Chapter 5: The Truth Revealed (5)

Moonlight pierced through the leaves, glinting for a moment in the storm of his blue eyes before vanishing again.

And when Larie opened her eyes once more, she saw it.

The turmoil. The passion. All of it reflected there.

The pain that had vanished during the kiss came crashing back like a wave.

The sensation shook her to her core.

Perhaps that’s why—when she looked at him again—

She could no longer hold back the emotions she had sealed away for so long.

Whenever she saw him, something would stir in her chest.

Like a tickle, like a scratch.

Now, at last, she had a name for it.

A quiet ache. A sorrow so heavy she couldn’t bear to speak it aloud.

“……Terian.”

His brows, drawn tight with confusion, rose as his eyes widened in disbelief.

Larie thought absently:

The way his eyes trembled now… they looked exactly like the relationship between them.

Fragile. Uncertain. Always shaking.

“……You… what are you…”

“…….”

His chest constricted.

Terian forced out words, broken and halting. They fell clumsily between his teeth, and he cursed himself for it.

He should let go.

He had to.

If he didn’t, he would hurt her again.

But he didn’t let go.

The foolish part of him—

It couldn’t.

And then she reached out once more, gentle as silence.

Her hand rose to his face, toward his cheek.

And all Terian could do was stand there, helpless, watching it come.

He had been frozen for a while now, as if his soul were bound—unable to move an inch before her.

Because she had called his name for the first time.

He couldn’t understand it.

Why was she reaching out to him?

Wasn’t it that she wanted to run away?

Even with that heavy doubt, he surrendered to the hand that pulled him again.

If she reached for him first, Terian could never refuse.

He never had.

Their lips met again.

Consumed by impulse, Terian let go of her shoulders and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“……Ugh!”

He pulled her tight. Their upper bodies pressed close, and her scent filled his lungs.

That scent—he wanted more of it.

So he tilted his head and dove in deeper.

As his lips parted hers and he invaded that space, something inside him trembled.

One hand trailed up her side, then wrapped around the back of her slender neck.

Terian kept pulling her in.

Again and again, until his longing became obsession.

Until it felt like the only answer was to become one with her.

Larie’s foot bumped into his—startled by how little space remained between them.

But he didn’t care.

Breathlessly, hungrily, he kissed her.

In the darkened forest, their breaths blurred together so fully it was impossible to tell whose was whose.

Then suddenly—thud.

Their bodies jolted.

Larie had been pushed back into the trunk of a large tree.

Cornered now with nowhere left to run, Terian devoured her breath like a madman.

Wet, shameful sounds filled the air, echoing carelessly in the secluded woods.

“Uh… hnn…”

Out of breath, Larie let out a choked cry that sounded too close to a sob.

At that, Terian snapped out of it.

“Hah…”

“……Tch.”

Disgust welled up in his throat.

He felt like a beast.

And yet the anger inside him hadn’t faded.

That fury—born the moment she vanished—still clawed at him, even as she melted into his arms.

He was rotting inside.

Like the shadowy underbrush of an old forest, long untouched by light.

Terian had faced this same self-loathing many times at the Grand Duchy estate.

Nights just like this—black, endless—when Larie came to fulfill their duty as husband and wife, and he couldn’t bring himself to push her away.

He’d hated himself for that want.

Hated himself for never saying, “You don’t need to come anymore.”

For letting her walk in with that pained expression, every time.

Back then, and even now, Larie looked up at him with a faint grimace.

If she hated it so much—why had she reached out first?

He tried to crush the shame and guilt twisting up inside him again.

Tried to push it down like always.

But just then—on this moonless new moon night—light spilled through the trees.

“……My lady…?”

Perhaps the clouds had drifted.

The moonlight that pierced the canopy was dim, but here in the forest, it gleamed like silver fire.

Her face lit up beneath it.

And in that quiet brilliance, Terian saw her clearly—

like a moment pulled from myth.

A glimmer of sweat clung to her pale forehead.

“Larie!”

He’d thought she was frowning in disgust, but now he could see.

She was pale—deathly so.

Snapping to his senses, Terian yanked off his cloak and wrapped it tightly around her.

Then, gently but urgently, lifted her into his arms.

“Urgh…”

Her brows knit again in pain, and Terian couldn’t take his eyes off her face.

He didn’t know the cause. But she was suffering.

“Let’s go back.”

The paler her skin looked, the more desperate Terian’s stride became.

He needed to get her out of here.

Now.

Moonlight followed them through the trees.

Guiding them. Watching them.

Unrelenting.

❖ ❖ ❖

Staring at the sleeping Larie now, Terian felt like he’d been bewitched.

Like a nymph had lured him under her spell.

“……”

Terian arrived at the Empress’s palace in a daze, and by then, Larie had already slipped into a faint sleep.

She didn’t wake, but the palace physician who came shortly after said there was nothing wrong with her.

That diagnosis nearly drove Terian mad.

She’d looked so deathly pale—and yet, apparently, she wasn’t ill?

