Breeding Marriage - Chapter 2

Reizen stood in front of the rusty iron bars of Sorbet Prison. Looking at the iron door, its paint completely peeled and flaking off, he let out a low chuckle.

“Melissa Grey.”

The woman, who was cowering in the corner like a beaten, frightened dog, stayed curled up and motionless.

Spring had come long ago. Yet she remained crouched on the cold floor like a caterpillar, as if it were still the dead of winter.

David Moore had been Reizen’s close friend. They had grown close while performing plays together during their academy days, a time when the immature Reizen had been truly reckless.

Back then, Reizen had been nothing more than the emperor’s illegitimate child. He had no idea what position he would eventually hold in the future. Because of that, he had shared secrets with David Moore and maintained a relatively open and carefree relationship with him.

“What? You could die if you return to the Imperial City?”

When David Moore heard how illegitimate children had met their ends so far, he willingly sympathized with him.

The reason David, who had lived far removed from politics, joined the Imperial Knights after graduating from the academy was ultimately to serve as Reizen’s protector. But then…

That friend had died. At the hands of this woman.

Reizen’s blue eyes narrowed into slits. Perhaps it was the musty stench of mold that made his head spin.

But what was even harder to endure was the foul stench of blood that grew stronger whenever the breeze blew.

“It seems she must’ve been hit with a lot of stones on the way here. She’s completely out of it—should I go wake her up?”

The woman, whose head had been cracked open and had lost consciousness.

If she had been an ordinary woman, Reizen might have gladly taken out a handkerchief, wiped the blood from her head, and smiled gently at her.

He might have even asked kindly if she was alright, called for a physician, and cared for her. But that woman…

“Hey! Get up already!”

The guard, who was chewing on a blade of grass, opened the iron door, stomped inside, and kicked her bony back without hesitation.

At that moment, the woman let out a sharp gasp, “Huhk!” and opened her eyes. Prodded by the guard’s urging, she reluctantly raised herself up.

She was a woman with unusually pale skin, so light it could be called white. Even with her hair disheveled and matted with blood clots, the moment she lifted her face, it naturally drew attention.

She had once been considered the perfect bride candidate, with a family background, beauty, and grace so exceptional that she was even mentioned as a potential crown princess.

Of course, now, even if she were reborn, such a dream would be utterly out of reach.

Rolling her name around in his mouth like candy, he spoke.

“Melissa… Grey.”

That cruel name he had so desperately wanted to call out.

***

Melissa tilted her head back to look up.

Perhaps because her head had been struck too hard earlier, she felt completely drained of strength. She barely managed to lift her gaze, trembling from the cold that suddenly swept over her shoulders.

It seemed that even spring avoided Sorbet. Though not a single breeze blew, the chilling air prickled her skin.

The massive prison, built in the shadows, lived up to its infamous reputation with its sour and revolting stench.

But still… Still, it was fine. It was better than being Marita’s stud horse outside.

Stud horses were raised for breeding. They cannot die even if they want to, nor can they escape even if they try.

But in Sorbet, she could escape through death.

“Speak clearly! Did you really kill him?”

Melissa kept saying yes.

Here, she didn’t have to become someone’s stud horse or spectacle. As long as she could be called Melissa Grey, that was enough.

So, Melissa was deeply content with being called by her name now.

Some might accuse her of being a crazy woman, but she believed she was freer and more at peace now than ever before.

At least until she came to her senses and locked eyes with a man.

Even through her blurry vision, the man was terrifyingly handsome. Blonde hair and blue eyes. His piercing gaze fixed on Melissa’s face, as if he had come here solely to kill her.

No emotion could be read from his face. His gaze, deep enough to seem bottomless, was so cold and detached that it felt as though he were staring at an inanimate object.

A chill ran down Melissa’s spine.

“Moore had a reputation for being a womanizer since childhood.”

Without even introducing himself, the man began speaking in a soft, almost kind tone that made his words all the more chilling.

“I heard he left quite a few women heartbroken. Most of the women who approached him probably just wanted to get close to me. Judging by how he used my name to drink and party…”

His voice trailed off for a moment, and Melissa slowly lowered her gaze.

But then, as he knelt down in front of her, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look back up as he continued.

“I know. He wasn’t a good knight. He was always disappearing during his shifts, and whenever I found him, it was either alcohol or women. Alcohol, women. Alcohol, women… Women.”

His gaze, tinged with a faint shade of anger, turned to Melissa. At the abrupt end of his words, Melissa flinched and shrank her shoulders. The man’s grip on her chin tightened.

“Why did you kill him?”

