92. Regret It, Your Grace
The carriage, escorted by knights, arrived at an inn on the outskirts of the city. Johannes had deliberately avoided returning to the Imperial Guest Palace, knowing that word of Roselia’s whereabouts would quickly reach the Duke’s spies.
Once they secured the largest room in the inn, Johannes made sure Roselia was seated at the table and brought her a steaming cup of tea.
“Are you feeling a little calmer now?”
Roselia, who had been sitting motionless like a statue, finally looked up. She accepted the tea, the warmth of the cup seeping into her hands.
“Thank you…”
Her voice was faint, her expression vacant, making Johannes regard her with evident concern.
“Roselia,” he began carefully, “as I’ve told you before, if there’s ever anything you need or want, don’t hesitate to ask me.”
Roselia stared down at the tea, her gaze distant, before speaking in a low voice.
“Marquess.”
“Yes?”
“The proposal you mentioned before… is it still valid?”
Johannes tilted his head, clearly puzzled by her question.
Roselia finally looked up, her expression resolute.
“The one where you offered to take me to Raphelios. Does it still stand?”
Johannes’s face shifted to one of surprise and apprehension.
“Are you serious?”
Images of Klaus flashed in Roselia’s mind, but she pushed them away and closed her eyes tightly before replying firmly, “Yes. And as soon as possible.”
Though relieved to hear Klaus had returned alive, Roselia couldn’t shake the gnawing sense of dread.
No matter how much she tried to distance herself from the original storyline, events continued to unfold as if pushing her back toward it. The threads of fate seemed determined to realign.
Her belief that Klaus would choose her over the Crown Princess had been a fleeting arrogance that now left her feeling deeply wounded.
The closer she grew to him, the more the looming shadows of tragedy seemed to gather around them.
She had to admit it—she couldn’t change the original story, nor could she change him.
If she couldn’t alter their fates, then perhaps the best course was to part ways, to preserve what little peace remained for both their futures.
Roselia exhaled shakily, her emotions swirling as she shut her eyes once more.
Watching her intently, Johannes hesitated before speaking.
“I had planned to leave for Raphelios tomorrow anyway. If you’re certain, we can leave straight from here.”
He studied her carefully, then added cautiously, “But… are you sure this is what you want?”
Opening her eyes, Roselia fixed him with a determined gaze.
“Yes. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Her resolute tone silenced any further questions.
Johannes nodded slowly, acknowledging her decision.
“Very well. Let’s rest here for tonight and set off at first light.”
* * *
The carriage sped through the night as Klaus pushed his horse to its limits, his jaw clenched and his mind racing.
The Grand Duke’s words echoed in his head, taunting him:
‘One step too late, Your Grace. Or perhaps ten.’
The mention of Roselia—no, Antonio—crossing into Raphelios sent a surge of dread through his chest.
‘How could she leave without a word?’ he thought bitterly, gripping the reins so tightly his knuckles turned white.
He refused to entertain the idea that she had left willingly. It had to be coercion, manipulation—anything but her choice.
* * *
Back at the Grand Duke’s estate, Rubelio leaned back in his chair, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.
“Did you see that, my dear? The great Duke Valtazar, storming off like a lovesick fool.”
The Grand Duchess, seated nearby, raised an elegant brow. “Do you truly believe he’ll let this go?”
Rubelio chuckled darkly. “Let it go? Not likely. But whether he acts or fails, the chaos will work in our favor.”
She sighed, sipping her wine. “And the girl?”
Rubelio waved a hand dismissively. “She’s no longer my concern. Raphelios will deal with her—or use her. Either way, she’s out of my hands. Valtazar, however… he’ll be preoccupied chasing ghosts while I move forward.”
The Grand Duchess looked unconvinced but said nothing more, her gaze drifting to the window where the shadows of their schemes stretched far and wide.
* * *
The carriage sped through the night as Klaus pushed his horse to its limits, his jaw clenched and his mind racing.
The Grand Duke’s words echoed in his head, taunting him:
‘One step too late, Your Grace. Or perhaps ten.’
