A/N: Thank you for your warm reviews, kuroshiragami0, Liraangela Garcia (Hi, thanks for following and fav-ing this story and me as an author as well. Ah, well, yeah, I actually intended it that way for him to claim his blood running in Erza's veins to make it seem as if he was her father. Well, if you kind of reconsider, his blood, Belserion, is indeed running in her veins, so the statement was practically right, considering Acno and Charteris were half-brothers. WAHAHA! *wink*), kiritoliger49 (Thanks for following and fav-ing this story too. I'm grateful for your kind words. It was quite a surprise for me either to write almost most of my updates this past few months, hehe.), and bilmysleepy (I enjoy reading your thoughts. Well, to address some of it without spoiling anything, Belserion only sensed another magic inside her womb, but apart from that, there's none. I will admit both brothers are assholes. Hehe, I hope you'll still love this update)!

To all readers: I am extremely overwhelmed with the support I received while writing for this story. Thank you for reading, especially those readers who constantly leave reviews. You made me feel appreciated. Delays for updates are expected; the fucking internship is taxing my schedule, LOL. I love you all. I hope you appreciate this update.

It was early dawn when the palace was shattered by the shrieking screams of the servants. The usually serene halls were filled with fear and confusion. Prince Rung, who had been roused from his sleep by the commotion, stumbled out of his chambers, his heart pounding. He barely had time to comprehend the chaos before him when he was confronted by a sight that made his blood run cold. The figure stepped forward, revealing the silver-haired man whose presence was more terrifying than anything Rung could have imagined. The dim light cast shadows across his impassive face. His emotionless eyes sent a shiver down Rung's spine as he staggered back, his legs giving way beneath him as he fell to the cold floor. His mind struggled to process the nightmare before him. The bodies of his guards and servants lay strewn across the room, their lifeless eyes staring blankly into nothingness. Blood pooled on the marble floor, the stench of death suspended in the air.

"P-Prince Charteris..." Rung's voice was barely a whisper, choked with fear.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the monstrous figure that towered over him. Charteris took a step closer, his presence almost suffocating to the trembling prince at his feet.

"W-what's the meaning of this, Y-your Imperial Highness?" Rung asked, flinching as his hands scrabbled against the floor, bewildered by the crown prince's peculiar visit.

He tried to push himself away, desperate to put distance between himself and the silver-haired prince. But there was no escape. Charteris moved his steps, inevitability cornering him.

"I-I beg of you, Your Imperial Highness, Prince Charteris, spare me," Rung pleaded, his voice trembling, his dignity shattered. He looked up at Charteris with terrified eyes, searching for any sign of mercy from the prince he had faithfully served with his life. Charteris's eyes narrowed on him, and the room seemed to close in around them, the silence broken only by the distant, fading echoes of the servants' screams.

"Spare you?" he spoke for the first time.

"I-I didn't know... w-what's going on? I don't-"

But Charteris silenced him with a cold, penetrating gaze. "You didn't know?" he repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. Charteris slowly knelt down, bringing himself to eye level with the trembling prince. His face was inches from his. He reached out and grasped Rung by the collar, pulling him closer, his grip like iron.

"You took from me the one thing that mattered," Charteris hissed, his voice trembling with barely contained fury.

"I d-don't know what you're talking about, Your Highness," he shook his head, tears streaming in his eyes.

"Fool! You didn't know that your incompetent knights failed to patrol the palace walls," Charteris paused. "They did not even see who attacked Zera." He tightened his grip, making him squint his eyes.

"Their incompetence led to Zera's death," Charteris continued. His eyes shot daggers at Rung, his anger palpable. "And now, your kingdom will pay the price for my loss."

"P-pardon, we didn't know... We couldn't have known... Prince Charteris, please reconsider our loyalty to the empire. " He pleaded, still confused as to why Charteris was angered over the death of the lowly baron's illegitimate daughter.

"Please, Prince Charteris, I'm begging you..." Rung whispered again.

"Begging won't save you. Nothing will," he said as he slowly brought the glowing light blade closer.

