The former king’s body trembled. Cordelia was genuinely afraid he might collapse from the shock. Her arms tightened around her family.

“…And his son?”

The former king’s second question came out as a faint murmur, and Cordelia answered with a heavy heart.

Ah, if only she could have told him that at least the young lord was certainly alive. But the only answer she could give right now was this hopelessly uncertain one.

The former king swallowed a sigh. He gently eased his daughter back and stroked her shoulder softly, as though nothing had passed between them.

Watching her father’s face, aged so much in the past two weeks, Cordelia felt a wave of grief. Alongside the grief crept a slow, rising revulsion and fury toward her half-brother.

“What will become of you now, Father?”

“I’m not sure. For now I’ve heard they’re sending me to a monastery. What happens after that remains to be seen.”

“…Will I ever be able to see you again?”

“If fate allows it, surely. We’ll meet again, Cora.”

But what if fate doesn’t allow it? Cordelia forced the wretched question back down. The old man’s eyes grew sadder, as though he had guessed well enough what she had swallowed.

“And you? Have you heard anything about what Michael intends to do with you?”

“…I’m not entirely sure. I have heard something.”

“What is it?”

“I’m to be… married…”

“What? Married?”

“Yes, Father. I’m to be married. But where I’ll go afterward, I don’t quite…”

“Married to whom?”

The former king could easily guess it was not young Lord Rodrian. Cordelia confessed with a pale face, forcing the words out.

“Ian Lakenon. I’m to marry that man.”

She had steeled herself on the way here. She knew it would be a shock not only to herself, the one directly involved, but naturally to her father as well, to have his precious daughter taken by a traitor’s loyal hound.

Even so, she hadn’t expected a reaction this violent. Cordelia had been holding herself together, and she was startled to see her father’s face drain to a deathly white in an instant.

“Father.”

She whispered, frightened. The former king did not answer. He only gasped for breath, his face the color of a man with a noose around his neck. He clutched his own chest with one hand and seized Cordelia’s arm with the other.

“What? What did you just say?”

“Father, wait. Please calm down first…”

“Ian Lakenon? You mean that wretch standing over there?”

“Father, you’re hurting me. My arm…”

“No, absolutely not! Better to live alone forever than to marry someone like that!”

The former king cried out. His wide-open eyes were bloodshot, and spittle flew from his trembling lips. Cordelia struggled to pry her father’s hand from her arm. But the harder she tried, the tighter his grip became.

Then Ian came running. He grabbed the former king’s wrist and twisted it, and the former king cried out and released his daughter.

The knight pushed the princess gently behind him and turned to face the former king. The former king’s bloodshot eyes fixed directly on the knight’s face.

“You, God will strike you down!”

The former king roared. He lurched to his feet and struck Ian across the cheek with his open palm. Ian turned his head with practiced ease and ran the tip of his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

Having angled his neck in the direction of the blow, his mouth hadn’t split too badly. A faint, metallic taste of blood spread across his tongue.

“You think I don’t know who you are? How dare a filthy wretch like you covet a princess? A lowborn bloodline like yours will defile my daughter!”

“Father, calm down!”

Cordelia cried out, but the former king paid no heed and struck Ian’s cheek again.

Ian turned his head once more and drew both hands behind his back. Subduing a raging old man would have been nothing, but he had no desire to hurt the princess’s father in front of her.

Cordelia stared at her father with a frightened expression. He had always been gentle with her, and she had never once imagined him striking another person in such a frenzy.

The former king struck Ian again and again. By this point Ian gave up trying to minimize the damage and simply let the tension leave his body. There was nothing to do but wait for the other man’s fury to burn itself out.

“Father, stop!”

It was Cordelia who was more alarmed. She ran to the former king and seized his arm.

Beating a man who showed no sign of resistance, without a trace of the tenderness she knew or even the dignity of royalty, her father’s behavior truly shocked her.

“Please, please, stop!”

Only then did the former king seem to settle somewhat. He lowered his hand with a heaving breath and staggered backward. Cordelia still clung to him with a desperate look. Ian spoke, watching her.

“Princess, step away from him. It isn’t safe.”

Cordelia stared at Ian, incredulous. The burst capillaries on his left cheek had left it mottled and red, yet there he was, wearing a perfectly earnest expression and worrying about her safety.

He stepped forward, took her hand, and gently detached it from the former king’s arm. It was a far more careful movement than when he had twisted the former king’s wrist moments ago.

Ian guided the princess back and pressed down on the former king’s shoulders, forcing him to sit on the bed. The former king did not resist. The agitation seemed to be fading and his reason slowly returning. Even so, the gaze he fixed on Ian was still full of hostility.

“What the Princess said is true. She is to marry me. Naturally it is not something she wanted, but it cannot be undone, so please accept it. The wedding is tomorrow, for your information. You won’t be able to attend.”

“What…?”

The former king mouthed wordlessly at Ian’s quietly delivered words. His face was going pale again, and it seemed he might faint at any moment.

Fortunately he did not lose consciousness in the end. He only went on huffing like a trapped animal.

“If you wish to see your daughter again in the future, please conduct yourself with restraint. My liege dislikes outbursts. And it will be His Majesty who decides whether you and your daughter are permitted to meet again, so I would advise you to make an effort from now on to stay in His Majesty’s good graces.”

Ian offered the counsel gravely. The more he spoke, the more the former king looked at him as though confronted with something deeply bizarre. Ian had little interest in that reaction, and he turned away from the former king and looked back at the princess.

“Are you all right?”

Cordelia did not answer. She only stared at Ian with much the same expression as her father. Ian swallowed a bitter feeling.

“Let us go.”

He said. Cordelia remained silent, but when Ian gave her shoulder a light nudge she turned and followed him without protest.

There was no plea to be allowed a last farewell with her father, no question of when they might meet again. She walked out of the room in silence, and Ian closed the door behind her.

Ian escorted the princess back to her room. A few palace attendants they passed along the way glanced at his face. The struck cheek was swelling rapidly. The princess and the knight walked in silence.

When they reached the bedchamber, Cordelia went inside. Ian did not enter with her but watched from outside the door. Cordelia stepped in, hesitated, and slowly turned to face him.

“I’ll send for the maid. When she arrives, have her look at your arm. You may have bruised it.”

Ian said it in earnest. Cordelia bit her lip. She had so much she wanted to say and no idea where to begin, and she wasn’t even sure whether she was allowed to say any of it.

Her wavering gaze traveled slowly over the man’s bruised and swollen cheek, the dried blood at the corner of his mouth. Her eyes climbed upward and met a pair of calm dark violet ones.

Those eyes, still and deep as a quiet lake at night, made her swallow the question that had been hovering on the tip of her tongue.

She had nearly asked if he was all right. But how could such a gentle question be fitting for the lowborn hound of an enemy?

Then she remembered that this man would be her husband tomorrow, and nausea rose at the truth she did not want to accept. Recalling her father’s rage, far more violent than she had anticipated, her heart felt heavy as lead.

“Rest.”

Ian added. He did not whisper any tender parting words to the woman who would become his wife tomorrow. He gave a small nod and turned with a clean step. He did not forget to pull the bell cord before leaving, to summon the maid.

The door closed. Cordelia was left alone in the sealed room. Waiting for the maid to come, she sank slowly down onto the bed.

She covered her face with both hands and closed her eyes in silence. A pitch-black darkness swallowed her. She felt so exhausted she could have wished to sleep forever and never wake.

It was the eve of the wedding.