Dark Dad’s Rebirth - Chapter 14: Madness (2)

At that, Aria exhaled a faint sigh, laced with fatigue.

And then—

The blade plunged into Leria’s chest without a moment of hesitation.

A sickening squelch echoed through the room as the blade pierced flesh, followed by a wet splatter of blood staining the floor. Leria let out a final, strangled scream before going completely silent.

“…!”

“Riri, if this upset you…”

Aria stared, unblinking, as her thoughts ground to a halt.

How could he do this?

Not even half a day ago, Caelius had been engaging Leria in what could have been mistaken for warm, fatherly conversation.

Now, that same man had driven a sword through her without a hint of remorse.

“…its worth no longer matters to me.”

Caelius withdrew the sword in one clean motion. Blood sprayed out, painting the floor and walls with red as Leria’s lifeless body slumped to the ground.

The dark room felt smaller, suffocating under the weight of what had just transpired. The crimson splatter stood out sharply against the shadows, drawing Aria’s eyes to the scene as if she couldn’t look away.

Her head swam, her thoughts spiraling as she struggled to process it all.

‘Is this a dream?’

She blinked repeatedly, trying to convince herself that it wasn’t real.

But it was.

And Caelius’s apology—that struck her harder than Leria’s death.

Not in the past, and certainly not in the present, had Caelius ever bowed his head to her, let alone uttered such words.

‘Am I still hallucinating?’

She clutched at the fragments of her shattered reasoning. No, this was real. The blood on the floor, the lifeless body—it was all real.

‘Is Leria truly dead?’

Even with her body crumpled at Caelius’s feet, part of Aria couldn’t fully believe it.

Perhaps because it had happened so quickly, or perhaps because a part of her had always known that this was inevitable.

Leria and Aria had never been able to coexist.

They both carried the blood of the royal family, yet only one could ascend the throne.

For now, their rivalry had been reduced to Leria’s petty remarks and snide glances. But if the fight for power had escalated further, their blades would have inevitably clashed.

Aria’s gaze fell upon Leria’s still form, her golden hair sprawled across the bloodied floor. She frowned slightly.

Even now, with the body cold and lifeless, Aria felt no revulsion, no pang of horror.

There was only a faint sense of pity.

She pitied the girl who, until a month ago, had known nothing of these deadly power struggles, who had been thrust into this ruthless world as nothing more than a pawn.

But that pity didn’t last long.

Aria knew how ordinary children her age might have screamed or cried, trembling in terror at such a gruesome sight. She wondered briefly if this reaction—or lack thereof—was something she’d inherited from Caelius.

Her expression remained eerily calm, even as she stared at the blood-soaked floor and Leria’s lifeless body.

In truth, a part of her felt relief.

Not because she hated Leria. Not because of jealousy.

But because, for the first time, the path forward no longer seemed so impossibly tangled.

If Caelius hadn’t taken action, Aria would have had to kill Leria herself someday to survive. As members of the royal family, both she and Leria were destined to wield swords for the throne, whether they wanted to or not. There was no option of coexistence; the crown demanded only one heir.

The thought brought a strange sense of relief—relief that the matter had been resolved without Aria dirtying her hands, without her following in the footsteps of Caelius and Azekrysis, locked in a deadly struggle.

But the relief was short-lived.

Caelius’s eyes, now turning toward her, were unsettling.

He stood there, gripping the blood-soaked sword, and something about the way his gaze lingered on her sent a chill down Aria’s spine.

No matter how much time passed, no matter how many times they crossed paths, Caelius remained an enigma—impossible to pin down, impossible to predict.

“Riri.”

The low, gravelly timbre of his voice filled the room, familiar yet somehow different. It felt softer, almost gentle. Was she imagining it?

Aria cautiously met his gaze.

Then he smiled.

It was a chilling, unnatural smile, so out of place in the room still thick with death that it only heightened her fear.

“I told you once before, didn’t I?”

His words hung in the air, cryptic.

Aria’s brows furrowed in confusion as she tried to recall what he was referring to.

Caelius’s smirk deepened as if he found her cluelessness amusing.

“Riri, I said I’d cut down any child who wasn’t you. Without hesitation.”

Her heart plummeted.

He hadn’t said that—at least, not in the time she could remember.

Did that mean…?

Her eyes widened in shock.

Could he be recalling the past?

Even as she tried to temper her emotions, knowing that hope often led to bitter disappointment, a part of her heart foolishly swelled at the thought.

“It’s strange,” Caelius mused, tilting his head. “I don’t remember when I said it, but I’m certain I did.”

His cold, piercing gaze dropped back to Leria’s lifeless body, lying discarded like an insect crushed underfoot.

And just as casually, he turned his attention back to Aria.

His jet-black eyes gleamed in the dim light, a haunting brilliance that sent a shiver through her.

In that moment, Aria realized something:

‘He hasn’t fully remembered.’

But he was close—too close.

The way he spoke, as if he were brushing against forgotten fragments of the past, made her feel like it was only a matter of time before everything came flooding back to him.

‘And if he remembers everything… then what will happen to me?’

She didn’t want to think about it, but the thought crept in nonetheless.