And with those final, damning words, Charteris released his body, letting him fall back to the floor headless as the sound of steel cutting through his flesh reverberated in the room. With a deep breath, he made his sword vanish, the light dissipating into thin air. The knights bowed as he turned to face them. He tossed his head to the captain of the knights and ordered him.

"Hang all those royals heads in the empire's walls so that the vultures may feast upon them. Burn everything to ashes so that no one will remember that this kingdom existed in the plains of the empire."

Alvarez was jolted from his throne when his beloved son, Charteris, stormed into the palace, his clothes soaked with blood after months of absence. "Have you gone mad?" Alvarez roared, his voice echoing off the marble walls as he rose to his feet to face his son.

Alvarez was quite stunned by the thought of Charteris misbehaving before him. He had always been the son he trusted, the one who followed orders with precision and ruthlessness. He was submissive, but this was something else entirely; he felt extremely different from his usual calm and impassive façade.

"Why did you summon the entire army and burn Pergrande to ashes without my consent?" Alvarez asked as his hand struck Charteris across the face.

Charteris stood still, the force of the blow turning his head to the side, but he showed no sign of pain. Slowly, he turned his gaze back to his father, his eyes cold. "Didn't I tell you that they're traitors?" Charteris asked.

"You still need my approval before you can act hastily," he insisted.

"Shut up! Keep quiet if you want to keep your head, Father." Charteris warned, his eyes burning in rage.

Alvarez, momentarily stunned by the audacity of his son's response, watched as Charteris turned on his heels and walked away, his bloodied form leaving a trail of crimson droplets in his wake.

"Charteris!" Alvarez called after him. "You dare to defy me? Do you know what you've done?"

Charteris paused, his back still turned to his father. He didn't answer immediately; his silence only heightened the tension. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, devoid of respect.

"Breaching your authority? Did you really think that you had authority over me, Alvarez?" He scoffed before shuffling his feet forward, leaving him speechless.

A few days of relentless pursuit and fruitless investigations had left Charteris on the edge of despair. The reports from the captain of the knights did little to soothe his torment. The rebel guilds were being hunted down, but it wasn't enough. He didn't want justice; he wanted revenge. The loss of Zera and their unborn child had consumed him with sorrow that he couldn't seem to shake. He slammed the latest report onto his desk. His hands trembled as he tried to rein in his emotions.

The captain of the knights hesitated before speaking. "Your Highness," he spoke, choosing his words carefully. "Perhaps… perhaps it's time to seek assistance from the Black Prince."

Charteris froze, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at the captain. The suggestion was an insult to his pride, a blow to his authority. The Black Prince, Acnologia, was the product of his father's second marriage, a half-brother whom he had never acknowledged as an equal. The mere thought of asking him for help was repugnant.

"The black witches have a special ability to absorb their dragons' senses. If anyone can help us track down those responsible for the attack, it's him." He added, slightly flinching at the sight of the crown prince's face clenching his jaw.

Charteris didn't like the black witches and never liked the idea of involving Acnologia, even most. Acnologia had always been delegated to the role of waging wars but never given true authority in the empire. Charteris had always been the one his father had groomed to lead. But now, with Zera's death, he found himself cornered. He hated the idea of sharing such personal information with anyone, especially his estranged brother. The thought of Acnologia knowing about Zera was almost unbearable, to the point that it made his blood boil. But as much as he despised it, he knew the captain was right. If he wanted to find Zera's killers, if he wanted to make them pay, he needed Acnologia's help.

Taking a deep breath, Charteris forced himself to swallow his pride. The bitterness of the decision left a sour taste in his mouth, but he couldn't see another way forward.

"Summon him," he ordered, his voice cold and detached.

The captain nodded, bowing before leaving the room. As the door closed, Charteris's eyes drifted to the mirror in the corner of his study. He paused, staring at the reflection of his slightly disheveled short silver hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the lines of strain etched into his face. He looked like a mess, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil roiling inside him.

