Kaelid held Eldan down. His blue eyes glowed coldly in the darkness. He slowly scanned Reina’s body with his gaze.

He looked at the nape of her neck, covered in bite marks. The red marks on her br*ast and between her legs, where she was soaking wet and leaking s*men.

“Yeria, Yeria!”

Eldan shoved his son aside, reaching for her in frantic confusion, unable to grasp the reality of the situation. But Kaelid, his expression set in stone, forced his father back onto the bed and held him down.

With deliberate calm, he drew his sword. Even beneath the faint glow of the moonlight, the silver blade shone a stark, merciless white.

He didn’t say a word.
Not that Reina wasn’t Yeria.
Not that it was all a misunderstanding.
Not even that he couldn’t forgive him.

He simply drove the blade slowly into Eldan’s neck.

Reina watched the scene unfold with wide, unblinking eyes.

Even in the moment his throat was being slit, Eldan kept murmuring Yeria’s name. He continued to struggle—whether out of a desperate will to live or a mad desire to reach “Yeria,” she couldn’t tell.

At one point, he even tried to reach for Reina, hand outstretched toward her.

“Gghk—”

The short, strangled death rattle sent a chill crawling down her spine.

Blood spurted briefly before dying down. Once the sword had cut more than halfway through his neck, Eldan stopped moving altogether.

Kaelid, his face frozen and expressionless, had killed his father.

As if he were slaying an enemy.

The fury burning in his icy blue eyes was unmistakable, a raw, animalistic rage, like a beast defending what was his.

The bed was soaked in blood.

Reina had seen corpses before, but it had been a long time since she’d watched someone die right in front of her.

She tried to remain composed, but her fingertips trembled.

The pleasure that had wrapped around her body just moments ago had long since turned cold.

Kaelid finally severed Eldan’s neck completely. The head rolled off the bed and hit the floor with a dull thud.

His black eyes were still wide open. The lifeless stare of the dead man sent a chill down Reina’s spine. Without realizing it, she instinctively took a step back.

“Reina.”

The blood-soaked man reached out and cupped her cheek. The sensation of hot, sticky blood smeared against her skin made her shoulders tremble. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Eldan’s severed head.

“You were r*ped, weren’t you?”

“…”

“Answer me.”

When she didn’t respond, still in shock, Kaelid slapped her across the face without hesitation. The loud smack echoed through the room, and her head snapped to the side.

Reina inhaled sharply. Only then did she realize she had forgotten to breathe.

“Answer me. My father r*ped you, didn’t he?”

She nodded slowly.

“Yes.”

Kaelid responded with unsettling calm as he sheathed his blood-covered sword.

Would he have killed her, too, if she had said no? She didn’t dare ask.

Kaelid pulled her to her feet. Her legs were too weak to hold her weight, so she stumbled, and he threw a robe over her shoulders.

Without a word, he strode out of the room.

She stood there, staring blankly at his retreating figure as it disappeared into the darkness.

Her entire body was trembling. Even as she clasped her hands tightly together, the fear only sank deeper into her bones.

She glanced at Eldan’s head still lying on the floor—and quickly squeezed her eyes shut.

‘He killed his own father.’

More terrifying than the severed head was the fact that he’d murdered his own blood without hesitation.

Had he felt nothing for his father at all? Was he truly capable of drawing his sword so mercilessly, just because of what had been done to her?

Her mind was a chaotic mess.

“Ha… Haah…”

Wrapping her arms around herself, Reina clenched her jaw.

She had no idea how much time had passed since Kaelid left, but suddenly the mansion was filled with commotion.

Riders galloped into the darkness of the night, and hurried footsteps echoed through the halls. Lights flared to life.

A short while later, Kaelid entered and found Reina still standing rigid and unmoving in the room. Without a word, he reached for her and gently guided her outside the room.

“My lady! Are you all right?”

Rose, standing at the doorway pale as a sheet, rushed to her side with tears brimming in her eyes.

“I’m… fine.”

“I’ll prepare a bedroom right away. Please, this way.”

With Rose supporting her, Reina glanced back over her shoulder.

Kaelid was giving urgent instructions to a few knights who had rushed in.

Rose led her to the bath.

Once immersed in the hot water, Reina curled into herself. The water was quite warm, but the trembling born of deep, lingering fear refused to subside.

Rose quietly removed the bloodstained clothes and tucked them away out of sight. Then, with clear worry in her voice, she spoke up.

“They said there was an intruder.”

“…”

“And the young master… he saved you.”

The words were so absurd Reina couldn’t help but laugh softly. She could immediately tell this story had been Kaelid’s fabrication.

“If the young master had been in his right mind, no intruder would’ve gotten past him… Ever since he lost Madam Yeria…”

As if trying to soothe her fear, the maid kept rambling on.

For some reason, the tale went that there had been an intruder in Reina’s room, and Eldan had come to protect her—but ended up dead in the process. Then, just as the intruder tried to kill her, Kaelid arrived and fought him off, forcing the attacker to flee.

‘What a sloppy excuse.’

But that would become the official story.

Reina silently mourned the “intruder,” the nameless man who would now be remembered only as a criminal.

Why had Eldan come to her room? Why target someone as insignificant as Reina?

The story left too many unanswered questions. But there was no one who would dare to question Kaelid.

As she sank deeper into the bath, lost in her thoughts, the sudden clatter of hurried footsteps echoed through the hall—followed by the bathroom door slamming open.

“Reina! Reina, are you in here?!”

It was Zephion’s voice.

“Reina!”

How could someone sound so desperate? His voice resembled Eldan’s when he had called out for Yeria.
It carried fear, panic, ike a lost child crying out in despair.

“Pipi, I’m here.”

The moment she answered softly, his footsteps halted, then came the sound of someone walking straight toward the bath.

“Are you… Are you okay? Really okay? Reina.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you hurt anywhere? You really are all right, aren’t you?”

The child rattled the bathroom door, panic clear in his voice.

“I’m fine, Pipi. Calm down.”

Reina rose from the tub and dressed. Once she was in clean clothes, everything that had happened only moments ago already felt like a distant dream. The instant she opened the door, the large boy pulled her into a fierce embrace.

“Reina…”

She wordlessly patted his trembling back.

“I heard what happened.”

‘Which version did he hear?’

Kaelid’s hastily woven lie—or the fragment of truth only a few might know? Feeling the boy’s arms shake, Reina let out a small sigh.

“Like a fool… I didn’t even realize something like that had happened to you.”

Zephion’s grip tightened until she could scarcely breathe. Only then did he exhale a long, shaky breath of relief.

“I really am fine.”

It wasn’t death itself that had shaken her—she’d seen plenty on the battlefield at Kaelid’s side. Watching someone die right before her eyes for the first time in years had been startling, yes, but not truly frightening.

‘What truly terrifies me is that he killed his own father.’

By doing so, Kaelid had all but warned her that anyone who touched her—father or not—could die by his hand. If Eldan hadn’t been spared, what limits did that man have?

She closed her eyes for a moment. Kaelid clearly still didn’t know about Yuta. If he ever found out, he would surely kill him.

‘And if I claimed it was my own seduction, would he kill me as well?’

A dry laugh escaped her. Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a terrible punishment—slaying the woman he coveted with his own hands.

‘Not that I can choose that path right now.’