The joyous laughter of Lord Samain concealed his apprehension. He was a man who knew nothing about Iris, the woman he claimed to be his daughter. If he had known, he might not have approached the situation in this manner. Iris was, in fact, a remarkably strong-willed individual. She couldn’t tolerate her freedom being encroached upon, and above all, she valued her autonomy. Just as the victors of life couldn’t control her, those who sought to manipulate the lives of others couldn’t control her either. She was entirely her own person.
“Get up, wake up!”
Iris had chosen to sleep, but it was no ordinary slumber. She had completely submerged herself in sleep and remained unresponsive, no matter how vigorously Lord Samain shook her or even when he slapped her cheek. She lay there as if dead, her eyes refusing to open.
“Your Grace, she’s with a child!”
The attendant, alarmed, tried to console Lord Samain, but he was not to be deterred. He had been roughly handling Iris, and he roughly pushed her away. Iris’s body fell onto the soft bed, causing it to ripple.
“What’s happening?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. This woman is a sorceress, and her pregnancy is unlike any other. It’s peculiar, no matter how you look at it.”
Aghast, Lord Samain let out a scream of frustration, leaving those around him exchanging bewildered glances. They feared he might resort to violence or lose control. The secretary cautiously suggested, “Your Grace, should we send for a priest or perhaps a sorcerer?”
However, the knight in their escort shook his head.
“The royalists are searching for the queen right now. The king is out of his mind, searching for the queen tirelessly. We absolutely cannot.”
There were words that no one dared to utter aloud—treason. They had just committed treason. They had abducted the queen, who was carrying the king’s only heir. They had imprisoned and assaulted her, and now she lay in a completely unconscious state.
“Aaaargh!”
Iris heard the marquis’s voice in her dream. He was furious, shouting, and, at times, even threatening. Do you think I’ll just let your child be? If you want to save the child, open your eyes right now! It was a despicable form of coercion, but she steadfastly kept her eyes shut, pouring most of her magic into the fetus. Protecting the child was her top priority. The magic shackles drew power from the body. In other words, the shackles couldn’t exert their power within the body. People unfamiliar with magic believed that filling the shackles alone sealed the sorcerer’s magic, but in the world, there were always backdoors and exceptions. By choosing sleep, Iris had freed herself from the shackles.
She intended to endure this sleep-deprived state for as long as possible. While minimizing the toll on her body, she concentrated all her magic on the fetus, using residual magic to call for Sidrain.
Sid, listen to me. Sid.
If Sidrain entered her dreams, they could somehow meet, but he wasn’t entering her dream. He was supposed to be asleep. He needed to eat and sleep well. She knew it was impractical, but living that way would increase their chances of reuniting. She calculated every possibility. For the child and for herself to return alive.
Every possible chance they could find. That man, the marquis, seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with her, but their child was merely an obstacle in his eyes. He intended to kill the child, and that was why she must never wake up. What atrocities might he commit? How could she let him have his way?
“Sid, please, sleep. Listen to me. Sid, Sidrain. Please. Sid.”
Iris called out to Sid. Continuously, persistently.
****
One week ago, on a secluded path
Sidrain stared with cold, merciless eyes at the carriage bearing the royal insignia. It was now in ruins, and the lifeless bodies of lady knights in crimson armor lay scattered around. The number of lady knights’ bodies exactly matched the number of personnel who had escorted the queen.
The queen had been attacked, and, of all things, a blade had grazed her pregnant belly. The crowd that had gathered as if they were bandits erupted in excitement. Unfortunately, it was a time when guards were scarce. The king had gone ahead to the court, the queen had followed shortly after, Lord Samain had yet to arrive, and the tower had been sealed long ago. As nobles from all around converged as spectators for this trial, the security was grossly insufficient. It was common for a significant portion of the guards to accompany the king, especially when the king and queen moved separately. The queen had her own retinue of knights called the “Messengers,” and they were expected to ensure her safety.
However, when the riot broke out, the situation changed. The lady knights had to desperately stop the enraged mob, with the nearby guards assisting them in holding back the people. While the guards restrained the crowd, the lady knights cleared a path. With as few lady knights as possible, they carried the queen and jumped into the carriage. As soon as they were on board, they urged the carriage forward with urgency.
