Rezette gently placed the hood over Elise’s head once more, his lips tenderly brushing against her nose bridge. “Will you manage on your own?” he inquired softly.
“I’m not a child,” Elise replied with a hint of amusement. “I’ll sleep well and eat well. Even if you miss me, endure it.”
“It seems the burden falls solely on me then,” Rezette remarked with a seriousness etched upon his face. “Enduring until the end of the month might prove to be quite challenging.”
Elise responded with a serene smile, resembling a doll in her beauty and as quiet as a prized possession.
***
As planned, Rezette cleared the castle of inhabitants. Until the moment of departure, he wrestled with his thoughts repeatedly. This time, the encroaching madness seemed more pronounced than anticipated.
Only Rezette himself could intuit the impending danger. It wasn’t merely a matter of allowing bloodshed to pass unchecked this time. The madness of desire presented itself in two formidable branches: the urge to kill and overwhelming sexual desire. A sinister premonition suggested the latter this time, perhaps a consequence of indulging excessively in carnal pleasures.
Regardless of its manifestation, Elise had to be kept at a distance. Even if it meant delaying the departure of the punitive force for hours, the decision remained unchanged. Rezette swallowed his curses relentlessly, grappling with his inner turmoil.
“Why am I like this…?” he lamented quietly.
“There’s nothing wrong; you’re handsome,” Elise reassured him, her words seeming to drift past his concerns.
“That’s not what I meant.” Rezette pressed a kiss to Elise’s cheek, her nonsensical remarks momentarily forgotten. The temptation to kiss her lips lingered, but he resisted, knowing he couldn’t stop once he started.
As he pulled away without succumbing to the impulse, Elise’s expression briefly shifted into one of curiosity before melting into a gentle smile as she waved him off.
It would be a while before the echo of his heavy footsteps faded into the distance.
***
As Rezette departed from Rotiara, those who had eagerly awaited his absence, stifled by the Duke’s imposing presence, surged in as if released from a dam.
It all began with a missive from the imperial palace. According to its contents, following the conclusion of the harvest festival and the punitive expedition, a period of leisure until the next spring was anticipated, prompting plans for extensive envoy dispatches to Rotiara.
Elise’s gaze skimmed over the letter from the emperor, a man who had long discarded any pretense of dignity. There had been no response to their last communication. Was it necessary to consult his beloved wife even for such trivial matters?
[“For the past six months, you have luxuriated in freedom without concern. It is now time to fulfill your duties and obligations to your master. Should you persist in ignoring my earnest missives, I may be compelled to personally visit Rotiara and retrieve the princess.”]
Taking me away personally… Did the emperor detect something amiss? Elise pondered. Noting the dispatch schedule, with envoys expected to arrive by early October, Elise solidified her escape plan.
“When Rezette returns, it will already be too late. Within the next week, at the first opportunity when the knights’ shifts provide a window, we must depart,” Elise insisted, urgency lacing her tone.
However, her movements were hindered by an unexpected ailment. Strangely, she hadn’t felt well since the conclusion of the harvest festival.
“Perhaps it’s because you were exposed to the cold that day. You seem to have a slight fever,” Ivetsa remarked with concern.
“Ah, really,” Elise muttered, unable to conceal her frustration. Her ire was directed not at Ivetsa, but at her own wretched physical state.
As the crucial dates drew near, despite her efforts to remain composed, tension coiled within her, manifesting as weakness and lethargy. Even the slightest exertion left her feeling drained. Minor digestive discomforts became more frequent, her hypersensitive body reacting acutely to any disturbance.
At such an important time, what good is this useless body… Elise lamented inwardly.
Thankfully, her steadfast servant Ivetsa proved to be a valuable aid. Packing was swiftly underway, although there wasn’t much to prepare.
As Ivetsa sifted through the contents of the dressing room, she remarked with a playful sigh, “What a waste these dresses are. You could wear one every day for months and still not use everything. Such a pity.”
“They were never truly mine to begin with,” Elise responded dismissively, though inwardly she marveled at the sheer volume of garments crammed into the closet, most of them gifts from the Duke.
“They belong to you, Your Highness. All gifts from His Highness, the Duke. Nevertheless, there’s nothing here truly worth taking,” Ivetsa concluded.
“…Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Elise agreed, her thoughts elsewhere as she contemplated the impending departure.
The array of gifts from Rezette left Elise feeling oddly unsettled. Though she had been aware of their presence in the dressing room, it was the first time she truly took stock of them.
In truth, the collection rivaled the opulence of her wardrobe back at Argan Palace, if not surpassed it. The fabrics were of the finest quality, the craftsmanship impeccable. As her fingers trailed over the delicate embroidery of a stunning blue dress, a pang of regret tugged at her heart.
“I’ll be leaving without even having tried most of them on. Yet, they’re all gifts…” Elise murmured softly, her voice tinged with melancholy.
