RVMPT Chapter 119

Chapter 119

Diana had made two requests before entering the prison cell where Harold was being kept. First, she asked for a moment alone with him. Second, she asked for the handcuffs binding his wrists to be removed.

Both requests were granted without much resistance.

Even without the cuffs on his wrists, his ankles were still tied tightly, and to the guards, letting her in alone seemed like a mercy, not a threat. After all, the person most capable of disturbing Harold had just willingly walked into his cell.

The moment the door shut behind her and they were left alone, Diana rushed to Harold’s side. Without hesitation, she reached out, clasping her hands over his. As soon as their skin touched, a warm surge of divine power flowed from her into him.

She had heard he had been tortured—but seeing it with her own eyes made her heart ache in ways she hadn’t been prepared for.

Though some healing had already been done, the traces of old wounds were still there. Worse still, there were fresh wounds too, raw and new, like they had only just been inflicted.

It was awful. Absolutely awful.

Her chest tightened. Her vision blurred with tears, and she tried to hold back. Part of her wanted to look away, to pretend she hadn’t seen it. But instead, she forced herself to look harder, to memorize every mark, every bruise. It was the least she could do.

As her divine energy slowly began to heal the worst of his wounds, Harold abruptly pulled his hand away.

“Why did you stop?” she asked, startled. “I’m still—”

Still healing you.

But the words never fully left her mouth. They broke apart and scattered in her throat the moment she met Harold’s gaze.

His jaw was clenched. His lips were pressed into a tight line. He looked furious.

She hadn’t seen this expression in a while—not since their time at the Aneis Guild. Back then, she’d unknowingly confessed her escape plan to Harold, not realizing he was the acting guild leader. He’d worn that same expression then, but even so, this time felt worse.

“Diana.”

Her name left his lips without any teasing or lightheartedness. No charm, no smile—just raw disapproval.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said, voice cracking near the end.

He sounded as if he was in pain, but not from his injuries.

“I knew you’d say that,” Diana replied, shoulders tensing. “Everyone tried to stop me. But I insisted. I had to come.”

She knew he had a plan. That Prince Andrew was preparing something. That the emperor wouldn’t kill Harold right away—not as long as he believed Harold held the secret to his self-healing ability.

“But why—”

“I heard you were being tortured. How could I just sit still?”

Their eyes locked in the air between them. Harold’s expression remained hardened.

“You should have,” he said quietly. “You know I’m not like ordinary people. My body is stronger—I can endure things normal people can’t. This is nothing. You should’ve thought about your safety first.”

Diana stared at him in disbelief, her voice barely above a whisper.

“How can you say that? Just because you can endure more pain… doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

He looked away, as if her words struck deeper than he wanted them to.

“It’s still not as bad as the illness I had,” he said.

“That doesn’t make it okay!” she snapped, her voice rising. “Even if it’s less painful, it still hurts. Pain is pain, Harold!”

Her gaze dropped to his injuries again. Some had faded under her healing, but others remained angry and red. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“And if being a Swordmaster makes you strong enough to survive this,” she continued, “then shouldn’t I be the same? My wounds heal instantly. Poisons don’t work on me. Doesn’t that mean I should be able to withstand torture too?”

His head snapped toward her.

“That’s not the same,” he said sharply. “That would never happen to you.”

“Oh, of course it wouldn’t,” she said with a bitter laugh. “Because you’d never let it happen. You’d protect me, no matter the cost. Because I’m someone important to you.”

That was the problem.

Harold’s current suffering wasn’t just a result of bad luck or strategy. It was the price he willingly paid to keep her safe.

If his secret had been something as simple as a rare herb or potion, he wouldn’t be here. He’d have found a way to hide it, mislead the emperor. But this—this was about her. His ability was tied to her, and rather than risk her being discovered, he bore the burden alone.

For the first time, the depth of his affection hurt her. It was no longer comforting—it was painful. Like a blade slicing through her heart, over and over.