He had been willing to do anything for Zera. He had imagined himself, after that night, swallowing his pride and begging her again the next day to settle down, to stay low profile away from the chaos. He wasn't able to sleep as he had played out the scene in his mind countless times, rehearsing his lines in telling her the selfish reason for asking her to refrain from the resistance for the sake of the unborn child. Their child. He would have gone down on his knees if he had to, pleading with her to see reason. But all of those plans had been crushed by the cruel hand of fate. The attack on her carriage had stolen away any chance he had of persuading her.

Charteris's chest tightened as he continued to stare at his reflection, the hollow eyes that looked back at him filled with a pain that ran too deep for words. He had been prepared to give up everything for her, turn his back on the throne, and start a new life with her. But now, all he was left with was the haunting memory of what could have been.

"Zera," he whispered her name once more to ease the silence swallowing him.

His thoughts were soon disturbed by the soft click of the door, followed by the herald's voice announcing his presence. Charteris straightened his posture, steeling himself as Acnologia entered the room. Acnologia greeted him with a nod. Charteris cleared his throat, cutting through the formalities, and got straight to the point.

"I want you to find someone for me," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the necklace. He held it out for Acnologia to see, his grasp never leaving the necklace as he watched his brother's face stare at the necklace.

"And you think I can find them?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism as he carefully inspected the lingering scent on the necklace.

"You killed your familiar to absorb its senses, so probably you can," Charteris replied. "This is not a request but an order, Second Prince."

Acnologia's jaw tightened at the reminder of his rank. Despite his status as a prince, he had always been subject to Charteris's authority, and it chafed at him constantly.

"The scent in the necklace is diluted," he said finally, forcing his voice to remain even. "It points to many people. I can't even identify the owner's scent on this."

Charteris snatched the necklace back, his irritation growing with each passing second. "Are you saying that you can't do anything either? Nonsense! Leave my study this instant," he ordered, his tone sharp and dismissive.

"Unless you can show me other items that belong to the owner of the necklace," he said instead of leaving. "I could possibly separate their scent from the others and locate the one tied to it."

Charteris didn't have any other items that belonged to Zera except the necklace. His own investigation had been slipping away with no real progress. The only thing that crossed his mind was to share his memories with him, but the idea of sharing his memories with Acnologia was abhorrent. He hissed as he knew he was running out of options.

"Extend your hand," Charteris ordered, his voice low and filled with reluctance. "I will share some of my memories with you so that you can see and sense her through my senses." He said as he pressed his fingers on his palm.

A few seconds later, Acnologia's eyes widened, seeing the fragmented images of the brown-haired woman's face smiling at Charteris and his twisted thoughts when he watched her eyes flicker with resentment as she gazed at him. The irony of Charteris' dark thoughts and the sweetness of his gesture to her prodded Acnologia's mind with interest. It was a rare sight for Acnologia to think that Charteris, the cold and calculated crown prince, was bewitched by a woman named Zera. The depth of emotion he had witnessed in his Charteris' memories was unsettling. He had never imagined that someone like Charteris could be so deeply affected by anyone, let alone by a woman who seemed to have a profound hold on his heart.

"That should be fine," Charteris said as he lifted the magic that connected their minds.

"Thanks to your magic, I can finally identify her scent, but I can't possibly find those bastards on my own," Acnologia said, thinking this was his opportunity to exploit Charteris's emotions. "I need an army."

"I can give you the authority to command the entire army," Charteris remarked. "Subjugate those rebels; turn the empire upside down if you must. Just find those responsible for their deaths. Bring them alive so I can make them pay."

Acnologia's eyes gleamed with newfound ambition. The prospect of commanding the empire's forces, of wielding such power, was tempting. It was a forbidden fruit. He had always been the outsider, the one relegated to the sidelines while Charteris took the spotlight. But now, he had a chance to seize control, to prove himself as more than just a tool of war.

"You have my word," Acnologia said. "I will find them,"

Two centuries had passed.

