> **Warning:** This chapter contains scenes of violence and cruelty.
---
On this gray morning, the atmosphere at Benvito Castle hung heavier than funeral shrouds. The castle's master had completely lost his mind.
"Well? Do we have an answer?"
He was furious. More furious than he had ever been.
"Do you *remember*?" His blood-red eyes narrowed to predatory slits, and the eerie smile that curved his lips sent a vile shudder crawling down Raizen's spine.
To say nothing of the two unfortunates suspended from the ceiling by their wrists, writhing against their chains.
One of them had once been called the heir to the Marchioness of Charts.
Just days ago, they had been dragged to the castle and thrown into the basement. But that brief time had been sufficient to subject them to every torment hell could devise. Both men teetered on the edge of madness from the horrific torture. They had long since begun begging for death.
But in vain.
The prince had no intention of granting them an easy end.
"Raizen. How long did my wife live with these people?"
"Seven years, two months, and four days, my lord."
Calix's expressionless face twisted with disdain. The words that followed were so chilling that even Karma's hardened executioners swallowed hard.
"I trust you haven't forgotten the box of gold bars?" A humorless smile. "Well. I am a man who repays his debts *tenfold*."
His voice emerged completely dry—stripped of any human warmth.
And so, day after day, the executioners at Benvito Castle tore flesh and twisted bones. Afterward, they carefully applied magical healing potions to keep the captives alive.
Then the torture resumed.
The Archduke himself, however, had never participated directly.
Until now.
Calix surveyed the disgusting instruments hanging from the wall with cold indifference. Then his gaze settled on Philip and Anthony.
"**Answer me.** Where could my wife have run?"
Both men shook their heads frantically, terror swimming in their eyes.
"N-nothing... we don't know anything..."
"This one." The command escaped his lips like a sigh—quiet, almost casual.
Then the expression in his eyes turned to ice. A dark shadow slid across features as perfect as a statue carved by the gods themselves.
"Make him *more forthcoming*."
Moments later, Philip's piercing screams echoed through the basement. Yet Calix's face remained utterly impassive. Even when the red-hot iron hissed against the man's stomach—the sound wet and sickening—not a single muscle twitched on that sculpted face.
The chamber filled with the nauseating stench of burning flesh.
"A mouth that cannot provide correct answers should not create unnecessary noise."
At his master's words, Raizen seized a rag and shoved it roughly into Philip's mouth—so deep that only muffled, choking groans could escape the blocked throat.
"Much better."
Philip's eyes rolled back. He thrashed against his restraints, fighting with everything left in his broken body to break free. The chains swung and clanked with his desperate struggles. Finally, his exhausted form went slack.
He had lost consciousness.
Anthony watched this nightmare unfold, his face ashen with despair. But not for long. He flinched violently when Calix turned and fixed him with that terrible gaze.
"Perhaps *you* have some suggestions?"
Anthony's entire body trembled. His trousers grew suddenly dark, and a yellow puddle spread across the stone floor beneath him. Raizen's nose wrinkled in disgust at the acrid stench. He stepped aside.
"Well? Any guesses?"
"Mo... mo... she could..." Anthony scrambled frantically for any answer that might save him. It was obvious—*terrifyingly* obvious—that his father's fate would soon become his own.
"So you don't know."
Calix rose from his seat.
Within moments, Anthony's mouth was also gagged. A sound emerged—something between a strangled howl and the death cry of a wounded animal. His body convulsed wildly.
But this only fed Calix's fury.
"**This is all your fault, you bastards!**"
He hurled aside the red-hot iron. His hand found a skewer on the wall. Without hesitation, he plunged it into the horrific burn and *dragged* it down through the fresh wound.
Anthony's body stretched grotesquely against the chains—then spasmed.
In the basement, where not a single ray of light penetrated, the air grew thick with the reek of blood and scorched flesh.
"Because of *you*, creatures! You're not even insects—you're *worse*!"
These were the people who had tormented and humiliated Asella. They deserved this ending.
*Didn't they?*
Shouldn't she be grateful for her husband's merciless vengeance?
But his wife had fled. She had betrayed him. Abandoned him.
Calix's mind conjured the memory of her small body nestled trustingly against his chest. So soft. So warm. Her voice pleading for help—that quiet, unique tone—still rang clearly in his ears. That beautiful, gentle face. Those tear-filled eyes, swimming with gratitude.
*Was it all a hoax?*
A lie. A performance designed to lull him into false security, to make him enter the cage with the door left carelessly open. And the moment he'd stepped inside—she had fluttered out and raced away.
She had never intended to stay.
*It was nothing but deception and betrayal.*
The iron skewer clattered to the floor with a sound like breaking bones. Calix glared at Anthony—still convulsing, foam bubbling at his lips—then turned and walked away.