The mention of Roselia—no, Antonio—crossing into Raphelios sent a surge of dread through his chest.
‘How could she leave without a word?’ he thought bitterly, gripping the reins so tightly his knuckles turned white.
He refused to entertain the idea that she had left willingly. It had to be coercion, manipulation—anything but her choice.
Back at the Grand Duke’s estate, Rubelio leaned back in his chair, an amused smirk tugging at his lips.
“Did you see that, my dear? The great Duke Valtazar, storming off like a lovesick fool.”
The Grand Duchess, seated nearby, raised an elegant brow. “Do you truly believe he’ll let this go?”
Rubelio chuckled darkly. “Let it go? Not likely. But whether he acts or fails, the chaos will work in our favor.”
She sighed, sipping her wine. “And the girl?”
Rubelio waved a hand dismissively. “She’s no longer my concern. Raphelios will deal with her—or use her. Either way, she’s out of my hands. Valtazar, however… he’ll be preoccupied chasing ghosts while I move forward.”
The Grand Duchess looked unconvinced but said nothing more, her gaze drifting to the window where the shadows of their schemes stretched far and wide.
Klaus reached the border checkpoint by dawn, his horse frothing at the mouth and visibly trembling. The guards recognized him instantly, parting the gates without question as he barked orders.
“Has a carriage recently passed? Carrying Marquess Johannes von Euciliod?”
One of the guards stepped forward hesitantly. “Yes, Your Grace. They crossed late last night, heading into Raphelios territory.”
Klaus didn’t wait for more details, spurring his horse onward.
* * *
Inside the Raphelios border, Roselia sat in the carriage, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. The weight of her decision pressed heavily on her chest, and though she had convinced herself it was the right choice, doubts lingered.
‘Did I really do the right thing? Was leaving the only way to protect him?’
Johannes, seated across from her, broke the silence. “You’re quiet. Second thoughts?”
She shook her head, but her voice wavered. “No. This is… what needs to happen.”
Johannes studied her carefully, his expression softening. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know. Whatever happens in Raphelios, I’ll ensure you’re safe.”
Roselia offered him a small, grateful smile, but her heart ached. She didn’t want to rely on Johannes, to drag him into her turmoil.
Suddenly, the sound of galloping hooves shattered the quiet of the road.
Both Roselia and Johannes turned toward the window as a lone rider approached with alarming speed.
Johannes’s eyes narrowed. “That’s…”
The rider closed the distance swiftly, and Roselia’s breath hitched as she recognized him.
“Klaus…”
He reined his horse to a stop, dismounting with fluid precision despite the animal’s exhaustion. His gaze locked onto hers through the carriage window, a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes—relief, anger, and desperation.
Without waiting for permission, Klaus threw open the carriage door, his commanding presence filling the small space.
“Get out,” he said, his voice low but laced with fury.
Roselia shrank back instinctively. “Klaus—”
“Now,” he snapped, cutting her off.
Johannes stood abruptly. “Your Grace, this is highly inappropriate—”
Klaus’s glare silenced him. “Stay out of this, Euciliod. This is between me and her.”
Roselia hesitated, but the intensity in Klaus’s eyes left no room for argument. She stepped out of the carriage, her legs trembling beneath her.
He grabbed her wrist, his grip firm but not painful, and led her away from the carriage, out of earshot of Johannes and the knights.
Once they were alone, Klaus turned to her, his expression a mix of anger and anguish.
“Why?” he demanded. “Why would you leave like this?”
Roselia bit her lip, refusing to meet his gaze. “It’s better this way, Klaus. For both of us.”
“Better?” he echoed, incredulous. “Running away to Raphelios is better? You think I’d let you throw yourself into danger because of some misguided notion of what’s best?”
She finally looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You don’t understand! Staying by your side only brings more chaos. It’s not just about me—it’s about you, too. Every time something happens, I…”
Her voice broke, and she turned away, unable to continue.
Klaus reached out, gently gripping her shoulders. “Roselia,” he said, his voice softer now. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me. If you think I’ll let you leave, you’re sorely mistaken.”