Charteris's short hair turned to long silver hair. It now hung in disarray in his pale face as he had withdrawn from the world, his chambers becoming a sanctuary of isolation, where he dedicated himself to a singular, obsessive purpose, finding a way to revert time or, worst, reviving a person to life.

Alvarez had grown increasingly frustrated with his son's neglect of his duties. Diplomatic relations had frayed and faltered in Charteris' absence. He was having a hard time maintaining the relations as his younger son continued to subjugate rebels and wage war, and his beloved son seemed to withdraw from the world after that incident centuries ago. The empire was suffering, and Alvarez could no longer ignore the consequences of Charteris's long-standing neglect.

Alvarez entered the dimly lit chambers, and he was greeted by the sight of his son, who was hunched over the floor, drawing a complex magic circle. The room was filled with the scent of incense, the air thick with the residue of countless spells cast over the centuries.

"What have you been doing in your room for centuries?" Alvarez asked in disbelief. He could hardly recognize the man before him.

Charteris didn't look up, his focus unbroken as he continued his work. "I told you not to disturb me," he replied curtly, his tone devoid of warmth.

"I thought you were wise, Charteris, but it seems that your reasons have been clouded by your fickle emotions. You are no longer the son I adored and prided myself on but a useless child who has forgotten his place." Alvarez sighed in disappointment.

Charteris paused, the words striking a nerve. He slowly rose from the floor, his long hair cascading around his face, framing eyes that had grown cold and distant over the centuries. A bitter laugh escaped his lips, the sound filled with resentment and mockery.

"Is that all I ever was to you, Father?" Charteris asked, his voice laced with rage. "A tool to maintain your power?"

"You went mad over the death of a woman?" he sneered, his gaze sweeping over Charteris's untidy appearance, the disheveled hair, and the haunted eyes that stared back at him.

Charteris's laugh turned darker. "Madness, you call it?" he said, stepping closer to his father, the distance between them shrinking.

Alvarez's expression hardened as he tried to distance himself from his son. "You are the sole heir to my throne, Charteris. You are the one meant to lead this empire into the future. But look at you now, wasting away in this room, consumed by grief and obsession. Is that how I raised you?"

"Shall I show you how you raised me?" he asked, tilting his head slightly as he glared at his father. There was no warmth in his gaze, only the dark undercurrents of resentment.

Alvarez felt an unfamiliar twinge of fear as his back was now pressed against the door.

"Faris was right," he murmured. "I should never have listened to you. Now, I pay the price for bearing your blood."

He paused, his hand moving with deliberate slowness toward his father's neck. Alvarez's breath caught in his throat, and a sense of dread washed over him as Charteris's fingers curled around his throat with a firm grip. "She said we love to play as gods," Charteris continued, his voice low and menacing.

"So I will be the one to decide your death, Alvarez."

With those words, Charteris began to tighten his grip, his hand squeezing the life out of him. Alvarez struggled, his hands clawing at Charteris's wrist, but his son's strength was overwhelming.

"If Zera had not stormed out that night and returned to their barony, she wouldn't have been attacked," Charteris hissed through gritted teeth, his voice trembling with emotion.

"I wouldn't have lost my woman and my child if it wasn't because of your stupid blood running in my veins, Alvarez," he continued, a twisted laugh escaping him as he watched the life drain from his father's eyes.

As Alvarez gasped for breath, his face turning a sickly shade of purple, Charteris's expression remained cold and detached. Charteris's lips curled into a smirk when Alvarez finally breathed his last, his body slumping against the door. He released his grip, letting his father's lifeless body fall to the floor with a dull thud.

"Finally, it's quiet," he said as he chuckled evilly.

He then knelt beside the corpse and used his magic to heal the bruises around Alvarez's neck, erasing the signs of strangulation. He reached for a vial, then mixed it with a wine and fed it to his father. The poison would mimic the symptoms of a heart attack, creating a convincing illusion of natural death. The scene will be perfectly staged; no one would suspect foul play.

However, unbeknownst to Charteris, a pair of eyes watched him from the shadows. Acnologia stood at the window, his form obscured by the shadows. He had arrived just in time to see Charteris's hands tightening around their father's throat, the life slowly draining from Alvarez as he gasped for breath.

