A week later, Irene had successfully passed the eliminations and officially became Prince Rung's advisor. Her new role granted her frequent access to the palace, but despite her growing influence, she couldn't help but feel a sense of irritation whenever the black-haired knight followed her around while she was working. She hated his playful teases during their free time about revealing information to the rebels; his mockery grated on her nerves.
"Have you finally found any juicy secrets you're willing to share with our friends in the resistance?" he asked through telepathy, making her glare at him.
Irene sighed and rested her head against the chair's cushion. Most of the information I handle pertains to community relations and public affairs. Rung isn't involved in the intelligence operations, so there's nothing critical I can relay. She thought as she pressed her index finger to her temple.
"Zera, you should be writing those reports instead of slacking there," he communicated again through her mind, earning a scoff from her.
That afternoon, Prince Rung extended an invitation to Irene to join him at the lantern festival. It was an annual event celebrated with floating lanterns that lit up the night sky. Irene, feeling it was part of her duties, agreed to go. As they approached the small dock where a boat awaited them, she couldn't help but notice the knight standing nearby, his eyes fixed on her. Despite his stoic expression, she knew he was waiting for his chance to push her buttons. It was as if she thought he had some weird fetish for making her angry or annoyed.
Rung helped her into the boat. They sat facing each other as he began to row them out onto the lake. Irene finds it funny if she killed him there, wouldn't it be scandalous for him to float headless in the lake after the festival? She loved that idea, but she forced a smile as he tried to extend his words to her, narrating about the old tradition. After a few more minutes, as the darkness settled in, Rung grabbed the lantern and asked her to light it. A smile etched his lips as the light illuminated Irene's face. Soon, lanterns floated in the air as the festival started.
After an hour, he rowed them back to the shore, where the black-haired knight waited for their presence. He did not move an inch on his spot, and Irene marveled at his blank expression, which contrasted his troubled eyes. As Irene disembarked, the boat wobbled slightly as they reached the shore, causing Irene to reach out for balance instinctively. The knight stepped closer to her direction in a flash, and without thinking, he grabbed Irene's hand, steadying her. The moment their hands touched, a certain spark passed between them. But before Irene could react, Rung's face darkened with jealousy. He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he demanded.
"Let go," Rung ordered, grabbing Irene's wrist firmly. "I can take care of her."
One week later
Irene's eyes widened as she saw Hyberion pulling out a formal letter sealed with the royal family's crest. "It seems that Prince Rung would like to ask for your hand in marriage formally." He commented after reading the letter.
Irene's eyes widened in shock. She had not anticipated such a proposal. In fact, Irene was not fond of the idea of marrying Rung. She rose from her seat and insisted on declining the proposal. However, Hyberion's reaction was entirely different.
"I understand your reluctance, but you must consider the strategic advantages of this proposal. Besides, marrying Rung could provide us with unprecedented access to information and influence within the palace."
"I came here for the infiltration, Hyberion. My mission does not involve playing the role of a dutiful wife." Irene frowned as she left.
Irene couldn't stand the thought of being wedded to Prince Rung. The idea filled her with a sense of dread. Unable to clear her thoughts, she made her way to the stables, saddled a horse, and rode off into the woods, hoping to clear her mind. The rhythmic thud of the horse's hooves against the forest floor and the crisp air did little to calm her tumultuous thoughts. She reached a cliff overlooking the horizon where the sun was beginning to rise. It cast a golden glow across the horizon and painted the sky with hues of pink and orange.
Irene dismounted and stood at the edge of the cliff, her eyes fixed on the horizon. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind, but her thoughts kept returning to Rung's proposal and the pressure from Hyberion. She felt trapped, and she wanted to vent her anger. She wanted to feel something other than resentment and annoyance for once. She flashed her eyes and threw the dagger, wounding the black-haired man's cheeks as he emerged from behind.
"Your anger never fails to make my heart race, Zera," he called softly, licking the blood dripping on his cheeks.
"What are you doing here?" She hissed, hearing him speak again.
"Hunting supposedly, but it seems I was hunted by a familiar shade of earth instead,"
"Enough with your words. It would be better if you are mute indeed," she glared, turning back to the horizon.
"They still need to gain approval from the empire before the marriage can be official," he said as he stood beside her sitting form.
"You know about the marriage?" Irene asked as she watched him sit beside her.
"I was the one who delivered the letter last night, Zera. But I couldn't clear my mind, so I spent my entire night hunting boars in the forest."