Her tears spilled over, and she shook her head. “I can’t keep watching you get hurt. I won’t…”
Klaus pulled her into a tight embrace, his hand cradling the back of her head.
“You think I regret saving you? Never,” he murmured. “But I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I lose you now.”
His words broke something inside her, and she clung to him, sobbing into his chest.
For a moment, the world around them faded, leaving only the sound of her muffled cries and his steady heartbeat.
* * *
Roselia stared out the carriage window, lost in thought.
Klaus would undoubtedly be furious when he realized she had left.
Would he feel betrayed, or would he scoff and move on, thinking she was never that important to him?
‘Or maybe… saving the Crown Princess deepened his feelings for her,’ she thought bitterly, her chest aching with the weight of her decision.
Whatever the outcome, this was the right path—for him and for herself.
The sharp pang in her heart returned, and she bit her lip, forcing the thoughts away.
Just then, the carriage screeched to a sudden halt, jarring her out of her reverie.
Thrown off balance, Roselia tumbled to the side, but Johannes, seated across from her, quickly steadied her.
“Are you all right?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.
She nodded, embarrassed, as she adjusted herself back into place.
Frowning, Johannes leaned out of the carriage to shout at the driver. “What’s going on?”
“A man is blocking the road ahead, my lord!” one of the knights called back.
Johannes stepped out of the carriage, his brow furrowed.
In the dim light, he saw a lone rider on horseback, stationed defiantly in the middle of the road.
“Who dares…” Johannes began, but his voice trailed off when he recognized the figure.
“Klaus Valtazar?”
The Duke was in a state—his clothes torn, his face pale, and his breathing labored. He looked as though he had ridden nonstop without rest.
“Klaus,” Johannes said, his tone sharp with disbelief. “Surely you didn’t ride all this way in your condition.”
But Klaus didn’t respond. He swung off his horse with a grunt of effort, his gaze locked on the carriage.
Without acknowledging Johannes further, he strode toward the vehicle, throwing the door open.
Inside, Roselia froze like a startled deer, her wide eyes meeting his.
“Klaus…?” she whispered, her voice tinged with shock.
“Roselia,” he said, his voice low and unwavering.
“Why are you here?” she asked, her tone carefully guarded.
Ignoring her question, Klaus’s expression hardened. “Get out.”
His commanding tone made her flinch, but she refused to move, her jaw tightening.
Seeing her resistance, Klaus leaned in and grabbed her wrist, intending to pull her out.
“Klaus, stop this at once!” Johannes barked, rushing forward.
“Step aside, Johannes,” Klaus growled, his tone dark and menacing.
But Roselia’s voice interrupted the escalating confrontation.
“I told him I’m leaving,” she said, her tone steady.
Both men froze, their eyes snapping to her in disbelief.
“What?” Klaus asked, his voice a mix of shock and confusion.
Roselia’s gaze didn’t waver. “I said I’m leaving. I told him I’d go.”
Klaus released her wrist as if burned, his face clouded with hurt and disbelief.
“Why?” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
Roselia met his gaze, her own eyes cold and resolute. “Because I won’t go back to the Duke’s estate.”
His face crumpled at her words, his usual composure replaced by something raw and desperate.
“You said you’d stay with me, Roselia. You promised you wouldn’t leave unless I did.”
Her eyes softened for the briefest moment, but her voice remained steady as she delivered the final blow.
“And you were the one who left first.”
Klaus staggered back a step, as if physically struck by her words.
Roselia’s heart clenched at the sight, but she turned her head away, refusing to let him see her pain.
Forcing himself upright, Klaus took a deep breath. His voice was quieter now, tinged with regret.
“I won’t let this be the end, Roselia,” he said, his tone filled with a quiet determination that made her chest tighten.
But she didn’t respond, her silence as much a wall as her refusal to return.
With that, Klaus turned on his heel, his footsteps heavy with the weight of her rejection, and mounted his exhausted horse.
Roselia’s hand trembled as she clutched her lap, her resolve cracking under the enormity of her own decision.
‘You’ll regret this, Klaus,’ she thought as tears blurred her vision. ‘But so will I.’
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