Chapter 33.2

“Yes,” Ivetsa replied without hesitation.

Elise’s voice trembled with concern, “You won’t report it to the Emperor? If my true situation is exposed, it won’t be safe for you either.”

“His Grace is unaware of this, isn’t he? If it comes to that, I’ll use his name as a shield,” Ivetsa reassured her.

Relief washed over Elise. At least through Ivetsa, there would be no leak of the truth about her fabricated pregnancy. Slowly, the tension that had gripped Elise’s tightly clenched lips began to ease, allowing a sense of comfort to settle in.

Yet, Ivetsa’s countenance remained clouded with worry.

“But, Your Highness, don’t you desire to reign? Please reconsider your decision.”

Elise’s brows furrowed in confusion, prompting her to question, “Why?”

“It’s a terrible fate, isn’t it? To be branded a sinner as a woman impregnated by a dragon. You shouldn’t willingly accept it when you’re fully aware of the truth. Especially since His Grace remains oblivious…”

The room fell silent, heavy with unspoken words.

“If you’re concerned about the well-being of the people of Rotiara, you have the option to declare that the child was stillborn at an appropriate time. It would raise no suspicion,” Ivetsa suggested, her voice laced with concern.

Elise sighed, her expression tinged with weariness. “But if I do that, the Van Yela Royal Family won’t simply let me be. My very worth and existence would be tied solely to an unborn child.”

Ivetsa couldn’t help but express her dismay. “Why are you so nonchalant about saying such a thing…”

Elise responded with a faint smile, her eyes carrying a quiet resolve.

Indeed, the physician’s blunt explanation had caught Elise off guard. However, she possessed a wealth of knowledge and information far more reliable and trustworthy than the physician’s words.

Within the Argan Royal Family, there were countless hidden tales about the Great Dragon Sameshita and his disciple Gallian, stories that were passed down secretly.

Whenever Elise found herself bored or burdened with melancholy, Andrei would guide her to the palace’s chapel. Beneath the altar, nestled in the underground tombs alongside the remains of their ancestors, slumbered the hidden archives of House Argan, safeguarding ancient secrets.

Within the hidden archives lay the tales of a time when Sameshita, now revered as the Great Dragon, was not yet known by that name. The records recounted the extraordinary bond between Sameshita and his disciple Gallian, detailing the countless magic circles inherited and developed by the latter under the dragon’s tutelage. Among those records rested the ultimate fate of Gallian, an enigma unknown anywhere else on the continent, and the elusive reason why the Argan royal bloodline endured across generations, evading the wrath of the dragon.

It was through these ancient chronicles that Elise found solace and a glimmer of certainty. Her voice, a mere murmur, carried a profound weight.

“If there is a woman in this world whom Rezette Kyrstan can trust wholeheartedly, it would be me.”

Ivetsa remained silent, understanding the gravity of Elise’s words.

“I may face hardships along the way, but I refuse to meet a wretched end. I know that deep within, and that conviction has brought me this far.”

Yet, the challenge lay in maintaining an unwavering facade.

Elise’s gaze fixated upon the closed door of her bedroom, her thoughts drifting towards the uncertainties that awaited her tomorrow and the days to come. Would he come to visit her?

Forcefully, Elise severed her train of thought. Today marked the first day she was dispatched to Rotiara. There was no need to be impatient.


Late into the night, the study of the duke was finally illuminated by the flickering glow of lamps.

“The Princess has made significant progress. With proper rest and timely meals, regaining her strength shouldn’t pose much difficulty,” the physician remarked, the scent of freshness mingling with the air. It was a fragrance that Rezette found unmistakably associated with Rotiara.

Seated at a table crafted from red sandalwood, Rezette found himself surrounded by dozens of neatly arranged parchment papers. These documents, detailing reports on territorial management, were spread out before him. However, the words exchanged in that moment delved beyond matters of governance.

“It appears that there are no lingering effects from the incident. There seems to be no immediate cause for concern,” Freya, the physician who had tended to Elise earlier in the day, informed him respectfully.

“You conveyed my message clearly?” Rezette inquired.

“Of course. In addition to the information you provided, I relayed every detail I am aware of,” Freya replied without hesitation.

“And even after hearing such revelations, she remained composed?” Rezette’s lips curved into a smirk. His innocent, dewy eyes blinked as he recalled the woman who had nestled intimately against him, her touch teasing his lower abdomen.

A barely perceptible glimmer of amusement danced at the edge of his tightly pressed lips.

“She’s fearless, it seems,” he mused aloud.

Or perhaps, he pondered, it wasn’t a matter of fearlessness or apathy. Could it be that she held her own convictions, harboring a separate belief in a place unknown to him?

Yet, amidst these musings, a single point of suspicion arose, casting a shadow of doubt over his thoughts.



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