It was still early evening, and they remained in the dining room.
Calix regarded his wife with undisguised bewilderment. Was she acting this way out of desperation? What could possibly explain this unexpected warmth in her gesture?
A warmth that burned his heart like wildfire.
_What's happening to me?_
Surprisingly, the fury that had been shaking the very air around them subsided in an instant. The frenzied madness receded like a retreating tide. The man simply couldn't believe it.
He laughed aloud—a sound of genuine astonishment.
_What was that? What in all the hells was that?_
_All she had to do was touch my wrist._
The realization shocked him to his core. But Calix wasn't about to surrender so easily.
"Whether you like it or not is mine to decide."
"But it's still too early..."
_Damn it._
The man clenched his fists in frustration as he noticed tears spilling down her ashen cheeks.
He would never admit it to himself, but his wife's tears were his weakness. Every time he witnessed Asella looking like a helpless bird cast into the snow, he experienced a tempest of conflicting emotions.
And now—on one hand, he wanted desperately to warm and protect her. But on the other, at the mere thought of her attempting to break free and escape him, he wanted nothing more than to shatter her wings and lock her away forever. So that she could never fly again.
_Let this little silver bird sit quietly in her cage and wait for me to touch her._
"Tears won't help you."
Calix cupped her face with his hand, feeling the skin of his palm grow instantly damp.
It struck him as utterly astonishing: How could such a small body contain so many tears?
"Because I'm not going to stand here watching you cry."
Unlike his cold words, Calix's movements were sweet—like streams of viscous honey.
With peculiar tenderness, he brushed away her tears using only the tips of his long fingers.
Then he touched her lips.
The sensation was dizzying.
He grazed her scarlet, slightly swollen lips again and again. She must have bitten them repeatedly from fear and agitation.
With each touch, her fragile body trembled helplessly, and the hand gripping his wrist tightened its hold. But for Calix, such effort was a mere drop in the ocean. He could easily shake that hand away at any moment.
But he loved her delicate touch.
"Give me some time... I need to compose myself..."
Silence.
"I'm not trying to avoid this like last time... It's true."
Tears continued streaming down her cheeks, yet her voice remained surprisingly quiet and steady.
In any other circumstance, the prince's desires would have taken precedence, and his answer would certainly have been negative.
But not now.
And it was at that precise moment—when he faltered, doubtfully studying his own reflection in her trembling blue pupils—that an insistent knock sounded at the door.
"I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but urgent news has arrived from the capital."
The perfectly shaped black eyebrows arched with displeasure.
"Why *now*?"
However, Raizen's persistent voice was already pulling him back to reality.
Of course, the Emperor could have waited. But unfortunately, Calix himself required this interruption.
His gaze fell once more upon Asella. Her blue eyes blinked in confusion, apparently not quite believing her fortune. Sparks of tears glistened on her long eyelashes like morning dew.
"I want a child only from you." He growled the words like a threat.
Calix had no intention of explaining why he couldn't carry out his intentions at this moment. But somehow, he sensed this delay might serve him better.
_Once this business is concluded, we'll continue. This poor, trembling bird has nowhere to flee. She has no choice but the cage I've prepared for her—the cage of my embrace, from which she will never escape._
He'd never thought of his wife in such terms before now.
But at this moment, he liked it.
Very much.
"Very well. Inform everyone to prepare for departure. I'll join them shortly."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Having issued the order to Raizen, Calix slowly straightened his body and helped Asella rise. His eyes never left his terrified wife.
"I'll definitely grant you that chance. So there's nothing to regret."
His promise emerged cold as winter steel. He gently wiped the moisture from beneath her eyelashes with his thumbs. Tears pooled in her incredibly blue eyes—so helpless, so deer-like in their vulnerability.
_This woman._
_Does she have any idea what risk she's taking?_
The fact was that her appearance—this trembling, tearful surrender—strangely kindled within him the darkest, most burning, almost *sadistic* desires.
His blood-red eyes flashed with cunning.
"Are you upset?"
Asella hesitated for a moment, then obediently parted her lips.
"I'll be waiting for you..."
Her voice was weak but steady.
"Good." Calix smiled with genuine relaxation.
Then he skillfully adjusted the lacing on Asella's bodice.
Since he hadn't actually done anything yet, not a centimeter of skin was visible beneath her modest dress. But Asella still couldn't bear his proximity and turned her head aside, revealing to his gaze a tender, delicate ear flushed crimson with embarrassment.
Unable to resist, Calix pressed his lips to it—a carnivorous kiss—and whispered:
"I'll return soon with good news."
He touched the sensitive shell provocatively with just his fingertips, deliberately tucking a strand of silver hair behind it.
"Wait impatiently."
There was unmistakable affection in his impossibly deep voice.
---
## — The Fortress at Night —
The atmosphere in the castle—and throughout the fortress itself—was completely different from anything Asella had observed before.
_What does all this mean?_
She stood in her room, peering intently through the window. Usually, nothing remarkable occurred outside—just the soft glow of lanterns illuminating peaceful grounds. But not tonight.
At this moment, the fortress bustled with unusual activity.
