Die Melusine - Chapter 49

“Ugh!”

With a thud, the body of the man who had almost reached the balcony rolled and fell to the ground.

“Uh…”

Something felt off. Melusine dropped the statue she had still been holding in both hands with a loud crash. She hadn’t even thrown a stone—so what had just happened?

She grabbed the balcony railing and leaned over to look down. The man who had been climbing the wall a moment ago was now sprawled on the ground with his limbs twisted unnaturally. Something glinted from his neck. What was that…?

“Kie…ron?”

A large shadow approached, and then stopped beside the fallen man. It was the person she had been searching for and worrying about all this time.

Kieron bent down, pressed two fingers under the collapsed man’s nose, and then yanked the dagger out of his neck with force.

Even though it was dark all around, the distance was close enough that she could clearly see a stream of blood gush from the man’s neck.

“Kieron…”

Melusine called out to him again. Only then did the man slowly turn around.

The night air, tainted with the scent of blood, passed between them.

Was it because they were in the mountains?

As he looked up at the woman precariously perched at the edge of the balcony, the sharp lines of his eyes and the golden light within them seemed colder than usual.

Melusine tightened her grip on the railing she was standing against.

Thud, thud. Kieron stepped over the fallen body and approached the cabin—approached her.

He scaled the cabin wall by gripping the spaces between the logs—upward, upward. Faster than she expected.

In the blink of an eye, the distance between them shrank with ease.

Thud, thud. The sound of the man’s movements and his breathing—rougher than usual—made her breath quicken in response.

At her ankles, where she still stood frozen, the shackles he had placed on her seemed to ring faintly—thump, thump.

“Melu…sine.”

Vaulting over the railing, he finally stood before her, his chest heaving deeply.

Despite the overwhelming scent of blood below, he looked immaculate, as if nothing had happened—aside from his slightly tousled bangs and the heavy breaths he let out. And the blood dripping steadily from the sword in his hand.

“Kieron! I was worried…”

“Reckless. Disobedient.”

He stepped closer with each word, backing her into the room. His voice was lower, more biting than usual, and the sharpness in his expression made Melusine instinctively retreat.

Even though she knew she had already been completely exposed to this predator—this great white shark before her—and had nowhere to run.

Step by step.

His shadow loomed over her.

At some point, her back hit the wall. Kieron placed his hands on either side of her face, trapping her within his arms.

Her throat tingled as she gulped.

She could see the tense pull in his jaw muscles. His lips—always still and unreadable—trembled slightly.

Ah. He’s angry.

She could tell now. That certainty brought a strange sense of relief to Melusine.

His emotions—whatever they were, or something like them—had finally been conveyed to her, clearly.

Back when she had fallen into the sea and injured her ankle in the shackles, and even now—this hardened expression might be the most honest reflection of his inner thoughts.

Something rustled in her chest.

“Kieron…”

She reached out and cupped his cheek. His eyes were cold, like they were holding blades, but the warmth of his skin against her palm—how hot it was.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I heard a strange sound outside and thought maybe something had happened to you, Kieron. So I…”

“I know.”

It was an unexpected reply.

He knew how she felt? Why she had acted that way?

“…You know?”

“Yes. And do you know that acting so stupidly almost got your head cut off?”

“Huh?”

At his words, her blue eyes widened again in surprise.

Right. What would a fish even know? Kieron’s question might have been more directed at himself than at her.

So what if she died? As long as she remained his alone, until the very end—what difference did it make whether she was alive or not? He could keep her, just like the taxidermied beasts lining the cabin walls.

That’s what he told himself, yet inside, it felt like a fire was raging.

The moment he saw that worm of a man crawling toward Melusine, he’d heard a sharp whistle-like sound cut across his ears.

What followed wasn’t even worthy of being called a battle—just the simple disposal of a few minnows. And yet every one of his senses had gone on high alert.

He slashed down two of them who came at him simultaneously. As soon as his line of sight cleared, Kieron didn’t hesitate—he pulled a dagger from his pocket and flung it. It struck the man climbing up the balcony right in the neck, a fatal hit.