She rolled her eyes to the side as Irene's frustration bubbled over his nonchalant response.
"Do you want it?" he asked, pushing the wrong button. She stood up abruptly, her eyes blazing with anger.
"Are you mocking me? Is that all you have to ask?" she gritted her teeth in anger.
"It must be a laughing stock for you to know that a rebel was going to be married to the prince of a kingdom she detested." She stomped her feet as she rose and ventured to her horse.
"So you don't mean to marry him?" he asked as his hand grabbed her wrist, preventing her from untying the stead.
She clicked her tongue as her eyes met his intense gaze. He stared down into her brown eyes, and as if under a spell, Irene bit her lower lip, which trembled. She finally allowed herself to be honest, the words spilling out in a rush of fury.
"How could you? I am on the brink of marrying someone, and that was the only consolation I received from you?"
She shouldn't be attached to anyone, but this nameless knight made her want to feel something more. She wanted to be consoled. She had been strong for so long, and she thought he might offer her words of affirmation. But his indifference stung. She knew it was wrong and shouldn't be telling him this, but why should she care? He was a slave, and she was a rebel. It was a combination orchestrated by fate—a perfect match to be pitied upon and cursed by the gods or whoever was watching them from above.
She pushed his hands away, but to her surprise, he teleported him to the oak tree nearby and pinned her to it, locking her in his arms. Her heart raced as he pressed his body against hers, their faces only inches away from each other.
"I always loved the anger in your eyes, Zera," he murmured, his black orbs locking onto hers.
"Now answer me, Zera Hyberion. Do you mean your words?" he asked as his gaze shifted to her lips. She instinctively looked away, but he cupped her cheeks, forcing her to face him again.
"I will crush this empire like how they crushed my hometown. I will burn everything to ashes so that no one will remember it existed." She answered, her eyes burning in rage.
With a smile crossing his face, he plunged his lips to hers, capturing her in a kiss that left her mind blank. The kiss was fierce and consuming, and for a moment, the world around them disappeared. Irene was shocked. Other than blades piercing her skin, it was the first time she felt someone's hot tongue on hers. Her instincts faded, and she melted under his touch. Closing her eyes, she was certain he used his magic to lure her as she felt herself wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. It was as if all the tension, anger, and unspoken feelings within herself faded and were replaced by a primal heat surging through her body. When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless.
"T-tell me your name," Irene breathed, gasping for air.
He rested his forehead against hers, and soon, their surroundings changed; Irene found herself lying on a soft bed under a willow tree somewhere only this black-haired knight knew.
"You won't need it because I'll make you forget yours," he said as he removed his armor.
Irene woke up to the gentle sensation of his arms around her. As she stirred, she felt his lips brush against her forehead, making her heart flutter.
"How did you find this place?" she asked softly, turning to face him.
They were nestled under a majestic willow tree; its drooping branches created a curtain preventing any bystanders from seeing them. Luckily, it was a room crafted by magic, or else the hunters would surely have other thoughts about hearing ghost noises that shouldn't be heard for the entire day.
"You should rest," he commented as he grabbed the white sheets to her shoulders, covering her bare body.
However, moments later, his expression shifted as he sensed the afternoon light disappearing into the night. He tightened his hold on her hand briefly before standing up.
"It's already evening, you have to return to the baron's home," he said as he picked up her clothes, holding them out to her.
"I don't want to see him. He will only insist on me marrying Rung," Irene said, her voice filled with frustration as she reluctantly took the clothes from him.
"I assure you, he can't marry you. In Alvarez, I heard that the prince is already betrothed to a princess from the northern kingdom. He needs their consent before the marriage can be approved. Zera, they will never agree to lose their honor to the northern kingdom. The marriage will not proceed."
Irene nodded and changed her clothes. As she finished dressing, he stepped closer and embraced her from behind.
"What are you doing?" Irene asked, shivering slightly as she felt the cold ointment meet her skin.
"I can't let them see you in this state," he said softly, applying the ointment to the marks on her neck and collarbone. His hands lingered for a moment longer before he stepped back, allowing her to turn and face him.
"I should head back now."
The next day, Rung visited Irene in their barony. She was quite shocked to see him so early in the morning. He smiled, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he remembered the reply he had received the previous day. The idea of keeping the woman who had been instrumental in establishing his name across the kingdom thrilled him.
"Prince Rung," Irene replied, masking her surprise with a polite smile.
