“Your Majesty?”
At Yasiris's call, Kazan turned his gaze from the past to examine it in the present.
Her young face now bore a stern and mature expression.
Especially when she turned to him, her eyes emanated nothing but negative emotions, impossible to ignore.
Yasiris could no longer love Kazan.
It was an established fact, as absurd as it was to entertain even a moment of doubt.
“Empress.”
“You summoned me.”
Kazan stared at her in silence, his gaze lingering on Yasiris's deadpan response.
Such a cold and specific relationship was appropriate for them.
Since she had betrayed him, and he had committed irreversible acts, any remaining remorse was in vain.
So, what stopped him was not remorse, but simply…
Was it possession?
Or desire?
Kazan stopped exploring his twisted feelings.
Whatever it was, he had a task at hand.
“For whatever reason, you caused Ronelia pain.”
“I won't deny it”
“Then you should reciprocate.”
“…as you wish”
Israis lowered her gaze.
Now, she waited with a face that seemed to have given up on any attempt at retaliation for Kazan's impending violence.
Although she had been treated harshly by him, she had never been beaten before.
So, this will be the first.
She pushed aside her faint fear and misery, and steeled herself.
It's better to take a hit and be done with it than risk sparks flying elsewhere.
So, isn't this the best?
Yasiris took a shallow breath, mentally braced herself, but shuddered when Kazan's hand rose.
She closed her eyes.
However, what followed was far from what I expected.
tear-
“…!
Wait, ah!”
“Resistance will not make things more beautiful.”
Yasiris, agitated because the front of her dress was torn, tried to push away the approaching Kazan, but was stopped in her tracks at his whispering growl, biting her earlobe.
The tenderness of her stunned body gave in when he violently pushed her aside.
She hadn't even taken five steps back when Kazan leaned down with one arm to grab her waist as she stumbled, on the verge of falling from an incorrect foothold.
Startled by the unexpected turn of events, Yasaris stuttered as she found her voice.
“The pain, I'll repay it...!
Ah!”
“Literally.
This time, it won't be so noble.”
When was he so noble towards Israes?
Yusrais wanted to protest, but her thoughts were scattered between her hands, which were searching through her torn dress.
Out of reflex, she grabbed Kazan's arm, but as her weight shifted back, she ended up clinging to him instead.
“It is the reception hall, Your Majesty!”
“So?”
“I'd rather have a bedroom instead...”
Despite Yasiris' desperate pleas, Kazan remained indifferent.
He bit her exposed neck, causing enough pain to make her shiver.
Yasiris, unable to escape his embrace and writhing helplessly in his arms, her movements incoherent, her breaths intermittent, felt a surge of pain-laden moans flowing through her.
Although he wanted to hear more of those painful groans, he also wanted to swallow them all.
“Your Majesty...”
Even now, just the trembling of her voice when she screamed stirred him to the core.
What if her heart had already left?
And yet, here she was, at Kazan's mercy, and only he could touch her and play with her like this.
It still belongs to Kazan.
"What!"
“You complain too much about someone who receives punishment.”
“Is this what punishment looks like...!”
Yasiris reflexively clung to Kazan as her body floated, an instinct to prevent herself from falling.
His burning red eyes stared intently into her hard blue ones, as if they were going to devour them.
“Make sure you hold on tight, Empress.”
Otherwise, you may fall.
Even if it's just for you, hold on to me.
I won't let you go.
...It's definitely not because I'm attached to you.
Kazan repeated to himself.
“Oh…”
Israis moved slightly before letting out a soft groan as she was awakened by the feeling of her entire body being pulled to the ground.
The blurry tears from her time with Kazan made it difficult for her to see clearly.
She reflexively rubbed her eyes to clear them, and raised her hand, only for every part attached to her arm to scream in agony.
Yasiris barely managed to suppress her screams, giving in to her attempts and letting her body go limp.
