The corner of Caspien's lips tugged upward slightly as he watched the woman drop her weapon with a heavy sigh. Soft grunts escaped her as she rested her head against the tree, eyes closing once more.
A shotgun, huh? Interesting. Quite bold for a duke's daughter.
He was caught off guard when her eyes suddenly opened, meeting his with an expression he found… fascinating.
"Are you just going to watch me die? I didn't ask for an audience…" she muttered. Her voice was weak, yet strangely calm.
At first, he found it strange—how her face had gone pale from what seemed like a simple wound. But then he noticed the dark veins creeping around her injured arm.
Ah. Poison.
Caspien's amusement only deepened as he met her golden eyes. It wasn't the first time he'd seen someone on the edge of death. But it was the first time he'd seen someone so close to it, yet showing neither fear nor regret.
He let out a soft chuckle and smiled. "My bad. Seeing Duke Rohane's daughter in the middle of this wilderness caught me off guard. Don't you think it's… interesting?"
She stared at him with utter boredom before sighing and closing her eyes again. "Of course. What did I expect? This goddamn world is full of impossibly good-looking people who would rather watch me die than lift a finger to help."
She murmured something under her breath, but he didn't quite catch it. His attention lingered instead on her pale, delicate face—until it wasn't so interesting anymore. The skin around her wounded arm had darkened further. The poison was spreading. At this rate, she had minutes left.
"So, my lady," he said, voice light but curious, "may I ask why I'm seeing you here on Mount Morath? You didn't join this hunt just for fun, did you?"
A soft grunt escaped her before she swallowed and forced her eyes open again. This time, they looked dull, exhausted—like they were ready to close forever.
"Oh, that…" She gave a faint chuckle. "I wasn't planning to. But it seems someone was dying to see me play this game." Her lips curled into a crooked smile. "Too bad, though. I won't be able to play for as long as they hoped."
"Ah, that makes sense," Caspien replied, his face calm and as unreadable as before. "But aren't you afraid of death, my lady? You seem rather composed for someone on the verge of dying."
She smiled—unexpected, almost genuine—and for a second Caspien was disarmed. "Afraid? It's not the first time I've died, don't worry."
She tore her gaze from him, looked up at the sky, and let out a long, heavy sigh. "I was planning to live this life well… a little longer. But it seems death followed me again."
"Is that so?" Caspien murmured.
He glanced around, noting the shift in the air. When he looked back, her eyes were already closing; her chest heaved more shallowly now, and color was draining from her face.
Tilting his head, he knelt and slipped his arms under her small waist. With a faint smirk, he lifted her into his arms and started moving.
"Well, if that's the case, I suggest you beat whoever signed you up for this hunt—and beat death—at their own game, my lady," Caspien said, his expression turning glacial. "That would be far more interesting…"
On the other side of the palace, Theron—who had been anxiously trying to figure out his liege's whereabouts—found himself in a troublesome situation. It had only been an hour since His Grace disappeared without a word, but within that exhausting hour, he'd done nothing but invent excuses for Lady Valeria, who had been persistently demanding the duke's presence.
"I'm not giving up, Theron. Not until I see His Grace walk out of his ducal suite himself!" Lady Valeria declared for what felt like the hundredth time, arms crossed firmly.
Despite his patience wearing thin, Theron offered a polite smile and replied as he always did. "His Grace is temporarily not in his chambers, Lady Valeria. I suggest you return to your assigned room and wait for his—"
"And where do you think he would go at this hour?" she cut in sharply. "As far as I remember, he only ever buries himself in work. He couldn't possibly be outside the palace. Am I wrong?"
"No, you are not mistaken, my lady," he answered with practiced courtesy. "In fact, I, too, wish he were here working. There are a number of matters he should be attending to instead of disappearing like this."
Lady Valeria paused, frowning. "He couldn't possibly be in the capital. That's impossible… His Grace has never been fond of attending such events himself."