"To what do I owe this early visit?"
"I was elated by your eagerness to this marriage. I already asked Baron Hyberion's permission, and you'll be staying in the kingdom while we wait for the empire's approval," he said as he kissed her hand and gestured for her to his carriage.
Reluctantly, Irene nodded and followed him to the carriage. Her heart inevitably skipped a beat when she saw the black-haired knight opening the door for them. His expression was the same, unreadable and stoic. As Irene stepped into the carriage, she couldn't help but glance at him, searching his eyes for any hint of the previous day's burning gaze. He glanced back at her, and she immediately looked away in Rung's direction after seeing those same burning eyes gleaming while looking at her. Rung took his seat opposite Irene, his eyes never leaving her.
"Zera, I am beyond grateful that both of us share the same conviction to this marriage. I want you by my side, not just as my advisor but in a more personal capacity."
Irene averted her gaze as she felt bitter by his hands on hers.
That noon, Irene sat at her desk alone, writing the report Rung had requested. Sunlight filtered through the arched windows, casting a warm glow over the parchment as her quill scratched softly against the paper. Her thoughts kept drifting back to his earlier marriage proposal, but she pushed them aside, not wanting to dwell on the idea of marrying him.
"I assure you, he can't marry you."
For some reasons, she missed the taunting she received from the black-haired knight who usually accompanies her in Rung's study. But this time, she was all by herself. Rung asked him to assist him as he discussed something with his father. She sighed and closed her eyes. She couldn't afford distractions, not when so much was at stake, but she desperately hoped that she would not be wedded to Rung. Just as she finished writing the last paragraph, a sudden commotion outside drew her attention. Voices started echoing through the stone corridors. Curious, Irene stood and smoothed her dress before stepping into the hallway. A messenger from Alvarez had arrived, clutched in his hand was a sealed letter, the wax bearing the unmistakable crest of Alvarez.
"I am the prince's advisor," Irene said, introducing herself.
"What brings you here?" she asked, her eyes not leaving the letter.
"Greetings, I am Jacob Lessio, milady. This letter is for the prince himself. Please led me to His highness as the reply to his request has been sent," the middle-aged man with extremely short black hair said.
"He is currently discussing some matters with His Majesty, the King. Please head inside, and we will wait for his return," Irene gestured as she nervously paced back to her chair.
After what felt like an eternity but was merely an hour, the sound of heavy boots echoed down the hall. Rung arrived, his mute knight at his side. The prince took the letter from the messenger, his face unreadable as he broke the seal and began to read. Irene watched anxiously as Rung's expression changed, his features tightening into a frown. He dismissed the messenger with a curt nod and turned to her, his troubled eyes meeting hers.
"What does it say?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rung narrowed his eyes as he realized that the proposal had been rejected. This was the greatest blow to his pride and his plans. He raised his hand and dismissed Irene and his knight without a word. When the door locked, Prince Rung growled as he overturned the table. Hearing the papers and books crashing to the floor, Irene smirked as she looked sideways to see his personal knight, who seemed to be suppressing his delight.
"How crude! That Belserion betrothed me to the princess of the northern kingdom without my knowledge?" he hissed in frustration.
Meanwhile, in her quarters, Irene chuckled softly as she took a sip from the goblet of wine offered by the black-haired knight standing beside her. The candlelight flickered, casting a warm glow over the room and highlighting the knight's rugged features. His eyes twinkling with mischief, smiled as he kissed her hand.
"See? I told you everything would work out," he said, his voice a low, soothing rumble.
Irene felt a wave of satisfaction wash over her. She leaned back in her chair, her gaze meeting his.
"You were right," she murmured, a smile playing on her lips.
"You don't have to marry Rung." His grin widened as he knelt beside her, his fingers gently tracing the back of her hand.
Three months later
The grand wedding between Prince Rung and the northern princess commenced with all the pomp and circumstance befitting a royal union. Irene stood among the guests, her expression carefully composed despite the feeling of Rung's eyes on her. Every time she glanced in his direction, she found him staring at. His gaze was laced with longing, emotions that mirrored the ones she had seen in his nameless knight's eyes during their most private moments together. She didn't want to be here yet; she couldn't deny the flicker of satisfaction knowing that she had evaded the very fate that now ensnared him.
