit to Tazgar while Crown Prince. Though already betrothed, his affection for Clarisse was no secret.
“To bring someone whose identity isn’t even confirmed, only to die by their hand… the title of Emperor is meaningless.”
“Yes, yes, perhaps. But this is Luhaim’s palace, so choose your words carefully.”
“No matter my cousin, Pavel, one should be cautious abroad.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Pavel chuckled, pouring wine into a prepared glass. Alexander smirked and sank into a chair.
The western palace of the Luhaim Empire, prepared for dignitaries, was as lavish as the Empire’s grandeur demanded. Pavel ran his hand over the armrest, lost in awe.
“The carpets, the furniture… each piece is irresistible. I’d love to have one in my study.”
“You will, one day. I’ll give them to you as a gift.”
Pavel pouted.
“Just yesterday, you were so cautious. Why not simply invade then? How troublesome.”
“Even a toothless tiger can cause losses if provoked too hastily.”
Alexander gave Pavel a sharp look, as if to ask why he was stating the obvious.
“A prolonged campaign is even more dangerous. Lahan’s forces remain unchecked. If they bring reinforcements, preparation becomes impossible.”
Without speaking, both men recalled the devastation in the east. The war between Tazgar and Lahan had dragged on for years, evoking quiet, heavy sighs.
“And above all, Tazgar is not wealthy enough to support multiple armies. I envy the weather here,” Alexander said, opening a window to let in Luhaim’s warm air.
The harsh northern climate explained why Tazgar, despite its formidable army, could not challenge the Luhaim Empire or southern allies recklessly. Half the year was cold and overcast. Only a few regions could sustain agriculture; most relied on livestock or hunting, at least until winter came.
While victory might seem easy under similar conditions, in a prolonged war, Tazgar would be disadvantaged by its scarcity of supplies and manpower.
“I’m not convinced a political marriage with the princess is strictly necessary,” Pavel said, tilting his head.
“Wouldn’t there be other ways to elevate Tazgar into the Empire?”
“This marriage is not just about elevation. She is both duchess-to-be and hostage,” Alexander replied with a crooked smile.
“Ordinarily, Tazgar becomes a vassal state of Luhaim,” Pavel murmured. Alexander raised an eyebrow but remained silent.
“If she becomes Duchess of Tazgar, we can later use legitimacy to shake the Empire. Timing is key.”
“I’ve spent six months searching the farthest corners of the map for this reason,” Pavel muttered, shaking his head in exasperation.
“Just as we returned to the capital with proof, you dragged me to Luhaim without even time to rest…”
“Stick to the point.”
“I had trouble confirming the family, despite their name being known,” Pavel said, brandishing a paper.
“Unfortunately, Richard is indeed the son of Calix III.”