Unfortunately, their misfortune lay in crossing paths with Lord Samain’s carriage on a secluded road. Lord Samain, with a substantial force of soldiers, managed to pour his troops in, eventually succeeding in killing the lady knights, or “the Bladebearers,” with ten lives being taken for almost each lady knight. Lord Samain was a man who cared little for such matters. He was already reveling in the fact that Iris had lost consciousness.
He lifted her face with tenderness and turned the carriage toward the mansion. Lord Samain’s subordinates attended only to their fallen comrades, leaving the rest of the bodies untouched.
The grim scene spoke volumes. None of the lady knights appeared to have died without a fight. Their bodies were covered in blood as if they had resisted to the end. Investigators estimated that at least forty more had perished, but their words offered no comfort to Sidrain.
“Where is my queen?” His voice was eerily calm, sounding even more unhinged. No one dared to respond. Where was the queen, the queen whom the king loved so dearly, the queen who was indulged no matter what she did? Where was she?
“Sethang.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Seal all the borders.”
Seal all the borders? In this situation where they had no idea who had taken the queen, the intention was clear: prevent anyone from leaving the country. Clarence swallowed hard at the determination that was indifferent to any consequences.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Now!”
As Sidrain shouted, Clarence leaped into action to carry out the king’s orders. While he rushed to fulfill the royal command, Sidrain kept his gaze fixed on the carriage and called for the next person.
“Mutarion.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“All the gates in the capital must be sealed, and track down anyone who may have left.”
Retenday rushed out again.
“Sethang.”
Once again, Sethang was called upon. Elena in Sethang, the official representative of the queen, bowed deeply.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Check all the noblewomen and maids with Lady Shein, and report back if there was any collusion. Even if there’s a slight possibility.”
“Lady Sethang, if there was collusion, I shall certainly unearth it. Your Majesty, please rest assured.”
A cold fire ignited in Elena’s eyes. Sidrain, however, didn’t look in her direction and remained silent, staring at the damaged carriage.
Will Iris be safe?
The joyous laughter of Lord Samain concealed his apprehension. He was a man who knew nothing about Iris, the woman he claimed to be his daughter. If he had known, he might not have approached the situation in this manner. Iris was, in fact, a remarkably strong-willed individual. She couldn’t tolerate her freedom being encroached upon, and above all, she valued her autonomy. Just as the victors of life couldn’t control her, those who sought to manipulate the lives of others couldn’t control her either. She was entirely her own person.
“Get up, wake up!”
Iris had chosen to sleep, but it was no ordinary slumber. She had completely submerged herself in sleep and remained unresponsive, no matter how vigorously Lord Samain shook her or even when he slapped her cheek. She lay there as if dead, her eyes refusing to open.
“Your Grace, she’s with a child!”
The attendant, alarmed, tried to console Lord Samain, but he was not to be deterred. He had been roughly handling Iris, and he roughly pushed her away. Iris’s body fell onto the soft bed, causing it to ripple.
“What’s happening?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. This woman is a sorceress, and her pregnancy is unlike any other. It’s peculiar, no matter how you look at it.”
Aghast, Lord Samain let out a scream of frustration, leaving those around him exchanging bewildered glances. They feared he might resort to violence or lose control. The secretary cautiously suggested, “Your Grace, should we send for a priest or perhaps a sorcerer?”
However, the knight in their escort shook his head.
“The royalists are searching for the queen right now. The king is out of his mind, searching for the queen tirelessly. We absolutely cannot.”
There were words that no one dared to utter aloud—treason. They had just committed treason. They had abducted the queen, who was carrying the king’s only heir. They had imprisoned and assaulted her, and now she lay in a completely unconscious state.
“Aaaargh!”
Iris heard the marquis’s voice in her dream. He was furious, shouting, and, at times, even threatening. Do you think I’ll just let your child be? If you want to save the child, open your eyes right now! It was a despicable form of coercion, but she steadfastly kept her eyes shut, pouring most of her magic into the fetus. Protecting the child was her top priority. The magic shackles drew power from the body. In other words, the shackles couldn’t exert their power within the body. People unfamiliar with magic believed that filling the shackles alone sealed the sorcerer’s magic, but in the world, there were always backdoors and exceptions. By choosing sleep, Iris had freed herself from the shackles.
