He was close to her sister Josietine and one of her most loyal followers. During his lifetime, he sometimes looked at her sister with such deep eyes, not as a subordinate to a superior, but as a “woman”. Perhaps that is why he ended up as a “severed head” on a pole.

“My lady.”

“Felix.”

Felix, who had returned with his back torn and scarred from the lashes of a leather whip, still wore the same calm expression. Perhaps it was something to be thankful for – that this face, this handsome young man, had not become another ‘severed head’. The Crown Prince had long since lost his mind. If he hadn’t, he would never have ordered Josietine to personally execute one of the guards and display the severed head on a pole.

“It would be best if we left now.”

Renee climbed into the carriage, her jaw shaking with humiliation. Felix acted as if seeing the severed head on the pole would hurt her badly, treating her with the gentleness one might show a child. Renee glanced at Felix briefly before speaking.

“And Sister Josie?”

“She’s with His Highness the Crown Prince.”

“It would be better if we could go together. Father hopes for my sister’s return.”

“His Grace’s wishes must take precedence over His Highness’s orders…”

There was no need to explain that the orders of the Crown Prince always took precedence over the wishes of a mere Marquis. Renee knew this very well, so her question wasn’t out of ignorance. Still, she wanted to understand why the Crown Prince kept her sister at his side. It was more than curiosity, it was fear. But she couldn’t bring herself to ask more.

The carriage began to move, leaving Count Phelan’s estate behind.

Renee’s eyelids fluttered. Her thoughts turned to the Crown Prince. She had known him for a long time. She wouldn’t claim to know him intimately, but she believed she understood him better than most. The Crown Prince was a strict man, but she had never been afraid of him. Despite his mercilessness, he had always been just a cousin to her.

But now… she wasn’t so sure. Their long acquaintance had once made her feel as if she understood him. His cold and ruthless nature had never frightened her, but now… now she wasn’t so sure. Leaning her head against the window pane, Renee felt consumed by uncertainty.

***

Raoul looked at Josietine. She was kneeling, her face pale and colourless. Her hair, which had been tied back tightly, was now loose for some reason. She raised her head and met the gaze of the man sitting on the high throne.

The Crown Prince was not one to exaggerate. Even now he had not crossed any boundaries. He did not shout or throw things. As commander of the army he acted strictly according to military law and would continue to do so.

When Renee got into the carriage that morning, she was trembling and insisted that the Crown Prince had finally gone mad. But Raoul thought otherwise. The Crown Prince was not mad – it was simply his nature. He had always been like that, cruel by nature. The decision to behead the guard was not only because he had failed in his duties.

It was because the guard had betrayed him. He had deceived the Crown Prince, caused his comrades to fail, and ultimately undermined the discipline of the army. Once you were knighted, it didn’t matter if you were a man or a woman – a knight was a knight. Josietine was the Prince’s knight before she was a noblewoman. Her role as his subordinate took precedence over her status as the daughter of a marquis.

“Ladan was deeply devoted to Josietine. And Josietine, in turn, cared for Ladan…”

She shook her head slightly. A woman who could never be accepted as his wife, one who could only exist as a mistress because she was not accepted. There were many reasons for Josie to envy her. But she was a knight, and knights were bound by their code of honour. For Raoul, Josietine was someone he could never accept. It was only natural that he couldn’t understand her, even as a person.

The Crown Prince, who had been concentrating on the map, raised his head. Sophie, who had been bowing, slowly raised her eyes to meet his. She drew a dagger from her belt and cut her long golden hair. With a swift slash, the strands fell to the ground. Then she held out her badge, engraved with a red lily, and her sword.

“What are you doing?”

“I am here to atone for my sins.”

“For envying my wife?”

“……”

“Could it be that you were trying to seduce your subordinate?”

Josietine’s pale face shook violently. The piercing blue eyes of the Crown Prince bore down on her mercilessly. Alexis, who had kept his head down, lifted his hardened gaze to meet the Crown Prince’s. Meanwhile, Josietine, suppressing her humiliation, pressed her lips together in silence.

She was the woman who almost became his fiancée. She wasn’t just a subordinate; she was the woman he had promised a future with. Everyone believed this to be true and thought that if the emperor hadn’t died, Josietine would have been crown princess by now. She was a woman who could even have become an empress.

It was also thought that the Crown Prince had refrained from associating with other women because of Josietine. But then…

“Your Highness.”

“Even if you offer me everything, I have already lost my wife and daughter.”

“Your Highness, I…”

“Leave.”

The voice was deep and cold. His expression was as neutral as ever. A shiver ran down her spine. She couldn’t predict what would happen next. A life had already been lost. If the Crown Prince had decided to carry out an execution, there was no justification for further punishment.

This was a serious matter. It wasn’t just the loss of a concubine, it was the loss of the Crown Prince’s wife and daughter. Even Josietine had never knelt before him to ask for forgiveness. It wasn’t just her status, it was the weight of her presence in his life.

“I will never look at you again.”

Josietine looked up at him with desperate eyes. It was almost as if her bloodless lips were begging for death. The Crown Prince stared at her for a moment before speaking.

“Execute her according to military law.”

Raoul lowered his head. The knight who had been waiting beside the Crown Prince pulled her away. The Crown Prince’s gaze shifted away from the fragile woman. Atlion, clenching his fists, scanned the map with dull eyes.