The night before his succession ceremony

Despite his father's influence, Charteris chose to hold a private funeral for Alvarez at the cathedral. The ceremony was understated and attended only by a select few nobles related to their bloodline. After the final rites were performed and the last echoes of the funeral bells faded into the silence, Charteris made his way to the dungeon's basement, where Acnologia awaited him. As Charteris descended the stone steps, his mind was in a relentless thirst for vengeance. When he reached the bottom, he was greeted by the sight of three emaciated figures chained to the walls. Their forms were frail, their faces hollow and gaunt. It was hard to believe that Acnologia had only captured them two days ago; their condition suggested otherwise, considering that evidence of torture was seen. Charteris didn't care. The rebel forces had been weakened significantly after the empire's campaign against them, and seeing these people, the ones responsible for the death of his beloved, made his fury boil over.

Acnologia, standing nearby, made a move to introduce the prisoners, but Charteris raised a hand to stop him. He stepped forward, his eyes burning with cold fire as he called out their names.

"Rustyrose," he began, "the mage known for his ability to materialize anything from his imagination." The man lifted his head weakly, his eyes dull and lifeless.

"Zancrow," Charteris continued, "the arrogant rebel who overthrew one of my bases in Hargeon." Zancrow tried to speak, but the words came out as incoherent mutters.

Finally, Charteris's gaze fell on the third figure, a white-haired man who met his stare with a defiant glint in his eyes. "And lastly, the guild master, Hades, or should I say the renowned advisor of the fallen kingdom of Desierto, Precht Gaebolg."

Charteris bit his lower lip, barely containing the rage just beneath the surface. The sight of these men, the ones who had played a part in Zera's death, filled him with a cold, murderous intent.

"You mean to tell me that they were the ones who killed her?" he asked with a voice laced with lethal intent as he stared at them from head to toe.

Zancrow mumbled something unintelligible; his words lost in the clothes that bound him. Charteris ignored him and turned his attention to Hades, cupping the old man's cheek with a grip that tightened with each passing second. He forced Hades to look him in the eye.

"Hey, old man, do you have any idea how loyal she was to you? Yet you killed your own guildmate. You are a snake indeed. You eat your own kind." Charteris said as he faced him.

Hades, his gag removed, smirked despite the pain. "I would have never imagined seeing you up close again, Prince Charteris," he rasped.

"It is such a shame that you've wasted all your years looking for a dead woman. I couldn't imagine that the greatest tactician would never be enamored by the most beautiful princesses of the empire but would fall for a rebel. Did you have fun sleeping with her? You should've told me before so that I could gift you with whores to warm your bed-"

Charteris snapped and tightened the hold on his neck. The very implication that Charteris had used Zera as some mere plaything, which he did at some point in time, struck a nerve at him. His gut twisted with disgust over his words, taunting him that his feelings for her were anything less than genuine. With a growl of rage, he pushed Hades to the wall, his grip tightening each second and silencing him mid-sentence.

"I will personally skin them alive after my succession ceremony tomorrow. The capital must see how these arrogant rebels be punished for the sins they've committed," he said as he withdrew his hand from his neck.

"Torture them in the meantime, but make sure they are still alive by noon for their execution in the public square," he demanded before disappearing from their sight.

Charteris found himself standing alone in his chambers. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candles casting shadows on the walls. His gaze was fixed on a painting in the corner. It was a portrait of Zera he had created over the years. The painting captured every detail of her face, the softness of her features, the intensity of her eyes, and the subtle curve of her lips. He had poured everything into this image, trying desperately to hold onto a memory that was slipping away from him. How can you be so alive in my memories yet intangible at the same time, Zera? Charteris asked as he realized that no matter how hard he tried, he could no longer recall the sound of her voice, the way she laughed, or the warmth of her touch. He had tried countless magic spells, hoping to revert time, but all of them had been in vain. The past was gone, and nothing he did could change that.