She intended to endure this sleep-deprived state for as long as possible. While minimizing the toll on her body, she concentrated all her magic on the fetus, using residual magic to call for Sidrain.
Sid, listen to me. Sid.
If Sidrain entered her dreams, they could somehow meet, but he wasn’t entering her dream. He was supposed to be asleep. He needed to eat and sleep well. She knew it was impractical, but living that way would increase their chances of reuniting. She calculated every possibility. For the child and for herself to return alive.
Every possible chance they could find. That man, the marquis, seemed to have an unhealthy obsession with her, but their child was merely an obstacle in his eyes. He intended to kill the child, and that was why she must never wake up. What atrocities might he commit? How could she let him have his way?
“Sid, please, sleep. Listen to me. Sid, Sidrain. Please. Sid.”
Iris called out to Sid. Continuously, persistently.
****
One week ago, on a secluded path
Sidrain stared with cold, merciless eyes at the carriage bearing the royal insignia. It was now in ruins, and the lifeless bodies of lady knights in crimson armor lay scattered around. The number of lady knights’ bodies exactly matched the number of personnel who had escorted the queen.
The queen had been attacked, and, of all things, a blade had grazed her pregnant belly. The crowd that had gathered as if they were bandits erupted in excitement. Unfortunately, it was a time when guards were scarce. The king had gone ahead to the court, the queen had followed shortly after, Lord Samain had yet to arrive, and the tower had been sealed long ago. As nobles from all around converged as spectators for this trial, the security was grossly insufficient. It was common for a significant portion of the guards to accompany the king, especially when the king and queen moved separately. The queen had her own retinue of knights called the “Messengers,” and they were expected to ensure her safety.
However, when the riot broke out, the situation changed. The lady knights had to desperately stop the enraged mob, with the nearby guards assisting them in holding back the people. While the guards restrained the crowd, the lady knights cleared a path. With as few lady knights as possible, they carried the queen and jumped into the carriage. As soon as they were on board, they urged the carriage forward with urgency.
Unfortunately, their misfortune lay in crossing paths with Lord Samain’s carriage on a secluded road. Lord Samain, with a substantial force of soldiers, managed to pour his troops in, eventually succeeding in killing the lady knights, or “the Bladebearers,” with ten lives being taken for almost each lady knight. Lord Samain was a man who cared little for such matters. He was already reveling in the fact that Iris had lost consciousness.
He lifted her face with tenderness and turned the carriage toward the mansion. Lord Samain’s subordinates attended only to their fallen comrades, leaving the rest of the bodies untouched.
The grim scene spoke volumes. None of the lady knights appeared to have died without a fight. Their bodies were covered in blood as if they had resisted to the end. Investigators estimated that at least forty more had perished, but their words offered no comfort to Sidrain.
“Where is my queen?” His voice was eerily calm, sounding even more unhinged. No one dared to respond. Where was the queen, the queen whom the king loved so dearly, the queen who was indulged no matter what she did? Where was she?
“Sethang.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Seal all the borders.”
Seal all the borders? In this situation where they had no idea who had taken the queen, the intention was clear: prevent anyone from leaving the country. Clarence swallowed hard at the determination that was indifferent to any consequences.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Now!”
As Sidrain shouted, Clarence leaped into action to carry out the king’s orders. While he rushed to fulfill the royal command, Sidrain kept his gaze fixed on the carriage and called for the next person.
“Mutarion.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“All the gates in the capital must be sealed, and track down anyone who may have left.”
Retenday rushed out again.
“Sethang.”
Once again, Sethang was called upon. Elena in Sethang, the official representative of the queen, bowed deeply.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Check all the noblewomen and maids with Lady Shein, and report back if there was any collusion. Even if there’s a slight possibility.”
“Lady Sethang, if there was collusion, I shall certainly unearth it. Your Majesty, please rest assured.”
A cold fire ignited in Elena’s eyes. Sidrain, however, didn’t look in her direction and remained silent, staring at the damaged carriage.
Will Iris be safe?
