You, My Devil - Chapter 22

But…

Although the number of soldiers was still unclear due to the haze, Heina felt afraid. Before they had escaped the desert, Yuri had single-handedly fought off the royal guards of Nike like a demon. Even if he wasn’t capable of taking on a hundred men by himself, he could easily behead dozens.

What should I do?

Behind her, Yuri pulled the reins tightly, maintaining the horse’s pace without slowing down.

If Arzen was among those soldiers and spotted her riding on the horse with Yuri, what would happen?

I can’t let Arzen get confused because of me.

If Arzen hesitated to attack out of concern for her safety, or if Yuri used her as a hostage to commit some atrocity, she could unintentionally become a burden. The thought made Heina bite her lip hard.

“Let me down.”

Heina grabbed Yuri’s arm, which was holding the reins. He didn’t so much as flinch, continuing to gallop forward as if he hadn’t heard her.

“I said, let me down!”

When she struck his arm with her fist, his icy voice cut through the wind.

“If you don’t want to die, shut up, Heina. Looks like you’ve grown reckless now that you’re back in your homeland.”

“Don’t you see the soldiers coming to kill you? I’d rather take a blade alone and die with some honor than stay with you and die like this! So stop the horse!”

Suddenly, Yuri pulled the reins sharply, causing the horse to slow down. Heina steeled her nerves, determined not to miss this opportunity. Once the horse slowed a bit more, she planned to push his arm away and leap off. She had already accepted the possibility of breaking her legs.

As Heina glanced down at the dizzying height, calculating when to jump, it happened.

Thud.

Yuri deliberately let go of the reins. His arms, which had been holding her securely, dropped to his sides, causing their bodies to jolt violently atop the saddle.

“What… what are you doing? Grab the reins!”

The horse snorted and began to gallop faster. Jumping off in this situation would be nothing short of suicide. Panicked, Heina clutched at the horse’s mane, while Yuri smiled behind her, the corners of his lips curling upward.

“You grab them. I need to keep an eye on you in case you try anything stupid again.”

His sharp gray eyes gleamed as if he had seen right through her plan.

“You… insane…!”

If the horse went completely out of control and they lost their balance, both of them would fall to their deaths—it was all too obvious. Trembling, Heina bit her lip and stretched her shaking hands toward the reins. She barely managed to grab hold of them as they swung wildly.

“Pull harder. My horse doesn’t listen to orders from someone weaker than itself,” Yuri said mockingly.

As if mocking her even further, the horse surged forward with renewed speed. The sudden acceleration almost made her lose her grip. Startled, Heina clung tightly to the reins and screamed.

“It’s too fast!”

“Looks like Atlas is testing you,” Yuri chuckled, leaning his body against hers as he laughed. Through the sandstorm, a group of soldiers began to emerge faintly. The horse carrying both Yuri and Heina was galloping straight toward them.

“Pull harder, Heina. If you don’t give it your all, you’ll fall,” he whispered in her ear.

Gritting her teeth, Heina clutched the reins tightly, determined not to fall off the horse. She lowered her body, shifting her weight forward as much as possible. Behind her, Yuri pressed himself close to her, wrapping one arm around her slim waist and laughing like a madman.

“You lunatic!”

Heina, seething with anger, clenched the leather reins tightly with her delicate hands. At this point, she didn’t care what happened. Ever since Constance had lost the war against Nike, she had known her life would end one day.

As a royal of a fallen nation, her fate had always teetered on the edge, like a flickering lamp flame in the wind. Yuri constantly threatened to kill her and her family, and during his coming-of-age ceremony, she had nearly been sacrificed at the altar by his blade.

‘Fine… I’ll take you to hell with me!’

If the soldiers ahead were part of the resistance fighting for Constance’s independence, she planned to charge straight into them, giving them the chance to cut Yuri’s throat. Even if they weren’t, it didn’t matter. She was ready to join anyone who sought his death. She wouldn’t avoid swords or arrows.

The cool air of her homeland seemed to ignite a fire in her blood. The horse galloped faster, but Heina had no intention of slowing down. Instead, she dug her heel into the black horse’s side with all her strength.

“Hya! Go!!”

“Hahaha!”

Yuri’s laughter scattered into the wind. His laugh was wild, blending with the rushing sound of the air.