When the ceremony concluded and the celebration began, Irene slipped out into the castle gardens, the cool evening air welcomed her with relief from the stuffy atmosphere inside. She could finally breathe freely. Seeing the shadow before her, she turned to see him. He didn't speak, simply took her hand in his and teleported them to their secret rendezvous.
A few hours later, Irene stirred closer to the black-haired man's warmth, her hands finding their way to his slightly tanned chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against hers. She snuggled closer to his embrace. His lips curled into a smile as he opened his eyes, his hand gently brushing a few strands of her brown hair away from her face. His hand hovered over her necklace for a moment.
"Why do you never take off your necklace, Zera?" he asked.
Irene opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"It's my only reminder of my family," she replied.
"Losing it or taking it off would mean losing a part of them." She added.
Sensing the hint of sorrow in her words, he leaned in and kissed her forehead. She wasn't sure why his kisses never failed to make her heart flutter. She finds this weird emotion conflicting and comforting at the same time. Irene closed her eyes, savoring the moment. He cleared his throat, breaking the comfortable silence between them.
"Zera, is it alright for me to be selfish and ask you of one thing?" he asked.
"What is it?" she replied, still closing her eyes.
"Are you willing to settle down with me? I want you to stop participating in the resistance group against the empire. I want us to have a life together, to get married-"
"What?" For a moment, Irene was stunned, and then a flash of anger sparked in her eyes as she pushed him away.
"Z-Zera, I-"
She sat up, staring at him incredulously. "You want me to stop fighting? To give up everything I've worked for?" Her voice grew louder with each word, her anger rising.
"How can you even ask me that?"
He reached for her, but she shrugged off his hand. "Zera, please try to understand-"
"You don't get it, do you? I can't stop." Her face twisted with fury, and she stood.
"My family was destroyed by those with Belserion blood. I won't rest until I've avenged them. Not until the empire is overthrown,"
He sighed in defeat, realizing there was no convincing her. After watching her change to her clothes, he stood up and held her hand, giving her the ledger he kept under the table.
"I found it in his room. There are double agents within Tartaros. They're extremely powerful and dangerous so please away from them." He pleaded as he handed her the ledger.
"Have you ever seen me use my real magic?" she clicked her tongue as she turned on her heel, her fury barely concealed as she stormed out of the room.
The next day, at dawn, Irene visited their guild at the hidden base on the outskirts of the capital. There was a hidden portal nestled within a dense forest, which only those members of Grimoire Heart were allowed to find, leading directly to their headquarters. Irene made her way through the familiar halls and then reached a large chamber where Hades waited for her. Hades turned as Irene entered.
"Irene," he greeted.
"Master Hades, I have information about the double agents of Tartaros. These are the proofs of their transactions." Irene stepped forward, presenting the documents and details he had given her.
Hades took the documents, his expression turning sour as he examined them. His eyes widened slightly across his usually impassive facade.
"I will deal with these traitors shortly. You have my commendation, Irene." He said as he turned to his desk and compared the ledger to the earlier information she had given.
"You may go now. Be careful, and make sure you are not followed. We cannot afford any mistakes." He said as he raised his hand, dismissing her.
As Irene made her way through the dimly lit hallway of the guild, she encountered the blonde-haired god slayer. He stood in the shadows, his piercing eyes locked onto her with an unsettling intensity.
"How is it possible for me to smell the blood of those bastards in you, Irene?" Zancrow hissed, his voice dripping with disdain.
Irene halted, her eyes narrowing at his words. His extreme senses over another human's scent over Irene's body struck a raw nerve, and her anger flared.
"Shut your mouth, Zancrow," she snapped, stepping closer to him.
Before Irene could reach the carriage she rented, she was attacked in the dense woods. The sudden ambush left her with little time to react, but she quickly summoned her magic to defend herself. Flames and lightning crackled around her as she sent some of her attackers sideways. She summoned her staff and the entire forest glowed in bright scarlet light as she determined their precise direction. Sensing their familiar magic, Irene's eyes widened, seeing Azuma's magic attacking her. She flew and realized that the assailants were her own guildmates, the Seven Kin.
"What's the meaning of this?" Irene raised a brow as they encircled her.
Suddenly, a familiar presence emerged from the shadows, and she immediately took a step back to evade the magic directed in her direction. It caused a wide crater, and Irene glared at the betrayal she was seeing. What's the meaning of this? Why are they attacking me? She thought as Hades cold expression plastered across his face.
"Master Hades?" she gasped.
"What's the meaning of this?" she asked before turning her staff, deflecting Zancrow's attacks.
