Ahazan seized the reins of the maddened horse with both hands, his veins bulging from the force.

He bent his body low, completely covering Clodine as he stabilized himself to keep from being thrown off.

Now, his chin rested just above the crown of her head his voice reaching her clearly.

“If we keep going, there’s a cliff ahead. We’re jumping off before that!”

“But how…?!”

To be thrown from a horse like this meant death.

Clodine knew that all too well from experience.

Even if jumping off before being thrown was the only way to survive it was still just as dangerous.

“You’re going to close your eyes and count to ten. Trust me.”

“Ahazan…!”

“Start, Clodine. One!”

The moment he shouted,
Ahazan pulled the long red cloth draped over his shoulder down beneath Clodine’s waist and drew it across her body.

As he yanked it tight behind her,
their bodies were pressed together without the slightest gap.

Clodine shut her eyes tightly, repeating his words to herself.

Trust him.

‘Two… three…!’

His right arm, encased in solid armor, wrapped firmly around her upper body, securing her against him.

As he lowered himself further over her shoulders, her small frame was completely engulfed in his broad embrace.

‘Five… six…!’

Before she could reach nine, Clodine couldn’t bear it any longer.

Her eyes flew open.

And there, just as Ahazan had said, a terrifying cliff loomed ahead, its jagged edge gaping open like a maw, waiting to swallow the charging horse whole.

‘…Ten.’

At last, after what felt like an eternity of seconds, just before the cliff’s edge, toward the narrow strip of barren rock revealed below.

Clodine and Ahazan leapt.

***

The imperial dogfighting arena roared with the voices of nobles.

After a long period of silence with no matches held, the vast space was now overflowing with people, resembling a grand social gathering.

“It seems the Grand Duke’s hound will take today’s victory.”

Yuri von Lernando, Grand Duke, absently brushed the luxurious brooch pinned to his pristine white cravat with unblemished fingers.

“Thank you for your kind words. But the result is only certain once the match is over.”

Yuri’s refined elegance, captivating to both men and women alike, drew countless people eager to stand at his side.

“Where did you acquire such a remarkable hound? It seems no one can match His Highness’s dog in the ring.”

The woman seated boldly beside him, despite the jealous stares of others was Cecilia Ramier, the second daughter of Count Ramier and the Empress’s younger sister.

With a coquettish tone, she addressed him.

Yuri smiled gently, as he did with everyone.

“It is not so much about which dog one chooses… but how one trains and manages it.”

Though he had not treated her with any particular favor, Cecilia lifted her chin proudly, glancing sideways at the other women.

She fluttered her black, perfume-laced fan beneath her chin and let out a soft, affected sigh.

“How wise…”

Yuri responded with a light smile, pure, flawless, and harmless.

Watching him, those around him were once again reminded he was a treasure of the imperial family.

Had he not been such a man despite being a legitimate heir with powerful maternal backing the empire might not have enjoyed such peace, free from succession conflicts.

“Look! The Grand Duke’s hound has secured the final victory!”

“Oh my! Truly!”

Even as he received congratulations, Yuri remained humble.

Not a trace of arrogance stirred within him, even in the face of such a clear triumph.

After the matches ended and the crowd gradually dispersed, only then did Yuri head toward the kennels to see his dog.

Many dogs were housed together two or more per enclosure but Yuri’s dog stood alone in a distant cage.

Its ferocity was so extreme that even outside of matches, it could not be kept near others.

“Well done, Loki.”

Yuri tossed a lump of fresh animal liver into the cage.

“For you, it was just as it should be.”

Then, in a voice far colder than his gentle words suggested, he murmured,

“The other side should bring me victory as well… shouldn’t it?”

His clear, blue eyes, like polished glass, fixed on the beast inside the cage, still raging like a mad dog.

The animal opened its jaws wide to devour the meat.

And inside its mouth was stained entirely with a grotesque violet hue.

The leap meant for survival brought no salvation.

Clodine trembled violently, her body battered as if it might shatter into pieces, as she forced herself upright.

Right beside her Ahazan lay on the ground, his arms still tightly wrapped around her waist.

“Ah… A-Ahazan…”

She had already called his name several times, but there was no response.