He thought of the empty bed. He had no idea how many more days he would have to wait before it could be filled. His mind was consumed by the harsh reality of loss. The mere thought of it made his blood boil.

This was a new experience for him. These feelings were unfamiliar. Even when he’d lost his father, he’d never felt such intense, seething anger. His skin burned with rage. The heat overwhelmed him, causing an involuntary chill to rise. His emotions twisted in a dark, sticky tangle.

A rage he couldn’t contain filled him from head to toe. He swallowed dryly, his eyes fixed on the things he had buried his face in, overcome by fear.

He parted his lips and the words left him. Swan was gone. With the child…

She was a woman who feared raising a child alone. That was why she had hugged her swollen belly throughout her pregnancy, her eyes filled with tears. But how could she disappear without a trace like that? No, could she really escape him?

But Swan had run away from him. There was no other way to describe it than “she ran away”. A feeling of unease twisted in his body. It was as if he wanted to sever the heads of the fools who trembled in fear of dying at his hands, but that wouldn’t satisfy him. Only finding them and holding them would relieve the frustration he felt.

“We are searching the Isril Forest with Count Phelan’s knights.”

A pale face filled his vision. He thought back to when his father had died. At the time, his feelings had seemed justified. He had lost his lord and father in the blink of an eye. It had been a fleeting moment. The overwhelming feeling of not having supported him properly had filled him with nothing but anger.

And then everything had fallen apart.

He wasn’t afraid. He was determined to rebuild everything with his own hands. But now…

“Unbelievable.”

A dry laugh escaped him. Even during the wars of the Empire, he had maintained more composure than this. He had never been consumed by the moment. Everything felt like an empty void. There was no reason to move forward. If he found her, that would be enough.

He could bring her back, undress her and teach her how to submit to her husband as a woman. But even that didn’t ease his anger. Why not? Because Swan had run away from him. Swan was his woman. She was his wife and his possession.

So the place where Swan belonged was in his bedroom. She should be sitting there, warming his bed, n*ked under his covers. That was her only purpose.

The image of her in a veil worth less than a simple cloth, holding a bouquet of wildflowers, came to mind. The reason he had gone through with the marriage, even under those circumstances, was because he wanted her to know that she had become his wife. If that weren’t the case, why would a woman pregnant with his child be in such a remote village, trying to live as a commoner?

“Your Highness.”

He took a deep breath that felt heavy in his chest. His hand, clad in a gauntlet, clenched and unclenched several times. It felt as if his skin was being torn so deeply that it could not bear the strain.

“Find her. Find her and bring her to me.”

The shivers that ran through his joints were excruciatingly painful. Unable to shake off the emotion, he simply tightened his lips. Unable to control himself, he tipped the table over. With a crash, part of the wooden table broke off and rolled across the floor.

“Swan…”

His chest heaved deeply. The desire to chew and shove every last nail into her mouth made his jaw quiver. He thought of the woman with the distorted eyes. He wanted to strip her white body and spread her legs. Then he wanted to f*ck her until his rage was gone. Would it be better to thrust his p*nis into her tight hole and shake his hips?

He resented the fact that he had only impregnated her once. He thought he should have impregnated her a few more times. If breaking her legs wasn’t an option, he would make sure her pregnant belly would never dry up by filling it with his seed. As her body grew heavier, his desires would naturally diminish.

“I will do as Your Majesty commands.”

Raoul bowed his head deeply. Before Atlion’s gaze could reach him, he hurried out of sight. The image of the broken wooden table remained in his mind, though he wasn’t sure what had happened.

He lowered his eyes to his heavy lower body. Just the thought of her n*ked white form made him harden. Raising a hand, he ruffled his hair and rubbed his eyelids. Pressing his lips together, he steadied his breathing, then rummaged through his belongings and pulled out the negligee the woman had been wearing.

He lifted the negligee and inhaled its scent. A hint of apples. The image of long, wavy, ginger-coloured hair floated before his eyes. His chest, which had been heaving uncontrollably, began to calm. The memory of sinking into her damp warmth and biting her neck remained vivid, the taste still lingering in his mouth.

He licked his lower lip with his tongue, smelling the woman’s scent on the negligee. Then he shook his long, thick, swollen p*nis back and forth.

It was skin he could lick and bite all he wanted. Even when she was pregnant with Mirabella, it was the same. In the evening, Swan prepared herself for his embrace. And Atlion never refused her, not even once.

Even when he got used to holding Swan, it remained the same. The f*replay was always fresh, and Swan was always sweet.

“Ahhh. Sir….”

He closed his eyes. The memory of Swan’s warm, moist breath brushing against his earlobe surfaced in his mind. A shiver ran through him and he jumped, shaking himself audibly.

“Ugh…”

He opened his eyes. On his throbbing p*nis were visible tendons. He wrapped his p*nis in the negligee that he had picked up and shook it as if he was shaking his hips. The memory of the night when he had squeezed her hole and sucked his p*nis flooded his mind. He *jaculated without swallowing his suppressed moan and just let it out.

“Swan.”

Atlion murmured his wife’s name with a blank expression as he looked at the negligee soaked with his s*men. He clenched his fist and the negligee naturally crumpled in his hand. Narrowing his brows and breathing heavily, he pressed his lips together and held the negligee close to his chest.

“Swan….”