She had resigned herself to being treated as spoils of war.

But the man before her gave off a feeling that was, how to put it, even worse than that.

That mischievous glint in his eyes, like he’s looking at a toy he could break at will.

This man is dangerous.

Unconsciously taking a step back, Vanessa bristled like a hedgehog.

“Escal. You were out here.”

“Of course. As your younger brother, shouldn’t I naturally greet you upon your return?”

Judging from this exchange, it seemed this man was Jurgen’s male sibling.

Escal Drake… A name I’ve never heard before.

“So, what’s this spoil of war? Are you thinking of using her as a bedwarmer?”

Escal, who bore no resemblance to Jurgen despite being his brother, asked while glancing at Vanessa.

Jurgen’s eyebrow twitched, and he answered in a cold, subdued voice.

“You know I don’t keep bedwarmers.”

“Well, yes… but you might have changed your mind. Besides, isn’t it a waste to use such a beauty merely as decoration?”

“Drop it, Escal. This is none of your business.”

Though she wasn’t sure, it seemed Jurgen was displeased with his younger brother’s words and actions. Just as Vanessa was thinking she never expected to sympathize with Jurgen Drake, he approached and roughly pulled her along.

Vanessa, not understanding what was happening, was dragged along as she glanced back. In Escal Drake’s dark eyes that were fixed on her, an ominous excitement was swirling.

Jurgen roughly shoved Vanessa into a room on the second floor of the main building, in the east corridor.

She thought it might be a windowless cell, but surprisingly, it was a proper bedroom. As she looked around in bewilderment, Jurgen glared at her coldly and turned to leave.

Click. The sound of a lock engaging came from outside the door.

Confused, Vanessa quickly approached the door and tried pushing and pulling it with all her might. But the door remained firmly shut, not budging an inch.

…Am I really locked in?

Although being suddenly confined was absurd, thinking about it calmly, it wasn’t that strange. After all, she had been captured as a spoil of war.

However, what was puzzling was… Vanessa slowly blinked and carefully looked around the room. This bedroom was far too luxurious for a mere prisoner to use.

A lavish tapestry bearing the Drake family crest hung on one wall, sturdy furniture made of mahogany, an elegant bed draped with velvet curtains and a canopy, even a tiger skin rug on the floor…

It looked more like a proper noblewoman’s bedroom than a room to confine a prisoner.

There’s no way Jurgen could have mistaken the room…

Then what was the meaning of this treatment? Was it because of her royal status, that they were showing some consideration?
But what benefit would Jurgen Drake gain from being considerate to me?

Vanessa approached the bed and plopped down. As she stared blankly at the ceiling, suddenly, a side door opened, and three or four people entered. Judging by their attire, they seemed to be maids.

“Excuse us, Your Highness. We have orders from the lord to assist you with bathing and grooming. Please wait a moment while we prepare the bath water.”

“……”

Your Highness… Like the knights, these maids also seemed to have decided to uniformly address Vanessa, whose position was ambiguous, as princess or Her Highness.

Well, since Terevron no longer exists, it would be strange to be called Your Majesty. Vanessa was originally a princess of Roengreen, so that would be the most appropriate way to address her.

But I’m a prisoner, yet they’re not only calling me princess but actually treating me like a noble guest.

What on earth is Jurgen Drake thinking? A fallen queen with an ominous reputation like me should have no value to him.

‘Perhaps…’

At the sudden hypothesis that crossed her mind, Vanessa’s eyes grew cold.

✦ ✦ ✦

‘To think that Jurgen, that inhuman brother of mine, would bring back a woman.’

Escal stood by the window in the corridor, looking down at the garden. Servants were moving the gold and silver treasures obtained as spoils from this expedition to the warehouse.

Jurgen Drake, backed by the Emperor’s favor, always took a hefty share for himself whenever he subjugated large or small territories and countries as the ‘Executioner’.

This time was no different. Escal clicked his tongue as he looked down at the mountain of treasures. Jurgen, who hoarded treasures like a greedy dragon, seemed somehow lacking. His behavior of increasing wealth as if trying to fill an unfillable void was nothing short of madness.

Well, considering Jurgen’s past and the environment he grew up in, it’s understandable.

That’s why it was even more unexpected. That woman… She seemed frighteningly beautiful, but to think she was the queen of Terevron.

‘I wonder for what reason Jurgen brought that woman back alive instead of killing her. Even those knight bastards don’t seem to know.’

Even if they did know, those battle slave bastards wouldn’t say a word.