A fierce voice.

“No matter how bad of a knight he may have been, he was a good friend to me. That’s why I came here—to find out why you killed him.”

The man had likely come here to deliver the blow of a mace himself, instead of leaving it to the courts, depending on her answer.

His gaze lingered on Melissa’s face for a moment before slowly trailing down her neck. As his empty stare drifted toward the ground, a faint sorrow seemed to flicker in his eyes.

“Are you not going to answer me?”

It was the same question the investigators had tortured her with countless times. Why did she kill him?

Afraid of being suspected as the real culprit if she answered wrong, she had kept her mouth shut.

She didn’t care if she was tortured to death. In fact, she had wished for it.

But as the price of her silence, she had been sentenced to life imprisonment instead of death.

In the caste-driven society of the Sys Empire, a noble killing a commoner carried that kind of meaning.

Just as no one would be punished by law for stepping on an ant while passing by, nobles, too, were not punished for killing commoners.

And even though her family had fallen into ruin and was penniless, she still received a pardon simply because she had once been a noble.

It was absurd. No matter how much the victims’ families beat the ground and cried out in frustration, there was nothing they could do about the dog-like laws.

She understood that. That’s why she quietly spoke as she held onto the hand gripping her chin.

“…Kill me.”

When Melissa’s cold fingertips touched the man’s hand, his gaze deepened.

“The law may not have sided with Lord Moore, but you came here because you still wanted to take his side, didn’t you? So… kill me. Avenge him by killing me.”

“Why does that sound like a confession that you just want to die?”

A cold laugh escaped the man’s lips.

She was a strange woman.

That was exactly what his gaze said as he looked at Melissa.

“Yes, I came here intending to kill you. But if death is what you want, I suddenly don’t feel like letting you go so easily.”

What was she hiding?

The strength in the man’s hand gradually loosened. His narrowed blue eyes, as if trying to discern the truth, carefully examined her face.

“Your Highness, Reizen!”

A knight, who had briefly stepped away, came running back in a hurry, clinging to the iron bars as he shouted.

“His Majesty… His Majesty has…!”

Reizen slowly rose to his feet and straightened his back. He looked at the knight with a calm face, completely unshaken.

“He has ordered Melissa Grey to be brought to the Imperial City. He wishes to see her in person!”

***

The foolish emperor who had created such ridiculous laws was Vincent Roham Zenheiden Kalphenster.

Vincent ascended to the throne at the age of twelve, carried by the afterglow of his father’s glorious reign and the beauty he had inherited from his mother, who was a dancer from a foreign land.

Back when Vincent had just ascended, Duke Grey, who had already solidified his power early on, would often break out in hives at the faintest whiff of revolutionary unrest.

He was always whispering into Vincent’s ear.

“We must ensure that foolish commoners cannot dare to harm nobles, Your Majesty.”

“We must root out and eliminate any commoner factions that may infiltrate the palace, Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty, we must enact laws to prevent filthy commoners from handling the food of nobles with their dirtied hands from farming.”

As long as Vincent heeded his words, he was guaranteed a comfortable golden throne. So, the young emperor devoted himself early on to nightly pleasures, focusing solely on producing heirs.

Especially since he remembered how his popularity before his coronation had stemmed from his father’s legacy and his own beauty. While he couldn’t pass down his father’s legacy, he was determined to at least pass down his looks, and he worked tirelessly to do so.

The result was three princes.

Over the course of more than ten years, he had bedded an enormous number of women and fathered countless children, but only three princes survived.

Whenever a princess was born or an unattractive child was born, he mercilessly killed them, erasing them from the world.

Vincent called this process “weeding out.”

“Even plants require proper thinning to sprout beautiful buds.”

The moment Reizen, who had just returned from Sorbet Prison, entered the emperor’s chamber, Vincent began speaking as he tended to an orchid.

“The same goes for children. Producing beautiful heirs requires truly tremendous effort.”

The emperor bent over, carefully inspecting the orchid.

“I heard you arbitrarily closed the investigation into David Moore’s case?”

“It was to hold a funeral. The victim’s family was too shocked by the sudden incident…”

“Then you should have only closed the investigation. Not gone to her in an attempt to kill her.”

The emperor, who had been gently brushing the orchid’s petals, turned around and spoke.

“How could you discard something so beautiful?”

His face, coated in thick white powder to hide his wrinkles, was grotesquely exaggerated. His bloated flesh, greasy complexion, and caked makeup made his appearance repulsive.

Despite his pursuit of beauty, the aged emperor, no longer beautiful, smiled, revealing his yellowed teeth.