"She's a traitor," Zancrow accused as he rose to his feet, wiping the blood from his neck caused by Irene's magic.
She was in utter disbelief as they lunged and fought her. She parried their strikes with magic. She ducked as she avoided Zancrow's lunges and backflipped to deflect the tree branches lunging on her. She raised her staff and withered Azuma's magic; then she turned to fight Rusty's embodiment magic. She bit her lip as she stabbed Ur's illusion and flared her eyes on him, using her magic to electrocute him in place. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted Hades watching from afar, not engaging in the fight.
After a few minutes, only two of the Kins were standing on their feet; Irene stabbed her staff on the ground to support herself as she began to feel lightheaded. What's wrong? She asked herself, sensing her magic draining from her. She could use a hundred-fold spell and enchant yet feel no exhaustion, but this time, the greater the magic she used, the more she felt it was draining her energy twice as fast as usual. Taking her distraction as an opportunity, Hades appeared from behind and struck her from behind. Pain exploded in her head, and darkness edged at the corners of her vision as she slumped to her knees. Fuck. She cursed as she felt her staff disappearing from her grasp.
Irene drifted in and out of consciousness, her surroundings a blinding white blur. Voices, distant and muffled, reached her ears.
"Are you telling me that you smell a faint blood of Belserion in her?" one voice questioned, filled with skepticism.
"She is not a traitor," another voice insisted.
"She is pregnant."
"Could it be that the other scent I sensed was from the child?" the first voice asked.
Pregnant? Irene's thoughts swam in confusion, struggling to grasp the meaning. She tried to focus, but the words seemed to slip through her fingers.
"Hurry, Master Hades said that we need to prepare her. We need to hasten the child's development."
"Hastening the child's growth? Would that not be detrimental?" a third voice questioned.
"That's why you have to use lost magic," another voice replied firmly.
Lost magic. The term sent a shiver down Irene's spine. She struggled to open her eyes, desperate to see the faces of those familiar voices around her, to understand what was happening. Her vision remained a blur, but the voices grew clearer. Irene felt a strange sensation as if she were floating. She gradually became aware of her surroundings and realized she was submerged in a cylinder filled with water. The fluid was warm and strangely soothing, allowing her to breathe effortlessly despite being fully immersed. However, her body felt heavy and unresponsive, trapped in a state of unconsciousness. She could hear the muffled voices of those around her, but she couldn't move or speak.
"We must proceed with caution. Using lost magic to hasten the child's development is risky, but we have little choice. Master Hades wanted to experiment on the child with the Belserion's blood."
Irene's thoughts were in a state of labyrinth. Pregnant? Belserion's blood? Hearing all those words together in a state of unresponsiveness filled her with rage. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but her body remained inert.
Irene gasped as she felt the water gushing out of her system, leaving her coughing and disoriented. Her vision cleared just enough to see a familiar face. Ur's face was contorted with worry. But before she can utter a word, a bright light enveloped their surroundings. She closed her eyes and waited as the light faded. She coughed once more as she opened her eyes and found herself in a dilapidated cathedral. In her semi-conscious state, she felt Ur wrap a cloak around her shivering body. Darkness threatened to pull her under again; she fought to stay awake, only finding herself surrendering to it.
Irene groggily opened her eyes, her head ringing with pain and confusion. She found herself in a soft bed, and she tried to move but felt a hand gently squeezing hers. Turning her head, she saw Ur sitting beside her, her expression filled with relief.
"Irene, you're awake," Ur said softly.
She relaxed slightly, her tensed body easing at the sight of a familiar face. But as her senses sharpened, she glanced down, and her eyes widened in shock. Her stomach was bloated.
"What happened?" Irene asked Ur.
"You were unconscious for two weeks," Ur replied gently, sitting beside her.
"Hades was trying to accelerate the birth of the child using lost magic. You've been pregnant for three months, but the child is almost due in a week or two."
"How did this happen? Pregnant?" she whispered, her mind racing with confusion.
"I can't stay here. He must be worried." She tried to sit up, her thoughts turning to the possible father of her child, but the sudden movement made her dizzy, and she nearly collapsed back onto the bed. Ur steadied her with a firm but gentle grip.
"Easy, Irene," she said. "You're still weak. You need to rest and regain your strength."
"No, he needs to know about this,"
"Who? The father of your child? That Belserion?" Ur asked, her voice rising an octave higher.