"I can finally avenged you," he said as he tried to caress her face to the painting.

For two centuries, he had mourned her loss and the loss of their child. He had allowed his grief to consume him, to drive him to the brink of madness. But now, as he had finally exacted his revenge, he had no clue what to do anymore. It was pointless, and his efforts over the years resulted in futility and left him with no choice but to face the current responsibility that had been vested in him, the ruler of the empire. He knew that he could not carry the grief and burden of remembering everything any longer. The more he held onto her memory, the more it clouded his judgment, pulling him deeper into the abyss of his own despair. Charteris took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as he withdrew his hand from the painting. He had made his decision. He would forget her, erase every trace of her from his mind, and in doing so, free himself from the chains of his past. He had mourned, and perhaps now, it was time to let go.

With a final, lingering glance at Zera's image, Charteris began to chant the incantation. The magic swirled around him, enveloping his body with light. He could feel his memories slipping away and emotions fading into nothingness. He braced himself as he knew he would feel a sense of detachment from everything related to her. It was as if ripping his heart out of him. And perhaps, when he looked at the painting before him once more, it would no longer hold any meaning. It would just turn into a portrait of a woman whose face he did not recognize, a stranger in his own chambers.

After a few minutes, the light subsided, and Charteris was disoriented by the spell he had cast upon himself. He stumbled slightly as his mind reeled from the sudden loss of memories. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, and he struggled to maintain his composure. Before he could fully grasp the extent of what he had done, a sharp pain shot through his chest, causing him to gasp in shock. He looked down to see a blade plunged deep into his chest, the cold steel glistening with his blood. He tried to look up and saw Acnologia smirking. He tried to fight back, but his strength was waning, and his vision blurred. As he desperately attempted to summon his magic, he found himself suddenly teleported to a remote location somewhere high in the cold, unforgiving mountains.

The snow crunched beneath him as he collapsed as the blue-haired man plunged the sword deeper, pinning him to the cold ground. He looked up to see Acnologia standing over him, the figure of his brother unfeeling.

Seeing the utter confusion on Charteris's face, Acnologia relished the chance to mock his brother. He reveled in the twisted irony of the situation, knowing that Charteris, in his desperation to forget all of his haunting memories, had left himself vulnerable. He wanted him to believe that they were close as brothers, so he said.

"Your love for your brother has outsmarted your own wits, brother," Acnologia mocked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"This is where you die," Acnologia said, twisting the blade cruelly, eliciting a strangled cry from Charteris, his body convulsing with the pain.

"Damn you," Charteris uttered with all the strength he could muster.

When Charteris awoke, he was no longer lying in the cold, desolate snow. Instead, he found himself in a warm, dimly lit cave, the soft crackle of a nearby fire echoing off the stone walls. The heat from the flames seeped into his bones, chasing away the lingering chill from his body. He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the dim light, and then he saw her, the scarlet-haired woman with those intriguing brown eyes, Irene.

Seeing the anguish in Irene's eyes as she pleaded for him to end her life in atonement for the death of her daughter, Charteris felt a pang of guilt. The idea of killing her was disturbing. She had saved him, nursed him back from the brink of death, and despite all the darkness that clouded his heart, he couldn't bring himself to harm the one who had shown him kindness. He didn't like the idea of debt, and in his twisted sense of morality, he felt compelled to repay her for saving him. At the very least, he could give her a reason to live if the pain she had endured would somehow be erased from her own memories. He made a decision then: instead of ending her life, he would erase her memories about the child, the memories that caused her so much pain. He would give her a chance to start anew, free from the torment that had driven her to this point.

When the spell was complete, he stepped back and waited. It didn't take long for her to regain consciousness, her eyes fluttering open as she slowly came to. Charteris watched her carefully, his emotions a tangled mess of guilt and relief. As Irene looked up at him, her expression was one of confusion, her previous anguish replaced with a blank slate.

"What are you still doing here?" she glared, still seeing his presence.

Charteris hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to answer. He was glad the spell was complete, and she had forgotten all her memories about the child and only retained some memories of her past and their recent interaction.