Those arrogant sons of bitches… May they die on the battlefield and return as corpses someday. Escal gritted his teeth as he muttered this curse.

As the illegitimate child of the previous duke and Jurgen’s half-brother, he held an ambiguous position in this castle.

Four years ago, when Jurgen drew his sword of revenge, he survived by siding with him, but he was living as a freeloader with empty hands, without any share for himself.

Because of this, he was subtly disrespected by the retainers, the knights, and even the lowly servants.

A useless husk, not even a knight.

A good-for-nothing who doesn’t even help with state affairs.

Escal was not unaware of the words spoken about him.

That humiliation, self-loathing, anger― whenever those muddy emotions swept over him, he felt like he was going mad.

But Escal was powerless. His half-brother was a possessor of martial arts that transcended humanity, a ‘power user’ blessed by God. What could he do against such a being?

While harboring a vile inferiority complex towards Jurgen, Escal also feared him. That inhuman strength, that sharpness honed by the madness and blood of the battlefield…

‘That woman…’

That woman whom Jurgen seemed to want to keep in his grasp for some reason.

Could that woman bring him down? An impure interest, a thrilling yet anxious impulse surged within him.

If only he could see Jurgen Drake fall, even just once…

✦ ✦ ✦

After bathing and changing into clean clothes, Vanessa sprawled on the bed and slept soundly for hours.

To survive, one must first eat well, and second, get plenty of rest.

Whatever happens, Vanessa had no intention of dying. Even though she had been captured and brought to the dragon’s lair, her principle was to survive until the end.

Hadn’t she endured and persevered even while living as a wife to the violent Leroy? Having finally been liberated from that bastard, she couldn’t give up on life now.

Vanessa rose, stretching her stiff body. It seemed to be early dawn, and a reddish light was brightening beyond the horizon.

Quietly gazing at the sky turning into mysterious shades of purple and pink, Vanessa approached the door and tried turning the handle.

Click, the sound of the lock engaging was heard. She tried the side door as well, but it was the same. It seemed she was still in a state of confinement.

Vanessa glared at the firmly closed door as if it were her mortal enemy. She resolved to definitely question Jurgen about his intentions when she met him.

Jurgen came to see Vanessa around 11 AM that day. Vanessa, who had been listlessly solving puzzles brought by the maids to pass the time, jumped to her feet as soon as she saw him.

His attitude was dry, as if he had just come to check if a dog he was raising was still alive.

Vanessa strode up to the man who just stood with his arms crossed, glaring at her, and mustered the courage to speak.

“Duke, there’s one thing I’d like to confirm.”

“What is it?”

“Are you going to hand me over to the Roengreen royal family for a ransom? Did my brother say he would do so?”

Vanessa’s voice as she asked this was extremely cold. Rather than hoping for it to happen, it sounded more like she would never forgive him if he did so.

Jurgen, with a faint sneer, gave his answer.

“You must have guessed that I didn’t bring you here with that intention.”

“Then what is it? Do you plan to offer me as a sacrifice to the ‘Red Front’?”

The Red Front. The ‘Northern Front’ bordering the land of extreme cold to the north of the Drake Duchy is also called that. Because a red mist, imbued with the blood of soldiers killed by frost monsters, is always hanging there.

The custom of offering beautiful women as sacrifices to that Red Front was abolished over 100 years ago, but she threw it out there just in case.

After all, she― Vanessa Roengreen, was beautiful enough to make foolish people harbor vain delusions and superstitions.

Jurgen clicked his tongue as if he had heard some ridiculous nonsense and said,

“I don’t do that kind of thing.”

His expression was as if he had been insulted. Vanessa, not averting her gaze from his fierce stare, asked again. Her voice tinged with the anxiety, fear, and frustration she had been suppressing.

“Then, what do you intend to do with me, keeping me locked up here?”

“……”

Jurgen glared at her silently for a long time. That silence was as cold as midwinter. At some point, he began to close the distance, one step, two steps. As if cornering prey.

Vanessa felt her breath catching with each step he took closer, and she retreated step by step.

When she was backed against the wall with nowhere else to retreat, Jurgen’s overwhelming shadow loomed over her like it was about to swallow her whole.

Vanessa looked up at him, swallowing hard. Her frightened body began to tremble slightly. The giant man backlit by the light seemed more threatening than ever.

“There’s only one thing I want from you.”

He declared it like a curse.

“Marry me, Queen of Terevron. No, Vanessa Roengreen.”

For a proposal, it lacked any romance or hope.

In a voice that seemed to be boiling with hatred, resentment, and the desire for destruction.