“Well done, Heina,” he whispered sweetly into her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder. Her golden hair billowed in the wind, obscuring his vision. Smiling, he closed his eyes.

Heina gritted her teeth. She had received horseback riding lessons back in Constance. She had even gone on picnics with Arzen, racing their horses. But those moments had been nothing more than refined, graceful outings. She had once ridden behind Arzen, leaning her face against his broad back and laughing with joy. Never had she been forced to hold the reins herself with a madman clinging to her back.

And now, Yuri’s black horse was running at a terrifying speed. At this rate, one wrong move could send her flying off the saddle, but Heina didn’t care. Her burning resolve to bring Yuri to the resistance soldiers spurred her forward. She bit down on the inside of her cheek until it bled.

Just a little more… a little further…

Now, she could clearly see about thirty men on horseback. As they noticed Heina and Yuri charging toward them, they stopped their horses in a line.

A man with fiery red hair stood out, his hair billowing in the wind. Soldiers clad in armor dismounted one by one, weapons in hand.

Disappointment spread across Heina’s face like a dark shadow. They weren’t Constance’s resistance fighters.

Their black hair, bronze skin, and the unmistakable crest of the Nike royal family engraved on their armor dashed her hopes. When she recognized a few familiar faces among them, her expression crumbled further.

They were Yuri’s personal guards—the men who had left Nike with him.

“Lord Yuri! You’re safe?!”

Yuri’s black horse came to an abrupt halt, its breath ragged. Yuri lifted his face from Heina’s shoulder. Seeing her biting her lip hard enough to draw blood in frustration, he began to laugh, his shoulders shaking with amusement.

“Hahaha… Heina, that was truly enjoyable. It’s been such a long time since I’ve experienced such an exhilarating ride.”

“You… you knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?”

“That they wouldn’t attack you… that they were your soldiers.”

Heina whipped her head around to glare at him, her voice trembling faintly at the edges. Yuri grinned, showing his teeth.

“I figured the odds were fifty-fifty. Either they were here to kill me or they were here to obey me. Either way, the result wouldn’t have changed. No matter what happened, I planned to reach the old royal palace of Constance with you in tow by the end of the day. If anyone got in my way, I would’ve killed them all. Looks like they saved me the trouble.”

A flicker of despair crossed Heina’s green eyes. Yuri leaned closer to her, tilting his face as if to savor her reaction. The soldiers, still kneeling on the ground and looking up at Yuri on horseback, all bowed their heads even lower.

“Get your filthy face away from me.”

“Are you angry? Why?”

Yuri’s voice dropped slightly, his tone teasing as if her anger amused him to no end.

“What’s with that face? Don’t tell me you were hoping Constance’s rebels would show up? Could it be that even the foolish Princess Heina has fallen for the laughable fantasies of those ignorant, delusional slaves?”

“Don’t you dare insult the people of Constance!”

Heina raised her arm to slap him, but Yuri caught her wrist effortlessly. He gripped her trembling wrist tightly while wrapping his other arm around her waist, pulling her close. Leaning into her ear, he whispered with a low, intimate voice.

“Princess Heina, I suggest you stop provoking me like an angry little cat.”

“Do you think I’m afraid of dying by your hands now?” she shot back coldly.

Yuri’s lips curled into a crooked smile.

“Then how about this? How would you feel about showing my soldiers a little kiss between us?”

Heina’s face hardened instantly, and Yuri burst into laughter, baring his teeth like a predator enjoying his prey’s discomfort.

“Oh? Does that scare you?”

“You devil…”

“If you know that, then behave yourself.”

When Heina turned her face away in defiance, Yuri gracefully leapt off the horse. The soldiers, who had been kneeling on one knee, immediately bowed their heads even lower as he landed.

“Bring me a spare horse.”

One of the soldiers looked up with a puzzled expression.

“Why? Don’t you have one?”

“No, that’s not it, Lord Yuri. It’s just that your horse—”

“Atlas seems to have found a new owner,” Yuri said with a smirk.

A flicker of shock crossed the faces of the Nike guards, but none of them dared to react outwardly. Atlas, Yuri’s black horse, was a gift from the Emperor of Nike when Yuri had turned twelve. It had been by his side for nearly a decade, from its days as a young foal to the present.