Trying to restore her tired mind as she curled up on the bed only invited her back to sleep.
It felt like a long time had passed, she was left alone in the dimly lit bedroom instead of the parlor, but somehow her body's exhaustion remained the same.
She didn't realize that she just lost consciousness, and didn't fall asleep.
“Oh...”
Enemy ownership.
Only two words, but they bothered her greatly.
She thought she had become indifferent recently, but after hugging him again for no apparent reason, she felt a vague sense of sadness.
When will you be able to escape this lifestyle?
Can she return to Beren?
And if she did, would anyone welcome her back?
“…I need a shower”
Yasiris rose consciously.
She made an effort to shake off the endless stream of negative thoughts and lowered her feet to the floor under the bed.
She couldn't bear to break down just yet.
At least while her homeland was in her husband's hands, she needed to move, even if it was as a shell of herself.
In this way, she might still have some value as an empress.
Israris forcibly swallowed down the toxic feelings bubbling up inside her.
To turn her attention elsewhere, she clapped her hands twice, activating the magic chandelier.
She closed her eyes for a moment at the lit ocean before heading towards the bathroom.
As she moved, trying to ignore the tingling sensation in her skin, not just her muscles, she found herself involuntarily stopping in front of the mirror.
“What on earth is happening...”
Yasiris was confused as she examined her body.
She expected her condition to be bad, but the reddish state was beyond her imagination.
If you think about it, you might have endured a groan from the middle of the reception room.
Rumors must already be spreading about what happened.
The Empress, who previously maintained her composure, is now gradually revealing her true colors, and participating in affairs openly?
Did the Empress intentionally show evidence of jealousy toward the other wife and brag about the effects of the affair with the Emperor?
It was a ridiculous assumption.
However, despite knowing this, Yasiris was somewhat convinced that her predictions were correct.
Unfair treatment, unfounded rumours, and unjustified scrutiny.
Since arriving in the Ozevia Empire, she had witnessed countless such incidents.
Yasiris clenched her fist.
Just remembering the shuddering past sent shivers down her spine several times.
At first, she was angry when she heard the whispers about her.
I argued and fought.
Instead of avoiding or hiding, she faced the nobles head on, and did her best to fight for herself and her country's honor.
But it was useless.
The Emperor, the culprit behind all this, did not raise his hand to help her.
As an empress who could not exercise any significant power, there was nothing she could do.
Instead, she lived only to be made fun of.
Yasiris bit her lip.
No matter how much he was her husband, she then realized that she should not expect anything from an enemy.
This perception is still true.
You can tell just by looking at her tense neck and wrists.
Kazan, who left glaring marks in places that were difficult to hide during the summer days, seemed unconcerned by how much her reputation was tarnished.
Or maybe he did it intentionally, fully aware of the consequences.
“Like a monster...”
Yasiris mumbled quietly, tracing the remaining bite marks on her skin with her fingertips, as if marking their area.
She glanced at the crimson spots deeply etched in the mirror with a frown before turning away.
It was as if he had unleashed the undisclosed violence of his beloved Empress Runeelia upon her.
Thinking of Runelia's white neck made her feel even more frustrated for no apparent reason.
As if to avoid her miserable situation, she passed the mirror and entered the bathroom, where the lights turned on automatically.
Contrary to custom, Yasiris did not think to call a maid to take a bath.
Rather than endure the scrutiny of her husband's servants, she preferred to be alone.
“Ah…”
Yasiris sank into the charming bathtub filled with warm water and stared sleepily at the ceiling.
Her thin platinum hair floated on the surface of the water, clinging to her skin.
What should Yasiris do now?
If the Empress officially entered the palace, the situation would only get worse than it was now.
Yasiris closed her eyes.
The water flowing around her neck felt unusually heavy, and as if her throat had become sleepy.
Different ideas about intangible threats came and went before they faded away.
Amidst the drifting consciousness, a thought suddenly stopped at a certain point.
"if …"