“Harold,” she whispered, “you’re precious to me too.”

“Diana…”

Her vision blurred. His voice reached her ears, sounding surprised, even a little panicked.

She blinked away tears, lips trembling as she tried to form words.

“I can’t stand it when the person I love is hurt. Even a small cut bothers me. So how could I do nothing, knowing the one I love is being tortured?”

There might be people in the world who could stand by and wait—but she wasn’t one of them.

“I just… couldn’t.”

Harold didn’t speak.

“I’ll never be able to sit still while you’re suffering. Even if it means facing fire and death myself.”

Silence fell between them.

Then, gently, Harold reached up and brushed the tears from her eyes. Only then did she realize she’d been crying.

She sniffled and scrubbed her eyes with her sleeve, embarrassed. When her vision cleared, Harold was smiling faintly—soft, almost apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

She shook her head, throat too tight to respond.

“I didn’t want this to happen. I never want to see you cry.” He hesitated, then added, “What should I do to make my wife stop crying, hmm?”

Diana gave a shaky laugh and stood up.

“Just… stay still for a moment.”

“I probably smell awful,” he joked.

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly.

Diana leaned in, her arms wrapping carefully around his neck. The scent of dried blood lingered, making her eyes sting again. But she held on tightly.

“You’d kiss me even if I said no, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

And she did. She kissed him deeply.

When she finally pulled back, she saw that all of Harold’s wounds had vanished. Her divine power, flowing so earnestly with her emotions, had healed him completely.

She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped back, returning to her seat.

Then, from beneath her skirt, she pulled out a folded piece of paper and a pen attached to her thigh.

Harold watched her silently, and suddenly, it made sense—why she had insisted the guards free her hands.

She had come here not just to see him—but to talk, genuine talk. And that meant saying things no one else could overhear.

***

Diana placed the paper on the table and began to write.

—Harold, I’m going to reveal my power to the emperor. In exchange, I’ll ask him to release you.

Harold’s eyes narrowed sharply. He had expected this. From the moment she walked in, part of him had known.

But that didn’t make it any easier to hear.

He pushed back a sigh.

She was throwing herself into the fire for his sake—and it wasn’t the first time. She knew how dangerous the emperor was. She had seen it firsthand.

Now that she was involved, there was no turning back. Escaping with both of them unharmed would be nearly impossible.

The emperor, obsessed with immortality, wouldn’t let them go so easily. If he learned her powers could help him achieve it, he’d never stop hunting them.

Everything they’d worked for, all the plans Prince Andrew had carefully laid—would be thrown into chaos.

This wasn’t like running from a handful of assassins. This was a nightmare.

He couldn’t let her go through what he had endured. Once they knew what she could do, who knew what horrors they’d subject her to?

‘I need a plan,’ he thought, mind racing.

As his expression darkened, Diana tapped the table again to get his attention.

—Don’t worry too much.

She continued writing.

—Remember when we revised our contract? You asked how much divine power I had. I told you it felt endless—but I also mentioned that once a year, I lose it temporarily. Do you remember?

“I remember,” he said. He’d never forgotten. She had said when that time came, she’d know instinctively.

“Don’t tell me…”

—That time is now. In less than an hour, my power will vanish, and it won’t return for two weeks. Until then, they won’t be able to use me, no matter what.

His eyes flicked over the message, and a spark of realization lit in his gaze.

But Diana was still writing.

—So until you come get me, I’ll be safe. I believe you’ll come soon.

She smiled brightly—too brightly.

She believed in him. Even if things went wrong, she had accepted the risk. She had come prepared to sacrifice herself if necessary.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Harold asked.

“Huh?”

“That’s the smile people wear when they’ve already accepted what they might lose.”

She looked away awkwardly, caught.

“Diana,” he said gently, “you told me you hate seeing me hurt.”

He took the paper and pen from her hand and met her eyes.

“I feel the same way.”