Even after confirming the man was dead, he’d felt an urge to stab him in the back a few more times. But someone was watching—he felt the gaze and held back.

Kieron had known from the beginning that this was orchestrated by Emperor Edvard.

The sloppy trail, the absurd number of attackers despite the ambush—everything about it was amateurish. If Edvard had truly intended to take him down, he wouldn’t have sent something so easily exposed.

This wasn’t a test or a warning. It was a game. A performance, just like what the late emperor—his father—had taught Edvard. A way to reaffirm that the Grand Duke remained beneath his heel.

So Kieron had simply played his part, coldly cutting down the obstacles before him.

But then she barged in—again—at an unannounced, unpredictable moment.

“Kieron, why…”

“Quiet.”

Suddenly, the Grand Duke buried his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply, drawing in her scent into his lungs. The muscles in his arms, braced against the wall beside her, tensed further.

Every time he stood beside her—this woman who felt just like the sea—his insides turned tumultuous.

It was as if a rogue wave had surged into a body that had long forgotten how to feel tides.

“Haa!”

Kieron deliberately bit down hard on the part of her skin that carried her scent the strongest—with his molars.

Like a predator claiming its prey. If he could just devour all of her like this—maybe then, she would stop making him feel so unsettled. So disturbed.

So that he wouldn’t be consumed by whatever it was that surged up inside him, against his will.

Kieron pressed himself into her, letting all the thoughts that crowded his mind and heart slowly melt away. Soaking in her scent—utterly intoxicated by it.

***

After coming down from Mount Laphiro, the journey had been nothing but peaceful.

As the Grand Duke’s imperial procession drew closer to the capital, the weather gradually turned cooler, and the sun began to set earlier each day.

“Wow, that one’s red! And this one’s yellow?”

She had always thought trees were just green.

Melusine kept gasping in awe as they passed by trees dyed in vivid, multicolored leaves.

“Autumn foliage. You can’t see it in Triton,” Kieron replied, glancing down at the top of her head as she squirmed in front of him.

She was once again on the Grand Duke’s horse.

Every time she rode in the carriage, she would soon jump out and run over calling his name, so he had given up and started carrying her in his arms while riding. She acted like a pet, really, and though he found it amusing, it was starting to feel oddly natural.

Perhaps because it was late in the autumn season, the leaves’ colors were deeper. Around this time last year, he had been on the battlefield, so he had no memory of leisurely enjoying the autumn scenery.

Maybe it was because of this woman who made a fuss over every little difference from the Grand Duchy. The scenery he had grown tired of seeing now looked strangely unfamiliar.

Just as the castle walls finally came into view in the distance, Count Luthern rode up beside him.

“Your Grace, we’re nearing the capital. What would you like to do?”

“Keep going.”

“But the last time you did that…”

Ian shuddered as he recalled the Emperor exploding in rage, accusing his commander of testing and disregarding the imperial will.

He had hesitated to bring it up, and as expected, Kieron’s brow furrowed instantly.

“I’m not a foreign envoy arriving from some distant land. Why should I make a spectacle just to enter the capital of my own country?”

“Well, it’s because His Majesty the Emperor…”

It had been Edvard who unnecessarily changed what had once been a simple procedure—just registering with the city guard.

Now, when the guards reported the arrival to the Imperial Guard, a royal escort would be formed to personally lead high-ranking nobles into the palace. Not only did this cause days of delay, but the pomp—decorated roads, trumpets of welcome, and all—was grotesque and a waste of resources.

“Forget it. Notify only the city guards as originally done. And from here on, you take command.”

“Yes, I’ll— Wait, what?”

“I think I need to see more of the world,” Kieron said, and with that, he pulled his cloak up and fully wrapped it around the woman dozing off in his arms.

Even if she was a fish, she was still a pet.

Ignoring his subordinate, who looked up at him in baffled dismay, the Grand Duke loosened his reins and gave his horse a sharp kick to the side.

Thud, thud. The black stallion kicked up a cloud of dust as it sped off toward the capital.