Had Adrian truly vanished?

Really?

Relief mingled with joy as Breti gently cupped Karsten’s cheek.

“There will be no more hardships because of Adrian. No more sleepless nights weighing on you.”

“Your Highness.”

Breti called to him softly.

“I want to know your middle name.”

After several rounds of lovemaking, Karsten had asked for Breti’s middle name. But she couldn’t bring herself to answer. Instead, under his touch, she gradually drifted into sleep.

Even so, she kept stroking his cheek as she finally opened her lips.

“My middle name… is Jena.”

Long ago, in the distant past, she had told him her middle name.

“What’s your middle name?”
“No. I won’t tell you.”
“If you do, I feel like I’ll be able to see something more.”
“…You know you’re not supposed to tell anyone this, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Jena. It means little bird.”

It had been the day she saved him when he was a child. But it seemed that name no longer lingered in his memory.

Pressing her face once more into his chest, Breti whispered faintly.

“Please… remember.”

Time and again, she wished he would remember those moments with her and see the girl in them, smiling at her.

The faint, sweet scent of him filled her senses, making her heart race. Breti’s breathing became steady, rising and falling rhythmically.

And when, at last, her breaths settled into an even rhythm—

Karsten, who had kept his eyes shut all along, suddenly snapped them open.

Karsten—or rather, Adrian—opened his eyes and found Breti nestled in his arms. His brow furrowed.

“Well, well.”

Adrian shook his head, clearly displeased with the situation.

“When did the two of you become so close?”

Seeing them together, closer than he had realized, caused him to scowl faintly. Reaching towards Breti’s face, he found it resting peacefully against his chest. Her breath rose and fell steadily.

She looked utterly blissful in her sleep, and this made him want to destroy that expression immediately. A twisted urge surged within him, but he suppressed it, lifting one corner of his mouth into a crooked smile.

“This is troublesome.”

It’s truly troublesome. It’s hard to decide whether to wake her up and risk making her cry, or to leave her undisturbed while she sleeps.

“Remarkable… Breti.”

His gaze drifted to the hollow of her collarbone. When he spotted the mark blooming red like a flower, his brows drew tighter.

“How dare you.”

The words slipped out in a low murmur as he lowered his lips to the spot. He pressed against it for a long while before finally pulling away, a look of satisfaction settling on his face. The small, red flower had already deepened and spread.

With a pleased smile, he looked down at her.

“Breti.”

Though she was lost in deep sleep and could not hear him, he called her name several times, stroking her hair.

“You must be mine.”

The moment he spoke those words, the rain outside began to let up.

“It seems time is not on my side.”

Adrian said, eyes fixed on the thinning drizzle.

“But I have plenty of time.”

Adrian murmured softly and pressed his lips to the back of Breti’s hand.

“Wait for me, Breti.”

At last, the rain stoped.

💙💙💙 💙💙💙

In the depth of night, while all others slept, a carrier pigeon flew into the Imperial Palace. Its destination was Pophia Palace, where Eglet resided.

The pigeon tapped its beak against the glass, and Eglet appeared, opening the window. She quickly retrieved a slip of paper from the pouch tied to its leg.

[Payment for the hunt seeds required.]

The message was simple.

As though she had anticipated this request, Eglet folded a prepared piece of parchment into a small square and tucked it back into the pouch. Then, she sent the bird soaring into the night sky.

“Your Majesty.”

At that moment, a gentle yet familiar voice called to her.

Turning, Eglet slowly walked toward the one who had spoken her name.

“Jerron.”

The man waiting for her was none other than Jerron. For some reason, he had not returned to his marquisate at such a late hour. Instead, he was sitting at the side of her bed.

Unlike his usual formal attire, he was dressed simply in a tunic and seated comfortably in the princess’s chamber.

As she approached, Eglet tenderly brushed her hand over his face.

“There will be no need for you to see Duke White again, Marquis.”

“What do you mean by that, Your Majesty?”

Jerron was so unsettled by her alluring touch that he could not suppress his reaction; it was as if she were seducing him. He reached out towards her.

He slid his hand to her waist and traced the curves of her body. She naturally accepted his touch, bringing her lips to his.

Their kiss deepened, stretching on until they were soon tumbling across the bed. Taking the upper hand, Jerron pressed a trail of kisses over her alluring body.

“Ah… Jerron.”

Breathy moans escaped from Eglet’s lips. With a teasing sigh, she pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him. Her movements were practiced and familiar, drawing low groans from Jerron’s lips time and again.

This forbidden union was far from a one-time indulgence. They had been bonded long before Eglet became empress. Since reaching adulthood, they had shared their bodies almost daily.

First, Jerron married his betrothed while Eglet ascended to the throne as planned. Yet even after they each had a spouse of their own, their secret entanglement never ended.

Until one day, Eglet became pregnant by him.

“Ahh! Jerron!”

That child was none other than Fedriol. The man who now bore the title of Crown Prince was not the blood of Emperor Raician, but Jerron’s son.

“Haa… haa…”

After making love, Eglet collapsed on top of Jerron, pressing her chest against his. He caressed her bare skin and brushed his lips against her shoulder, as if to leave behind the lingering heat of their passion.

“What was it you sent with the carrier pigeon just now?”

“Who can say.”

Eglet gave him a faint smile, once more stoking his desire. At her tantalizing play, lines creased Jerron’s brow.

“…Your Majesty.”

Seeing his manhood grow again, Eglet curved her lips into a sultry smile.

As she pulled him back inside her, their bodies entwined once more. Jerron grasped her waist and began thrusting into her with greater force.

“Haah… ugh!”

Eglet’s delicate moans spilled into the room.

Only after several rounds of passion did Eglet finally part her lips.

“It’s is a map showing secret routes along the northern border.”

She sent a map detailing the secret passages in the northern part of Pensia to the carrier pigeon.

“What…!”

Jerron’s voice rose in alarm before softening into troubled reproach.

“To divulge imperial secrets to another nation—this must never be done, never.”

“When prey bites into my arm, do you know the simplest way to kill it?”

“Your Majesty…”

“It is to thrust my arm even deeper into its mouth. Then, in the moment it grows careless, plunge the blade into its body.”

To Eglet, even the leaking of such secrets was nothing of consequence.

Jerron’s gaze upon her held both sorrow and fear.

As Eglet drew her clothes back over her shoulders, she looked at him.

“It is enough so long as you keep silent, Marquis.”

“…”

“And besides…”

Caressing his cheek, Eglet added,

“For our Fedriol—what would I not do?”

“…”

“Jerron, you think as I do, don’t you?”

Her blue eyes, luminous under the moonlight, glittered coldly.

Jerron, meeting that gaze, slowly nodded.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Her lips curved into a satisfied smile as she burrowed into his arms. Jerron’s hand, caressing the curve of her back, trembled faintly at the fingertips.