“From this moment forward, Atlas belongs to the slave Heina,” Yuri declared.

Though the Nike soldiers exchanged glances, none dared to speak a word of protest.

“Let’s go, my soldiers! Tonight, we shall hold a feast in the royal palace of Constance. Eat and drink to your heart’s content!”

Yuri’s red hair swayed as he strode confidently forward. Behind him, Heina watched his retreating figure with a mixture of fury and despair. A single tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped her face with her dirtied hands, her palms scraped raw from gripping the reins so tightly.

She had failed to kill him. But at long last, she had escaped the hell of Nike and returned to Constance.

Now that I’m back… there has to be something I can do. There must be… and I will do it.

Heina clenched the reins tightly in her calloused hands, the dirt under her fingernails turning black.

The sky was tinged with red as the sun began to set. The warm light of Constance’s sun gently painted the rooftops of its quaint houses in soft, golden hues.

* * *

By the time Yuri’s party rode into Lucina, the capital of Constance, after leaving Bathus, the sun had already set, and the glittering stars shone high in the night sky. Finally, the pointed spires of the Constance royal palace appeared before Heina’s eyes.

It had taken over a year to return to this place. As the familiar sight of the palace where she had been born and raised came into view, a wave of overwhelming emotion swept over Heina—only to be followed by crushing despair. The palace no longer belonged to her or to the royal family of Constance.

“Open the gates! His Highness Prince Yuri has arrived!!”

Late at night, the gates of Constance’s former royal palace swung wide open. Since the fall of Constance—when the emperor, empress, and their only princess had been taken as hostages to Nike—the once-grand palace had been repurposed as temporary housing for those relocated from Nike as part of a deliberate policy. Most of the inhabitants were generals who had distinguished themselves during the war alongside Emperor Nike.

“You’ve arrived, Your Highness Yuri!”

Yuri had always been at the forefront of Nike’s wars. Even among Nike’s soldiers, who were often indifferent to the imperial family, Yuri was the most trusted of the emperor’s four sons. This trust was rooted in a bond formed through shared life-and-death struggles on the battlefield—something only those who had fought in war could truly understand.

In Nike, a nation built on military power, commanding the loyalty of the army was an unparalleled form of political strength. Yuri wielded this power, making him a force to be reckoned with.

This was precisely what Fessis, the sickly prince who had never been able to set foot on a battlefield, lacked. While Fessis excelled at using court officials for political maneuvering within the imperial palace, the soldiers’ loyalty was firmly with Yuri.

“Is it true that you were attacked on your way here? Who would dare commit such an atrocity against you, Lord Yuri?”

For the soldiers stationed in Constance for the past year, cut off from the current state of affairs in Nike’s palace, the news brought by Yuri’s party was nothing short of shocking. The imperial guards of Nike had pursued Yuri and attacked him on his way to Constance.

Although the identity of the mastermind remained unknown, one thing was clear: the culprit was a member of the imperial family—one of Yuri’s own blood relatives.

“There’s no need to make a fuss. It seems everyone’s itching for action since there’s no war outside the country. There’s no need for all of Nike to know about our family squabbles,” Yuri said casually.

Standing at the gates, he took a goblet offered to him and downed his first sip of wine in the conquered territory. The grapes of Constance produced a sweetness incomparable to anything from water-starved Nike.

“That may be so, but you are not only a prince of Nike but also a soldier who has risked his life for the empire on the battlefield for the past five years. To dispatch you to a colony the moment your coming-of-age ceremony was over, and now this attack? Such treatment of a general who has achieved great feats is beyond outrageous.”

A general with a long scar across his face spoke with trembling eyes, clenching his fists tightly as he looked at Yuri.

At fifteen, Yuri had gone to war for the first time, wielding a sword larger than himself. Sir Linus, the scarred general, knew better than anyone how many wounds Yuri had suffered in those wars and how often he had teetered on the brink of death.

After handing his empty goblet to a soldier beside him, Yuri began to walk slowly toward the general, who was visibly seething with righteous anger on his behalf.

“Sir Linus.”

“Yes, Lord Yuri,” Linus replied, bowing so deeply to the much younger Yuri that his head nearly touched the ground.