The Grand Duchess Escape

Late into the night, Calix was alone in his office.

His mind was rattling and he couldn’t seem to drift off to sleep. A part of him had reasoned that working would take his mind off the uncomfortable thoughts that were denying him sleep.

However, he was not one to leave any work unfinished, so his desk was clean. Even after he dug out the papers he’d already perfected and went over them several times, the night showed no sign of passing.

“Damn it.”

Finally, Calix gave up, he pushed the chair away and rose to his feet.

He left his office and strode down the long hallway. The lights, dimmed for the night, provided just the slightest bit of brightness. The night was dead quiet at the Grand Duchy Castle, which was usually very far from noisy.

His shadow flickered across the walls as he moved forward.

“My sister told me not to tell anyone about it.”

The child’s words echoed in his ears. Even when trying not to think about it, it was for naught, and the silence around him didn’t help, but it only made her voice louder and clearer.

“It looked very painful…”

No one in this castle would dare to lay a hand on Asella’s body.

The maids were no exception. Calix had received reports from Margo Romaine that she was reluctant to let the maids tend to her, not even when she bathed. 

She didn’t really have a wide range of activities, and she was pretty much always staying in her room, so it was unlikely she was doing anything reckless and got hurt.

So it was obvious who the culprit responsible for her bruises was.

‘She said she had a bruise.’

Suddenly, Calix changed direction and began to walk. His steps carried a hint of impatience as he strode briskly along the hallway.

“Your Excellency, you have arrived.”

He reached the hallway where his wife’s chambers were located in a flash, and the knights who spotted him bowed to him.

“Her Highness has retired to bed early.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

The knights, familiar with the Grand Duke’s temper, opened the door without delay. After all, was there anywhere in the grand duchy castle that their master could not enter? There were no exceptions, even if it was the Grand Duchess’ bedroom.

As soon as the heavy doors swung open softly and soundlessly, Calix stepped inside. It was his wife’s chamber, the one he had returned to after only a short single day, despite his earlier resolve to never return.

He walked without hesitation. He passed quickly through the neat and tidy drawing room, and before he knew it, he was at the doorway to the bedroom.

That’s when his confident stride suddenly stopped.

For some reason, he couldn’t enter easily. Somehow, it felt like he shouldn’t take another step recklessly.

The bedroom was so quiet he could almost hear his own breathing– and with all the windows closed and curtains carefully drawn, was very dark unlike yesterday when the moonlight was shining. The only distraction to the darkness was a small lamp, casting a faint glow.

If it wasn’t for the mountain of blankets rising slightly atop the large bed, he could have sworn there was no one there.

After what seemed like an eternity of standing, Calix finally moved. His steps were slowly guided by the faint light as he made his way to the bed’s headboard.

“…”

There was a reason why Calix had sought out her room at this time of night.

He hesitated for only a moment before acting, but the hesitation was short-lived– Then he slightly lifted the loose cuffs of her long nightgown, which almost covered her hands.

At the same time, a brief flicker of bewilderment crossed his otherwise expressionless face.

“…Damn it! Damn it!”

Calix’s disturbed face twitched slightly as he uttered a low cuss

Dark red bruises were evident on her white wrists. Although he only checked one wrist, he didn’t even have to look at the other.

His gaze slid down to his hand this time. The skin there was smooth, unscarred, and hardly believable to belong to a man who wielded a sword. But Calix knew what those hands had done and what they were capable of.

Those hands were stained with the blood of countless lives. Often, when he looked down at them, he found them hideous and disgusting to the point of making him nauseous.

With those very hands, he threatened and harmed his wife.

For that one trivial reason, for rejecting their first night.

Calix’s gaze fell to Asella’s wrist again. It was so thin and fragile that it looked like it might break at the slightest pressure. The image of her writhing in his grasp, letting out a faint moan, flashed through his mind.

‘To be in such a state…’ 

Calix cleared his throat. He clenched his hand so hard to the point that his knuckles turned white from the force he’d applied.

He didn’t want to believe it, but it was true: He was blinded by rage, and he had hurt her in her frightened state. He even verbally abused her as she struggled to speak and only sobbed. 

He shouldn’t have done that to his wife, who couldn’t even defy him with status, strength, or anything else. How could he be this despicable and shameless?

He was disgusted with himself, loathed himself, and he couldn’t stand it.

I enjoyed working on this chapter