“I-I’m fine. I’m reaching the limits of the magic I’ve set. I’m using most of my magical power to protect the fetus. So, Sid, please come save me. I can’t do it on my own here.”
A fetus!
Sidrain barely held back his shout of realization. He clung to the vanishing Iris, but she continued to fade, melting into the darkness.
“Ris, listen carefully. Nothing else matters. Nothing is more important than you, okay?”
“Huh.”
“Be it the fetus, me, or anything else! There’s nothing more important than you! So, please, Reese, please, okay?”
Faced with an unimaginable choice,
When confronted with such a cruel situation,
Please, choose yourself. Not as a fetus. It’s okay if you don’t choose me; just choose yourself.
Sidrain’s heartfelt prayer reached the fading Iris. He pleaded with her, begged for any response until she vanished completely, leaving nothing but silence.
Suddenly, Sidrain rose to his feet, his determination unwavering. In an instant, he left the room, needing only a sword. He might be losing his sanity, but he knew deep down that this was most likely just a dream. A dream he had yearned for so desperately. Hadn’t he contemplated it before succumbing to slumber? His name was Samain. He shouldn’t let himself be swayed by a mere dream.
But how could he?
It had been Iris. Sidrain slapped his own cheek in realization. Who else but Iris would dare slap him to snap him out of it? A dream or not, was he really going to refuse her? “My lady, my queen,” she had said she was there, so how could he ignore her and consider her the opposite gender?
It was still dawn, and the world remained oblivious to what had transpired.
Sidrain entered Rosemary’s room, having taken the lives of fourteen individuals on his way here. They had broken his neck and slashed him with a sword. The circumstances hadn’t mattered. The Marquis de Samain’s private soldiers were now his foes and insurgents, the ones who had abducted his queen. Survival had meant fleeing before or when the Marquis de Samain made his move. They had chosen that insane man, the Marquis Samaine, over the law and the royal family, and now they were paying the price.
If she wasn’t here.
If she was nowhere to be found, Sidrain would find himself in a precarious situation. The Marquis de Samain might accuse him of madness, and Parliament could hold a trial. But Sidrain didn’t dwell on such considerations. There was only one thing that consumed his thoughts.
If she wasn’t here, where in the world could she be?
If this was just her dream, then where was her reality…?
That was the only thing that truly terrified him. Everything else was of no concern. Sidrain moved forward slowly.
“Iris!”
Thankfully, Iris lay asleep in Rosemary’s bed. Sidrain rushed to her side without a moment’s hesitation.
Regrettably, Iris was in a terrible state. She appeared emaciated, her face and exposed body marred with bruises, clear signs of physical assault. Sidrain clenched his hands into fists as they trembled uncontrollably. He desperately tried to halt the convulsions, but they persisted, relentless and unyielding.
Someone had harmed Iris.
Sidrain wasted no time. He swiftly lifted Iris, hoisted her over his shoulder, and hurled the dimly burning lamp onto the bed. In an instant, flames erupted, serving as a signal.
“Find Kurtlan Samain!” Sidraine bellowed.
With that command, the door to Marquis Samain’s mansion was shattered.
Sidrain leaped from Rosemary’s bedroom window to a tree branch, tightly clutching Iris. They descended to a lower branch, which promptly gave way under their combined weight. As they passed by, countless royal knights, guards, and capital army soldiers shouted. Find the Marquis de Samain! Identify and apprehend the perpetrator!
“Was it really here…?” Count Pow Portwall, who had previously been opposed to the mission, looked at Sidrain with a puzzled expression but fell silent upon seeing the queen cradled in Sidraine’s arms. Her face was battered, bearing clear evidence of repeated abuse.
“This…,” Retendon, standing beside Count Pow, offered his support.
“Fetch Samain. Save me,” Sidrain stated with an expression devoid of emotion, never pausing his stride. In that single utterance, he conveyed the king’s decree to bring Samain to justice, alive.
“Yes, Your Highness. I will ensure he is captured alive and brought to you,” Retendon pledged before rushing off.
Sidrain carried Iris, who remained unconscious, slowly making his way to the waiting carriage. Each step was excruciating, and the thought of what she must have endured during the week he couldn’t find her tormented him. What could he do? How could he possibly avenge her suffering and alleviate their shared pain, if only by a fraction?
Ris, what should I do?
As the sun rose on the world, a brilliant light approached from the horizon. Sidrain climbed into the carriage, cradling Iris in his arms. He said nothing as the carriage followed the path of the burgeoning dawn. His breaths came easier now, something that had eluded him for far too long, all while he held the love he had finally rediscovered. The scent of her flesh filled his senses, and as he barely clung to survival, the seeds of his fury grew rapidly, twining into endless vines.