He pressed the physician several more times, but the only answer he received was: “It may be of the heart.”

Of the heart.

That’s what had driven her into the forest alone, in the dead of night.

Terian could still see it vividly—her figure disappearing without hesitation into the dark trees.

If he’d been a moment later, there was no telling how far she would’ve gone.

But even after he’d caught up to her—then what?

Why had Larie kissed him?

“……”

Without thinking, Terian’s fingers grazed his own lips.

His jaw tightened.

Looking down at her now—still asleep—his gaze was tangled in confusion.

Even after the physician left, Terian hadn’t moved from her bedside.

Had he startled her by rushing after her?

Did she do it just to deflect, to distract—

like those many nights she came to him under the guise of duty?

His fists clenched on his lap.

Back then, he’d told himself her frowns were because of disgust.

But now—had he misunderstood again?

He’d felt it.

Felt her pain as if it were his own—raw and consuming.

So why was his mind circling in place, over and over, caught in this storm of contradiction?

By the time dawn approached, the storm in his face had finally quieted.

He dropped his gaze and slowly shook his head.

In all that confusion, one thing had become certain.

It didn’t matter what the reason was.

Because—

“……Terian.”

She had called his name.

And now, more than ever—

he could no longer let her go.

She gripped his soul with just a single word.

So fiercely that his chest ached, as if squeezed tight.

The image of her figure melting into the forest like water overpainted on a watercolor haunted him.

And that image—so fragile, so fading—had cast a chill of dread down Terian’s spine.

She had wandered into the woods alone, leaving even the child behind.

He couldn’t be certain whether she truly meant to leave everything behind,

but it had been enough to make Terian wary.

Only when the sun finally began peeking over the horizon did he rise from the chair.

“Have the physician examine her the moment she wakes.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The palace attendants, who had stayed up the night alongside him, bowed low.

Among them, the head maid’s worried face made it clear she was sincerely concerned for Larie.

Without another word, Terian stepped out of the bedchamber.

Just before he fully exited the Empress’s palace, he gave one final order.

“From this moment on, close off the Empress’s quarters.”

“B-but, Your Majesty…!”

The head maid immediately objected, dismay washing over her face.

Her reaction was bold—unbecoming—but Terian let it pass.

Instead, he turned to the knights tasked with guarding the Empress’s wing.

Though the Empress’s palace was already the most tightly secured part of the inner court,

this command bore a different weight.

“Do not let the Empress leave the palace.

She is not permitted even on sacred grounds.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Tension fell over the knights’ expressions.

And then—the head maid fell to her knees before him.

“Your Majesty! It was our failure to attend to Her Highness properly.

I beg you, reconsider!”

“……”

Terian gazed down at her with an icy stare,

yet strangely—his feet refused to move.

“…Terian.”

It was her voice—again.

A phantom echo of her calling his name, endlessly.

Maybe that’s why.

Why he added one more order, even knowing it might make all else useless.

“…If she asks for me—

don’t stop her.”

***

It felt like she had wandered through a long dream.

In it was a dense forest—one held close within the arms of a great mountain.

It was a place that somehow felt familiar, almost enough to bring her to tears.

Drifting aimlessly through that vague emotion, Larie finally opened her eyes.

The now-familiar ceiling of the Empress’s palace came into view.

“……”

Staring quietly at the intricate, carved patterns above her, she slowly lowered her gaze.

And there, at her bedside, was an empty chair.

It felt like Terian had been sitting there all along.

Though she knew better, the sensation was strange—unnervingly real.

Had she perhaps seen him in one of the dreams she could no longer recall?

Just then, the door clicked softly open.

Charelle stepped inside carrying a water jug, her face lighting up at the sight of Larie awake.

“You’ve come to, Your Highness.”

Yet her features held a trace of worry.

Something about that settled sharply into Larie’s chest, and she instinctively averted her eyes.

Charelle was a kind person.

But Larie didn’t repeat the foolish mistake of asking, Was he here? Had Terian been at my side?

‘You wouldn’t believe it—she woke up and immediately asked for him.’

‘What nerve. After all that?’

She’d already been wounded enough by words like that.

“How’s Rui?”

“He had breakfast and is now napping, Your Highness.”

Larie gave a small nod at the news.

Knowing Rui was resting brought a sliver of relief.

Still, Charelle’s lingering, worried glance felt too heavy.

Just as she was about to try shifting the subject, another maid’s voice rang in from outside the room.

“Your Highness, the royal physician has arrived.”

“…Yes.”

They’d likely been waiting for her to wake.

The mention of a doctor made her body instinctively tense, but Larie clutched at the bedsheets and forced herself to dispel that familiar fear.

“To our Empress, guardian of the Empire’s forest, I offer my greeting.”

“……”

In the Empire of Laxtreen, tradition held that the Emperor was likened to the lake, and the Empress to the forest that surrounded it.

It was a simple phrase, but among courtly greetings, it was the most respectful—one reserved for one’s sovereign.

Larie couldn’t easily bring herself to respond.