_I wonder why the Archduke released me so easily?_
She'd overheard Raizen mention that information had arrived from the capital. But that explanation seemed deliberately vague.
Though it wasn't difficult to surmise the truth. The Archduke had no reason to hurry except to deal with the Emperor.
"I'll return soon with good news."
Those had been his parting words. What did he mean? No matter how desperately Asella puzzled over them, she couldn't decipher their significance.
_Haa..._
She exhaled heavily.
Perhaps because the evening air had grown chilly, her breath formed a small misty haze on the glass.
"Your Highness, are you still not abed?"
A concerned voice sounded directly behind her.
Lady Roman had been completing her final duties in the Grand Duchess's chambers and therefore entered the bedroom freely, without announcement.
"It's late, Your Highness."
"I know. But I cannot sleep."
Throughout the evening, Asella had experienced a persistent sense of unease. Without apparent reason, her exhausted heart ached with some incomprehensible, obsessive melancholy.
"Then may I light an aromatic candle?"
"The sleeping herb?"
"Yes. It will help you fall asleep peacefully and rest deeply. You'll feel refreshed when you wake tomorrow morning. The scented candles are excellent for headaches—they clear the mind while restoring the spirits."
"Yes. I believe I've heard of that." Asella nodded thoughtfully.
The servants seemed to have been awaiting Margot's instructions. A moment later, the candle beside Asella's bed was already emitting a thin stream of fragrant smoke. A unique, soothing aroma softly filled the chamber.
"This is a very effective remedy," Margot assured her, carefully adjusting the pillows beneath Asella's head as she settled into bed.
"Thank you."
Indeed, with each breath, the pleasant aroma filled her lungs. Very soon, her racing mind calmed, and her body gradually relaxed.
"Lady Roman."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Is His Highness traveling to the capital?"
Margot froze momentarily, then offered Asella her most natural smile.
"Yes. I heard the Emperor is summoning him."
"Can you tell me the reason?"
"I don't know for certain." Margot shook her head. "Perhaps it concerns the demonic beast attack. Or perhaps it's simply a routine matter of state. The Prince is, after all, deeply involved in His Majesty's trade affairs. And regardless, there are many matters connecting His Majesty and His Highness. So it's difficult to say exactly."
"I understand. Thank you."
It was a flawless response.
But for some reason, Asella already knew Margot was definitely concealing something. Just as she had when they'd discussed the demonic beast attack.
"Good night, Your Highness. Sweet dreams."
But Asella no longer heard the well-wishes. The candle's scent had lulled her imperceptibly. Her blue eyes drifted closed, and she sank into deep slumber.
Margot rose wearily from the chair beside the bed and walked quietly into the sitting room. The maids were completing their final tasks. She issued the necessary instructions, then firmly commanded:
"And remind everyone to guard their tongues properly."
"Yes, Countess."
---
## — The Nightmare —
**Ah!**
Asella jolted awake in a cold sweat, her heart lurching and trembling from the nightmare that still gripped her consciousness. It was the middle of the night—complete darkness pressed against the windows.
_What was that?_
Asella remained in her bed. But her body? It felt foreign. Alien.
The burning Charts mansion still blazed before her eyes. Her dream? It had felt so *real*—as though she'd witnessed everything in person.
She suddenly realized her throat was burning too.
Asella struggled to lift her unresponsive body from the mattress and stumbled toward the table. She grasped a cup of water and barely managed to raise it to her parched lips.
But her shaking hands lacked the strength.
The cup slipped and shattered against the floor with a sharp, violent sound.
Asella unconsciously clapped a hand over her mouth, desperately trying to contain the scream that threatened to escape.
_Did I have a nightmare again?_
A scene so terrifying that the hairs on her neck rose materialized in her mind. It had been a dream, but everything felt achingly real. Too terrible to be mere fantasy.
**Charts.**
It all happened at dawn.
Their attack was swift and precise. Caught completely off guard, the Marquis's guards were unable to mount any serious resistance. Then came merciless slaughter.
Flames instantly engulfed the mansion, as though they were the fiery tongues of the Devil himself. They consumed the ancient walls, accompanied by the terrifying ring of clashing blades. The desperate cries and pleas of those trying to flee were silenced by the whistle of descending swords.
Splashes of black blood. Piercing screams of death.
In an instant, the mansion where she had lived for nearly twenty years—the place where her childhood memories of her mother were preserved—was reduced to ashes.
And her proud family name with it.
_What was that?_
In her dream, her own husband—Calix Benvito—had led this merciless massacre.
That terrifying man wielded his sword with cold-blooded precision. His impassive face betrayed no emotion as the steel drew its deadly arc with a horrifying sound, and black blood gushed from beneath the sharpened blade.
The desperate cries of people dying on that bright early spring morning still echoed in her ears.
_Aaaah..._
Asella's upper body arched painfully, and she retched violently onto the beautiful, expensive carpet. Her head throbbed as though boiling oil had been poured directly onto her skull. Her entire body shivered so intensely that cold sweat drenched her nightgown.
When the nausea finally subsided, she found herself staring blankly into the darkness.
In an instant, the fragmented images from her dream assembled themselves into a coherent picture—like pieces of a long-prepared puzzle finally clicking into place.