Irene's anger flared at the mention of the name. "Belserion? What? There's no way I would ever be sleeping with a Belserion."
"Then who is the father of your child,"
"Rung's personal knight, that black-haired mute knight," she insisted.
"What? That slave from Alvarez?" Ur rose to her feet in surprise.
"It's a long story, but yes, he is the father of this child," Irene replied, turning to touch her belly.
"Please help me; I need to inform him about this child. He must be worried about me," Irene added as she turned to see her.
"But Pergrande Kingdom... it was burnt to ashes."
"What? How? When?" Irene's eyes widened in shock.
"Shortly after you were captured," Ur explained.
"A number of soldiers from Alvarez annihilated the kingdom the next day due to the allegations of them lending a hand to Tartaros. Nobody survived, and the kingdom was reduced to ashes."
"That's impossible. The Pergrande were loyal subjects. It was the other way around; Tartaros were the ones betraying the rebels. How could the narrative be flipped like this?"
"What?" It was now Ur's turn to be surprised.
"I need to see it for myself. I have to find him," Irene insisted, trying to stand up despite her weakness.
As she struggled to maintain her balance, her legs wobbling beneath her, she felt herself being caught by a strong pair of arms. She looked up to see a blue-haired man with a tattoo on his face.
"Please rest easy, Your Highness." He said as he assisted her back to the bed.
"Who... who are you?" Irene asked with annoyance, having been addressed by that title.
"I apologize for the delayed introduction; I am Sieghart, Your Highness," he said as he bowed to greet her.
"Sieghart, help me rescue you from the guild, Irene." Ur explained, trying to ease her confused expression.
"How could you call me by that title?" Irene hissed as she glared at him.
"We were the late King's servants," he explained and gestured her to turn and see her missing necklace.
"We were looking for you for about a century already but we couldn't find you but it seems that-" he said as he showed her a pendant of him and her father.
"Enough, I don't want to discuss that matter for now. I need to see him, and he needs to know about this child," Irene interrupted him, her concern growing over the movement of the growing being in her stomach.
"Rest assured that I will look for him, Your Highness," Sieghart said.
"Irene, call me by name; I hate hearing that title again," she said, shaking her head and trying to clear her thoughts.
"Why would Hades want to hasten the child's development?" Irene asked, not understanding the true reasons for the recent events.
"Your child carries Belserion blood, and he wanted to see how powerful it would be and possibly use it against them to cause the rebellion," Sieghart said, causing Irene to glare at him.
"Shut it, I despise that name more than my whole life. How could you think that my child is connected to them?" She asked.
Sieghart reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, shimmering shard. "This is an ancient relic linked to the Belserion bloodline. It will glow if you are indeed bearing someone of their blood."
Irene looked at the shard, her heart pounding with disbelief. She hesitated, not wanting to confirm their accusations. The thought of her child having Belserion blood was too much to bear. Sensing her distress, Ur stepped forward.
"Sieghart, perhaps it's best if we let Irene rest for now," she suggested gently.
"Of course." Sieghart nodded, placing the shard on the bedside table.
As they left the room, Irene stared at her bloated stomach. The idea of suddenly being pregnant and with the father of her child was supposedly a Belserion was overwhelming. She bit her lip, fighting back tears. Could it be that he had been manipulating her all along? If he was indeed one of them, it meant he had approached her with deliberate intent, exploiting her for his own gain. Desperation and anger surged within her. She grabbed the shard from the bedside table, needing to know the truth. Holding her breath, she brought it close to her stomach. To her dismay, the shard glowed brightly, its light filling the room and confirming her worst fears.
"W-what?"
Irene's world seemed to crumble around her. The realization that her child carried the blood of her most hated enemies was a crushing blow. Tears welled up in her eyes as she struggled to comprehend the betrayal she felt. She dropped the shard, her hands trembling. The truth was undeniable now. She was carrying a child with Belserion blood.
"Damn it!" she screamed.
In a fit of despair, she threw the shard across the room, not wanting to believe the situation. The truth was clear now: he was not a random knight. Considering his powerful magic, he must indeed be a Belserion, likely assigned to monitor the royalty of Pergrande. And she had fallen for him, unwittingly becoming part of his deceit. Begrudgingly looking at her own stomach as if seeing the life forming from the blood of her enemies, Irene was overwhelmed with despair and rage. She couldn't bear the thought of carrying a child connected to the Belserion bloodline. Her mind clouded with anger; she summoned a dagger, its blade gleaming. With trembling hands, she positioned the dagger above her stomach, tears streaming down her face. Just as she was about to plunge the blade into herself, Sieghart burst into the room, having heard the commotion. He lunged forward, grabbing her wrist and preventing the dagger from going in completely. Despite his intervention, the blade left an angular wound on her skin, and blood began to seep from it.