"That's enough for today." The words came clipped and cold. He wiped his hands on the black cloth Raizen offered.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Calix emerged from the torture chamber. Behind him, icy water splashed from buckets onto the heads of the unconscious prisoners. Raizen followed quickly, his footsteps echoing in the stone corridor.
The Archduke paced with barely contained rage.
Lord Cardon trailed in silence. Though his expression betrayed nothing, his concern for his master bordered on terror. Cold sweat beaded his forehead. His mouth had gone paper-dry.
*How did she do it?*
This was the worst possible situation. What would happen next was utterly impossible to predict.
---
The search that began in the Grand Duchess's chambers had alarmed Calix from the very first report.
> "Traces of magical use found."
Among Karma's members were skilled mages. Investigating the magical residue on the balcony, they had discovered that the first spell had been cast in Mariel's room.
"I would venture that Mariel has most likely awakened."
"Interesting." Calix had grinned while reading Karma's report—a nervous, twitching expression. Then he'd burst into terrible laughter.
That laughter had sent ice through everyone's veins.
*What would happen next?*
All guards, maids, and servants with any connection to the princess were immediately taken into custody. Even Margot was no exception.
The atmosphere at Benvito Castle grew so dangerous that people felt as though they walked on cracking ice. The entire staff moved with extreme caution—no one knew how to truly please their master now.
The same uncertainty plagued Raizen.
"**Find her.**"
The words jolted him from his thoughts—a voice deeper than he'd ever heard, echoing with desperate fury through the cold underground corridor.
"I am giving you complete control over Karma."
Lord Cardon swallowed dryly. He had hoped until the very end that the search might remain limited. But His Highness was consumed by obsession now.
Most of Karma's high-ranking members, including Zeke, were already actively searching. But they would need to accelerate. No one knew when their master would reach his breaking point.
"Yes, Your Highness." Raizen bowed low, resolved to carry out the order at any cost.
Calix's footsteps receded rapidly down the corridor.
---
## — Her Chambers —
At last, he could return to her rooms.
Calix opened the bedroom door with peculiar trepidation. The quiet space lay empty and immaculate, precisely as she had left it. Snow-white organza curtains filtered the midday sunlight into soft, dreamlike patterns on the walls.
His gaze moved hungrily across the room—the table, the chest of drawers, the bed where she had slept. Each object in turn.
Asella had spent barely a month here. Yet already, every corner had absorbed its owner's warmth.
The scented candle at the bedside reminded him of her favorite fragrance. On the vanity rested several pieces of jewelry she frequently wore. The desk drawer held various embroidery supplies—needles, threads, small hoops.
*Asella Benvito.*
He whispered the name like a prayer. He had always relished placing his surname after hers. It proclaimed her as his wife. Clear, irrefutable proof that they were bound together.
*Are you happy now?*
She belonged to him. Only to him. She was his woman. His *only* wife.
Calix stroked the sheets with an almost reverent touch. This was where he had watched her sleep. If he had been here last night—perhaps none of this would have happened.
*"So? Are you happy now?"*
The thought flashed unbidden through his mind.
By destroying the Charts family, he had severed every thread connecting her to her past. He had done it deliberately. So she would have nothing left. So she would have no choice but to depend on her husband. So he could possess her completely.
*I thought I had you trapped. But you tricked me. You escaped.*
It felt like only yesterday. In this very bedroom. After crying herself empty, after pleading endlessly for his help, she had fallen asleep in his arms.
*Perhaps it was exhaustion from the long journey... but her defenseless face made me...*
Calix refused to complete the thought.
He clenched his teeth. His fists tightened until his knuckles blanched white and veins stood out along his forearms.
*No.*
There was no other reason. He was simply furious that a woman bearing the Benvito name had betrayed him and fled, forgetting her duty.
He repeated this to himself. Again. And again.
The strange feelings that people sometimes spoke of—love, longing, need—had always seemed to him a weakness. One he could never admit to himself.
*Don't get your hopes up, my precious. This isn't the end.*
Asella's discovery was only a matter of time.
From all indications, Mariel Loktrin hadn't fully awakened yet. At full power, a single teleportation spell would have carried them beyond reach. But the search teams kept finding fragments of magic—traces left behind by two people moving in stages, their power insufficient for a clean escape.
With every border of the principality sealed, even if they had managed to travel a considerable distance, they would still be unable to leave Benvito's domain.
*Well. Enjoy your freedom while you can.*
Calix straightened from the bed, resolve hardening in his crimson eyes.
*The moment I find you—the moment I return you to this castle—this room will never be empty again.*
Prince Benvito never made the same mistake twice.