If his love, false or real, was erased by the memory of how their story ended…

If the Caelius who had once pointed a sword at her returned…

The memory of that cold, murderous gaze flashed in her mind. A chill ran down her spine, her arms prickling with goosebumps as her breathing quickened.

“There’s nothing left to stand in our way now.”

Caelius’s words pulled her back to the present. His presence, always intimidating, felt especially suffocating today.

Even though the killing intent radiating from him wasn’t directed at her, the sheer weight of it felt like a noose tightening around her neck.

“So, my dear daughter…”

“…”

“Say you love me again.”

His lips curled into a mocking smile, sharp and cruel, as if he were taunting her.

Aria’s lips remained sealed, trembling slightly as her fists clenched tightly in her lap.

She felt like a terrified rabbit cornered by a predator, her body trembling uncontrollably.

She wanted to say it.

To tell him she loved him, to pour out the feelings she kept locked away.

But she couldn’t.

Because she knew—knew that if she admitted it now, she would never escape him.

“Say it.”

His voice was low and commanding, pressing down on her like a heavyweight.

Caelius pressed her again, his voice steady but the weight of his words sharp as a blade. The tension between them was unbearable, like a taut string stretched to its limit, ready to snap.

The air hung heavy as Aria instinctively took a step back, trying to distance herself.

“I… I don’t want to,” she stammered, her voice trembling but her resolve firm.

Her small head of golden hair shook in defiance, her refusal clear.

“I already told you—I don’t want this anymore.”

Her voice quivered with fear, but beneath the trembling was an unyielding determination to push him away.

“I want… I want to be with someone else.”

Her words barely escaped her lips, heavy with hesitation and dread.

Caelius, who had been watching her intently, cut her off mid-thought, his tone disturbingly calm.

“With another man, you mean?”

“…”

Aria didn’t answer, but the slight nod of her head was all he needed.

Her heart pounded in her chest, the memory of his merciless blade still fresh. She didn’t know when he might turn it on her, especially if the version of him she feared from the past resurfaced.

“Who said you could?”

His words weren’t loud, but their sharpness was impossible to ignore.

“I have no intention of letting you go.”

“I told you,” Aria shot back, her voice firmer this time.

“I want to live an ordinary life. Like other women… I want to be loved.”

Her voice wavered toward the end, laden with years of bottled-up sorrow.

The room fell silent, and for a moment, Caelius seemed to hesitate. But then, his next words cut through the silence like a blade.

“Fine, Riri. I misspoke.”

Aria froze, her lips parting slightly in disbelief.

Misspoke? What was he saying?

Before she could fully process his words, Caelius spoke again, his voice unwavering.

“Once, I told you I didn’t love you.”

Aria’s golden eyes widened, brimming with suspicion and unease as they locked onto him. What was he trying to say?

Caelius paused, his dark gaze steady and impenetrable.

“I was wrong.”

The declaration sent an icy shiver down Aria’s spine. She bit down hard on her lower lip, her anxiety mounting with every passing second.

“Riri,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost confessional.

“Every time I see you lingering around me, I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. I hate seeing you cry. I want to fill your hands with power, so absolute that no one could ever touch you. I want to see that mouth of yours taste nothing but the best this world has to offer.”

Caelius’s voice softened, his tone intimate and raw in a way that made Aria’s skin crawl.

“If this is what love feels like…”

He trailed off, his words hanging in the air like a storm about to break.

Aria’s face turned pale, her heart pounding erratically as though it might burst. She knew what Caelius was about to say, could predict the words before they left his lips.

But this time, there was no thrill, no sense of excitement.

Only a crushing void and a deep, visceral rejection overwhelmed her.

‘No. No, you can’t love me.’

You don’t even know how to love. You’ll deceive me again with that false promise of love, only to abandon me once more. Just like you did before.

If you’re going to cast me aside, why can’t you do it the way you used to? Why are you pretending to be someone you’re not?

Why are you humiliating me all over again, now that I’ve been discarded and left in ruins?

Her thoughts spiraled, trying to reject what she already knew was coming.

And then, Caelius’s selfish confession cut through her like a blade:

“I love you.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

The words that should have been beautiful, that should have healed, instead made her expression contort.

This wasn’t the future she had imagined.

This wasn’t the relationship she had yearned for.

This wasn’t the love she had wanted.

“I love you, Aria,” Caelius said again, his voice deliberate, as if hammering the sentiment into existence.

At last, Aria dropped her gaze.

These were the words she had longed to hear. Words that had haunted her for so long.

Her heart betrayed her, thundering in her chest at his declaration, but inside, her soul felt cold.

This was wrong.

Even his confession felt inherently “Caelius-like.” His tone brimmed with arrogance, his delivery unabashedly bold, his pride still firmly intact. Yet the faint quiver at the edge of his voice betrayed the emotion he struggled to keep contained.

He was unfamiliar, unrecognizable in this moment.

For all the time they had spent together, Aria had never known this Caelius.

His tone, tinged with poorly disguised vulnerability, unsettled her further. Beneath his words, she could sense the weight of his affection. But for her, the tumult of emotions was too much to bear:

Hurt and resentment clashed with the lingering embers of love and yearning.

And that persistent, gnawing hunger for affection—a wound that had never healed.

If only he had said these words sooner.

Before the hallucinogens.

Before he brought Leria into their lives.