The Kidnapped Prince is Mine Now - Chapter 49

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 49
I stared intently at Lutz’s face, waiting for his answer—desperately hoping the conclusion to what I’d just heard would be anything but this.
Yet Lutz kept his head bowed, his gaze deliberately avoiding mine.
“…What evidence?”
It was Wolfgang who broke the suffocating silence that had settled over the Record Room.
“Precisely what materials led you to such a conclusion?”
I glanced at Wolfgang’s face, now stripped of all levity, then at the Holy Knights whose expressions had turned bewildered.
Lutz’s lips trembled as he gathered several sheets of parchment and answered.
“There exists a record of a failed attempt to receive Zaikas’s blessing.”
“A failed attempt?”
“Yes—a case where all three conditions I mentioned were not satisfied.”
“Tell me.”
At Wolfgang’s command, Lutz swallowed hard. What followed was the tale of the 13th Generation Staufen.
“…At that time, the Duke of Staufen stood in the midst of the Sand Battlefield facing defeat, cradling his wife’s corpse, refusing to evade the hail of arrows descending upon him.”
A battlefield. The body of one he loved. And his own death.
On the surface, it aligned perfectly with the conditions for awakening I’d heard described earlier.
And yet.
“But Zaikas’s blessing never descended. The Duke of Staufen, pierced by dozens of arrows, never awakened.”
Why?
“Just before his death, he confessed to his son who had rushed to his side—the woman he had loved was not, in fact, the boy’s mother.”
“…”
The 13th Generation Staufen had kept a young mistress, barely more than a girl. The 14th Generation Staufen Margrave, who barely survived, ordered that his father’s transgression be recorded in full, concealed from no one.
“Ha.”
It was a sordid melodrama. Why did I have to sit here and listen to such drivel?
As Lutz droned on about the squalid affairs of nobility, I lifted my gaze. Above me stretched the ceiling of the Record Room, papered in deep blue.
Beyond that ceiling dwelt divinity.
Pelmira, who had brought me to this place.
Zaikas, the distant ancestor of Rotar Eisenrit.
It was strange—whenever anything touched upon the divine, I felt this crushing despair.
“After that, the 14th Generation Duke of Staufen… Ah, Your Highness?”
I rose from my seat without waiting for Lutz to finish.
I turned and moved toward the door of the Record Room, then stopped and spoke.
“Keep this story between us.”
“…Yes? But Your Highness—”
“Not a word to anyone. If rumors spread, it’ll cost you your head.”
“…!”
I left the startled Holy Knights behind and opened the Record Room door.
I walked straight out into the long corridor. I wasn’t heading anywhere in particular—I simply needed to walk.
My mind was empty. Whenever a thought tried to surface, I pushed it away, maintaining that void.
This was not the time to think. I did not want to think.
Then I need to make a choice.
Behind me, I heard the steady rhythm of footsteps. I ignored them and kept walking, but the sound only quickened.
“Are you certain about this?”
Now he was speaking to me.
If it had been any of the other Holy Knights, they wouldn’t have dared approach me in this state.
Without answering, I glanced to the side. Wolfgang Lichtenbrun was now walking beside me.
“What will you do now?”
He asked again. There was no humor in his voice, yet neither anger nor sorrow colored his expression.
Wolfgang simply observed my face with calm eyes, studying it carefully.
What was he hoping to find? I ignored his question once more.
With his long legs, Wolfgang maintained a modest stride beside me. When we reached a corner, we turned together; when we hit a dead end, we retraced our steps together.
Maintaining this silence, when I stumbled over the hem of my skirt, he caught me with one arm and spoke.
“Saint. Forgive my presumption, but…”
Wolfgang’s hand touched my shoulder. Yet it was only for a moment.
“If I were the Second Prince…”
He gently straightened my tilted form and withdrew his hand.
Then he spoke. His voice was remarkably plain.
“I believe I would oppose the choice you are now considering, even unto death.”
“…”
What choice am I deliberating? I’m not thinking about anything.
I should have mocked him for that, but different words spilled from my lips instead.
“Not as a figure of speech—literally dead.”
“Yes.”
“Without Zaikas’s blessing, everyone dies.”
“That is precisely what I meant.”
His reply was irritatingly composed. I glared at Wolfgang’s face, then pointlessly brushed at my shoulder where his hand had touched. Knowing full well how childish it was.
And I warned him.
“Don’t follow me anymore. You’re not a dog.”
I left him standing there motionless and continued walking.
Until the sun in the sky tilted toward the west.
Until the sunset faded and darkness fell.
Only when bright lanterns illuminated every corner of the castle did I turn my steps toward my bedroom. The light there, I could extinguish myself.
“Elise.”
I had forgotten. That Rotar would be waiting for me.
The moment I entered my bedroom, Rotar Eisenrit sprang to his feet. He too had only recently returned and was in the midst of changing his clothes.
“You’ve only just arrived? Have you eaten?”
At least that was fortunate. I hadn’t returned so late as to raise suspicion.
I approached him like an eager puppy as he poured out his questions, and rested my cheek against his hand. Feeling the warmth spread across my skin, I opened my mouth slowly, deliberately.
“Yes. I took a walk. I ate something light for dinner.”
“Light?”
Rotar’s brow furrowed with displeasure, yet it felt entirely natural when he wrapped one arm around my back and drew me into his embrace.
He carried me to the bed, then pulled the bell cord. When a servant appeared, he requested some light refreshments before studying my face carefully and speaking.
“Please take care of yourself even when I’m not here. You were managing fine before, weren’t you?”
That was true. I let out a soft laugh and nodded.
Sensing that if I held his gaze any longer, something troublesome might happen, I feigned petulance and buried my face against his chest.
“What did Cisharang have to say?”
I needed to change the subject. Fortunately, Rotar obliged, gently stroking my hair as he spoke.
“We discussed political matters. It seems there are quite a few radicals within Lumektia. For now, we’ve agreed to keep our association confidential from the public, but…”
His low voice, speaking methodically, was pleasant to hear.
He seemed to distinguish precisely between what I should know and what I needn’t bother with.
I realized I was doing something similar. Or perhaps I was simply avoiding something.
“…So the secret passage in the Snowy Mountains will be needed when…”
…
“Elise?”
Why was this happening?
I had merely been listening in silence when Rotar grasped my chin and tilted my face upward.
Our eyes met. The moment I saw his expression—a mixture of confusion and concern—I nearly blurted something out.
‘Rotar. I have to die for you to awaken.’
No. Not now.
I sat up abruptly.
With my upper body raised, I unfastened the buttons of my dress and slipped the straps from my shoulders.
“…Elise?”
His voice carried bewilderment, and I felt laughter threatening to escape.
Yes, this was better. For him, for me—to melt away reason entirely.
Clad only in a thin chemise, I pulled his hand toward me, pressing his large palm against my chest. The hardened peaks beneath the fabric rubbed against his skin with only cloth between us.
…
All expression vanished from Rotar’s face.
Using his hand, I caressed my own soft skin and whispered.
“I want to. Right now.”
The moment the words left my lips, my vision inverted. Rotar, gripping my shoulders, pulled the chemise up without hesitation.
“Elise. You provoked this.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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