"Leave now. I don't need anything from you," she ordered, dismissing him.

He left without a word and without even knowing her name but only remembering such strange scarlet hair and those familiar brown eyes looking at him.

Three years later

Charteris found himself driven by a desire for revenge against Acnologia for his betrayal. Aligning himself with the fallen kingdom of Stella, Charteris threw his support behind their rebellion, hoping to weaken the empire from within as he played their main tactician three years ago, just months after their confrontation in Zonia. He knew the empire well and the forces that played a part in its foundation, so he had an advantage in playing out his strategies to counter his own measures back when he was a prince.

However, Charteris had never anticipated that the southern forces of Stella, who had previously formed and joined the alliance two years ago, would be led by someone so familiar. It was not until she had come and visited the princess in the central base to report the accomplishment of the south. The doors of the war room swung open, and a figure clad in a black cloak entered.

"W-who are-" he asked as he saw her barge into Princess Anna's quarters.

It was a sight that caught him off guard. She approached the table and scanned for the princess's presence. Charteris could scarcely believe his eyes. The woman he had encountered years ago, the one who had tended to his wounds and saved his life, was now standing before him as a leader of the rebel forces.

"You're a rebel? Where is Princess Anna?" Irene asked in disbelief, seeing him.

"Irene," someone murmured from behind as the door revealed the princess.

"Your Highness, the empire's forces in Fiore have been dismantled. Our next objective is to secure the northern territories and cut off their supply lines." She said as she diverted her attention to Anna and left him speechless.

Charteris couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu that crept over him every time he observed Irene. It was in the small, seemingly inconsequential moments like the way she sipped her cup of tea as she suggested her ideas in their tactics. The way her eyes narrowed in quiet contemplation, or the way her mood snapped when her patience wore thin, or her temper flaring up like a storm, or the way she tilted her head when deep in thought, or even the way she would drum her fingers lightly against the table when she was annoyed, all of it felt oddly familiar to him, it was as if he had seen them somewhere before. It was unsettling, to say the least.

A few months later

The sudden onslaught of explosions and the deafening roar of battle filled the air as the sudden ambush left the barracks of the central base awaken amidst the break of dawn. Amidst the chaos, Charteris's attention was drawn to a distant, ominous glow—the telltale sign of a Magical Convergent Cannon, Jupiter, charging up for a devastating attack. His heart pounded as he realized the cannon was aimed directly at Irene.

In a split second, Charteris acted on pure instinct. He threw himself in front of Irene just as the cannon fired, the massive blast of magic hurtling toward them. He stood firm before her and countered the magic to purify its dark energy. His magic barrier clashed with the cannon's magic, and the impact slammed into his back, sending him to crash to the ground after successfully preventing it from destroying the entire base. He groaned as pain surged through his body as he hit the ground, the world spinning around him.

Irene's eyes widened in shock as she watched Charteris take the hit meant for her. "Tactician!" she shouted, her voice laced with concern. She rushed to his side, her heart racing as she saw him staggering on his back.

She knelt beside him, her hand hovering over his body, unsure whether to use her magic to enchant and minimize the wounds or scold him first.

"What were you thinking?" she yelled in fear. "You could have been killed!"

A few years later

Charteris and Irene had grown more accustomed to each other's presence. But there were still moments when their ideologies clashed, especially in terms of tactics and perhaps for personal reasons like that certain incident.

He watched Irene rush into a burning house to save an infant trapped inside, contrary to his orders. She emerged from the flames with the child in her arms, her skin scorched and blistered from the heat. The five-month-old wailed in the camp's medical barracks, its cries echoing through the makeshift tents. Charteris was furious as he wrapped her arm in bandages.

"Aren't you foolish," he scolded. "He is still an enemy."

"He is a child," she replied simply, her voice steady despite the pain she was clearly in.

Charteris's eyes narrowed as he focused his magic to heal her wounds. "It is such a shame for you to harbor such feelings for children when you were the one who slit his father's throat," he said, his tone biting as he waited for her reaction.