"Your Highness," Sieghart shouted.
After a few days, she stared blankly at her bandaged stomach. Her wrists were free, but each of them was now bound by magic cuffs to restrict her ability to summon magic for the safety of her child. Ur had made the decision to use the chains after her attempt to harm herself. The room was silent as they left to pick up Ur's daughter and someone to help them through Irene's labor. Sensing her solitude, Irene balled her hand as she stared at her stomach. She leaned her head against the pillows as she tried to sleep, but moments later, she felt a sudden rush of fluid. Her water had broken, and she realized she was going into labor. The pains came swiftly, more intense than she had imagined. She adjusted her position and started gripping the sheets as the contractions tore through her. Hours passed in a haze of pain and silent screams. She bit down on her lip, refusing to cry out, refusing to let her agony draw unwanted attention. Her body strained with each contraction, and she pushed with every ounce of strength she had left. Finally, with one last excruciating push, a sharp cry echoed through the room.
"A girl," she heaved, gasping for breath, and turned to see her daughter's tiny, bloody face.
Despite the overwhelming exhaustion, she moved her hand and found a spare towel nearby. She used it to clean her daughter as best as she could. The baby's cries quieted, replaced by soft whimpers as Irene held her to her bosom, wanting to see more of her delicate features. As she looked down at her newborn daughter, her thoughts darkened. The child's perfect scarlet hair, mirroring her own, felt like a cruel joke. The resentment and anger that had been simmering inside her reached a boiling point. Her mind turned inward, and her eyes darkened with a grim resolve. Kill her. Her thoughts blinded her reasons as the painful memories replayed through her mind. Her father was beheaded, and her mother was crucified naked and paraded through the walls of Alvarez; they had humiliated her Dragnof blood to its core, and it was sickening for her to see her own features on the child. It was as if she had given birth to a version of herself tainted by the bloodline she despised. The first Belserion she would kill would be this wretched life before her. But as she tightened her grip on her daughter, preparing to strangle her with her bare hands, something unexpected happened. The baby laughed, and a sweet, innocent sound echoed in the room. She was oblivious to the impending harm as she reached out to touch and grasp Irene's little finger with her tiny hand. The warmth of her daughter's hand felt like a blade plunging into her dark heart. Her tears streamed down her face, mingling with the sweat and blood of childbirth. She hesitated, her hands trembling.
"Don't laugh at me!" Irene yelled, her voice cracking as her resolve weakened.
The child continued to laugh and coo. Irene's grasp on her daughter's neck loosened. The baby's grasp was so small, so fragile, yet it held a power that Irene couldn't ignore. She looked into her daughter's eyes, and for the first time, saw not a reflection of her enemies, but a reflection of herself.
"Do not make me hesitate!" She yelled as she tried to tighten her grip again.
She killed humans before like mere insects. The wretched innocence that once clothed her had been gone and was replaced by bitter resentment that robbed her of her humanity. So she questioned herself for hesitating for the first time. She thought perhaps she was hesitating because it was her first time strangling someone as frail and defenseless as her, or maybe it was the fact that she wasn't wearing her gloves, feeling the warmth of her child's skin against her hands.
"Die, you monster," she muttered through gritted teeth, her vision blurring with tears. "That cursed blood running in your veins killed my entire family."
With a surge of anger and desperation, she tightened her grasp on her neck again. The child's soft coos and laughter began to subside as her skin turned blue, and she started to lose warmth against her own hands.
Present
Irene opened her eyes, hugging her knees as she sat in the dimly lit room. Her mind was clouded with guilt, and her hands trembled uncontrollably. The very hands that had ended her daughter's life. She couldn't believe she was remembering such horrendous memories so vividly.
She loathed herself for not being able to kill the last Belserion she knew of- Charteris, and for having easily strangled her own daughter to death in a fit of insanity.
"Ugh, my poor daughter. What did I do?" Irene bawled, staring at her reflection in the nearby mirror.
A/N: The second part, as promised. Thank you for your reviews. I'll update soon. Please leave some thoughts. Thanks.