“I-I’m fine. I’m reaching the limits of the magic I’ve set. I’m using most of my magical power to protect the fetus. So, Sid, please come save me. I can’t do it on my own here.”
A fetus!
Sidrain barely held back his shout of realization. He clung to the vanishing Iris, but she continued to fade, melting into the darkness.
“Ris, listen carefully. Nothing else matters. Nothing is more important than you, okay?”
“Huh.”
“Be it the fetus, me, or anything else! There’s nothing more important than you! So, please, Reese, please, okay?”
Faced with an unimaginable choice,
When confronted with such a cruel situation,
Please, choose yourself. Not as a fetus. It’s okay if you don’t choose me; just choose yourself.
Sidrain’s heartfelt prayer reached the fading Iris. He pleaded with her, begged for any response until she vanished completely, leaving nothing but silence.
Suddenly, Sidrain rose to his feet, his determination unwavering. In an instant, he left the room, needing only a sword. He might be losing his sanity, but he knew deep down that this was most likely just a dream. A dream he had yearned for so desperately. Hadn’t he contemplated it before succumbing to slumber? His name was Samain. He shouldn’t let himself be swayed by a mere dream.
But how could he?
It had been Iris. Sidrain slapped his own cheek in realization. Who else but Iris would dare slap him to snap him out of it? A dream or not, was he really going to refuse her? “My lady, my queen,” she had said she was there, so how could he ignore her and consider her the opposite gender?
It was still dawn, and the world remained oblivious to what had transpired.
Sidrain entered Rosemary’s room, having taken the lives of fourteen individuals on his way here. They had broken his neck and slashed him with a sword. The circumstances hadn’t mattered. The Marquis de Samain’s private soldiers were now his foes and insurgents, the ones who had abducted his queen. Survival had meant fleeing before or when the Marquis de Samain made his move. They had chosen that insane man, the Marquis Samaine, over the law and the royal family, and now they were paying the price.
If she wasn’t here.
If she was nowhere to be found, Sidrain would find himself in a precarious situation. The Marquis de Samain might accuse him of madness, and Parliament could hold a trial. But Sidrain didn’t dwell on such considerations. There was only one thing that consumed his thoughts.
If she wasn’t here, where in the world could she be?
If this was just her dream, then where was her reality…?
That was the only thing that truly terrified him. Everything else was of no concern. Sidrain moved forward slowly.
“Iris!”
Thankfully, Iris lay asleep in Rosemary’s bed. Sidrain rushed to her side without a moment’s hesitation.
Regrettably, Iris was in a terrible state. She appeared emaciated, her face and exposed body marred with bruises, clear signs of physical assault. Sidrain clenched his hands into fists as they trembled uncontrollably. He desperately tried to halt the convulsions, but they persisted, relentless and unyielding.
Someone had harmed Iris.
Sidrain wasted no time. He swiftly lifted Iris, hoisted her over his shoulder, and hurled the dimly burning lamp onto the bed. In an instant, flames erupted, serving as a signal.
“Find Kurtlan Samain!” Sidraine bellowed.
With that command, the door to Marquis Samain’s mansion was shattered.
Sidrain leaped from Rosemary’s bedroom window to a tree branch, tightly clutching Iris. They descended to a lower branch, which promptly gave way under their combined weight. As they passed by, countless royal knights, guards, and capital army soldiers shouted. Find the Marquis de Samain! Identify and apprehend the perpetrator!
“Was it really here…?” Count Pow Portwall, who had previously been opposed to the mission, looked at Sidrain with a puzzled expression but fell silent upon seeing the queen cradled in Sidraine’s arms. Her face was battered, bearing clear evidence of repeated abuse.
“This…,” Retendon, standing beside Count Pow, offered his support.
“Fetch Samain. Save me,” Sidrain stated with an expression devoid of emotion, never pausing his stride. In that single utterance, he conveyed the king’s decree to bring Samain to justice, alive.
“Yes, Your Highness. I will ensure he is captured alive and brought to you,” Retendon pledged before rushing off.
Sidrain carried Iris, who remained unconscious, slowly making his way to the waiting carriage. Each step was excruciating, and the thought of what she must have endured during the week he couldn’t find her tormented him. What could he do? How could he possibly avenge her suffering and alleviate their shared pain, if only by a fraction?
Ris, what should I do?
As the sun rose on the world, a brilliant light approached from the horizon. Sidrain climbed into the carriage, cradling Iris in his arms. He said nothing as the carriage followed the path of the burgeoning dawn. His breaths came easier now, something that had eluded him for far too long, all while he held the love he had finally rediscovered. The scent of her flesh filled his senses, and as he barely clung to survival, the seeds of his fury grew rapidly, twining into endless vines.
