Several days later, Elise found herself in the midst of a peculiar dream. In it, a black scale descended from the heavens, landing softly upon her outstretched palm. Glittering like obsidian yet as delicate as a feather, it shattered into countless particles upon closer inspection. The fragments transformed into a swirling mist that enveloped Elise, seeping into her skin and suffusing her with a comforting warmth that radiated throughout her entire being.
Startled awake, Elise found herself cradled in a wide embrace, the familiar presence of her lover comforting her. Although he remained silent as always, his gentle closeness reassured her. Gazing up at him, she attempted to rouse him from his slumber.
“Are you asleep?” she whispered, lightly shaking his face.
His handsome features twitched slightly, and with closed eyes, Rezette murmured in a sleepy voice, “Please sleep more.”
Elise sighed softly, content to remain in his embrace a little longer. As she nestled closer, inhaling his familiar scent, she felt her worries melt away. Gradually, his breathing steadied.
There was no indication that he would awaken anytime soon. Rezette lay there with closed eyes and lips sealed in a serene slumber, appearing remarkably composed.
Elise stole a glance at her husband before gently pressing her ear against his bare chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat resonated clearly in her ears. It was the first time she had seen Rezette asleep by her side.
…Have I finally earned his trust? Elise pondered silently. She couldn’t discern what had brought him solace, but understanding Rezette had long been an exercise in futility. What mattered was that the formidable wall of his doubts seemed to have softened, if only slightly.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Elise’s lips. Whatever she had done seemed to have made an impact. That was enough for now. Once cracks appeared in the wall, it was only a matter of time before it crumbled entirely.
Elise’s intuition proved correct before long.
***
Ten days passed, and the Harvest Festival commenced. Elise stood atop the outer ramparts of Rotiara Castle, meticulously adjusting her crimson cloak to conceal her figure. Beside her stood Rezette, a suggestion of his that she reluctantly followed. Though the cloak hid her slender form, Elise wasn’t entirely comfortable with the arrangement. Yet, she acquiesced to avoid any actions that might rebuff Rezette’s overture.
Below, the square bustled with activity as crowds gathered to celebrate the season of harvest and plenty. Countless eyes were fixed upon Elise, awaiting her appearance.
Rezette gently guided Elise to face him, pausing to adjust the strap of her hood. Despite her reservations, she allowed herself to be guided by his touch.
“Should you… reveal your face?” Rezette hesitated, his uncertainty palpable.
Would it be wise to unveil her countenance?
Elise appeared more radiant than ever today. At Lady Pettison’s insistence, she had adorned herself for the first time since arriving at Rotiara. Her complexion glowed with health, and her enigmatic silver hair was adorned with glistening pearl ornaments. Beneath the cloak, she wore a golden dress symbolizing abundance, with a silver-embroidered tunic fluttering beneath.
Rezette’s impulse to reach out and remove her hood was undeniable. However, he ensured only a glimpse of her exquisite profile and the beauty of her locks would be revealed.
“Rezette? What…?” Elise’s voice held a hint of confusion.
“Just a moment,” Rezette replied, gently restraining her hands as he adjusted her hood. “Just a moment, so everyone can witness your beauty today.”
As Elise’s long silver hair cascaded like waves against the crimson sky, she turned her head in astonishment, realizing her profile was on display to the crowd. Even with just a fleeting glimpse of her half-revealed face, admiration rippled through the onlookers.
That was enough.
Just as it seemed sufficient, Rezette wrapped her once more in his cloak. Elise nestled into his embrace as if seeking refuge. “Don’t. It’s scary…” she murmured softly, her eyes wide like a startled squirrel.
Her unexpected reaction elicited laughter. And as Elise’s expression transformed from one of annoyance to something softer, the tension between them dissipated.
Ah…
The man’s face bore no trace of doubt or wariness, only an unabashed vanity that matched his desires. Lazy satisfaction lingered in the neatly curved lines of his eyes, signifying one thing unmistakably—freedom. Released from the chains that bound her, unshackled at last.
Elise couldn’t contain her elation as laughter and sighs mingled on her lips. “What’s with that expression?” he inquired.
Elise buried her face in his chest, muttering thoughtlessly, “You seem to enjoy seeing me in trouble? You’re mean, really.”
I’m glad you seem to trust me, she thought silently, her heart swelling with determination. Because of that, I now have a chance to break free. I won’t miss this opportunity.
Below the castle, the people cheered for the lord of Rotiara. A voice began to sing the folk songs of the land, carrying the hopes and dreams of generations:
“May the era of peace come,
Where Tenne and Grenthern’s spirits roam,
Amidst harsh winters, verdant pastures thrive…”
Rotiara, once plagued by the invasions of neighboring countries, had found itself in the hands of Rezette. Despite his identity as a dragon and Elise’s origins as a princess of an enemy nation, the people cared only for the promise of peace.
The song, initiated by a few, swelled into a resounding chorus that reverberated through the air:
“May peace come to this blessed land,
Where the scars of old are laid to rest,
Sing of the eternal seasons of gold,
May the era of peace come.”
Rezette tenderly caressed his wife’s hair as they gazed down at the castle below. It had been ages since he’d felt this sense of tranquility within his own domain. Here, in his own secluded kingdom, he found solace knowing that nothing could be wrested away from him.
Meanwhile, Elise’s eyes, hidden beneath her hood, darkened with a touch of melancholy. “It feels like returning to Argan,” she murmured softly to herself. Whenever there was a royal event, the people beyond the palace walls would sing songs of love and reverence for her. She recalled the lyrics that bore her name, the voices of the multitude swelling into a chorus of adoration:
“The child soon to be born shall grace us as a princess fair!”
“May divine love and blessings shower upon thee!”
Turning away from the countless adoring gazes, Elise felt a pang of unease mingled with the overwhelming emotions stirred within her.
As the harvest season drew to a close after fortnights of celebration, Rezette’s only remaining task before the onset of winter was to lead the expedition with the punitive force.