The flicker of concern in her eyes and the subtle shift in her expression spoke something he only knew of. She didn't retaliate, didn't argue. She remained silent, accepting the accusation because she knew it was true. The irony was not lost on her; she had been the one to orphan this child, yet here she was, risking everything to save him.

The following night

Charteris was jolted awake by the sound of Irene's choked sobs echoing near his tent. He quickly got up and rushed to her tent, finding her sitting up in bed, clutching her chest as tears streamed down her face. Her cries were filled with an agonizing pain that pierced through the night air. He knelt beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down, but she didn't stop. The tears kept flowing, and she gasped for breath as she tried to speak through her sobs.

"The dream," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "The sorrow in my heart is killing me."

Charteris felt a pang of helplessness as he watched her break down. He knew exactly what was happening. The spell he had cast to erase her memories, to shield her from the unbearable pain of her past, was fragile—more fragile than he had ever anticipated. And now, it was unraveling, perhaps due to the earlier incident.

"Please, t-tactician, make it stop," she begged.

Without a thought, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as he rubbed her back and used his magic to ease her suffering. Her cries were muffled against his chest, and he felt her trembling as she clung to him, her hands gripping his cloak.

The next morning

As the first light of dawn filtered through the tent, Irene sat quietly by the dying embers of the fire. Her eyes were distant, and the heaviness of the previous night still lingered in the air between them. Charteris watched her, unsure of how to bridge the silence that had settled over them. He could still feel the weight of her sobs from the night before, the way she had clung to him as if she were drowning. He wanted to say something, to offer her comfort, but the words felt inadequate.

Finally, Irene spoke though there was a tremor in her voice.

"Forget about last night," she said, her gaze fixed on the fading flames. "It was just… a moment of weakness."

He hated it. The way his heart would quicken when she smiled as she tended the children's wounds. These feelings were foreign to him, unsettling and uncomfortable. He had never allowed himself to become attached to anyone, and he wasn't about to start now. Charteris knew he needed to put a stop to it before it went any further. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, not now, not ever. And so, he made a decision, one that he knew would shatter the fragile bond they had formed but one that was necessary to protect them both.

"If you had not saved me, I may have died like how they said it in their reports."

The moment the truth left Charteris's lips, the atmosphere between them shifted dramatically. The warmth of Irene's eyes turned to a chilling resentment. He had anticipated it, but the sight still appalled him as he watched her eyes narrow with fury. Without a word, she lunged at him, her hands wrapping around his throat with a force that sent them both crashing to the ground.

Charteris gasped as her grip on his neck tightened with every second. The weight of her body pressed down on him, her eyes wild with rage and betrayal. She squeezed harder, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to choke the life out of him. His vision began to blur, but he felt stunned when he saw the tears streaming down her face, falling onto his cheeks. Her hands, once so firm, began to tremble, and Charteris could feel her grip wavering. Just as he was about to succumb to the lack of air, Irene's hands froze. She stared down at him. Her breathing was ragged, and it seemed that there was some sort of unknown magic that was holding her back to kill him.

"Damn!" she screamed.

She rolled off him, her grip loosening as she collapsed onto her side, screaming into the night. The sound was filled with all the pain and confusion that had built up inside her. Charteris lay on the ground, gasping for air, his throat burning from the pressure she had applied. As he struggled to catch his breath, he turned his head to look at her. She was curled up, her body wracked with sobs.

"Damn you and that fucking Belserion blood running in your veins," she sneered, her voice hoarse from screaming.

Charteris pushed himself up, his hand instinctively reaching for his sore throat. "Irene…" he said, but she cut him off with a sharp glare.

"Don't," she hissed, her voice shaking with emotion. "Don't you dare say my name, Belserion!"

A/N: Well, that was quite longer than I had expected, so I decided to leave some for the next chapter. Please feel free to leave your thoughts in your reviews. I love reading them, and they motivate me to update faster. I'll post another update next week or perhaps earlier if I have some time. Thank you for reading my stories. Bye for now.