Realization struck Theron, and inwardly he sighed. Of course he would.
"That may be the case, my lady," he said. "But His Grace has had a change of heart recently. I'm sure you've heard about last night—"
"I know," Lady Valeria snapped. "That is exactly why I rushed to attend His Majesty's birthday celebration."
Theron let out a quiet laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "Then I'm glad you understand that His Grace isn't here at the moment, my lady. He most likely went to observe the hunting competition in the capital himself."
"Oh, really? That's hard to believe—unless I see for myself that he's not inside his suite," Lady Valeria said, trying to push past him into the room.
But Theron blocked her path. "My apologies, my lady. His Grace would never permit such a thing. He has never allowed any visitors inside his room—not even once."
Lady Valeria arched her brows in irritation and pushed forward. "That's nonsense. I'm not just any visitor, Theron. I've known Caspien far longer than you have, so don't try to stop me—"
"What's this noise, Theron? You know how I despise distractions."
Caspien's voice cut through the tension. Both of them froze as he stepped out of his ducal suite, clearly having heard the commotion. At the sight of him, Lady Valeria's face brightened instantly.
Theron exhaled, relief flooding through him as if a thorn had been pulled from his side. "I was just explaining the situation to Lady Valeria, Your Grace," he said, though his eyes couldn't help but trace the bloodstains on the duke's clothes.
"In that case, I fail to understand why Lady Valeria insisted on troubling you further," Caspien replied, his voice as cold as the expression on his face.
"I only wanted to see you myself, Your Grace. It's been so long since we last spoke, and there are rumors—"
"You caused a commotion just to tell me that?" Caspien cut her off sharply. "I never knew you were this desperate, Lady Valeria. In case my assistant hasn't made it clear, I have nothing to do with you unless it concerns something important."
With that, Caspien turned his back and walked into his suite without another glance.
Theron, who had been meaning to leave, bid his farewell to Lady Valeria. He bowed and left the lady who had stoned herself after hearing the duke's words. Once inside, he almost freaked out upon seeing a sleeping lady in his liege's king-size bed.
"Is that who I think it is, Your Grace?" He asked, carefully. He watched him take off his stained blazer before wiping his hand with his handkerchief.
Confirmed. He went to the capital himself. Unexpectedly, he brought a lady and put her in his bed.
Fortunately, his liege seemed back in a good mood. "Oh, that. I happened to see her on my way when I was checking the area." He answered casually.
Really, Your Grace? From what I see, you intentionally went there not to check the hunting competition but rather to check her Lady Yulianna yourself.
Nodding, Theron acted as if he hadn't had any second thoughts. "Is that so, Your Grace. She looked a bit pale and seemed wounded, the blood in your clothes explained."
Hearing his words, Caspien's face suddenly shifted from calm to rigid. "Oh, there's something fishy happening in the hunt. Please see to it that she'll gain her strength before dinner time." He ordered, then took another blazer before glancing in Yulianna's direction. "I've got some matter to take care of," By that, he left.
Theron couldn't even grasp what he said. Dumbfounded and speechless, he could only scratch his nape in confusion. "He wasn't planning to wipe out everyone in that hunt, right? That would be unlikely for him, but also possible. Hearing him say that word gives me goosebumps, err."
Just as the hunting competition was drawing to a close—hunters returning with their prey and judges preparing to announce their decisions—the plaza, once alive with excitement and anticipation, fell into utter silence.
Every spectator stood frozen in place, mouths agape, unable to utter a single word at the sight before them.
"I hope I'm not late," Caspien said, his lips curling into a smile so breathtaking it could stop hearts. Yet no one reacted to it—not when their eyes were still fixed on the monstrous spectacle behind him.
"As compensation for the flawed system of this hunting competition," he continued, voice smooth and unhurried, "I hereby present this beast to Lady Yulianna McGregor."
Behind him, towering outside the capital's gates, lay the lifeless body of a massive, three-headed dragon.