Even in her dazed state, his arms remained tightly wrapped around her, rigid, unmoving pressing down on her with a suffocating weight.

“…O-open your eyes… Ahazan… please…?”

Unlike when she had cried out atop the maddened horse, Clodine now wept in silence.

There was nothing loud or desperate about it, and yet, the tears overwhelmed her so completely that she could barely breathe, her lips trembling uncontrollably.

Her five wounded fingers, torn, scraped raw, the flesh beneath exposed in angry red hovered over Ahazan’s injured face.

As if he might vanish the moment she touched him, she couldn’t bring herself to properly caress him, her hand only trembling, hesitating.

“What do I do…? What am I supposed to do…?”

At last, her breath broke free.

Like a lost child, she let out a choked sob, unable to contain it any longer.

“Ahazan… please… please look at me…”

Having taken the full force of the fall alone, Ahazan’s armor had been completely shattered on one side.

But that wasn’t the most urgent problem.

From beneath the broken armor, as if his flesh had been torn open dark red blood began to seep out, spreading steadily over Clodine’s hands and clothes.

There was nothing she could do to stop it.

No one she could call for help.

That realization, so utterly hopeless, quickly stripped away her reason.

Watching him bleed helplessly, her thoughts collapsed into chaos.

“Why…? Why would you…? Why would you do this for me…?”

It had been her.

She was the one who, in front of everyone, had asked to switch horses, inviting this disaster upon herself.

If not for that, Ahazan could have walked away unscathed.

And yet he had risked his life to save her.

The life he had fought to preserve through ten long years on brutal battlefields.

He had cast it aside so easily, just to protect her.

Realizing what that meant the depth of his feelings, the weight of his sincerity Clodine felt her heart twist.

The doubts she had harbored just moments ago now seemed unbearably foolish.

And in their place, a crushing guilt surged forward, swallowing her whole.

“No… no… this can’t be… this can’t be happening…!”

Her voice broke into a raw, desperate cry something she had never uttered in her life.

She clutched Ahazan’s unmoving body, shaking him, though he did not stir.

“Why is it always like this…? Why does it always end like this between us…?”

Why did every ending with him come like this something beyond her control driving her to madness?

Why was it so cruel?

Where had all the mercy of the gods gone?

Why was this love, this love called you, always so merciless… without a single gap to breathe?

“Wake up, Ahazan…! Ahazan, open your eyes…!”

No matter how she begged, no matter how she cried out he did not respond.

Clodine clung to him, sobbing for a long time, until at last, her strength gave out and she collapsed over his chest.

“I… I still have so much I haven’t told you…”

Cruel as it was, her memories chose this very moment to bring forth the most painful regrets.

She didn’t have to look far just recalling what he had said yesterday,
mere hours ago was enough to drown her in unbearable sorrow.

‘Clodine. Get up and look at me.’
‘There’s so much I want to say to you.’
‘Give me a chance.’

She had told him she didn’t want to hear it.

Those words which hadn’t been sincere had sounded colder than anything real.

Now the things she had never told him, the words she had refused to hear even if they hadn’t been what she wanted she missed them.

Desperately.

“I was going to tell you everything today…”

If only she hadn’t refused him yesterday.

If only she had listened.

If only she had met his eyes.

If only she hadn’t been stubborn.

If only she hadn’t pushed him away.

Clodine nodded weakly,
her throat tightening under the crushing weight of regret,
as if she might suffocate at any moment.

“I’m sorry… I was wrong, Ahazan… please come back… please…”

If not.

Then take me with you.

I can’t live after losing you again.

So take me with you, Ahazan.

Half-conscious, her eyes bloodshot from bursting veins, Clodine stared endlessly at his face.

Even now that face was painfully beautiful.

His cheeks, marked with wounds.

With trembling lips, she finally leaned in and pressed them against his skin.

It was a small, fragile kiss so light it might not have been felt at all under normal circumstances.

But now.

it burned through her entire body, aching, searing, unbearable.

For a long time, she stroked his face, as though he were only asleep.

Then her tear-blurred gaze slowly lowered to his waist.

The longsword he always carried when wearing armor hung there, its blade gleaming cold and sharp.